Interested!
Paradoxial Member
Leroy Jenkins reborn
- Last Seen: 1 yr ago
- Joined: 7 yrs ago
- Posts: 270 (0.10 / day)
- VMs: 0
-
Username history
- Paradoxial 7 yrs ago
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
My name is Paradoxial. I mainly focus on creating original roleplays, though I do love participating in others!
Most Recent Posts
As the Era of Coin dawns on an unsuspecting world, great and terrible machinations come to a final fruition. In the medieval, monarchical city of Wiltenfeld, an unsuspecting miner stumbles upon the key to the worlds doom. Kiamite, a gem with a thousand times the power of coal, that can power even the most beastly of inventions for months without replacement. The discovery of this rare fuel breathed new and ferocious life into the once dull and uninspired agrarian economy of the mud paved city, and soon it was turned into a bustling steampunk metropolis. The days of sustenance farming and trading at the local market were long gone, replaced by so called Factory Barons, autocrats taken to the max. With an iron fist fueled by K-coin backed by Kiamite reserves, and a pliable government ride with corruption, the unprepared city of Wiltenfeld was quick to succumb to the rule of the privileged few, leading to an unprecedented era of poverty and sickness as the deadly runoff from the miracle mineral began to take its toll.
But who are you? What is your purpose in the world? You are a Factory Baron, the wealthiest of the wealthy and elitist of elite. You control the lives of thousands, have the government in your back pocket, and enough wealth to secure your families prosperity for a thousand generations after you’re nothing more than bones in a gilded grave. You rule and compete with other barons in a constant search for utter dominance and monopoly over the defenseless city of Wiltenfeld, and are uncaring for the lives lost to achieve your greed filled ambitions. For generations your family has thrived in the upper districts of clean air and preserved gardens, yet problems stir in the lower quarters that cannot be ignored any longer. Talks of unions murmur from your workers, and dissent rises through your ranks like a pestilential fog. Not to mention the actual pestilential fog, dubbed the Nox by the workers that has been flooding the lower districts of the city as of late. This deadly and poisonous runoff from Kiamite has never been your problem, but a recent strain of plague has your scientists and doctors quite concerned about its long term effects on the lungs… not to mention the worst problem of them all. The majesty of Kiamite, the glory of the miracle mineral, that which backs your industry and is the lifeblood of the city, is running out. Even in the farthest reaches of the country, the precious few mines of the valuable gem have begun to breathe their last, and so too are the very machines that support your golden throne of power and prosperity. With all of these problems confronting your empire of greed, what will you do to preserve your ambition, and what cost will you pay to keep your crumbling empire standing?
So you’re probably thinking to yourself “wow that was really long winded and eclectic for a brief introduction” and you’d be right! To give an even briefer summary, you are playing as an autocrat or Factory Baron of a steampunk metropolis, Wiltenfeld. Your dominion is Supported entirely by (the quickly running out) Kiamite, a miracle mineral that can power even the most outlandish of inventions and keep a home warmed for months with a single crystal. The plot of this campaign will be dual purpose, in that you will be playing politics in court with your fellow PC controlled barons and others, maneuvering for power and monopoly over your fellows, as well as struggling to deal with the massive issues gradually overtaking the city such as massive unrest, unions, deadly chemical gasses being released by Kiamite consumption, and most importantly the slowing of Kiamite mining in general! You’ll need to keep your head above water and ensure the prosperity of your corporation above all others, while simultaneously ensuring that by the end of it, you still have a city to rule over!
If all of that sounds interesting please leave a post below! I’m looking for 3-6 players for this in a casual, at minimum 1 paragraph playstyle. If this gets interest lll drop an official OOC and character sheet. No matter what, as always, thanks for reading and I hope I’ll be oppressing the working class with you soon!
As the Era of Coin dawns on an unsuspecting world, great and terrible machinations come to a final fruition. In the medieval, monarchical city of Wiltenfeld, an unsuspecting miner stumbles upon the key to the worlds doom. Kiamite, a gem with a thousand times the power of coal, that can power even the most beastly of inventions for months without replacement. The discovery of this rare fuel breathed new and ferocious life into the once dull and uninspired agrarian economy of the mud paved city, and soon it was turned into a bustling steampunk metropolis. The days of sustenance farming and trading at the local market were long gone, replaced by so called Factory Barons, autocrats taken to the max. With an iron fist fueled by K-coin backed by Kiamite reserves, and a pliable government ride with corruption, the unprepared city of Wiltenfeld was quick to succumb to the rule of the privileged few, leading to an unprecedented era of poverty and sickness as the deadly runoff from the miracle mineral began to take its toll.
But who are you? What is your purpose in the world? You are a Factory Baron, the wealthiest of the wealthy and elitist of elite. You control the lives of thousands, have the government in your back pocket, and enough wealth to secure your families prosperity for a thousand generations after you’re nothing more than bones in a gilded grave. You rule and compete with other barons in a constant search for utter dominance and monopoly over the defenseless city of Wiltenfeld, and are uncaring for the lives lost to achieve your greed filled ambitions. For generations your family has thrived in the upper districts of clean air and preserved gardens, yet problems stir in the lower quarters that cannot be ignored any longer. Talks of unions murmur from your workers, and dissent rises through your ranks like a pestilential fog. Not to mention the actual pestilential fog, dubbed the Nox by the workers that has been flooding the lower districts of the city as of late. This deadly and poisonous runoff from Kiamite has never been your problem, but a recent strain of plague has your scientists and doctors quite concerned about its long term effects on the lungs… not to mention the worst problem of them all. The majesty of Kiamite, the glory of the miracle mineral, that which backs your industry and is the lifeblood of the city, is running out. Even in the farthest reaches of the country, the precious few mines of the valuable gem have begun to breathe their last, and so too are the very machines that support your golden throne of power and prosperity. With all of these problems confronting your empire of greed, what will you do to preserve your ambition, and what cost will you pay to keep your crumbling empire standing?
So you’re probably thinking to yourself “wow that was really long winded and eclectic for a brief introduction” and you’d be right! To give an even briefer summary, you are playing as an autocrat or Factory Baron of a steampunk metropolis, Wiltenfeld. Your dominion is Supported entirely by (the quickly running out) Kiamite, a miracle mineral that can power even the most outlandish of inventions and keep a home warmed for months with a single crystal. The plot of this campaign will be dual purpose, in that you will be playing politics in court with your fellow PC controlled barons and others, maneuvering for power and monopoly over your fellows, as well as struggling to deal with the massive issues gradually overtaking the city such as massive unrest, unions, deadly chemical gasses being released by Kiamite consumption, and most importantly the slowing of Kiamite mining in general! You’ll need to keep your head above water and ensure the prosperity of your corporation above all others, while simultaneously ensuring that by the end of it, you still have a city to rule over!
If all of that sounds interesting please leave a post below! I’m looking for 3-6 players for this in a casual, at minimum 1 paragraph playstyle. If this gets interest lll drop an official OOC and character sheet. No matter what, as always, thanks for reading and I hope I’ll be oppressing the working class with you soon!
@BigPapaBelial we only got 3 people unfortunately :(
Mad Max: Gastown Derby
attention all rot munchers, maggot eaters, skid marks, denizens of Gastown! I, Screem, voice of the Master have words to spit at you all! In a months time, the Master will open the Gastown track for a grand derby! A derby of CARNAGE, a derby of DESTRUCTION, a derby of OCTANE FUELED WAR MACHINES!! Any scrapper with enough friends to man a rig, and enough guzzoline to light it’s belly on fire can participate! And the prize, my sweet roadkill? AN OIL RIG OF YOUR VERY OWN! Guzzoline enough to feed even the Masters own War Chariot into Valhalla itself!! No time to waste soot-smellers! Bang yourself together a War Machine and come win glory!!!
General OOC
Hello! I haven’t had the time to commit to an RP in a while, but I’m back now with this octane fueled gem of an idea!
You and your doomed compatriots will take the role of gastown warriors, buzzard scrappers, desert wanderers, whatever else, enticed by the Gastown Derby. As a newly formed crew, you must build or steal a War Machine, an 8-16 wheeler tricked out for maximum defense, speed and destruction. Along with a side car helping you out, you will be fighting, both in and out of the track.
One half of this campaign will be quite simply surviving in Gastown. In between the races you’ll need to scavenge for parts to repair the damage you suffered in the derby, scrounge for enough food to last the crew to the next race, and viciously defend both your war machine and it’s always dwindling supply of black gold, guzzoline. You’ll need eyes on the back of your head to keep your incredibly valuable ride safe and sound, and more than a little luck. Just as well, interested players can play politics with the newly formed government of the mysterious Master, make “friends” with other roadkill in the cities grimy, oil soaked underside, earn extra Scrip by running side jobs, (that war machine can be used for more than derbies,) and whatever else a post apocalyptic survivor could want!
The 2nd half will be, obviously the derbies. Each player will have a designated role within the war machine or side car, and the only rule is to wipe out the other war machine before they destroy you. Combat will range from Drivers maneuvering the hulking beast to avoid land mines and trying to ram into the enemy, Scrappers leaping from rig to rig to shiv drivers, plants bombs and cause mayhem, shooters unloading whatever poorly constructed excuse for a gun you can mount on your machine, and more! Winning will give you fame and notoriety, increasing cash prizes of scrip, and enough guzzoline to get you to the next derby race in a weeks time (more or less, hopefully.) The positions to fill are listed below:
Driver: I’ll need 2 of these, one for the war machine and one for the side car. The War Machine driver is typically the leader of the crew, and gives the (most likely ignored) orders. A driver must be constantly aware of his surroundings, road hazards, other war machines, and screaming maniacs hopping in through your window to slit your throat. The Side Piece driver plays a different role, racing around on nitro boosted cars with light armor, providing a convenient jump point for their allies or an emergency shield, and a deadly tar pit and nuisance for their enemies.
Black-Finger: I’ll need 1 of these. Usually a mechanics genius/madman, you will be responsible for keeping the rusty bucket of bolts and rockets you call a war machine together. Without the duct tape and hasty welding of a Black-Finger, A war machine would never last more than a few minutes. You are also responsible for maintaining the engine, and many Black-Fingers also serve as incredibly risky, on the spot, shaky handed surgeons and doctors when the need is great.
Scrapper: I’ll need one of these. Armed with shivs, shovels or anything sharp, a Scrapper has one goal; to make it to the other war machine and cause mayhem. Lighting fires, killing the enemy crew, blowing out tires, whatever it takes to ensure your crew comes out on top. This is also the most dangerous position, as it requires extremely close hand to hand combat, and destroying things on War Machines that are very prone to exploding.
Shooter: I’ll need one of these. either utilizing a mounted weapon on your machine, or a hastily crafted pipe gun, your duty is to sling as much lead as possible to the other war machine. Shoot out tires, blow up fuel tanks, shoot harpoons, whatever ordinance you can get your hands on in the downtime. Shooters can range from careful, patient snipers to the local lunatic with a belt of dynamite sticks and explosives made out of children’s toys.
Weasel: I’ll need one of these. You rarely show your face in the actual derby, hiding in the main car and working the mechanisms within. It’s in the downtime where you really shine, popping tires before the race, positioning enemy crews, doing everything in your power to ensure that your crew wins in the most unfair way possible. You’re also somewhat of a mechanic, and specialize more in the fixing of complex mechanisms such as internal fuel lines, flamethrowers, mounted guns and others, while the Black-Fingers focus on plating, wheels and engines.
I really hope this catches some people’s eye! If this gets some interest I’ll throw up a discord and continue development. If you made it to the end of this interest check, thanks for stopping by and I hope to see you, or your corpse, on the track!
attention all rot munchers, maggot eaters, skid marks, denizens of Gastown! I, Screem, voice of the Master have words to spit at you all! In a months time, the Master will open the Gastown track for a grand derby! A derby of CARNAGE, a derby of DESTRUCTION, a derby of OCTANE FUELED WAR MACHINES!! Any scrapper with enough friends to man a rig, and enough guzzoline to light it’s belly on fire can participate! And the prize, my sweet roadkill? AN OIL RIG OF YOUR VERY OWN! Guzzoline enough to feed even the Masters own War Chariot into Valhalla itself!! No time to waste soot-smellers! Bang yourself together a War Machine and come win glory!!!
General OOC
Hello! I haven’t had the time to commit to an RP in a while, but I’m back now with this octane fueled gem of an idea!
You and your doomed compatriots will take the role of gastown warriors, buzzard scrappers, desert wanderers, whatever else, enticed by the Gastown Derby. As a newly formed crew, you must build or steal a War Machine, an 8-16 wheeler tricked out for maximum defense, speed and destruction. Along with a side car helping you out, you will be fighting, both in and out of the track.
One half of this campaign will be quite simply surviving in Gastown. In between the races you’ll need to scavenge for parts to repair the damage you suffered in the derby, scrounge for enough food to last the crew to the next race, and viciously defend both your war machine and it’s always dwindling supply of black gold, guzzoline. You’ll need eyes on the back of your head to keep your incredibly valuable ride safe and sound, and more than a little luck. Just as well, interested players can play politics with the newly formed government of the mysterious Master, make “friends” with other roadkill in the cities grimy, oil soaked underside, earn extra Scrip by running side jobs, (that war machine can be used for more than derbies,) and whatever else a post apocalyptic survivor could want!
The 2nd half will be, obviously the derbies. Each player will have a designated role within the war machine or side car, and the only rule is to wipe out the other war machine before they destroy you. Combat will range from Drivers maneuvering the hulking beast to avoid land mines and trying to ram into the enemy, Scrappers leaping from rig to rig to shiv drivers, plants bombs and cause mayhem, shooters unloading whatever poorly constructed excuse for a gun you can mount on your machine, and more! Winning will give you fame and notoriety, increasing cash prizes of scrip, and enough guzzoline to get you to the next derby race in a weeks time (more or less, hopefully.) The positions to fill are listed below:
Driver: I’ll need 2 of these, one for the war machine and one for the side car. The War Machine driver is typically the leader of the crew, and gives the (most likely ignored) orders. A driver must be constantly aware of his surroundings, road hazards, other war machines, and screaming maniacs hopping in through your window to slit your throat. The Side Piece driver plays a different role, racing around on nitro boosted cars with light armor, providing a convenient jump point for their allies or an emergency shield, and a deadly tar pit and nuisance for their enemies.
Black-Finger: I’ll need 1 of these. Usually a mechanics genius/madman, you will be responsible for keeping the rusty bucket of bolts and rockets you call a war machine together. Without the duct tape and hasty welding of a Black-Finger, A war machine would never last more than a few minutes. You are also responsible for maintaining the engine, and many Black-Fingers also serve as incredibly risky, on the spot, shaky handed surgeons and doctors when the need is great.
Scrapper: I’ll need one of these. Armed with shivs, shovels or anything sharp, a Scrapper has one goal; to make it to the other war machine and cause mayhem. Lighting fires, killing the enemy crew, blowing out tires, whatever it takes to ensure your crew comes out on top. This is also the most dangerous position, as it requires extremely close hand to hand combat, and destroying things on War Machines that are very prone to exploding.
Shooter: I’ll need one of these. either utilizing a mounted weapon on your machine, or a hastily crafted pipe gun, your duty is to sling as much lead as possible to the other war machine. Shoot out tires, blow up fuel tanks, shoot harpoons, whatever ordinance you can get your hands on in the downtime. Shooters can range from careful, patient snipers to the local lunatic with a belt of dynamite sticks and explosives made out of children’s toys.
Weasel: I’ll need one of these. You rarely show your face in the actual derby, hiding in the main car and working the mechanisms within. It’s in the downtime where you really shine, popping tires before the race, positioning enemy crews, doing everything in your power to ensure that your crew wins in the most unfair way possible. You’re also somewhat of a mechanic, and specialize more in the fixing of complex mechanisms such as internal fuel lines, flamethrowers, mounted guns and others, while the Black-Fingers focus on plating, wheels and engines.
I really hope this catches some people’s eye! If this gets some interest I’ll throw up a discord and continue development. If you made it to the end of this interest check, thanks for stopping by and I hope to see you, or your corpse, on the track!
Mad Max: Gastown Derby
attention all rot munchers, maggot eaters, skid marks, denizens of Gastown! I, Screem, voice of the Master have words to spit at you all! In a months time, the Master will open the Gastown track for a grand derby! A derby of CARNAGE, a derby of DESTRUCTION, a derby of OCTANE FUELED WAR MACHINES!! Any scrapper with enough friends to man a rig, and enough guzzoline to light it’s belly on fire can participate! And the prize, my sweet roadkill? AN OIL RIG OF YOUR VERY OWN! Guzzoline enough to feed even the Masters own War Chariot into Valhalla itself!! No time to waste soot-smellers! Bang yourself together a War Machine and come win glory!!!
General OOC
Hello! I haven’t had the time to commit to an RP in a while, but I’m back now with this octane fueled gem of an idea!
You and your doomed compatriots will take the role of gastown warriors, buzzard scrappers, desert wanderers, whatever else, enticed by the Gastown Derby. As a newly formed crew, you must build or steal a War Machine, an 8-16 wheeler tricked out for maximum defense, speed and destruction. Along with a side car helping you out, you will be fighting, both in and out of the track.
One half of this campaign will be quite simply surviving in Gastown. In between the races you’ll need to scavenge for parts to repair the damage you suffered in the derby, scrounge for enough food to last the crew to the next race, and viciously defend both your war machine and it’s always dwindling supply of black gold, guzzoline. You’ll need eyes on the back of your head to keep your incredibly valuable ride safe and sound, and more than a little luck. Just as well, interested players can play politics with the newly formed government of the mysterious Master, make “friends” with other roadkill in the cities grimy, oil soaked underside, earn extra Scrip by running side jobs, (that war machine can be used for more than derbies,) and whatever else a post apocalyptic survivor could want!
The 2nd half will be, obviously the derbies. Each player will have a designated role within the war machine or side car, and the only rule is to wipe out the other war machine before they destroy you. Combat will range from Drivers maneuvering the hulking beast to avoid land mines and trying to ram into the enemy, Scrappers leaping from rig to rig to shiv drivers, plants bombs and cause mayhem, shooters unloading whatever poorly constructed excuse for a gun you can mount on your machine, and more! Winning will give you fame and notoriety, increasing cash prizes of scrip, and enough guzzoline to get you to the next derby race in a weeks time (more or less, hopefully.) The positions to fill are listed below:
Driver: I’ll need 2 of these, one for the war machine and one for the side car. The War Machine driver is typically the leader of the crew, and gives the (most likely ignored) orders. A driver must be constantly aware of his surroundings, road hazards, other war machines, and screaming maniacs hopping in through your window to slit your throat. The Side Piece driver plays a different role, racing around on nitro boosted cars with light armor, providing a convenient jump point for their allies or an emergency shield, and a deadly tar pit and nuisance for their enemies.
Black-Finger: I’ll need 1 of these. Usually a mechanics genius/madman, you will be responsible for keeping the rusty bucket of bolts and rockets you call a war machine together. Without the duct tape and hasty welding of a Black-Finger, A war machine would never last more than a few minutes. You are also responsible for maintaining the engine, and many Black-Fingers also serve as incredibly risky, on the spot, shaky handed surgeons and doctors when the need is great.
Scrapper: I’ll need one of these. Armed with shivs, shovels or anything sharp, a Scrapper has one goal; to make it to the other war machine and cause mayhem. Lighting fires, killing the enemy crew, blowing out tires, whatever it takes to ensure your crew comes out on top. This is also the most dangerous position, as it requires extremely close hand to hand combat, and destroying things on War Machines that are very prone to exploding.
Shooter: I’ll need one of these. either utilizing a mounted weapon on your machine, or a hastily crafted pipe gun, your duty is to sling as much lead as possible to the other war machine. Shoot out tires, blow up fuel tanks, shoot harpoons, whatever ordinance you can get your hands on in the downtime. Shooters can range from careful, patient snipers to the local lunatic with a belt of dynamite sticks and explosives made out of children’s toys.
Weasel: I’ll need one of these. You rarely show your face in the actual derby, hiding in the main car and working the mechanisms within. It’s in the downtime where you really shine, popping tires before the race, positioning enemy crews, doing everything in your power to ensure that your crew wins in the most unfair way possible. You’re also somewhat of a mechanic, and specialize more in the fixing of complex mechanisms such as internal fuel lines, flamethrowers, mounted guns and others, while the Black-Fingers focus on plating, wheels and engines.
I really hope this catches some people’s eye! If this gets some interest I’ll throw up a discord and continue development. If you made it to the end of this interest check, thanks for stopping by and I hope to see you, or your corpse, on the track!
attention all rot munchers, maggot eaters, skid marks, denizens of Gastown! I, Screem, voice of the Master have words to spit at you all! In a months time, the Master will open the Gastown track for a grand derby! A derby of CARNAGE, a derby of DESTRUCTION, a derby of OCTANE FUELED WAR MACHINES!! Any scrapper with enough friends to man a rig, and enough guzzoline to light it’s belly on fire can participate! And the prize, my sweet roadkill? AN OIL RIG OF YOUR VERY OWN! Guzzoline enough to feed even the Masters own War Chariot into Valhalla itself!! No time to waste soot-smellers! Bang yourself together a War Machine and come win glory!!!
General OOC
Hello! I haven’t had the time to commit to an RP in a while, but I’m back now with this octane fueled gem of an idea!
You and your doomed compatriots will take the role of gastown warriors, buzzard scrappers, desert wanderers, whatever else, enticed by the Gastown Derby. As a newly formed crew, you must build or steal a War Machine, an 8-16 wheeler tricked out for maximum defense, speed and destruction. Along with a side car helping you out, you will be fighting, both in and out of the track.
One half of this campaign will be quite simply surviving in Gastown. In between the races you’ll need to scavenge for parts to repair the damage you suffered in the derby, scrounge for enough food to last the crew to the next race, and viciously defend both your war machine and it’s always dwindling supply of black gold, guzzoline. You’ll need eyes on the back of your head to keep your incredibly valuable ride safe and sound, and more than a little luck. Just as well, interested players can play politics with the newly formed government of the mysterious Master, make “friends” with other roadkill in the cities grimy, oil soaked underside, earn extra Scrip by running side jobs, (that war machine can be used for more than derbies,) and whatever else a post apocalyptic survivor could want!
The 2nd half will be, obviously the derbies. Each player will have a designated role within the war machine or side car, and the only rule is to wipe out the other war machine before they destroy you. Combat will range from Drivers maneuvering the hulking beast to avoid land mines and trying to ram into the enemy, Scrappers leaping from rig to rig to shiv drivers, plants bombs and cause mayhem, shooters unloading whatever poorly constructed excuse for a gun you can mount on your machine, and more! Winning will give you fame and notoriety, increasing cash prizes of scrip, and enough guzzoline to get you to the next derby race in a weeks time (more or less, hopefully.) The positions to fill are listed below:
Driver: I’ll need 2 of these, one for the war machine and one for the side car. The War Machine driver is typically the leader of the crew, and gives the (most likely ignored) orders. A driver must be constantly aware of his surroundings, road hazards, other war machines, and screaming maniacs hopping in through your window to slit your throat. The Side Piece driver plays a different role, racing around on nitro boosted cars with light armor, providing a convenient jump point for their allies or an emergency shield, and a deadly tar pit and nuisance for their enemies.
Black-Finger: I’ll need 1 of these. Usually a mechanics genius/madman, you will be responsible for keeping the rusty bucket of bolts and rockets you call a war machine together. Without the duct tape and hasty welding of a Black-Finger, A war machine would never last more than a few minutes. You are also responsible for maintaining the engine, and many Black-Fingers also serve as incredibly risky, on the spot, shaky handed surgeons and doctors when the need is great.
Scrapper: I’ll need one of these. Armed with shivs, shovels or anything sharp, a Scrapper has one goal; to make it to the other war machine and cause mayhem. Lighting fires, killing the enemy crew, blowing out tires, whatever it takes to ensure your crew comes out on top. This is also the most dangerous position, as it requires extremely close hand to hand combat, and destroying things on War Machines that are very prone to exploding.
Shooter: I’ll need one of these. either utilizing a mounted weapon on your machine, or a hastily crafted pipe gun, your duty is to sling as much lead as possible to the other war machine. Shoot out tires, blow up fuel tanks, shoot harpoons, whatever ordinance you can get your hands on in the downtime. Shooters can range from careful, patient snipers to the local lunatic with a belt of dynamite sticks and explosives made out of children’s toys.
Weasel: I’ll need one of these. You rarely show your face in the actual derby, hiding in the main car and working the mechanisms within. It’s in the downtime where you really shine, popping tires before the race, positioning enemy crews, doing everything in your power to ensure that your crew wins in the most unfair way possible. You’re also somewhat of a mechanic, and specialize more in the fixing of complex mechanisms such as internal fuel lines, flamethrowers, mounted guns and others, while the Black-Fingers focus on plating, wheels and engines.
I really hope this catches some people’s eye! If this gets some interest I’ll throw up a discord and continue development. If you made it to the end of this interest check, thanks for stopping by and I hope to see you, or your corpse, on the track!
As requested, moved to the general interest check!
In
Old Glory (GoT-styled RP in a post apocalyptic medieval USA)
→
3 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
In
Old Glory (GoT-styled RP in a post apocalyptic medieval USA)
→
3 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
@Catharyn you’ll start out as crew! I suppose that eventually though if you get rich enough you could buy your own crew, additional members, ETC. The best part of a roleplay is the infinite possibilities!
© 2007-2024