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Recent Statuses

22 days ago
Current We need M.Night Shyamalan, Uwe Boll and Neil Breen to make that live action Avatar TV series we all so desperately want.
1 like
30 days ago
Yeah, man. I want to practice my Walmart Roleplays publicly without fear of harassment.
7 likes
2 mos ago
Why did Kenneth Branagh have to ruin Artemis Fowl? 2020 is a cruel mistress.
2 mos ago
Anyone remember that there was a live action Lady and the Tramp released on Disney+ in 2019? No? That's how forgettable these movies are.
8 likes
2 mos ago
If you're going to do fantasy races, don't follow the example of Bright and make Orcs into racial allegories of African Americans.
8 likes

Bio



ROLEPLAY BUCKET LIST
- Walmart Apocalypse Roleplay
- Nightmare Gas Station
- Underrail/Fallout/Post Apocalyptic Roleplay. Codename: Clausterclysm
- Anthromorphic Grimdark Animal Fantasy Roleplay. Codename: Fallowbrook.
- Eldritch Abomination Garfield Roleplay. Codename: Lasagna.
- Infinite IKEA Roleplay. Codename: God Morgon
- Cooking High Fantasy RP. Codename: Smorgasbord.
- Roleplayerguild High School RP. Codename: Highschool Roleplay
- Cyberpunk South East Asia RP. Codename: Straits of Malacca.

Most Recent Posts

Well, crap.

Sorry for not posting as much as we should have.

Thanks for the fun, though!
One more bump before I make the OOC on Monday most likely.
3 years on RPGO and it only feels like yesterday since I first made that first foray into the world of online roleplaying. In that time, I’ve made friends, lost friends, said goodbye to old homes, entered new ones, moved across the ocean and just living my life through the moment. If I saw myself now from where I was three years ago, my reaction would most likely be one of two things. Mortified that I’m still giving my time and energy to this hobby or impressed that I haven’t given up so far.

I’d like to take a moment to recognise some specific posters on this forum.

@Shiva

Your roleplays are the metaphorical equivalent of a home cooked meal. Satisfying, warm and filling. They might not be the most complex or the most unique concepts but they come from a place of comfort. I have @Rapid Reader to thank for initially introducing me to you. Trust me, you’re going to go places.

@Opposition Without a doubt, the GM of the best cyberpunk RP on the Guild without a doubt. I was going to make a congratulatory post when Futility reaches 50 posts but I was never one for organisation. Your verve and drive towards pushing the envelope of roleplaying as well as creating interesting settings never ceases to amaze. I’d also like to thank you for putting up with my autophile tendencies.

@Rapid Reader

We’ve said these things to each other in PMs and Private chats more times than I can count. You’re here when I need ideas to bounce off you. You’re there to tell me whether I’m doing something right or whether I’m doing something wrong. You’re there to laugh at me at some stupid dumb meme I dig up from the bowels of the internet. You’re there whenever I need support or help. You’re chill. You’re swell and you’re just a plain awesome person to know.

You’re not only a great writer (We can be all humble or self depreciating as we want but personally, I think your writing is a dozen times better than mine. That’s the truth). You are a great friend. Well, long distance friend since I live tens of thousands of miles away from you across the Pacific. Even if we by some chance move on from this site in the years to come and towards paths that offer less time to pursue this hobby.....

It’s the memory that counts.

So yeah, here’s to another year of roleplaying.




$$$




> PLEASE ENTER CUSTOMER RFID SEQUENCE
> *********
> ERROR. 2 ATTEMPTS LEFT.
> *********
> ERROR. WARNING. 1 ATTEMPT LEFT UNTIL CUSTOMER MALFEASANCE PROTOCOL ACTIVATION.
> *********
> SUCCESS.
> WELCOME, TED WILLIAMS. HOW MAY WE HELP YOU TODAY?
> ACCESS AUDIO JOURNAL
> PROCESSING........


WAL-INCORPORATED CO PTY LTD

Always Low Prices


Date: May 25th, 2085
From: Samuel Walton Junior, Supreme Executive President of Wal-International
To: All Registered Empl0yee Citizens
Subject: Our New Expansion Initiative And Other Matters Of Importance

[ERROR]-proud to announce the creation of over 45 new branches including Wal-Power, Wal-Education, Wal-Agriculture and Wal-Fashion along with the acquisition of over 400 new businesses in the last year. We are confident that these mergers will irove - [ERROR]

[ERROR]- better or worse, our model for success has been an inspiration for our competitors worldwide. All registered employee citizens who are found to the IKEA Mega-Centre Zone or Alibaba will be rendered non persona gratas and executed immediately upon sight by Security - [ERROR][ERROR]

- ember to review our su̶̱̻̺͐̐͒͗̇͋́͊̕m̴̫̥̙̹̖͖̠̏͑͆͝ṁ̵͚͎͚̼̰̳̝̯̲̎̌̾͘̕̚͠é̶̟̹͇̯̿̽̔͝ř̶̤̫͑̓̈́͂̓̕̚͝ ̷̢͈̺̜̉̓̀̈c̵̜̔̒͑a̴̢͇̣̝͝ţ̵̦̼̻̺̻͋̈́ḁ̷̠̄̌͐͌ļ̶͔̠͙̜̮̣͕̹̽̀̾̐̈́̂̑͠ó̷̢̻̓̇̑͐͆̄͠g̴̯̝͎̖̘̪̥̿͝ ̴̡̛͈̺̞̭̰͎͙̎̈́̄̀̕f̵̰͕͓̩̀̇͊ͅo̵̧̩̱͇̘͗́̎̾̄̀̔͑ṙ̴̬̝̱̭͓̖̐́́͗̿̚ ̷̡̘͋̈ṱ̸̦̩͊͑͋͊́̌̑̃h̶̨̜͚̭͉̀͛̆ͅe̷̛̠̩̎̃̇͑̓̈́́͠ ̶̠̦͇̪̎͛́b̵̙̐͝e̵̟̲̎͋̎͠s̵̤̦͉̹̳̼͒̓̀̍̄̓̒͠t̸̥̩̋͋̀͌̉ ̵̧̢̨̝̖̬̯̱̩̓̃̽͆̂̕͝͝p̸̙̲͇͋̊̔̈́̿r̴̨̠͓͚̻̩̾̀͋̑̐į̴̫͔̞̯̰̗̗̭̓̒́̋͑́ĉ̶̯̩̟̹̫͛̈́̊̌͗e̴͉̥̗̺͑̆̇́̑͜ͅś̷̹̥͈̳͈̗̮̍̍̈́̕ ̵̺̦̦͇͉̍̕̕ȧ̶͉̖̣̝̦̗͍̀̽̚n̴̼̭̙̖͙̂̒͊͑͐͝d̴͕̟͇̂͝ ̷͉̠̦͕̞͚̹̤̅e̶̡̛̝̭̎̐̆͊́̾̅̚n̵̡̧̞̟̹̤͓̯̎̇̎͠ͅt̸̳̋̓͐͝ě̶̱͖̃̚r̷̬̦̱͙͚̒͗̋́̊́̒͂͠ ̴̬̪̘͈̭͎̮̂̑̈́̍͛̋͝ŏ̷̤̲̺̺͔̠̽̿́͆͑u̷͔͎̯̔͆̀̕ŗ̵̹̜̦̦̯̱̄͐̃̈͒ ̷̝̓e̴̢̟͎̘̼̺̮̼̘͛̄͆͑̐̕͘͠x̴̢̰͍̣͔̮̩̲͈̑́͐̈́͑̄͘͝͝c̷̟͎̱͇̋͌̐͜ͅl̴̛̮͙̻͑͒͋͠ú̴̧̡̜̗͖̙͖̰͓̓̐̎̎͗̀s̴͇̥͆̉͋͊̂̈́̇̒̍i̵̡͍̩̼̺̥̗̥͋̉͗ͅv̵̢̻̮̰͓̗̯̋̊̉͆͘̕ė̶͕͈͉͕̙̣̽̀̆͐̔̾ ̸̪̪̮̲͈͂̊W̶̛̩̩͕͗͑̊̈́̋̚͝͠a̵̛͈͙̣͇̝̪̱̾͌̓̂̄̚ͅl̵̼̗͗̇̌̌̃̊̑̅̉-̸̲͔̱̂̄̊̒̈́P̶͎͎̥̦̘̘̮͍̝̊͑̄͗͋͌͠ȁ̷͎̼͛̌̓͑̇̅̒c̶̢̥̞͎̤̓̒̏̔̉̂͜ĥ̴̬͉͖͆̈́į̴͔̻̟̲̇̎̋̍̚̚n̸̡̩̘͎̩͔͠ķ̸͙̘͔̜̟̜̻͐͂͊̐͊̚ȏ̸̡̨͚̖̽̀̉̕ ̷̻͉̣͇͊̉͂̌͜L̴̦̠̖̜͈̭̞̰͋̏o̴͉͓̞͑̀͆͗͂̈́̕͘͝t̴̨̲̭̰͖̣̔͐̇̑̋̂ͅt̸̡̳̱͎̦̠̭͐̌͋͊͑͊͒̕͝e̷̮͚͑͌͜r̶̼͍̹̦̊̽̂̋̒͛̃̇ÿ̸̯͉́̃͒̃͐ ̶̣͚̙̼͇̥̇̒̆̐̾̾̆̾͝ṭ̷̞̼̗̦͐o̵̼̘͖̰̩̊̌͐͊͌̍ ̷̜̺͇̞̃̏͂̈́̾-̵̡̥̤̣͈̫̤̃
̶̢̤͈͉̘̝͍͋́͒̌̌̊

> DAILY SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT PLUG IN FAILED. REBOOTING......

> ACCESSING JOURNAL



Day 4812. Location. South of Fort Monopoly. Condition. Tired.

Eternity have passed since I walked through these endless aisles, yet, I have not expired. Time has lost its meaning. Truths have become inseparable from lies, as the PA system wails above me in saccharine chants. In my walleted heart, the Great Sam knows only these four words to be true.

The Wal is All.

I’ve seen sights you wouldn’t believe. A sky of fluorescent lights. Valleys of discarded shelves. Hills of refuse. Glaciers of refrigeration units. Conga lines of shopping carts stretching for miles. I’ve known plenty who claimed to have escaped through the Gates of Sliding and into the promised lands of the Parking Lots.

Lies.

There is no exit. There is no entrance. There is no end or beginning.

The Wal is All.

It is now a time of tense stability. I thank the Great Sam that the Smilers are still feuding among another like the barbaric Grocery tribes. Years have passed since the last major Sport, departments such as the Stationary Shogunate and the Clothing Kingdoms licking their wounds. Brand gangs patrol and exercise control over their insignificant turfs whilst aislers such as the Dorfs and Cereai take up the mantle of heroism.

To be mad is to be sane.

The Wal is All.

More and more rogue Wal-Tech stalk the shelves with Management constantly releasing new and horrible products. There have been rumors of Nevergrow and Amblouceti encroaching on nearby settlements in the Eastern Wal. Just this week, I saw a Security Bot carrying away a poor soul for shoplifting in the Alcohol section. He's probably a Greeter by now. The Fall Seasonal comes closer and the Stockers will soon approach in full force.

Despite our progress, we are still ants walking in the footsteps of monsters.

We are the Wal. We live in the Wal. We die in the Wal.




$$$




//PREMISE


The Wal is All.

Long after a world-shattering nuclear cataclysm known as the Fall, the last remaining survivors have taken refuge inside residential mega-marts owned by the now defunct global conglomerate corporate nation, Wal-Incorporated. Trapped within these colossal superstructures from the horrors of the outside world, these survivors fought amongst one another for control of the resources of the mega-marts and against the malfunctioning robotic Associates that once served mankind, now targeting all of humanity as ‘shoplifters’.

Centuries later, humanity has splintered into bands of settlements, the largest and most organised of these settlements being known as ‘Departments’. War and conflict between neighbouring departments wreak the Wal. Religious cults and lunatic gangs prey upon poor aislers, desperate to make a living. Mutants such as giant pigeons, rat-people and giga-roaches now roam the hallways. All the while, the malevolent Management observes from above, plotting and controlling the endless hordes of bots that patrol the mart.

Players will take the role of Lifters. Lifters are mercenaries, saleswords, bounty hunters, treasure hunters, an aisler willing to do any job for the right price or coupon. You’re no veteran Bargain Binner but you’re sure as hell no dollar store Cheapskate. You also may be slightly mad, or not. Surviving this long in the Wal usually comes with the cost of your sanity.

So, where does your story begin?

It has been a month after the last Black Friday and merely a week after the signing of a landmark treaty between the Stationary Shogunate and the Clothing Dynasties. You could care less about the political ramifications this poses to the other departments and more about the job you've been recently hired for. The Library of the Bookshelves have hired you as an escort for a treasure hunting expedition. The pay is good but your contractor almost maddeningly discloses little information about the treasure you are trying to find.

Is it the fabled 32nd flavor of Baskin Robbins Ice Cream? The legendary 100% off coupon? A Pre-Fall Wal-Tech manuscript?

No one on the expedition knows except for the leader himself, Field Archivist Ken-Dal.

It's night. You and the rest of the expedition are camping out in the middle of abandoned Dorf territory, ruined Forts that have been uninhabited for several decades after the Nevergrow invasion. You take this as an opportunity to rest, the fluorescent lights dimming above you and your feet aching after days of non-stop walking.

Little did you know that your expedition would take the turn for the worse.




Oh boy, here I go GMing again!

So, to put this in as few details as possible, I'm looking for a batch of 4-5 players who are willing to join a narrative based RP primarily focused on player interactivity and heavy amounts of action. Keep in mind first and foremost that this is a satirical RP that is a pastiche of modern consumer capitalism.

Please ask any questions if you do. This is merely a thread to gauge interest. I will make the OOC thread after one week if there is enough interest. If there is significant interest, I will strike while the iron is hot.
Barnabum Yerickford


“ One screw. Two screws. And that’s it!”

Barnabum wiggled the spanner out from the bolt, wiping a river of sweat off his brow. The room they’d housed the rune engine in was cramped with mold festering cracks and cobwebs in the rafters. The lack of ventilation had turned the interior of the room into a soupy mist, as hisses of coolant and coughs of smoke punctuated the silence of his work.

Overall, it was tiring, unpleasant and horrible work.

But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Tightening the last of the screws and checking the pressure gauge one last time, Barnabum began to walk out of the boiling engine room, carrying his toolbox with his gloved hand. Closing the door behind him, Barnabum climbed up onto the deck of the Sky Maiden, brushing the dust off his pants. The last batches of cargo were still being loaded onto the ship by the band of fae they’d hired.

As he strode through the deck, he gave small faint nods to each crew member that was situated there. He made a mental note to converse with the master gunner later about his ideas for augmenting the large-bore cannons with gravity accelerators.Overall, it was an odd bunch that he’d decided to join up with but you couldn’t count on a rigorous application process when you took up piracy as a career. The funds would be worth it, though. It had to be.

Eventually, Barnabum leaned against the solar-sail mast and took out a small moth-eaten handbook, flipping open to a brand new page. “ Now, that sure as heck won’t work.” Barnabum playfully mused to himself, crossing out the figure and writing a new sketch of his proposed engine, “ Or will it?” . His eyes flickered across each and every hypothetical measurement, equations dancing in his mind to ensure his prototype would tread the line between failure and success. He continued on this tangent for a little while before noticing the captain in the corner of his eye. He snapped his book shut and stumbled over towards her hurriedly. A maniac crescent grin split his face in half as he took out a sheet of parchment with scrawlings on it, presenting it to Dihala as if it was show and tell.

“ Ah, Captain! I’va made some absolutely scienterrific modifications to the ship’s engine. I calculate….hm….let’s see here...lots of ones. Lots of twos…..Lots of zeroes...That’s good. I’ve managed to darn near increase forward thrust in her by a factor of 1.32 and reduce vacuum drag by a good ol’ 1.65 peeerrrcent!” The gnome giggled excitedly, taking a moment to wipe a smear of grease off his beard before trailing off again. “ I do have some ideas about bolstering our forward propulsion engines, though, this require a significant quantity of unstable isotope of mithril for - “

Barnabum paused for a moment, realizing at how cruddy he was at delivering pitches, before rewording his suggestions to convert their sky-ship into a hyper light cruiser instead of a nuclear meltdown.

“Well, shoot, I can see the problem wit’ tha last idea. That’s just fer your consideration.” Barnabum once more began to return to his rant before he frowned, his face curdling like sour milk. He looked over Dihala’s shoulder and shouted “ Oi, gerroff mah shrooms! You’re supposed to be loading the cargo, not sampling the cargo!”

He jabbed his finger towards a pixie of the Joy Division who looked like a murderer caught in the middle of a crime scene, cigar dangling out of his mouth.

“ You damnable flower spawn” Barnabum snarled out loud as he ripped the cigar out from the . Instead of reprimanding the pixie further, he took out a fresh cigar out from the box and shoved it roughly into the pixie’s hands.

“ You’re smoking it the wrong way! Here, let me show you how to properly enjoy one of these cigars.”

Barnabum took out a small pocket knife and cut off the end of the cigar, showing the pixie how to grip it properly and how not to stick it in his mouth. After the short demonstration, Barnabum lighted his and the pixie’s carefully, the ends of their cigars glowing orange bright. The pixie sucked in the fumes and blinked several times, eyes dilating and staring upwards at the sky. Judging by the dazed bloodshot gazes they were both giving Dihala, it was evident that they were high as a kite.




$$$




> PLEASE ENTER CUSTOMER RFID SEQUENCE
> *********
> ERROR. 2 ATTEMPTS LEFT.
> *********
> ERROR. WARNING. 1 ATTEMPT LEFT UNTIL CUSTOMER MALFEASANCE PROTOCOL ACTIVATION.
> *********
> SUCCESS.
> WELCOME, TED WILLIAMS. HOW MAY WE HELP YOU TODAY?
> ACCESS AUDIO JOURNAL
> PROCESSING........


WAL-INCORPORATED CO PTY LTD

Always Low Prices


Date: May 25th, 2085
From: Samuel Walton Junior, Supreme Executive President of Wal-International
To: All Registered Empl0yee Citizens
Subject: Our New Expansion Initiative And Other Matters Of Importance

[ERROR]-proud to announce the creation of over 45 new branches including Wal-Power, Wal-Education, Wal-Agriculture and Wal-Fashion along with the acquisition of over 400 new businesses in the last year. We are confident that these mergers will irove - [ERROR]

[ERROR]- better or worse, our model for success has been an inspiration for our competitors worldwide. All registered employee citizens who are found to the IKEA Mega-Centre Zone or Alibaba will be rendered non persona gratas and executed immediately upon sight by Security - [ERROR][ERROR]

- ember to review our su̶̱̻̺͐̐͒͗̇͋́͊̕m̴̫̥̙̹̖͖̠̏͑͆͝ṁ̵͚͎͚̼̰̳̝̯̲̎̌̾͘̕̚͠é̶̟̹͇̯̿̽̔͝ř̶̤̫͑̓̈́͂̓̕̚͝ ̷̢͈̺̜̉̓̀̈c̵̜̔̒͑a̴̢͇̣̝͝ţ̵̦̼̻̺̻͋̈́ḁ̷̠̄̌͐͌ļ̶͔̠͙̜̮̣͕̹̽̀̾̐̈́̂̑͠ó̷̢̻̓̇̑͐͆̄͠g̴̯̝͎̖̘̪̥̿͝ ̴̡̛͈̺̞̭̰͎͙̎̈́̄̀̕f̵̰͕͓̩̀̇͊ͅo̵̧̩̱͇̘͗́̎̾̄̀̔͑ṙ̴̬̝̱̭͓̖̐́́͗̿̚ ̷̡̘͋̈ṱ̸̦̩͊͑͋͊́̌̑̃h̶̨̜͚̭͉̀͛̆ͅe̷̛̠̩̎̃̇͑̓̈́́͠ ̶̠̦͇̪̎͛́b̵̙̐͝e̵̟̲̎͋̎͠s̵̤̦͉̹̳̼͒̓̀̍̄̓̒͠t̸̥̩̋͋̀͌̉ ̵̧̢̨̝̖̬̯̱̩̓̃̽͆̂̕͝͝p̸̙̲͇͋̊̔̈́̿r̴̨̠͓͚̻̩̾̀͋̑̐į̴̫͔̞̯̰̗̗̭̓̒́̋͑́ĉ̶̯̩̟̹̫͛̈́̊̌͗e̴͉̥̗̺͑̆̇́̑͜ͅś̷̹̥͈̳͈̗̮̍̍̈́̕ ̵̺̦̦͇͉̍̕̕ȧ̶͉̖̣̝̦̗͍̀̽̚n̴̼̭̙̖͙̂̒͊͑͐͝d̴͕̟͇̂͝ ̷͉̠̦͕̞͚̹̤̅e̶̡̛̝̭̎̐̆͊́̾̅̚n̵̡̧̞̟̹̤͓̯̎̇̎͠ͅt̸̳̋̓͐͝ě̶̱͖̃̚r̷̬̦̱͙͚̒͗̋́̊́̒͂͠ ̴̬̪̘͈̭͎̮̂̑̈́̍͛̋͝ŏ̷̤̲̺̺͔̠̽̿́͆͑u̷͔͎̯̔͆̀̕ŗ̵̹̜̦̦̯̱̄͐̃̈͒ ̷̝̓e̴̢̟͎̘̼̺̮̼̘͛̄͆͑̐̕͘͠x̴̢̰͍̣͔̮̩̲͈̑́͐̈́͑̄͘͝͝c̷̟͎̱͇̋͌̐͜ͅl̴̛̮͙̻͑͒͋͠ú̴̧̡̜̗͖̙͖̰͓̓̐̎̎͗̀s̴͇̥͆̉͋͊̂̈́̇̒̍i̵̡͍̩̼̺̥̗̥͋̉͗ͅv̵̢̻̮̰͓̗̯̋̊̉͆͘̕ė̶͕͈͉͕̙̣̽̀̆͐̔̾ ̸̪̪̮̲͈͂̊W̶̛̩̩͕͗͑̊̈́̋̚͝͠a̵̛͈͙̣͇̝̪̱̾͌̓̂̄̚ͅl̵̼̗͗̇̌̌̃̊̑̅̉-̸̲͔̱̂̄̊̒̈́P̶͎͎̥̦̘̘̮͍̝̊͑̄͗͋͌͠ȁ̷͎̼͛̌̓͑̇̅̒c̶̢̥̞͎̤̓̒̏̔̉̂͜ĥ̴̬͉͖͆̈́į̴͔̻̟̲̇̎̋̍̚̚n̸̡̩̘͎̩͔͠ķ̸͙̘͔̜̟̜̻͐͂͊̐͊̚ȏ̸̡̨͚̖̽̀̉̕ ̷̻͉̣͇͊̉͂̌͜L̴̦̠̖̜͈̭̞̰͋̏o̴͉͓̞͑̀͆͗͂̈́̕͘͝t̴̨̲̭̰͖̣̔͐̇̑̋̂ͅt̸̡̳̱͎̦̠̭͐̌͋͊͑͊͒̕͝e̷̮͚͑͌͜r̶̼͍̹̦̊̽̂̋̒͛̃̇ÿ̸̯͉́̃͒̃͐ ̶̣͚̙̼͇̥̇̒̆̐̾̾̆̾͝ṭ̷̞̼̗̦͐o̵̼̘͖̰̩̊̌͐͊͌̍ ̷̜̺͇̞̃̏͂̈́̾-̵̡̥̤̣͈̫̤̃
̶̢̤͈͉̘̝͍͋́͒̌̌̊

> DAILY SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT PLUG IN FAILED. REBOOTING......

> ACCESSING JOURNAL

Day 4812. Location. South of Fort Monopoly. Condition. Tired.

Eternity have passed since I walked through these endless aisles, yet, I have not expired. Time has lost its meaning. Truths have become inseparable from lies, as the PA system wails above me in saccharine chants. In my walleted heart, the Great Sam knows only these four words to be true.

The Wal is All.

I’ve seen sights you wouldn’t believe. A sky of fluorescent lights. Valleys of discarded shelves. Hills of refuse. Glaciers of refrigeration units. Conga lines of shopping carts stretching for miles. I’ve known plenty who claimed to have escaped through the Gates of Sliding and into the promised lands of the Parking Lots.

Lies.

There is no exit. There is no entrance. There is no end or beginning.

The Wal is All.

It is now a time of tense stability. I thank the Great Sam that the Smilers are still feuding among another like the barbaric Grocery tribes. Years have passed since the last major Sport, departments such as the Stationary Shogunate and the Clothing Kingdoms licking their wounds. Brand gangs patrol and exercise control over their insignificant turfs whilst aislers such as the Dorfs and Cereai take up the mantle of heroism.

To be mad is to be sane.

The Wal is All.

More and more rogue Wal-Tech stalk the shelves with Management constantly releasing new and horrible products. There have been rumors Nevergrow and Amblouceti encroaching on nearby settlements in the Eastern Wal. Just this week, I saw a Security Bot carrying away a poor soul for shoplifting in the Alcohol section. He's probably a Greeter by now. The Fall Seasonal comes closer and the Stockers will soon approach in full force.

Despite our progress, we are still ants walking in the footsteps of monsters.

We are the Wal. We live in the Wal. We die in the Wal.




$$$




//PREMISE


The Wal is All.

Long after a world-shattering nuclear cataclysm known as the Fall, the last remaining survivors have taken refuge inside residential mega-marts owned by the now defunct global conglomerate corporate nation, Wal-Incorporated. Trapped within these colossal superstructures from the horrors of the outside world, these survivors fought amongst one another for control of the resources of the mega-marts and against the malfunctioning robotic Wal-Automatons that once served mankind, now targeting all of humanity as ‘shoplifters’.

Centuries later, humanity has splintered into bands of settlements, the largest and most organised of these settlements being known as ‘Departments’. War and conflict between neighbouring departments wreak the Wal. Religious cults and lunatic gangs prey upon poor aislers, desperate to make a living. Mutants such as giant pigeons, rat-people and giga-roaches now roam the hallways. All the while, the malevolent Management observes from above, plotting and controlling the endless hordes of bots that patrol the mart.

Players take the role of Lifters. Lifters are mercenaries, saleswords, bounty hunters, treasure hunters, any aisler willing to do any job for the right price or coupon. You’re no Bargain Binner but you’re sure as hell no Cheapskate. You also may be slightly insane but in the Wal, madness is a necessity of life and being sane gets you killed.

It is now the end of the 65th Black Friday, with a landmark treaty having been signed between the Stationary Shogunate and the Clothing Dynasties. You, along with a handful of other Lifters, have been hired as ‘expendable’ assets for a cross-Wal expedition funded by the Curators of the Books section. Your responsibilities are simple: to protect the interests of the expedition, to ensure that no life is lost and to survive until the end so you can get paid.

//SETTING






//RULES


1) There will be no mandated time in which you are required to post. However, please do not use this as an excuse to hibernate for one month and suddenly, post again. If you are unable to post, please inform the group or Wal-Master beforehand so I can make the necessary adaptations in order to keep the pace of the game flowing forward.

2) Refer to me as Wal-Master in all official communications.

3) Your characters must be characters, in the sense that they are fully fleshed out and engaging. The character must be able to fit within the context of the setting. Making overpowered characters who forcefully metagame, powergame, god-mod or murderhobo is just not okay or fun. This is a post-apocalyptic roleplay set in a giant Walmart. You will naturally know when your character will stick out like a sore thumb.

4) Any character who have such relations or references to IKEA, Costco or Amazon will be forcefully rejected.

5) I'm strictly a quality over quantity guy when it comes to roleplaying. I'm expecting a rough writing standard that is an impasse between casual and advanced. There is also a semi-strict posting requirement of 2-3 paragraphs per post. If you want to write 10 paragraphs, that's okay in my book. All that I ask is that each post you makes move the RP forward.

6) Do not post any content or material that would violate RPGO's rules. This includes harassment of ethnicity, religion, race or sexual orientation. Violence, gore and more violence is welcome in plenty but any sexually risque material, if any poster has the utmost need to include it, should be done in black or kept in PMs. Rule 6 will also extend to any OOC behavior.

7) Do not ask me for a dedicated Discord channel. All OOC communications will be conducted on RPGO forums. If you have any personal questions, PM me.

8) Always asks any questions that you may have so I can make them into not-questions anymore.

9) There is no set posting order but do not multi-post without giving someone else the chance to do so.

10) Embrace the insanity of the Wal.

11)Worldbuilding and developing your own lore and interpretations of this world is encouraged along with discussion of plot elements. Although I'll primarily drive the main lore that embodies the world, there's plenty of room to write your own visions and own beliefs of how this world would be like.

12) Have fun.
Short answer?

In my completely subjective opinion, no.

Long answer?

How exactly are we going to quantify or define the line where which forum roleplaying has died out? Forum activity on dedicated roleplaying boards? The post frequency of a roleplaying board? The number of members? The average word count of posts?

Forum roleplaying isn't slowing down. It's changing and is large as it has ever been. To constrict your view entirely to experience on RPGO or on the other sites mentioned in this thread is simply naive. There are hundreds of other role-playing forums, roleplaying subforums and let's not even get into the other mediums that have arisen over the years that have called themselves 'forums'. I've seen play-by-post roleplaying sub-forums that dwarf RPGO in size and are still active as they have ever been.

So, to put it shortly, no. Forum roleplaying has not slowed down. It's just changed just as the world and its mediums of communication have.
Meanwhile, the Penta Posse continued arguing behind the twitching corpse of sentient burger meat, still moaning and crying out for the sweet release of death. They were less concerned about dodging the next volley of explosive arrows and more concerned with winning the blame game.

“ Are you telling me we wasted all of our mana, just on that?”

" Jeremiah, you idiot. We're now sitting ducks because of you."

" Yeah, Jeremiah."

" You stupid idiot."

" You useless waste of a finger."

" Why don't we just light him on fire?"

" Everybody, shut up!" In the midst of their arguing, Fred had taken over, the platypus's fingers crooked in a scowl as he raised his head up and down, panting. He then took the mana potion from Clara's hands, whispering a small thank you, before sipping it slowly as if it was a delicate cup of tea. Actually, it was more awkward giving that his host body gurgled it down unnaturally rather than swallowing.

With magic newly renewed in his veins, Fred began to relinquish control to the Penta Posse. Unfortunately, he was interrupted by the pleading noises of the Hamburglar moaning in agony.

" Please, KILL ME." It cried out. " My existence is unbearable. Kill me and let entropy rot my body away into nothingness."

" Don't worry, Mr Hamburglar! I'll volunteer to kill you!" Fred skipped over towards the rolling head of the Hamburglar and stopped at the middle of his eye. Pressing one of his hands against the head, concentrating energy that could bend the will of the fabrics of the universe, only an incantation was needed to focus it into an conduit.

" I cast Summon Twinkie!"

For a moment, nothing appeared to happen. No twinkie was seen nor was there any magical effect. Well, for five seconds until the Hamburglar began twitching, his arms spastically shaking in violent spasms. The twinkie had materialized within the skull of the Hamburglar and displaced what substitute it had for grey matter into mush. There was a whisper of thank you before the Hamburglar became 20 tonnes of decomposing hamburger meat in a grassy field.

The Penta Posse took over, one of the fingers speaking directly towards Clara. " Tell you what, corpse-slinger. We can reconstitute the meat as well as the bones into something bigger and badder. Just tell us when you're ready."

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