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5 days ago
Current If y'all enjoy superpowers, post-apocalyptic scenarios, and a casual environment, come check out my RP!…
2 mos ago
Happy Halloween! Hope y'all have a good one.
2 mos ago
Halloween is forever my aesthetic.
2 mos ago
Good luck, Super!


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@Liotrent The character looks excellent! The only issues that I can see are in the backstory, so I'll go ahead and address it right now so you can fix them. c:
"Wealth" in a traditional sense doesn't quite exist within Liberty's system. You get a flat allowance for indulgences and whatnot, but it isn't the same as money anywhere else. Unless you're in a position high enough to require special protections, everyone lives in the same housing as everyone else, and goes to the same schools. All your basic necessities are taken care of by the state itself, and luxury items, while affordable via the aforementioned allowance (which in turn can be raised by bonuses or taken away from depending on if you do or don't do certain things), are probably fairly limited. The allowance also doesn't stack, either.
It's a complete communist state, cause Liberty preaches equal opportunity hardcore.
I'm also interested in hopping on board. c:
@Rabidporcupine Aight, so. I'll go ahead and start off from the appearance of the slavers, cause it's the most relevant bit of information, but this is essentially what has been happening so far:
- The Wanderers have been at the ranch house for a few weeks now, trying to polish it up and just generally live their life.
- The smell of oranges hit them, and they suddenly found themselves without powers. This nullification field covers the entirety of the ranch and then some, so it's likely that when Nick comes onto the scene, his powers will get snuffed out as well.
- The cause of this nullification revealed himself to be one "Sweet Johnny" Bellataire, the head of the Bellataire corporation, and a cruel slaver "businessman". He rode in on an armored tank, popped out, and offered a deal to the Wanderers to either work with him, or become slaves themselves.
- However, due to the effects of the null, several characters experienced some...interesting side effects. Rei and Drake, whose lives are dependent on their powers, died and are dying respectively, and Eld Fen returned to his Nicodemus persona- immediately joining the slavers afterward, much to the many of the Wanderers' surprise. Nicodemus even went so far as to pin Toby down, and, at the moment, Toby has been captured and collared by Bellataire's forces.
- The mercenary, Specter, shot off a smoke bomb, sending things into chaos. It was also around this time that Bellataire sent in his forces. His men are currently surrounding the ranch house, along with several characters (Pierrot, Specter, Hel, Spire) who were caught outside the house by the time the smoke bomb went off.
- Bellataire's assistant, Mags, got a foot length of wood lodged into her arm by Hel. She took it out, and is still trying to work things out to a peaceful resolution, despite casually bleeding out.
- Gale arrived not too long ago, and is hiding around near the very edges of the ranch territory, watching as things go down.
- In addition, the Wanderers are keeping prisoners- one in the cellar, and one in the attic. Both have been hidden in the face of the Bellataire threat.

So, TL;DR, things are terrible, most of the Wanderers are in the ranch house, Toby has been captured, and Bellataire is an asshole. c:
Hopefully that summary works for you!
@Liotrent Hey, Liotrent! Glad to see you're interested! I know that it can be a bit overwhelming to join a RP that's been going on for a bit now already, but if you need help, you're more than welcome to PM me or one of my Co-GMs to ask questions or for a summary or anything else. I'm looking forward to seeing your character!
@Rabidporcupine Approved!
@Magister That's fine, Magister! I hope you're enjoying family time! c:

@RumikoOhara Witness approved!
@hagroden I’m alive!
The Citadel

“Goodness.” The word slipped out almost subconsciously as Madison slumped in his chair, watching as Commander Botrelle and two of the several Knights escorted Mr. Sairan out of the room. “That was...certainly one way to start the meeting, wasn’t it?” He smiled tentatively. It didn’t seem like it was a joke. Nobody had behaved like it was one. But, on the positive side, it seemed as if the matter was taken with the same uttermost gravity that it deserved.

The smile grew a bit as he glanced over at his fellow Commander, ducking his head gratefully. “It’s alright. I’m just pleased to hear that the Alchemist won’t be getting away with...well. You heard him as well as I did, I suppose.” Madison ran a hand through his hair, sighing, then swiftly recomposed himself in the way Commanders were supposed to in stressful circumstances.

“Well, Commander, I was wondering where you might suggest I should first visit- department-wise, that is. I was originally going to be visiting Gift Research first, but in the light of recent events, I think it might to take a trip to others, first.” Madison wrung his hands.

Much to his surprise, not long after Botrelle had left, another Alchemist slipped out the door without a single word. A serf went in around him, quietly taking out the trash, but Madison was more focus on the sudden disappearance. “That’s fine,” he replied pleasantly. Then his brow furrowed, and he turned back to Green.

“Is it normal at the Citadel to leave a meeting so suddenly?” Madison spoke with genuine confusion. At the Caer Guinevere, leaving in the middle of a meeting like that was unheard of, to say the least. Perhaps the customs of the main base differed, but it seemed best to ask before assuming, lest he make a fool of himself.

Outskirts of Ranch House

Gale liked many things.

He liked games and candy, in the way other boys his age might. He liked poetry and fine clothing. He liked ribbons, he liked sunshine. He liked the scent of aged libraries, of the feeling of a pulse slowly drumming to a still beneath his fingers, the spark it brought to life in his own, hungry chest. He liked classical music, piano in particular, and plays. Most of all, however, Gale liked the freedom granted to him out in the ashlands.

Gale disliked far less things than he enjoyed, but that didn’t mean they didn’t exist. For one, he disliked the restrictions placed upon him by the Wanderers. They complained incessantly when he fed into that needling urge that followed him. They kept him away from the prisoners, when all he wanted to do was help. It was quite the annoyance, really, but since they offered him freedom and security, he “behaved” for them. He was “good”. He kept his distance from the prisoners, and, instead of playing with the unfortunate strangers he stumbled upon, he made do with the local wildlife. It wasn’t the most fulfilling of lifestyles, but he was content- if not a bit bored at times.

Today, he found himself strolling back to the ranch, hands bloodied and that nagging itch satisfied for the time being. Gale sang as he walked- humming the bars from some orchestra he heard back in his Erubescian days- the bag in his hand swinging with every step. He had been thoughtful enough to collect the mangled bodies from his latest expedition for the group’s dinner. Perhaps he’d give some to Miss Reith. He enjoyed watching her eat.

Gale paused in his trek at the scent of oranges, and a sudden...strange feeling. His movements felt sluggish, his limbs weak. Surprised, he took a few steps back, and the feeling was gone.

A few steps forward, and it was back.


As an experiment, he attempted to release his claws, but found him unable to do so. Shifting held the same results. His powers, for whatever reason, were completely gone. Overcome with a sudden curiosity, Gale rolled up his sleeve, brought his arm to his mouth, and bit down. It was a bit difficult- his human teeth were far less easier to work with than fangs- but he eventually managed to tear away a patch of flesh. No pain, however. That was disappointing.

Frowning, Gale spat the skin onto the ground, wiping his face clean of the mess. He moved on.

It took only a short while longer of walking to discover what was likely the source of this phenomenon. In the distance, he could quite clearly see an armored vehicle loitering in front of the ranch house, along with a collection of men armed to the teeth. There was a struggle, a fight, although his view from there on was blocked by a cloud of fog. Gale watched in silence for a few moments, adjusting the bag at his side.

Then, he turned and walked away to hide himself.

Without his powers, he was, in essence, a regular child. A fight against a group of armed men would end poorly, to say the least. He didn’t delude himself of otherwise.

Gale liked conflict.

But he liked his freedom even more.

On two city walls, many miles apart, two recruitment posters have been put up.

One, the first, is printed on glossy paper, a black chess-piece, that of a king, into the bottom. It it set on a wall of rustic brick, similar in many ways to the defensive town walls of old Europe:

Do you love your faction?
Do you love your King?
Do you want to be a hero?

Now is the time to join the proud Erubesco Military.
Become a proud Knight, a stoic Acolyte, a studious Alchemist.
Fight for freedom and individuality!

In Liberty, there is no art. No culture. People live only to work and die.
We of Erubesco refuse to debase ourselves thus. We refuse to be held back by the petty notions of small minds.
Trust in Our King and crusade for what is right.
Our decisions may be difficult ones. Sacrifices may have to be made in the name of the cause, but within each Erubescian beats the heart of a hero, and we will never, ever surrender!

Join the Knights, Join the Fight!

The second is set up on a noticeboard on a clean, grey wall in a well-kept square.
It is in greyscale and formatted for complete clarity:

Notification of Draft

Notification that all Liberty Citizens of fighting age not assigned to exempt career positions are required to aid in the war effort. All Citizens of our glorious faction must stand together against the degenerate menace of Erubesco. This debauched and decadent monstrosity will soon collapse under the weight of its own greed, and the world will be a place of unity, equality, and uniformity. This is a dream we all share.

Trust in the wisdom of The Council to lead us to victory.

Reminder to all Liberty Citizens: The penalty for draft evasion is immediate detention to re-infer Liberty ideals. All department members must report for their assigned duties.

-Councillor Blue
Liberty Dept of Defense

Far outside the walls of both polished, gleaming cities, is little else but ash. A man wanders alongside his companion, a cigarette hanging loosely from his bottom lip. Hand-made. Can’t really get anything too fancy without dabbling in with the factions, and both of them had offed a few Knights and Agents in their time. Out of necessity, and for the hell of it, to be honest.

“Real dry day, ain’t it?”

Brett gave an idle glance towards the other, Noris. He gave the guy far more grief than he deserved about the name, really- what kind of merc was named Noris?- but he didn’t feel like stopping any time soon. If the man was going to get all fussy about it, he had plenty of opportunities to just slit his throat in his sleep. He felt like they had a sort of rough camaraderie going on. Real “blood brothers” type of deal. That didn’t stop Brett from snorting at the man, blowing a swirl of smoke into his face.

“Course it is. When is it not dry out here?”

“I meant with the target. Think they’ve slipped off too far?”

“Naw.” Brett paused, flicking the cigar from his lip onto the ground. His foot stamped out the dying light. “Tracks are still good. ‘Sides, there’s a trading town up north. Probably resting there, if they’ve got much common sense.”

Noris grunted. He did that a lot. Not a real talkative fella. Brett didn’t mind. Left him more time to get his thoughts out. Cracking his knuckles, he lifted his dust mask up over his face and tied it into security. It wouldn’t be too long until the next dust storm, and anyone out in it without proper protection would be shit out of luck.

Made tracking hard as hell, but the actual hunting part a lot more interesting.

Hey, there! I’m Echo, GM of “A Truly “Gifted” Life”, and out to recruit some new blood to get things pumping this fine day. You can find the roleplay HERE if you’re interested- I won’t repeat all the plot stuff on there, as it would bog up the interest check, so feel free to browse through it at your own leisure. c:

ATGL is a long-running roleplay taking place in a large, grim open world. Rather than following just one singular storyline or plot, there’s various storylines and sub-plots that take place throughout the roleplay. In ATGL, we hope to offer a wide variety of things to appeal to all sorts of people. Do you enjoy bloody, grisly fighting between countries, and squabbles between survivors? We’ve got you there. Do you enjoy superpowers? Superpowers are pretty much mandatory. Political scheming and intrigue? Tense allies and tentative friendships? The artistic freedom to write a character who wears a fish mask every hour of every day in the post apocalyptic ashlands, speaking with a falsified French accent? We’ve got all of that.

Think of the Fallout series on drugs, blended with a few unique, extremist countries at each other’s throats, and some other fun stuff in the mix.

So, to summarize, this is what ATGL hopes to offer:

- A rich open world, rife with possibilities.

- A casual posting rate.

- A bunch of groups, storylines, sub-plots, and events for your characters to squeeze into.

- Active, dedicated and helpful RPers, complete with their own Discord channel.

- Your chance, over time, to integrate some of your own lore and ideas into the world.

What we at ATGL ask in return:

- Reliability. We aren’t asking anyone to put their real life on hold for the roleplay or anything. We have no worries about players being unable to post constantly, but we’d prefer players that join, then wind up not posting or just vanish into the blue without a word. It holds scenes up and makes planning immensely difficult.

- Maturity. There’s two parts to that specific request. ATGL is a grim world with dark themes such as violence, death, and other nasty things that come with a future dystopian setting. We’d also like you to be able to handle OOC issues calmly and politely.

- Creativity. There’s room for all sorts of characters and ideas. Go wild!

So, if all of this interests you, drop on by the board! Feel free to PM me or either of my lovely Co-GMs ( @Magister and @ScoundrelQueen) if you’ve got any questions, comments or concerns, or post on here! We’d love to have you join up!
Hope to see y’all soon. :)
Goodness, I've always had a soft spot for supernatural-esque organizations fighting other supernaturals. I'll definitely be keeping an eye on this one, and might join if I have the time/if it's not too much of a bother for me to throw my lot in. c:
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