𝕮𝖔𝖎𝖓𝖘Order and Chaos, Chaos and Order
Two opposing forces... Think of a coin, tossed into the air and landing upon the ground. One side faces up, basking in the Sun. It takes in the light, the glory, the warmth. Some would even say it’s the winning side. The other side? It faces the Earth. On that side there’s nothing but shadow, cold, and dirt. Everyone wants to be on the light-side. The thing is… Sometimes it’s hard to tell which side is which.
That’s Order and Chaos. One side takes in the glory; the other is steeped in shadows. One is revered; the other, forlorn. The light-side of the coin? People will tell you it’s Order. People think, then, that Order is Good, but Good and Evil are different from Order and Chaos. So how do you know what side is actually facing up? Which side is facing in the heavens? Which side is staring down to the depths?
That’s the thing. Nobody can tell you which side is which. Or rather, you can’t trust anybody to tell you the truth. The whole ‘history is written by the victors’ and ‘lions don’t have their own historians’ thing… You can’t rely on society, history, or The System to tell you what’s right. You have to figure it out for yourself. Sometimes, you can
Sometimes you realize you’re on the wrong side.
That’s Order and Chaos, Chaos and Order.
Some of us just seemed to be plagued by Fate. Destined to be opposed by the world. Whether or not you recognize that you’re wrong or the world’s wrong, the whole goddamn globe is your opposition. That’s what happens when you take on “The Man”, “Them”, society’s shadowy puppeteers. The people in control— they always think they’re right. What do you think?
Actually, I’m not sure your opinion really matters. You probably think you’re all mighty and righteous too, don’t you? Taking on global arms dealers and crime syndicates that deal in death for profit, fighting secret societies orchestrating terrorist attacks to manipulate and create wars at a whim, or challenging shadow corporations as they manipulate politics on a level that surely disregards the world’s delegates… Sure, sounds nice in principle, but when you boil it all down and get rid of all the buzzwords and boogeymen, you know what you are. A criminal, a misfit, a societal reject.
In the eyes of your peers, you’re the problem. You’re
the bad guy. So again, what do you
think? Which side of the coin are you on? Which side is the right
side? Are you Order or are you Chaos? Which is Good and which is Evil? Do you think someone as small and insignificant as you could even have the answers? Maybe society’s right. Maybe you are the villain in the story of objectivity.
Are you ready to continue on your little crusade anyways? Do I still have your attention?
Where were you when it happened? Do you even remember? Would it have mattered?
June 6th, 2019. City newsboards, televisions, and cell phone screens lit up, synchronized by a thousand bewildered broadcasts. Each anchor, channel, and website competed for coverage, but the police lines shutting off the entire block, the mysterious event sparked a national interest. All eyes were on New York City, and that’s just what they wanted.
An eighty story high-rise known as ‘the Beacon’ houses enough luxury businesses, high class restaurants, offices for New York’s top magnates, tech companies, and security firms to drive an entire small town out of business with its presence. The building itself is heralded as a sort of living entity, run off of the blood and wealth of the upper class. All the ordinary folk— the rats in the rat race— wouldn’t even consider going inside most of the building. Despite the enticing allure of dining and mingling with the machines that run the city, security is usually through the roof to safeguard the mile-high estates on the Beacon’s suite levels, or protect whatever the newest software secrets are that emerge from the research labs on the Beacon’s upper levels.
3:33 pm, it all started. After that, no one in or out of the building. They barred the doors from the inside. Within minutes, all emergency exits were similarly blocked off. The police didn’t respond until 3:41 pm. That was when the block surrounding the building was evacuated and roped off by the walls of police vans and SWAT vehicles. The barren block of NYC was then inhabited only by the snipers and spotters that zipped in between rooftops as they tried to get an idea of what was going on inside. Everyone that had been inside the building had been radio silent since the lockdown. The police were quiet about the events inside, but as security ramped up and all sorts of new black vans joined the frontlines, secrets leaked out. Every news outlet was convinced it was a terrorist attack, though the mysterious party responsible was unknown. Hundreds were unaccounted for, assumed to be in a hostage situation, and all American eyes were on the Beacon.
Every now and then, the media would explode with a blurry photo of a masked figure toting Kalashnikov or shotgun in the window, but still there was no radical message released, no demands, nothing. The silence only built the tension, but America had no choice but to go about their regular days, sideways glances glued to televisions in office break rooms, one headphone in the ear tuned into radio coverage as they made their commute. Things came to a head at 5:40 pm when the power to the building was cut. Exactly one hour and 13 minutes later police, SWAT, and all other sorts of suits stormed the Beacon. Helicopters dropped squads in through the roof access. The glass front doors were busted through as entire armies marched into the building. Word would soon come that all 80 storeys of the building had been cleared. Hostages had been secured in various locations. No culprits, however, were located. Any of the hostages who had any idea what was going on had little information to give, but were quickly whisked off to whatever top secret interrogation rooms were vacant nearby. Some of the people trapped in the building hadn’t even known what was going on.
The party responsible remained at large, as though they’d just vanished. No one was gunned down. No zealous message was broadcasted. People couldn’t help but wonder what it was all for, and if there was more to come… Homeland Security had a field day thereafter. Border security was tightened despite speculations of the threat being domestic. The only thing the populace could be sure of was that there was more to the story then what was told to the people.
But of course, you remember all that. You have a vivid memory of that day. It affected you personally in some way, didn’t it? Maybe you knew someone inside. Maybe you saw something strange at one of the police lines. Maybe you caught a glimpse into one of the Beacon’s windows from an adjacent building. Maybe you’ve already forgotten about it. So many others already seem to have forgotten. After all, it doesn’t seem to have affected your life anyway, save for drastically increasing American tensions regarding domestic threats. Two weeks passed.
Who the hell are you; Who the hell am I?
You love to think you don’t fit in, you’re a misfit, you’re out of place, different from everybody else
, don’t you? Don’t fool yourself. Look around. You’re in just the right place, at a loss for purpose. Alongside all the other derelict souls of New York City, you wander, thinking your different from the other drones. You wander and wander without knowing what you’re looking for. That’s how you ended up there, the bar specifically for your type of individual. You didn’t know the name of the joint— didn’t care, just went in and sat down to join the duped masses, drowning in drinks. That’s where you met him.
On first glance, he looked like he belonged their too, but as he caught your eye, you noticed he was different. He didn’t carry himself like the rest of them. His movements were crisp, driven by a purpose. Despite walking with a cane, he moved with a confidence rooted in his bones. He saw you staring. He offered you a drink. Every conversation starts with small talk. Usually it’s dull and boring— the weather, the local sports teams, “how was your day”, all that. He was different. He jumped straight into the incident at the Beacon, which certainly wasn’t an uncommon topic among the people over the past two weeks. There was something eerie about his description of the events, though. He knew the answer to every one of his own questions. He was testing your
knowledge of the ordeal. Eventually, he brought up your specific circumstances at the event. Maybe you didn’t notice, too steeped over in your own drink. He offered you another.
That’s when things got good. The mystery man really caught your attention with a wild theory of his own regarding the attack on the Beacon, except it was quite just a theory. That’s where you learn about ‘Pyramid Microsystems’. He tells you that this corporation, a small parts manufacturer contracted by the American military had something to do with the attack. He tells you that Pyramid is indirectly responsible for the attack. He says it’s all going to happen again, except the second time around Pyramid is going to put on a little show. Their newest product, an anti-terror defense weapons system is just coming out of the prototype stage, and it needs to be shown in action if the buyers are going to line up. You know how advertising goes…
Here’s the real kicker. Your new mystery contact? He tells you that you
can help stop the fake attack. He tells you he needs you, that you could be an integral part of the team that takes down Pyramid. You. Little old you. The nobody. The lost soul. The derelict.
He needs you to give up life as you know it and devote yourself to taking down Pyramid. He doesn’t tell you why. You forgot to ask. The crazy offer certainly isn’t one that anyone can take lightly. The man seems to understand this. He tells you to think about the offer. Perhaps if you weren’t so saturated by his expensive cocktails, you might have asked ’How will I contact you?’
He never did say, just urging you to make a decision as he got up from his stool and wandered towards the door. You did get at least one useful question in before he reached the door at the very least, something you’d forgotten to ask all throughout your hour-long talk. How impolite.
“What’s your name?”
A series of interconnected coincidences...
You didn’t forget about the offer. Perhaps it was pushed to the back of your mind, but it sat there, pervading into your daily thoughts. It was as if the strange offer was taunting you. Could you really just leave the life you had and enwrap yourself in the affairs of arms dealers, global-scale politics, and homeland security? You weren’t sure, but the yearning was always there.
And you yearned and yearned more and more until the file came. No postage, just an envelope with a file folder. Inside, all your instructions were laid out in detail for you, albeit not without their own ambiguities. Such a dangerous offer wasn’t without its enticing rewards, however. Gage was sure to get across that you would be taken care of after your acceptance. Alongside the papers in your folder was $1,000 in freshly printed notes, a small key, and a sealed envelope. Opening your envelope, you became privy to a detail about the June 6th attack that seemed fiction; a SECRET of unfathomable pricelessness. Was it enough to lure you in for more?
This was your chance to change it all, to escape the rat-race, the derelict city; this was your chance to re-find yourself and do something good. Gage’s message wasn’t without its warnings, however. The uniform text told you that your acceptance required your unflinching loyalty and belief. There was no turning back. A once in a lifetime offer, and all you had to do was arrive on time at the Grand Averis Bank, use the enclosed key to open your new safety deposit box and await instructions. So what’s it going to be?
Welcome to 𝕮𝖔𝖎𝖓𝖘! In this roleplay, each of us will take on the role of one member of Gage’s newly formed crew, each a lost soul seeking a reinvigoration in purpose as their city crumbles around them. Each crew member has had a cursory run-in with Pyramid Microsystems or the June 6th attack, and this is what starts the curiosity that takes them down the rabbit hole. Seeking to change the world, each of the characters opts to accept the offer to join the mysterious crew despite having no idea what they might be in for. As 𝕮𝖔𝖎𝖓𝖘 carries on, the cast will be introduced to a series of great threats to worldly order and humanity. They will be forced to walk the fine line of morality, compromising values they once held dear to protect against even greater evils in the world. Will it all be worth it?
General themes present in 𝕮𝖔𝖎𝖓𝖘 will revolve around the team dynamic that unifies the group of misfits that gave up their lives for a cause only to realize they’ll have to give much more than that. Becoming something of a fugitive organization, you characters will suddenly be forced to live alongside one another while undertaking a variety of dangerous operations in pursuit of their ultimate (though rather ambiguous) goal. Pyramid Microsystems is only the beginning. Together, you will have to uncover what secret orders may be at play that direct the forces of the world. You will have to discover the purpose of your employment and who your mysterious employer is. You will have to choose between compromising your values and doing what is right in the long run.
Plots & The Story So Far:
►Follow all of the Guild’s rules and don’t metagame or powergame.
►This is an Advanced RP, so I hope to keep us all to these standards. While I know that quality is greater than quantity, try to keep your posts a bit longer (3 or so paragraphs at the very least) as that tends to move us along through action while also being descriptive of your situation.
►Be friendly and respectful to the rest of the group. If any sort of problem comes up, hash things out respectfully.
►Don’t be afraid to bring up issues that may arise so that we can talk through things and solve any problems. I’d prefer us all to be on a friendly page.
►This story necessitates heavy participation, discussion, and active pursuit of new subplots and roleplay. I urge you all to push for your own roleplay as much outside of the main plot to develop your characters.
►While I would like everyone to be posting on a semi-regular basis, I understand that issues may arise and we all get busy. My main pursuit is to keep this roleplay going regardless of what roadblocks we may hit, so if you need to take a temporary leave of absence where you can’t post, just let me know. The most important part of keeping this RP active is to keep me updated regularly as to whether your writing, unable to write, etc. That being said, if you are unable to post for an extended period of time, I will likely control your character as an NPC if the story needs to move along.
►This story will have 18+ themes, as violence and descriptive combat will play a large role in portions of the roleplay. Please keep that in mind. While you don’t have to go into graphic detail, expect rattling violence from ruthless aggressors.