Sigil

Human Occupied Landfill

I will emphasize further, if you do not possess the books, it's not a problem. Don't need them to make and play a character. Point of fact, it's probably best if you don't.

Many people who do own the books would agree.

Human Occupied Landfill

@Jerkchicken
If you're referring to the BUTTery HōLsomeness supplement, then yes. Just don't go completely apeshit with the character gen quirks.

The Seventh Division: AW2

@Palindromatic
Have at PsyGen. I was trying to work Psychogenerative into something the media might use, or the military for short (ie Viet Cong becomes V.C.). You can call the OOC post a test run for later IC stuff.

So yeah, use away.

Forgotten Realms: Tales of the Dead

"Ey, look over there." the large man muttered to his knightly compatriot. "Looks like someone pissed on an anthill, eh?"

Looking at Reverin's tower, and the possible way in, Keystone decided that it was best to give a quick scout inside first. The soldiery was all up-in-arms about something, that's for sure, and one or two more bodies won't do a whole lot of good at the wall. One or two more bodies with magical goodies would do a bit better. If they couldn't do better, at least they would know an excellent spot in which to hole up.

<ahem> A potentially profitable place in which to hole up.

"I think we needs to peep the inside of this place first, Raa. Soldiers are doing soldier work, maybe we can 'elp the common folk out after this rock's tossed, y'think?"

Keystone recovered his pack and made for the hole in the fence. Setting his teeth, he maneuvered inside.

Human Occupied Landfill

(Skip straight to the OOC HERE.)

To better explain the depths to which this particular topic will bring you, as seasoned RPers, I shall have to paraphrase from The Book Of Human Occupied Landfill, at least at first. So, without further ado, I present…

Hōl: A game

This RP will fuck you up. We swear.

It will make you take drugs whose chemical composition is beyond the spelling capacity of the GM. You will begin a prostitution ring made up of fourteen-year-olds and destitute nuns. Eventually, of course, you will most likely leap from the balcony of your local theatre with seven running chainsaws strapped to various parts of your body. There’s a good chance it will be the matinee showing of BAMBI as well.

So, if you feel like ending your days by being the center of attention in a big, hard, humming chair, please read on. And submit a character in the CS section.

Thank you for your time, worship the Antichrist, and have a nice day.

But enough of these pleasantries. The nuts and bolts of this RP are rather simple; you are a prisoner. Can’t be avoided, sorry, them’s the breaks. But we’ll get back to that. It is the far, far future. Humanity has colonized the entirety of the galaxy, and we’re all very proud of ourselves, except that we’ve transformed our ideals of justice, freedom, and decency into a dystopic quagmire of suckdom and mediocrity. The saddest part is that the average Joe the Plumber doesn’t even realize it. But, it could be worse! You could be stuck on Hōl! …wait, you are… Ok, getting back to that later.

Every dystopian future needs completely self-absorbed hedonistic assholes running it. This power is divided between two major offices:

Rupert IX, Emperor of the Confederation of Worlds (C.O.W.), and

His Holiness, Rashneesh “Big Stevie” Zimmerman, Megapope and CEO of Our Lord’s Church, Inc.

You’ll meet them, or at least representatives of their awesomely bulky and oppressive power. They’re everywhere. Not so much on Hōl, but they’re still around.

But what is Hōl, you inquire? How to explain… Image a once lush, green world in the ass end of space, surrounded by NOTHING. Lots and lots and lots of NOTHING. A huge, veritable cosmically exponentially vast grouping of NOTHING in one place, at one time, all surrounding what one day would become Hōl. Now imagine that some asshat (or some two asshats) decided to use this lush, green world to be the dumping ground for the rest of the colonized planets. And hazardous waste disposal site. And spot to cram every tossed disposable diaper. And industrial machinery graveyard. You have an entire planet utterly skullfucked by the powers that be, that for some reason still retains a breathable atmosphere.

So, in a prancing leap of logic, the Powers That Be decide that it’s be a WONDERFUL place to keep all of their worst criminals and social rejects. Then their second-worst criminals. Then people who may rise to positions of authority that don’t agree with them. Then anyone who’s above average and can’t directly help them maintain their horrific status quo. Finally, any excess accountants.

Generally, your characters will not be accountants.

There are creatures who dwell here by choice, but for the most part you really don’t want to meet them. Sharing the #1 spot are the Fleshtenders and the Sodomy Bikers. There are Cannibalistic Accountants, Nortons, Uncle Mickee, Crickets, Necrodoodles, Wastits, and Dump Technicians, as well. Just naming a small handful of painful and/or useful NPCs you likely don’t want to meet unless you really, really have to. Oh yes – for you purists – there are Orcs.

The goal of this RP is not to free the people, nor is it to effect social change. No, your primary goal is to NOT DIE. At least at first. Considering the life span of the average guest of the Hotel Hōl post-arrival is seven to nine seconds, you have your work cut out for you. If you’re one of the lucky few not to be spread thin over the planet’s uncertain surface like so much sticky convict marmalade your first half-hour in, your secondary goal, still, is not to die. Or more specifically, survive in this environment that is the very definition of Hostile.

If you can eek out an existence under these conditions, you then try to escape.

But beware! Hōl has a way of changing people. You’re going to drop in there a fresh, nubile young mass murderer/psychopath/animal porker/mime/accountant/regular guy/DWB, but you’ll leave a very, very different person. Ok, so you probably won’t leave, but there will be a lot of changing before you die in a fusillade of plasma fire or chainsaw colonoscopy. Or both, probably both.

If you already know the game system, GREAT! Otherwise, we’ll have to have a series of PMs to get a workable character together. Doesn’t have to be massive or special, no paragon or hero needed. But do consider this: the bigger you are, the bigger the opposition I will slam in front of you.

So, who’s interested?

Forgotten Realms: Tales of the Dead

@DMZ
Question - the exchange with the guard recruits; did we hear that or was it flavor text to let us know an action sequence was forthcoming?

Personally, I think an hour break to get a quick peek in the tower is a capital idea.

Forgotten Realms: Tales of the Dead

Couldn't say, though I am experiencing something similar. Whenever I get into an RP board, I usually hang around in the background until I establish a group of like-minded weirdos and keep inviting the same four or five into whatever RP I'm running or just getting involved with.

Eventually, the small group winds up being the major players in whatever RP individual members are running at the time. Haven't gotten there yet with Roleplayerguild, only been on a month. Hopeful, though.

Times like this, I tend to blame the metric system. No particular reason, just flash back to Pulp Fiction. You know what they call D&D in Amsterdam? RP with cheese...

Forgotten Realms: Tales of the Dead

Experiencing a similar sense of deceleration with my Other Guys RP. Eh.

The Seventh Division: AW2

No, no, that reaction still makes sense. He was employed directly by the military and government until the Sixth Division, wasn't born a PsyGen, and generally had an amount of enmity and distance among many of the other members. That reaction, in or out of context, may very well still be valid.

Just wanted to point out that my lack of clarification about his messages may have skewed the intent.

The Seventh Division: AW2

Hmm... Perhaps I should have clarified that the series of messages put out that seem to say "I'm listening" would be more accurately translated into "If you want to talk, I'm listening". The way @McHaggis has it, Dante is some kind of creepy stalker type, listening in on unsuspecting former associates.

Ordinarily, he'd be absolutely correct; it's otherwise a good assumption.