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Hamartia

Hamartia Open

Meh private for now between myself annnd almostinsane.

Owner: Fammikins
Game Masters: Fammikins
Tags: action, dystopia, horror, steampunk, survival, whimsical (Add Tags »)
Requires Approval: Yes

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Introduction

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Plotline & Area info: The electric walls keep the city in. The steel gates keep the outside out. The great leader of the city promises to always protect his citizens... so long as they swear to always abide by his every word and action.

The frail citizens, too scared and weak to protect themselves, live out controlled and empty lives. Most of their homes are in the slums, and the industrial section of the city houses the factories the people make their money in. A bazaar in the central portion of the city features all the markets, right next to the farmlands. The northernmost portion of the city is feared by all - the utmost caution is taken when treading near the leader's giant fortress. Just behind, however, lays the stadium where the people watch the leader's races; dangerous races of death, where only the top three will ever survive.

An underground rebellion has gathered together in the most unnoticed corners of the slums and industrial center. Together, they plan, in secret, their ways to restore the city to the glory it should have. Led by an unseen figure who works through a questionably sane young woman, this team works bit by bit, undercover as if normal citizens, thus far unseen...

Note: the Rebels have an underground gang led by a Godchild. The RP has many high-tech gizmos and gadgets.

There is also drug reference in the RP. Some realistic drugs may be used, but the most popular and desired is dragon salt. Dragon salt is a tampered substance snuck in from the outside, anyone can be a seller or user. It's main form are small, crystal, citrus colored cubes with soft corners, they are multi-colored often and hold shades of red and amber


Dragon salt: uses include injection, snorting, smoking, eating/mixing with food or beverage. It smells like cinnamon and vinegar and in any form is always a flaming tint. This drug is nearly like crystal meth but without the same consequences as dragon salt has its own ending. Nicknames for the drug include scorch, rocky road, fire gecko and iris fire.

Level of users

-Level 1: Alright, you were just a tad curious and thought hey, a little hit won't kill me. It sure got you thinking about it a lot and getting another nibble though. No symptoms.
-Level 2: Oops. You're hooked. It's not as if you're selling random crap to get it, but whenever it's available, you'd fight for it and do whatever it takes to have it all to yourself. You're starting to explore each and every method possible to toy around with your buzz. The tops of your hands and wrists start to redden and harden, often prone to bleeding.
-Level 3: You need dragon salt. Now. Dammit. If you don't get your fix daily then you're liable to major irritability, violence, and recklessness. The underside of your wrists have hardened by now and the skin is chaffed, often cracking open to secrete blood or excess dragon salt substance.
-Level 4: Whenever you sweat, your pores sweat that sickly sweet smell of dragon salt. This only spurs you on to find more, fast. You're at the point of selling off your things just for a handful of the pretty gems. Your eyes will begin to bleed, starting at each iris to dye the sclera crimson before leaking out of your tear ducts over time.
-Level 5: Unless you have a loving, patient family member or friend, you're screwed. Level 5 is the final level and will make it a final year of living for you. Orange crystals begin forming at random along your features, sizes vary. Crystals can weld over your mouth and nostrils which is a main cause of death, or start sprouting on your insides.


Ranks-[from highest to lowest; Rebels/City.]
note; any rank above Piccolo can only be given to those who are involved with a side, the Rebels or the City. Neutral characters can only select something from Piccolo or lower.

Capo: [unplayable ranks for joiners, Godchildren may not use guns]
Godfather/Mayor
Godchild/Military Leader[s]

Soldato: [big weapons]
Bodyguards/Military
Grunt/Guard

Ombra: [light weapons]
Agent/Spy
Leech/Torpedo
Hacker

Piccolo: [no weapons, unless specified Undocumented]
Dealer/Trader
Entertainment
Service
Undocumented

Basso: [no weapons for Hostages]
Hostages
Criminals


Capos are the Absolute; the leaders. The Godfather rules over the Rebels with the Godchildren right below them. Likewise for the Mayor/Baron, his Military Leaders work under him as well. Whatever a Capos words are, you should roll along with it or answer to the Soldato.



Soldatos; loyal soldiers to their chosen path.

Bodyguards- Bodyguards solely watch over the Godchildren, there are at least two at a time, one to accompany either Godchild. They aren't babysitters although somedays it may feel like it. Bodyguards get to boss around Grunts.

Military- likewise any militia goers jealously protect their Capos as well as any buildings clearly for their Capos’ use only. Military bases are also off limits to non-Military peoples. Military figures can bark orders at Guards.

Grunts- ruthless fighters for the Rebels and often get direct orders from Bodyguards. They tend to cause the most chaos. A few Grunts often accompany Gene for some raids if she decides to lead one. [note: if you plan on being a Grunt who will join Gene in a raid, please PM Fam first]

Guards- basically modern day paladins. They take their job seriously and see the Rebels as nothing but a cancerous blemish within Hamartia.



Ombra; living shadows with a no-questions-asked policy. Also combined with dangerous computer junkies as a team.

Agent- they’re ruthless killers with a passion for vengeance. Most have felt cheated in the past by the city and the Mayor. After honing their skills and passing a few tests, including loyalty persuasions, they gained rank in the Rebellion.

Spy- sneaky little weasels. They aren’t as assassin-orientated as Agents, but that won’t stop them from killing someone who knows too much. Spies typically attempt to seek out higher ranked Rebels for extraction, taking them hostage at times.

Leeches- untrained contractors that work/train under a leading Agent.

Torpedo- the same as a Leech, save for their loyalty of course.

Hacker- these guys don’t shirk their duty and play online video games too often. Some are typical nerds, others will surprise you. These guys work directly with Agents and Leeches, as well as Spies and Torpedoes. Both the Rebel cause and the City government has its fair share of hackers.



Piccolo; those everyday sort of people that just make things work right.

Dealers- the Rebellion needs you. You supply them with decent equipment of just about everything and anything that you can get your hands on. Since you’re all for the Rebels, you work in a deep basement in a well locked lower department of one of the Rebel bases, if you want to. Otherwise feel free to have an open shop in the city bazaar.


Traders- the city cause doesn’t need you as much, but its citizens do. Sometimes authority figures purchase items from you; you have a hefty stock since the Mayor supports you. Rebels will often trash your shop so it’s a good idea to make some Military friends.

Entertainment- celebrity status, television, movies, and music still circle around the younger generation. The city has its own celebrities, but jobs are hard to come by due to low payments. Dancers, singers, movie makers, and tv hosts just don’t make what they used to.

Service- this can be anything from working in a specific business to owning the shop itself. Business owners often work closely with Undocumented individuals by selling and trading. They also can be a part of larger companies such as the ones that sell pure water and food. Or technical, working closer with the Entertainment groupings at television stations. Most large companies work very close with government officials.

Undocumented- they do random jobs here or there. Mainly looking out for themselves, they'll most likely try to bring in someone with a high bounty from either side. Depending, of course, on pay and their personality.




Basso: the nobodies of either society.

Hostages- can be taken from either side. Those taken as hostage with the Rebels are often play things for the more sinister Godchild.

Criminals- Crime lords are also a business in their own. Like the mafia, they join together in groups under the same name for every city sector. They work together against the government and choose their leaders within their organization. Of course, not all criminals will be in a big gang. Some prefer to go solo.


Setting


Hamartia: the city itself. Surrounding it are daunting steel walls and within it are the means for a home, marketplace, shops and various other buildings. Covers a wide range of territory which it protects so jealously from the outside. Railroad tracks connect everywhere throughout the city but some lines are only for specific ranks. The main station itself is located in the center of Hamartia and has proven to be a place of political power.


Streets: the streets are home to many stray steam animals, regular animals, or wandering cyborgs. Littered with various debris and sometimes filled with wigged out junkies. Beneath the streets are the sewers.


Marketplace: enveloped in a protective dome the market is situated directly below the central train station of Hamartia. All goods can be sold, bought or even traded. And stolen. Beware of thieves.

List of shops and services: [PM Fam to get yours added]
Gene Co; Owned by Gene, come spruce yourself up or even your steamed friends!


Harbor: located to the far south of the city the harbor is home to many sailors and steamed animals who strive to better ship welfare. Pirates haven't been sighted in years.


Slums: located beyond the harbor in a part of the old city the slums are a favored spot of junkies, prostitutes and the clinically insane who have failed to be admitted to a recreational facility. Houses the city's junkyard.


Aviary: home to air ships and blimps the aviary is home to various winged steamed creatures as well as people with built in wings attached to themselves.


Race track: coming soon

Rules

1. Basic site regulations apply

2. PM examples must be given; entitle the example PM "Dragon Salt Lick"

3. Working for both sides can get your character killed

4. Beware of dragons

5. Please type a bare minimum of one paragraph for your posts

6. This RP is currently private between myself and almostinsane

7. Rules can be added and modified as I see fit


Code: Select all

    [B]Username:[/B]
    [B]Character name:[/B]
    [B]Age:[/B]
    [B]Race:[/B] [no limits, make up your own even. Just add a brief description]
    [b]Alliance:[/b] Rebels, Neutral, City
    [B]Job: [/B]
    [b]Rank:[/b]
    [B]Weapon[s]:[/B] [very limited]
    [B]Personality:[/B]
    [B]Appearance:[/B] [reference pictures are fine, add at least a paragraph of description. Link all pictures; anime and real photos are unacceptable]
    [B]Goals:[/B]
    [B]Other: [/B]
    [b]Theme song:[/b] "TITLE" by [ARTIST]

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Character Portrait: Peter Parkinson "Now, press that button to trigger the spikes."

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OOC Notes

# Hamartia, 2011-02-08 18:27:20, as written by Fammikins
The tattered hem of her shirt skirt ruffles about her thighs. Against her motorcycle her fishnet stockings stand out a bit. With her skirt being short, top and bottom, her twinkling lavender navel decoration is visible. perfect bait for the dealer she's targeting tonight. They've known each other for nearly a year now. And Gene can honestly say that Skunk has earned her trust and more specific attentions. Not only does he give her a sweet fix, he's a hell of a good fuck.

It's a short ride through the dim streets of the city. The sun has just begun to set. People are coming home from work and various other errands, starting the grave shift, or like Gene out doing miscreant deeds. On her corset the silk ribbons flutter their short lengths along her slender torso. Wandering along the slick slums she halts Toxin at a rundown looking building. Of course she within the heart of the industrial section of the slums. Giant cogs, coils, pipes, garbage and tires litter the streets as well as the alleys. Gene feels most comfortable here however. The meglomaniac is one of the many love children of this city, here in these slums. Lurking to the crumbling steps she scales a behemoth gear to get inside, twisting her body through a small opening. Most buildings are strategically littered with junk to keep out the only undesirables in the slums; anyone with lawful authority.

The junky lands heavily on her platform, belted boots. A few users are already in the building all nice and high. Within herself Gene feels that need. Her body gets shaky and a cold sweat begins to dot along her skin. She walks quickly now, ignoring the cat calls of those she's yet to sleep with and the greetings of those she's already bedded. Galloping like a horse she slams open a few doors before coming upon Skunk's office. Lounging in a creaky chair with a cigarette in one hand, he flicks the ash from his fingerless gloves. Skunk has on his traditional hoodie, all black save for the single stripe going down the back. Even his eyes are striped in a similar fashion. On his lips are spider piercings, something they both also enjoy aside from dragonsalt. Self mutilation/decor. Skunk smiles as she leans over his desk. Gene parts her untethered lips, scraping their piercings together as she moves to speak in his ear, hot breath dusting his cheek and ear. "Hey Skunk baby...I need a few hits. My glass garden in the basement came up short this year." she shrieks with laughter as the equally eager man pins her on the desk, knocking aside paperwork.

Their legs are a tangle as they now rest on the floor. "You have the worst balance." Gene mocks, swatting Skunk's broad chest. The man grunts and chuckles, biting at the twisted skull on her ear. "Cry me a fuckin' river." the dealer groans a bit and sits up, the patched blanket drifting from his hips. They always seem to end up on the floor no matter where they ravage each other. She gets out from under the blanket and finds her undergarments, slipping the black silk up her hips. Her hips seem so bare...maybe she should get some hip studs. With her skirt on she loosely hugs her corset to her chest, lacing her boots as Skunk moves to tighten her corset. Gene laughs softly. "Such a gentleman.", she coos as she also eyes the generous orange crystal tossed onto the table. "Thanks for the candy and for kissing my rings." she's not talking about the ones on her fingers.

With a heavy crystal shoved in her cleavage and a sated body, Gene exits the building. Now to get to something more serious. Rebel matters. Although the slums are just too appealing to the junkie to want to leave right away...

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OOC Notes

# Hamartia, 2011-02-08 19:19:40, as written by almostinsane
The junkyward was a dangerous place. Filled with glass, old rusted cyborgs and steam animals, toxic chemicals and fumes, gears and parts, broken tools, and other discarded waste all sprinkled with feces, rat corpses, and other organic matter that eventually decomposed over the course of time, it was like a second home to Peter Parkinson. After all, he didn't have to fear poisoning, cuts, and disease with his right arm clearing the debrise. Machines didn't get sick, only broken, and they could always be fixed. Peter liked that about them. They were cold, unfeeling, and functioned exactly how he wanted it. And yet, Peter also loved the thrill of discovery, of fire and chaos as he crafted new machines. It was a contradiction, he knew, but then, since when did anyone in this city function properly? Everyone was a contradiction.

In the distance, he heard the steam emerge from the clocktowr six times. Six o'clock. That meant Gene was getting her fix. Unconsciously, his right arm clenched, snapping through metal as though it were paper, that precious commodity that was mostly used by the privileged. How long had she been on Stage 2? For awhile, though she was adept at hiding it even from him.What bothered him the most, though he refused to admit it, was her new boy-toy of a dealer. Of course, he was always hostile beneath the surface when it came to... what was the term, boyfriends? No, sex-buddies was a better word. A dragon salt dealer could not be trusted. They had no concern for their clientale. Their goal was to get them hooked until they spent everything they had. The girls would become sluts, the guys left to die from withdrawal in the streets. No, if Skunk stepped out of line, his windpipe would be crushed by Peter's arm. And if Gene's addiction worsened, he'd get her off of it if it was the last thing he did, which is a real possibility.

It was strange how they had become such good friends, Peter mused as he packed some gears and salvageable mechanisms into his pack. He was like a rock, an immovable object. Since the fire that long ago disfigured him, Peter had shaped himself until he was unmovable, uncompromising, but patient and introverted. Gene however.... She was an infernal, so alive, burning everything in her path as she laughed in ecstasy. She didn't fear death for she could not conceive of it or anything else stopping her from getting what she wanted. She was an unstoppable object. But then, what happened when an unstoppable object met an immovable object?

Peter smiled a little when he found a can of fuel, still a quarter full. Probably thrown out by someone in the center of the city, he thought in distaste. Quietly he packed it up. After a few more moment, his pack was full and he lifted it up, leaving the junkyard. These seemed to be good materials.

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OOC Notes

# Hamartia, 2011-02-08 21:37:28, as written by Fammikins
Gene's eyes sweep the area as she stores her dragonsalt block. This portion of the slums is somewhat vacant. All the others are either scorchin', getting laid, or doing another usual task to pass time in the slums. Not much is available here...then again what is? At least her days are never the same. Not in this part of the city, not even in the whole damn city in general. The fiendess slows at a shop without any customers. That certainly isn't a good sign...although it could become a grand investment for the Rebels. A blink of those mossy greens and she breaks into the store to await her unlikely best friend.

Swaggering into the shop she dismisses the owner for now. The main concern is the merchandise after all. It's not of high quality. Which is just fine, they can't afford much at this point anyhow. She'd look like a usual slum dweller, weapons not on her person. Gene has her mouth firmly stitched shut for now as she gives the items dubious looks. She's within the market area now, perusing Peter's shop for anything new. No one else is around including said shop owner. Perhaps he went out to scavenge.

Although once she hears him return she's sitting at the front desk, leaning back in his chair with her legs crossed over the desk's surface. Gene has since long come down from her high, head inclining at the blonde. She smirks, leather string tightening into a slinky heart shape from the impulse. Gene turns abyssal eyes to him. The woman doesn't move to unravel her wired lips and why should she? Instead she wiggles her fingers in silent greeting.

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OOC Notes

# Hamartia, 2011-02-08 22:02:59, as written by almostinsane
(Double post. Sorry.)

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# Hamartia, 2011-02-08 22:03:03, as written by almostinsane
Peter grunted a bit as he neared his shop, raising an eyebrow at the door and the signs of forced entry. He frowned. Beneath the shop, underneath a hidden trapdoor in the basement, was an entrance to a series of tunnels leading to different rebel hideouts, possibly even to the Godfather's, though he wasn't sure. In either case, it was guarded by a steam-powered door of his own invention, just incase. Nevertheless, he was relieved when he saw that it was only Gene, beckoning to him silently. He smiled slightly. Was he really that easy to figure out?

He stepped in and smiled back at his best friend and walked over to her, sitting beside her and wrapped his mechanical arm around her, "Hello Gene. It's nice to see you."

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