This morning you woke up without a single memory to your name, heck, you didn't even have a name. Just a blank canvas, a terrifying abyss painted only with your feelings of the moment and thoughts of the immediate future. Hard to imagine? Take a man, a random passer by, strip from him his memories, those from the day, those from the previous months, years, leave nothing - not even the slightest glimpse of the past. You forget that with memories goes the man's affection or dislike for those in his life, every great love and every seething hate, all of it gone. Not only this but without knowledge of what he does and what he has done you take away the very assurance of what he is. You've removed all the layers, all the lessons learnt and are left only with the core of his being. The primal, uninhibited part of him that is nothing but a ball of instincts and personality. Scary, isn't it?
After waking you look around the room you're in, it's plain, with little furniture but the single bed you're lying on, a chest of drawers and a beeping machine you're connected to via wires. The smell of medicine and bleach is strong in the air, not that you recognise it, though the hairs that rise on the back of your neck and the increased thump of your heart alerts you to something amiss. Within a minute of your waking, three men walk in, two of which look like they belong a few rungs lower on the evolution ladder, the third holding a chart. The latter walks over to you with a pacifying smile on his face, his eyes lacking anything but clinical interest as he studies the machine by your side before asking you to answer a few medical questions. You're then asked to follow him. Worried but curious you comply, following him and the two gorillas down glistening corridors, all of them an exact replica of the one before. The man you've spoken to, a doctor your blank mind whispers, opens a door out onto a bare room filled with nothing but several rows of chairs, all of which face a podium at the front of the room. Behind the podium, upon the wall, hangs a buzzing plasma screen showing a single image. You feel a tug in the back of your mind, a chill that sends shivers across your skin, frightening ripples in an otherwise still pond. You don't know what it is, you just know that it terrifies you.
You take a seat, noticing a few others sprinkled throughout the room, all of them uneasy and sickly looking, the confusion in their eyes a mirror of your own. Eventually the room seems full and you look to the door, waiting for somebody to arrive, the man from before perhaps or another official. A bang makes you turn in the opposite direction, to the podium, and standing behind it is a large man you can't believe you previously missed. He's not tall but thick, muscles bursting from beneath the constrains of a camouflaged jumpsuit, his hair thick but greying and his face lined with premature wrinkles and scars. He looks at each of you in turn, his very presence demanding silence before finally he speaks:
"Welcome to Phoenix Island, you wanna know why it's called that? Because just like a phoenix you will fly from the flames of your old lives and rise up once again, triumphant and ready to do your country proud. You think i'm kiddin'? Tell me, son, what's your name? That's right you have no fucking clue, do ya? No, course you don't. You have all been chosen because you in some way offer your country something special, the radiation gas that has turned the rest of this damn' nation into freaks has somehow turned you into some kind of fuckin' spideyman. Oh don't worry my little lovebirds, you signed up for this yourselves, you just don't remember it. Why?
Well that's simple enough. You know what's a person's greatest weakness, do ya? It's their past. People just can't let go of what they've seen, the horrors they've witnessed - the pain they've experienced. Humanity wraps it's grubby little finger's around memories and just won't let go.We are conditioned by what we see and do, by the people we meet and the emotions they envoke, we - all of us - are a product of our surroundings. And the world at the moment, it ain't so great a place to grow up in, heck, it's hell on earth. Something happened to each and every one of you that made you sign up for this, something so terrible you wanted it erased from you completely, and we did that for you. We wiped your slate clean. What do we get out of it? We get to mould you into the people we want you to be, the soldiers we want you to be. That clear enough for you, sweethearts? Or would you like me to tattoo it straight into your fucking forehead? No? Then let's move on.
Upon entering the facility you will have been given a package, please open that now, in the package you will find a file with your names on - no, not your old names, new ones that have been selected for you at random. Open the file. Written inside is a list of physical data, weight, height, your strengths and your weaknesses. Memorise these - espescially your weaknesses. A man is only as strong as his greatest fault. Moving down the page you will find a list of your, uh, little 'talents', at least those that you informed us of when joining. In training you will test these skills, discover your limits, so on. At the bottom of the page you will find a private message you have written to yourself, it varies from person to person, and yes that is all of it - don't come bitchin' to me if your previous self only left a few sentences. In fact, don't come bitchin' to me at all. I'm not here to hold your hand, you'll either cope or you won't. Those who don't cope however will be released out beyond the Barren Wall, we can't have information about what we do here leaked to those in the city. The Barren Wall? Of course, you won't understand what's going on here, will ya? Well don't you worry your pretty little heads about that, turn to the second page of your file and you will find a summary of recent events.
I will say this. The world is in a state of disaster - in October, in the year 1962 Cuba released nuclear missiles that desolated Central America. The devastation did not stop there however, those who survived the attack became effected by the radiation, in ways previously unknown to science. There was the usual symptoms, vomiting, diarrhea, fevers, cancers, seizures, but it didn't end there. Mutations happened, special powers, extra limbs, inhuman strength, things that would make your goddamn skin crawl. Insanity was also a major problem. Paranoia, schizophrenia, antisocial behaviour, borderline personality disorders, depression - increased aggression levels. All those with mutations are affected mentally in some way, some less, some more. Coastal cities seemed to survive the attack, with low levels of the affected, and for a time all survivors headed there. But then the looting began, people killed in the street by strangers, vicious murders in broad daylight - something had to be done. We built the Barren Wall around what was New York City, made a fortress to protect us from those living out on the Plains. What happened to those infected living in the city? They were culled. Don't you dare look at me like that you sonuvabitch, I bet you were on the front fucking line. Those, likes yourselves, who showed no signs of 'dangerous' psychotic disorders, were given the option to join us here. We took each and one of you out of the dirt, we wiped away your filthy pasts and gave you the chance to be something great.
And what is it you'll be doing? Why you'll be protecting your sister, scraping vermin from the gutters and ensuring that what is left of our sweet country returns to it's former glory. That's right. You'll be fighting the Affected. Smile, sons of bitches, there's no turning back now."
Welcome to 'From Desolation We Rise'! This roleplay is based in the year 1987, twenty-five years after America came under fire of nuclear weapons and what we now would call the Cuban Missile Crisis. However, in this alternative timeline the Cuban Missile Crisis was not averted. Central America was obliterated, leaving behind only what is now referred to as 'The Plains', a humorless reference to a century ago before America's West became inhabited. Back then it was just acres of dry land with little vegetation, and untamed wilderness that was thought to be incapable of supporting civilisation. If only. The Plains now is nothing but a wasteland, miles of desert with the only relief the skeletons of previous societies, whatever could escape the blast. Over the years the radiation from the bomb set to work on the land, killing off all but the most hardy of lifeforms, mutating those that remained. Vicious beasts roam the wilderland now, always hunting, always hungry. What of higher lifeforms? Oh, humans still exist, if you can call them that. Monsters made of men that are driven insane by the radiation, by the constant fight for survival, desperate and vengeful - relentless in their pursuit of flesh. The Affected.
The coastal settlements survived for the most part, their inhabitants escaping the worse of the radiation, and at first this is where everyone flocked. The authorities, the emergency government put in place, tried to police the streets, to stop chaos from flourishing, but of course they failed. The Affected who'd moved to the city, even those who initially seemed passive, would eventually succumb to their mental illnesses. Nobody was safe, women, children, even the elderly didn't escape the violence. Blood literally ran through the streets, body parts littering alleyways, looting and hysteria rife even amongst the 'Normals'. Well you heard what happened next from Officer Vaughn. The 'Barren Wall' was built around New York City, everybody who were affected too strongly by the radiation forced outside of it, and the city itself renamed - Sanctuary.
Why has other countries not intervened? After the attack the Cuba-Soviet alliance only grew stronger, forcing the rest of the world to abandon all contact with what was left of Northern America - to the point that the borders to Canada and Southern America are now heavily guarded with miles of barbed wire. Those left in the USA, are on their own. Remember, the attack on the USA changed everything, no historical events have happened in the same way. Life after is different, darker. Religion amongst the survivors of the ordeal have been forbidden from practising their beliefs, the government anxious that no civil wars erupt, the punishment for breaking the new law is death - an act that has and will be carried out if necessary. Sanctuary, though a haven from what's outside the walls, is still a city fighting for survival. Money is sparse, with gangs ruling the streets and few leaving the house after dark. The Affected that survived the cull prowl the streets at night, many working for the aforementioned mobs, scraping a living through using their powers to steal and kill for money. The government realised that something needed to be done, a squad put together that could truly combat this new threat, restore peace to the city. So Ellis Island was torn down, a high tech training facility built upon the land, a place where a new level of soldiers could be bred. It was renamed Phoenix Island. This is where the beginning of the roleplay is based, where you will return for safety and where you will recieve your orders - from Officer Vaughn, and above him, the mysterious General.
Welcome to New America - let's see how long you'll survive.