This Looking For RP topic is marked as closed, meaning it is no longer seeking new players.
One Nation, Under Watch...
Background
Stadt was the capital of our District, surrounded on either side by suburbs called Arden and Ebene. Of course, those were only the old names—used generations ago, when my grandparents’ grandparents walked the same streets I did now.
Now, long strings of code, identification numbers similar to barcodes, identified everything. The same procedure was used for people; Sure, we had names that our parents gave us, what we were called by others, but our ID’s were only a photograph, and a string of numbers. When you passed away, your number was refreshed in the system, could be reused, so the combinations never ran out.
Stadt was an enormous metropolis that was described as a paradise—like a luxury resort for its residents, it was filled with theatres, fine restaurants, lavish amenities to accommodate every necessity or desire imaginable. The city was inhabited by the upper class—the investors, the aristocrats, the big business owners, they were the people in power. Indeed, each District had an elected Minister, a representative in the national government, but even elections were controlled by the wealthy—votes were purchased, and while any citizen over 18 could vote, it was costly. A middle-class voter could save money for a year to purchase a single ballot, while the upper class could easily get dozens of them. No limit was placed on how many times an individual could vote. And so, the system continued in an endless cycle, each Minister supporting policies that continued things just as they were, all smiles and faux-friendliness, and all was well in this Utopia they had built for themselves.
Not a dozen miles away was Ebene. It surrounded the perimeter of Stadt in a half-circle border, spread along in a curving strip of factories, warehouses, offices. The “working” class, it was called, resided in sensible homes with white picket fences, with short commutes to daily jobs. Although they were seldom recognized for it, Ebene was what kept Stadt alive—they were the engineers, the managers, the maintenance. They designed the skyscrapers in the city, they managed the imports and exports from other districts, they kept the flow going. Many of them worked hard, in hopes of someday acquiring enough money to move their family into the city, to live among the class that they served, to climb the ladder. However, such a jump was nearly impossible—wages, in comparison with daily living expenses, disabled the ability to save much money for the average citizen. So they were stuck, hamsters on wheels, pretending the monotony didn’t weigh a thousand pounds on their shoulders, crushing their hearts, their dreams and their spirit. It was a little world of gray, the dull lives of dull people, baggy-eyed with forced smiles, unaware that they were prisoners, captives, oblivious to any alternate option.
And, finally, surrounding Stadt on the other side, the remaining section of the bordering circle formed by itself and Ebene, was Arden. Crumbling brick buildings and litter filled the limits of the area, bordered on its other side by a mucky river, cutting it off from the rest of the outside world, incarcerating its population. During the day, it was quiet—those who had jobs had to make the commute to the factories and warehouses of Ebene, usually doing hard labor for low pay, and a few traveled into the city, working as custodians or cashiers in some of the businesses, spending each day serving the upper class, simply to put bread on the table for their families.
The population was generally young, the majority aged between 16 and 25, as many died off when waves of sickness came through—things as simple as the flu killing off hundreds, without the proper funds to obtain medical care. Occasionally, those with some knowledge of healthcare could administer herbal remedies—but the materials were difficult to acquire. Cut off from any sort of natural source for plants and herbs, they were usually stolen from some market closer to the city—not an easy task, with law enforcement patrolling every street, especially nearer to Arden, where the crime rate was sky-high.
The business side of Arden was primitive compared to the technologies of Stadt—butcher’s shops, taverns, and pawnshops were common within the little communities, and once every two weeks, farmers—considered middle class—from the fields and little towns that surrounded Stadt, separated it from the other cities of the District, would cross the river and set up markets, selling produce, fresh meat, and sometimes even fishermen and bakers would join them, adding seafood and pastries to the mix. Even so, many of Arden residents couldn’t afford anything at the markets.
Gang activity was common in the urban area of Arden, where the shops and businesses were located. There was an atmosphere of hostility, each individual keeping to himself, with frequent muggings, vandalizing, defacing and destruction of anything and everything. It wasn’t unusual to see homeless adolescents being helplessly harassed, sometimes beaten, by the police force—Stadt citizens bitter over being forced to occupy the area of what they considered to be pariahs.
Now, long strings of code, identification numbers similar to barcodes, identified everything. The same procedure was used for people; Sure, we had names that our parents gave us, what we were called by others, but our ID’s were only a photograph, and a string of numbers. When you passed away, your number was refreshed in the system, could be reused, so the combinations never ran out.
Stadt was an enormous metropolis that was described as a paradise—like a luxury resort for its residents, it was filled with theatres, fine restaurants, lavish amenities to accommodate every necessity or desire imaginable. The city was inhabited by the upper class—the investors, the aristocrats, the big business owners, they were the people in power. Indeed, each District had an elected Minister, a representative in the national government, but even elections were controlled by the wealthy—votes were purchased, and while any citizen over 18 could vote, it was costly. A middle-class voter could save money for a year to purchase a single ballot, while the upper class could easily get dozens of them. No limit was placed on how many times an individual could vote. And so, the system continued in an endless cycle, each Minister supporting policies that continued things just as they were, all smiles and faux-friendliness, and all was well in this Utopia they had built for themselves.
Not a dozen miles away was Ebene. It surrounded the perimeter of Stadt in a half-circle border, spread along in a curving strip of factories, warehouses, offices. The “working” class, it was called, resided in sensible homes with white picket fences, with short commutes to daily jobs. Although they were seldom recognized for it, Ebene was what kept Stadt alive—they were the engineers, the managers, the maintenance. They designed the skyscrapers in the city, they managed the imports and exports from other districts, they kept the flow going. Many of them worked hard, in hopes of someday acquiring enough money to move their family into the city, to live among the class that they served, to climb the ladder. However, such a jump was nearly impossible—wages, in comparison with daily living expenses, disabled the ability to save much money for the average citizen. So they were stuck, hamsters on wheels, pretending the monotony didn’t weigh a thousand pounds on their shoulders, crushing their hearts, their dreams and their spirit. It was a little world of gray, the dull lives of dull people, baggy-eyed with forced smiles, unaware that they were prisoners, captives, oblivious to any alternate option.
And, finally, surrounding Stadt on the other side, the remaining section of the bordering circle formed by itself and Ebene, was Arden. Crumbling brick buildings and litter filled the limits of the area, bordered on its other side by a mucky river, cutting it off from the rest of the outside world, incarcerating its population. During the day, it was quiet—those who had jobs had to make the commute to the factories and warehouses of Ebene, usually doing hard labor for low pay, and a few traveled into the city, working as custodians or cashiers in some of the businesses, spending each day serving the upper class, simply to put bread on the table for their families.
The population was generally young, the majority aged between 16 and 25, as many died off when waves of sickness came through—things as simple as the flu killing off hundreds, without the proper funds to obtain medical care. Occasionally, those with some knowledge of healthcare could administer herbal remedies—but the materials were difficult to acquire. Cut off from any sort of natural source for plants and herbs, they were usually stolen from some market closer to the city—not an easy task, with law enforcement patrolling every street, especially nearer to Arden, where the crime rate was sky-high.
The business side of Arden was primitive compared to the technologies of Stadt—butcher’s shops, taverns, and pawnshops were common within the little communities, and once every two weeks, farmers—considered middle class—from the fields and little towns that surrounded Stadt, separated it from the other cities of the District, would cross the river and set up markets, selling produce, fresh meat, and sometimes even fishermen and bakers would join them, adding seafood and pastries to the mix. Even so, many of Arden residents couldn’t afford anything at the markets.
Gang activity was common in the urban area of Arden, where the shops and businesses were located. There was an atmosphere of hostility, each individual keeping to himself, with frequent muggings, vandalizing, defacing and destruction of anything and everything. It wasn’t unusual to see homeless adolescents being helplessly harassed, sometimes beaten, by the police force—Stadt citizens bitter over being forced to occupy the area of what they considered to be pariahs.
Revolution
That was the way things worked, every day, for decades and decades. No resistance, no questioning, simply an endless cycle of the rich getting richer, the poor, poorer, your value as a human being decided by your wealth, your wealth decided by where and to whom you were born. Your entire life was decided by the government—where you could live, what you could afford, what you could wear or eat, what entertainment you had access to. Televisions were rarely seen in Arden—it was believed that if the people in unfortunate circumstance knew what was going on in the world, they would try to rise up and make a change. The press was closely monitored—any publication speaking out against the system was eliminated, discontinued, and the author of the work was arrested and imprisoned for treason—some had even been killed. At one time, long ago, Arden had libraries, but when most of the existing books could be interpreted in a way that promoted standing out against the norm, the buildings were closed down, the books inside—and therefore centuries of history—burned. Anyone who looked at a police officer wrong could be tazed or beaten on the spot.
And the kicker was that people were okay with it. Hell, I was okay with it. But that was before I knew—I was sheltered, knowledge of Arden and Ebene censored from my education. The only times you ever heard the names of these forbidden, shamed places, was on the news, when reports were made on crimes committed against the government. I realize now that it was a method of scaring us away from any thought of opposing the system—they were trying to intimidate us. And it worked. Students in school that had spoken out against it had been expelled, disowned, even, if their minds couldn’t be corrected.
But I am not the only one who recognizes the wrongdoings of this oligarchy, the mistreatment of its people. There are many of us who know, now, and we are growing every day. And we educate ourselves, among the pages of books, salvaged before the Burning Times, hidden away from the eye of the law. It is among these pages, and from one another, that we’re able to study the times before the excessive control—Documents were created by our own governments, that guaranteed rights, independence, liberties, to everyone, rich and poor. Over time, it seems, a slow transition was made, during which the reigns were tightened, freedoms taken from the common man, rights becoming a matter of privilege, guaranteed by wealth. The government was bought out, so to speak—policies created based on bribery from the upper class, something once considered a crime, and now an every day occurrence.
In addition to the stories of how the world came to be this way, there was documentation of former revolutionaries—The Weathermen, who aspired to overthrow the government for their beliefs of Democracy; the Civil Rights movement, that ended the segregation of individuals who were discriminated for the color than happened to tint their skin, something out of their control, much like the economic standing we were born into today, forced into a perpetual caste, and having no option other than to simply survive.
It was with this knowledge gained, this fire in our hearts, that we decided our voices would be heard. And we would make sure of it.
That was the way things worked, every day, for decades and decades. No resistance, no questioning, simply an endless cycle of the rich getting richer, the poor, poorer, your value as a human being decided by your wealth, your wealth decided by where and to whom you were born. Your entire life was decided by the government—where you could live, what you could afford, what you could wear or eat, what entertainment you had access to. Televisions were rarely seen in Arden—it was believed that if the people in unfortunate circumstance knew what was going on in the world, they would try to rise up and make a change. The press was closely monitored—any publication speaking out against the system was eliminated, discontinued, and the author of the work was arrested and imprisoned for treason—some had even been killed. At one time, long ago, Arden had libraries, but when most of the existing books could be interpreted in a way that promoted standing out against the norm, the buildings were closed down, the books inside—and therefore centuries of history—burned. Anyone who looked at a police officer wrong could be tazed or beaten on the spot.
And the kicker was that people were okay with it. Hell, I was okay with it. But that was before I knew—I was sheltered, knowledge of Arden and Ebene censored from my education. The only times you ever heard the names of these forbidden, shamed places, was on the news, when reports were made on crimes committed against the government. I realize now that it was a method of scaring us away from any thought of opposing the system—they were trying to intimidate us. And it worked. Students in school that had spoken out against it had been expelled, disowned, even, if their minds couldn’t be corrected.
But I am not the only one who recognizes the wrongdoings of this oligarchy, the mistreatment of its people. There are many of us who know, now, and we are growing every day. And we educate ourselves, among the pages of books, salvaged before the Burning Times, hidden away from the eye of the law. It is among these pages, and from one another, that we’re able to study the times before the excessive control—Documents were created by our own governments, that guaranteed rights, independence, liberties, to everyone, rich and poor. Over time, it seems, a slow transition was made, during which the reigns were tightened, freedoms taken from the common man, rights becoming a matter of privilege, guaranteed by wealth. The government was bought out, so to speak—policies created based on bribery from the upper class, something once considered a crime, and now an every day occurrence.
In addition to the stories of how the world came to be this way, there was documentation of former revolutionaries—The Weathermen, who aspired to overthrow the government for their beliefs of Democracy; the Civil Rights movement, that ended the segregation of individuals who were discriminated for the color than happened to tint their skin, something out of their control, much like the economic standing we were born into today, forced into a perpetual caste, and having no option other than to simply survive.
It was with this knowledge gained, this fire in our hearts, that we decided our voices would be heard. And we would make sure of it.
Nitpicky Things
-This RP can be 1x1 or a group RP, dependent on what interest is shown.
-This is ONLY AN INTEREST CHECK, not an OOC thread. Once enough people show interest, I will create an OOC thread where we will keep OOC discussion related to the roleplay once it has been initiated. This thread is for voicing interest, as well as questions/suggestions.
-Please Note: I don't screw around when it comes to RPing; I have high expectations. If you show interest in my RP, I would like to see samples of writing/RP you have done in the past. I don't have time to deal with letting everyone in, only to eliminate those with repeated illegible grammar and/or random disappearances, god mod-ing, etc. etc. two weeks into the roleplay.
-HOWEVER, this plot is completely open to suggestions, constructive criticisms, and twists and turns. I encourage creative interpretations and if there is something you don't like about it, feel free to ask me to change it! Not all details are set in stone.
-This RP needs good guys and bad guys. Don't be afraid to play a villain-- we won't kill you off unless we are given express permission.
-Mature themes (18+) may or may not be included, including sexual indications/innuendos, violence, drugs and other substances, etc.
-If you wish to do research / find reading material that has inspired this plot (not required, of course, but some people like getting a better feel for the RP's intended course of action) I suggest researching the Weather Underground Organization, and/or reading the short webcomic by Yuumei (from which I borrowed the pictures to illustrate the ideas of this RP) called "Fisheye Placebo."
-This RP can be 1x1 or a group RP, dependent on what interest is shown.
-This is ONLY AN INTEREST CHECK, not an OOC thread. Once enough people show interest, I will create an OOC thread where we will keep OOC discussion related to the roleplay once it has been initiated. This thread is for voicing interest, as well as questions/suggestions.
-Please Note: I don't screw around when it comes to RPing; I have high expectations. If you show interest in my RP, I would like to see samples of writing/RP you have done in the past. I don't have time to deal with letting everyone in, only to eliminate those with repeated illegible grammar and/or random disappearances, god mod-ing, etc. etc. two weeks into the roleplay.
-HOWEVER, this plot is completely open to suggestions, constructive criticisms, and twists and turns. I encourage creative interpretations and if there is something you don't like about it, feel free to ask me to change it! Not all details are set in stone.
-This RP needs good guys and bad guys. Don't be afraid to play a villain-- we won't kill you off unless we are given express permission.
-Mature themes (18+) may or may not be included, including sexual indications/innuendos, violence, drugs and other substances, etc.
-If you wish to do research / find reading material that has inspired this plot (not required, of course, but some people like getting a better feel for the RP's intended course of action) I suggest researching the Weather Underground Organization, and/or reading the short webcomic by Yuumei (from which I borrowed the pictures to illustrate the ideas of this RP) called "Fisheye Placebo."
Hello 
I would be interested in joining this.
From the characters I have here I think Geraud would fit in the setting. His profile isn't finished (I'm still writing some parts and doing sketches) but you can get an idea of what he's like from the short description on his first page. Also, I wouldn't mind using an edited version of him if that is necessary.
I would be interested in joining this.From the characters I have here I think Geraud would fit in the setting. His profile isn't finished (I'm still writing some parts and doing sketches) but you can get an idea of what he's like from the short description on his first page. Also, I wouldn't mind using an edited version of him if that is necessary.
I took a peek, and I think he'll fit in perfectly do you have any examples/links of previous RPs and/or writing so I can get a feel for how you RP?
do you have any examples/links of previous RPs and/or writing so I can get a feel for how you RP?
Recently i've mostly been RPing over PMs so i can't really give you a link. I'll just send you a few posts instead.
I'm definitely interested! I'm on mobile right now so it may take me a bit to get you some examples of my role playing style. I do tend to try for multiple paragraphs, if I can. I won't have access to a computer until next Thursday evening so I will see what I can do as far as examples are concerned. C:
I can edit my character to better fit the setting as well. I have a few more that may fit too but I would rather link those when I'm not stuck using a laggy old iPod for Internet haha.
I can edit my character to better fit the setting as well. I have a few more that may fit too but I would rather link those when I'm not stuck using a laggy old iPod for Internet haha.
Color me interested. I have several characters that I'd like to use for this:
-standard protagonist fare: Aervin Andres, normally subliminally infused with self-reflexivity in expecting things to happen like they do in stories, would probably be a scatterbrained hacker in this universe.
-antagonist: I don't have a profile or name for this guy, but he's a high class Inquisitor type who actively hunts down rebels and suppresses them.
-standard protagonist fare: Aervin Andres, normally subliminally infused with self-reflexivity in expecting things to happen like they do in stories, would probably be a scatterbrained hacker in this universe.
-antagonist: I don't have a profile or name for this guy, but he's a high class Inquisitor type who actively hunts down rebels and suppresses them.
Excellent I was hoping we could get a somewhat larger group but i definitely think we can make it work. As for the examples of your writing, don't worry about it-- that usually comes into play when a lot of people want to join an RP and there's not really enough room for everyone without it becoming cluttered.
If you guys are still in, I can make an OOC and we can discuss some things and then get started
I was hoping we could get a somewhat larger group but i definitely think we can make it work. As for the examples of your writing, don't worry about it-- that usually comes into play when a lot of people want to join an RP and there's not really enough room for everyone without it becoming cluttered.If you guys are still in, I can make an OOC and we can discuss some things and then get started
This RP sounds like a lot of fun! I would be interested as well!
Excellent I'll have an OOC up tonight!
I'll have an OOC up tonight!
I'm interested 
"Introduce a little anarchy, upset the established order, and everything becomes chaos, I’m an agent of chaos , and you know the thing about chaos? It’s fair." - The Joker
"Introduce a little anarchy, upset the established order, and everything becomes chaos, I’m an agent of chaos , and you know the thing about chaos? It’s fair." - The Joker
This sounds like the perfect setting for me. 
I'm a thief that knows freerunning, so I haven't been caught yet. I can see myself hailing from Arden.
I'm a thief that knows freerunning, so I haven't been caught yet. I can see myself hailing from Arden.
Aaaaaaaand here was the inquisitor-type I was going to make.
Also, I think this is a pretty big group as is. Any more and we'd have to start a separate RPR group to keep track of everything.
Also, I think this is a pretty big group as is. Any more and we'd have to start a separate RPR group to keep track of everything.
Alright friends! Back from trip and able to get in on this full-swing.
Alright, this is officially closed, we have everyone we need I'm sorry I've taken so long to post an OOC! I've been out of town, but I will be returning on Monday and I'll be able to get all caught up. Thanks for the patience, all. We'll get this up and running soon
I'm sorry I've taken so long to post an OOC! I've been out of town, but I will be returning on Monday and I'll be able to get all caught up. Thanks for the patience, all. We'll get this up and running soon
Just to be clear, I'm in, right?
Yes you are
Okay, cool. 
Alright, I have the OOC mostly done and it will be up tonight sorry it's taken so long, This week has been crazy, but from this point forward I'll be able to be on much more actively. Thanks so much for your patience everyone-- I'll post the link this evening and we can get this up and running
sorry it's taken so long, This week has been crazy, but from this point forward I'll be able to be on much more actively. Thanks so much for your patience everyone-- I'll post the link this evening and we can get this up and running
Whoop whoop!!
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