Futuristic Another Normal Day- Reborn: A Cyberpunk-Dystopian-Superhero-RP

[Gears]

Posting IC soon

 

[Gears]

Still bump

 

[Gears]

Bump

 

[Gears]

Bump pls

 

[Gears]

Bump

 

[Gears]

Bump

 

[Gears]

Long Period of Disapeerence Bumpp

 

[Bush]

I'm interested

 

[Gears]

Cool, make a CS and I will PM any mistakes you may make

 

[Bush]

I'm gonna wait and see if anyone else is gonna join

 

[Gears]

Spoiler: The Boy

Something wasn't right- The boy didn't possess any sort of psychic or similar enhancement, but he knew something was terribly wrong- but everything seemed normal. A few of the group where loading supplies from the battered truck he and the other mech's had restored for their operations, one of them lingered on a package- The Boy could feel something in there, the churning of machinery, the clicks of gears- and a steady ticking. She was arguing with him again, during the last meeting he had voted against the recent motion, something the others were rapidly growing more and more enthusiastic about. One more and they would have passed it and abandoned their goal once and for all- He couldn't do it, even as their causalities steadily grew- as people began to hate them, he wished he could vote for this simple act- they didn't want them, why should they help this damned city? But still some relied on them, with the worsening corruption of both the Registered Heroes, and the Agency- but many still relied on them, and the boy felt like he owed it to those who had died for their oath, sworn three years ago today. Even as she argued with him he stayed firm, though he couldn't shake off the feeling of unease, then he felt it, the heat- the fire, the death. The boy tacked her to the ground, crying for others to get down as the box exploded, incinerating everyone nearby. His ears rung as the Boy stood up, looking to the shrapnel that now stuck from the wall where they had stood moments before. His heart beat in his chest as he heard the screams of anguish and pain- before he realized that steady thrum and beat was not his heart, but the blades of a Agency Helo. He barely had time to cry out a warning before the monsters burst through the windows, canisters releasing gas following the masked soldiers as they fired lead into the crowd of survivors. God, they had found them.

 

[Gears]

I will post a few in universe short stories every few days- once I run out of already written stories it will be less often

 

[Gears]

Spoiler: Black Spire

The Doctor walked down the halls of The Enhanced Rehabilitation Center, or Black Spire as they called it. The building was located in one of the largest and deepest caverns underneath Genesis; The building was built to mimic the government's seat, The Spire. Where there were beautiful gardens in one, there were dreary cells, containing the most dangerous individuals in the city. The building's structure was composed of the second floor, covering half of the height of the building. Cells levitate in different intervals, depending on the abilities and designated threat level. Automated Defense Drones flew between the platforms, each containing a self-propelled cubical cell, with furniture accompanying the prisoner depending on their behavior and their progress toward "Rehabilitation", along with any defenses set up to combat their abilities, with a single cable connecting each cell to the ground, the mess of cables connecting to a console, several Elite Guards transferred from INFERNO defending the control center, the operator able to call a cell down, or execute any unruly prisoners.

Doctor Blight walked across the seventh Catwalk, connecting the twelve main sections of the Containment Center. There was no point in creating an intricate system of retractable catwalks to move between each Cell, not when the Thirteenth Layer had only two inhabitants left. Eolan could see the cell of Prisoner 898 above him, The Thirteenth Layer, or “Long Term” as most called it, even though everyone here had life sentences; unless they were rehabilitated, he wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Blight gestured to one of the drones that followed him, looking to the cell before him, the windows hastily cemented shut by an elemental. The drone took a second to scan the doctor, at least a visible and more effective scan- the drones and the building itself scanned everyone inside every ten minutes. After completing the five-second scan, the Drone accepted his request and unlocked the door. The room had recently been cleaned and rearranged- the prisoner had reacted poorly to his previous test. Two maintenance droids repaired a wall that had begun to erode from immense pressure. The prisoner herself was still paralyzed on the ground from the defense protocol triggered by her outburst

Banshee had only killed three people- usually a crime that would have earned her place in one of the minor facilities, but for whatever reason, she had been put in here. A mask covered the lower half of her face, and her eyes were as dull as always. Still, once she saw The Doctor’s face her face twisted into a mask of hatred, the dullness in her eyes replaced with wraith- she wanted to kill Blight, and had tried before- but it wasn’t his fault he had let the Elemental escape- the plan was to keep him contained to observe his behavior after the manufactured break out.

As always, Banshee never spoke- all she could do was glare at The Doctor. He kicked her side, smirking as he got back up, pulling a syringe from his jacket as the drones lifted her, sticking the long needle into her neck before pushing the plunger down, allowing the modified adrenaline to spread through her body. She began to struggle in the steel grip of the drones as the doctor accepted a pair of headphones from the drones. Once the headphones were affixed on each of their heads, A childish tune began to play. The low-quality audio usually put him on edge as he heard the chimes and rhythm of the music box, cheaply made, likely based on old-world design. Banshee tried to tear away from the mechanized wardens, not to kill Eolan, but to escape that song. Eolan turned on a device hooked to his arm, gritting his teeth as he inserted a needle into his skull, the metal spike finding the installed port in his brain as he began to hear the emotions of the subject- anger, and pure fear. The fear grew as Banshee thrashed about, trying to shake the wardens off, but the drone's hold was too firm. A smile grew on his face as he saw tears well up in her eyes, after a minute he felt something delicious- Defeat. The drones released Banshee after Blight gestured to them, leaving her as she shied away from her captor, ripping her headphones off and throwing them at the Doctor. The Doctor grinned as a drone fired a nearly deadly electric dart into her.

She convulsed on the ground, as he took off the headphones and shut the door, before turning to the panel on the cell wall. Eolan couldn't help but grin as he administered the punishment program, firing harmful electrical shocks from every surface of the cell, before pulling the disk from the device connected to the headphones- an archaic device, but the only way one could play the recording with this effect on the subject. The Doctor wiped off the surface of the disk before interesting it into the cell’s PA system- before he heard the first noise he had ever heard Banshee make during his visit, screams of pain and anguish- neither muffled by the wall or her mask, her abilities allowing her screams to reach him and the Second Floor, terrifying the prisoners and keeping them in line. The guards had trained to resist the mental effects of that scream, forced to listen to recordings for hours until they were immune, making this ritual valuable. Banshee’s cry kept the prisoners in line, manipulating them while showing what resistance would lead to—making the torture worth it in The Doctor’s eyes. The Doctor switched his headphones to Old World Lyrical music as he stepped on the lift, ready to relax and read a book in his office. Perhaps he would have some normal prisoners transferred for tests to test her reaction. Last time they had been torn apart by the pure screams of sonic power- but there were plenty for his experiments and enjoyment.

 

[Gears]

Bumpp

 

[Gears]

bump

 

[phibglib]

Interested

 

[Gears]

thank you, any quesions?

 

[phibglib]

thank you, any quesions?

Not at the moment.

 

[phibglib]

thank you, any quesions?

How many points do we start with?

 

[phibglib]

thank you, any quesions?

Oh, and how many characters can we play?

 

[Gears]

Unlimited, since I pan for there to be two sperate teams: Rogues Gallery of Anti-heroes and vigilantes, and The Heroes

 

[Gears]

How many points do we start with?

I believe 150, but I will be updating the system- and the point buy is malleable, mostly to stop overpowered characters like my last run

 

[phibglib]

On second thought, I think this setting may be a little too complex for me. And I don't really do well with combat-based things.

 

[Gears]

That's fine

 

[Gears]

Though my plan is for it to be mostly investigation and seeking out the secrets of the world, though combat will occur every once in a while, for example one group will be undercover with the heroes trying to uncover a secret project and investigate the plot of a villain- with occasional altercations.