Monody
I don't know what I'm doing
Hi, I'm Monody! Recently, I've been craving a specific plot and I would love to try it out! But, before we jump to the plot, I should set the foundations of the rp itself down first.
Nice info to know
-I am in EST, so expect my replies to correspond with that time zone. The number of replies per day is always at least one; more if I'm not busy.
-I'm not much of a fan of post length requirements. I believe that literature needs a certain flow. Sometimes, a long wordy reply hinders the flow. Antithetically, sometimes a short reply ruins the anticipation of a climax. By forcing someone to constrain their replies to a certain length, it is difficult to find a flow. So, I go anywhere from a minimum of a single paragraph to sometimes in the teens. I don't expect any different from my partners. Write what feels right, not because of expectations.
The only exception of this is one liners. Sorry, but I don't see much effort in those.
-I follow RPnation guidelines, so yaknow, no smut; fading to black is fine.
-Please talk to me about the rp. Is it starting to bore you? Let me know! We can do something to make it exciting! Did you want a specific thing to happen? More likely than not, I'd go along with it. Do you want to leave the rp? Tell me, I won't be upset; letting me know is much better than leaving me cold turkey in the middle of an rp.
-Please help add to the plot! I adore nothing more than a plot devised by two people, shifting into something deep and thoughtful. I also hate to drag the plot along all by myself.
-I also like to talk a bit of OOC after important events transpire within the RP, so we can steer the plot into whatever we want.
-This plot and world is a lot more than what it seems. What the inhabitants think is far different than what it truly is. What is written below is not 100% accurate, it's simply what's assumed as common knowledge.
Also, this isn't completely fleshed out.
-Please PM me or post below! I can't PM right now :c
Also I'm trying a new style of plot posting so please bear with me.
~*~
Paradigm: A typical example or pattern of something; a model.
~*~
In the early twenty first century, conflict ran rampant. Nothing was without strife, not politics, not business, not civilian life. It was only a matter of time before another war, a world war, erupted. And so, in the first month of 2070, the world's superpowers wrought what could never be undone. No one remembers what exactly started the war today, nor do we remember who won. All that's important is the stage it set, anyways.
Because of the utter destruction the old world created, nothing of the past was able to remain standing. Not even the foundations of the past societies. For the next few decades, humans did what humans do: survive. It wasn't easy, but civilization was able to rise from ashes. Instead of forming countries, people favored city-states. Conflict wasn't exterminated, but it never reached the levels of destruction that had previously infected the world before.
Rather than focusing on weapons of mass destruction, some preferred to create technologies to improve humanity. Some created better power sources, some created better tools. None were groundbreaking. At least, none until the year of 2134; none until the year of the Progchip.
The Progchip was able to do amazing things. It was able to give amputees full control of prosthetic limbs. It monitored the blood sugar of diabetics with ease and administered insulin whenever needed. It even allowed people to install modifications, now simply called mods, to whatever they wanted. Amber eyes for the bland hazel, hairs of ever-changing ombres, supercomputers in the palm of their hands, literally.
The Progchip brought a new phase for humanity. Unfortunately. Because of the sheer unmistakable value of the Progchip, the few remaining corporations of the world fought for the right to own it. Today, three main companies remain. Venicon, the largest with 44% ownership of all Progchips, Lumineer with 32%, and Astryx with 24%. The entirety of the world's population, 17.3 billion, have a Progchip, all from birth. In other words, all 17.3 billion people are owned by the Big Three. Rather than being ruled by kings, queens, presidents, or emperors, the world is controlled by three businessmen and women.
Because of the Progchip, the cities of the world were able to grow at an unprecedented rate. Cities grew and grew until no land wasn't a city block. Miles and miles high, skyscrapers dominated the sky. Cultures intertwined, yet managed to remain distinct. Eventually, the levels of The City broke into three distinct levels. The highest section would be called Cloudbank. The richest of the rich, the most influential of the influentials would call that place home. Plants grew lazily, painting the section with a verdant that neither of the lower levels would ever see. Most people of today see Cloudbank as the ultimate dream. Luxury in abundance, only a few miles above and within a few billion credit's reach.
The next section of The City was soon known as Meridian. Majority of the world's population today calls it home. Most work desk jobs as accountants, waiters of one of the millions of restaurants, teachers of the next generation, paying off the debts of their Progchips and many mods.
The lowest section would be the infamous Tartarus. The poorest of the poor and the worst of the worst inhabit the section. Criminals live as free as they can down there, being horrible to both each other and the unfortunate poor. Pollution infects the stale air and the leaden water, rendering it a death trap for all unprepared for its inhospitable environment.
--An unnamed high school student's historical report on the rise of the Progchip.
Grade: Sixty-four.
~Plot~
It's the year 2341. Everyone has a Progchip. Everyone has mods. Or so May Sommer thought. Working as an agent of a big time information broker, May had seen a lot. Hell, she'd been to all three levels of The City. Few could claim that. But one day she was given a job. That in itself wasn't odd. The contents, however, were. She had to transfer a man from point A to point B. She assumed that would have been easy. Until she realized he didn't have a Progchip. To make matters worse, he seemed to have the Big Three after him.
Nice info to know
-I am in EST, so expect my replies to correspond with that time zone. The number of replies per day is always at least one; more if I'm not busy.
-I'm not much of a fan of post length requirements. I believe that literature needs a certain flow. Sometimes, a long wordy reply hinders the flow. Antithetically, sometimes a short reply ruins the anticipation of a climax. By forcing someone to constrain their replies to a certain length, it is difficult to find a flow. So, I go anywhere from a minimum of a single paragraph to sometimes in the teens. I don't expect any different from my partners. Write what feels right, not because of expectations.
The only exception of this is one liners. Sorry, but I don't see much effort in those.
-I follow RPnation guidelines, so yaknow, no smut; fading to black is fine.
-Please talk to me about the rp. Is it starting to bore you? Let me know! We can do something to make it exciting! Did you want a specific thing to happen? More likely than not, I'd go along with it. Do you want to leave the rp? Tell me, I won't be upset; letting me know is much better than leaving me cold turkey in the middle of an rp.
-Please help add to the plot! I adore nothing more than a plot devised by two people, shifting into something deep and thoughtful. I also hate to drag the plot along all by myself.
-I also like to talk a bit of OOC after important events transpire within the RP, so we can steer the plot into whatever we want.
-This plot and world is a lot more than what it seems. What the inhabitants think is far different than what it truly is. What is written below is not 100% accurate, it's simply what's assumed as common knowledge.
Also, this isn't completely fleshed out.
-Please PM me or post below! I can't PM right now :c
Also I'm trying a new style of plot posting so please bear with me.
~*~
Paradigm: A typical example or pattern of something; a model.
~*~
In the early twenty first century, conflict ran rampant. Nothing was without strife, not politics, not business, not civilian life. It was only a matter of time before another war, a world war, erupted. And so, in the first month of 2070, the world's superpowers wrought what could never be undone. No one remembers what exactly started the war today, nor do we remember who won. All that's important is the stage it set, anyways.
Because of the utter destruction the old world created, nothing of the past was able to remain standing. Not even the foundations of the past societies. For the next few decades, humans did what humans do: survive. It wasn't easy, but civilization was able to rise from ashes. Instead of forming countries, people favored city-states. Conflict wasn't exterminated, but it never reached the levels of destruction that had previously infected the world before.
Rather than focusing on weapons of mass destruction, some preferred to create technologies to improve humanity. Some created better power sources, some created better tools. None were groundbreaking. At least, none until the year of 2134; none until the year of the Progchip.
The Progchip was able to do amazing things. It was able to give amputees full control of prosthetic limbs. It monitored the blood sugar of diabetics with ease and administered insulin whenever needed. It even allowed people to install modifications, now simply called mods, to whatever they wanted. Amber eyes for the bland hazel, hairs of ever-changing ombres, supercomputers in the palm of their hands, literally.
The Progchip brought a new phase for humanity. Unfortunately. Because of the sheer unmistakable value of the Progchip, the few remaining corporations of the world fought for the right to own it. Today, three main companies remain. Venicon, the largest with 44% ownership of all Progchips, Lumineer with 32%, and Astryx with 24%. The entirety of the world's population, 17.3 billion, have a Progchip, all from birth. In other words, all 17.3 billion people are owned by the Big Three. Rather than being ruled by kings, queens, presidents, or emperors, the world is controlled by three businessmen and women.
Because of the Progchip, the cities of the world were able to grow at an unprecedented rate. Cities grew and grew until no land wasn't a city block. Miles and miles high, skyscrapers dominated the sky. Cultures intertwined, yet managed to remain distinct. Eventually, the levels of The City broke into three distinct levels. The highest section would be called Cloudbank. The richest of the rich, the most influential of the influentials would call that place home. Plants grew lazily, painting the section with a verdant that neither of the lower levels would ever see. Most people of today see Cloudbank as the ultimate dream. Luxury in abundance, only a few miles above and within a few billion credit's reach.
The next section of The City was soon known as Meridian. Majority of the world's population today calls it home. Most work desk jobs as accountants, waiters of one of the millions of restaurants, teachers of the next generation, paying off the debts of their Progchips and many mods.
The lowest section would be the infamous Tartarus. The poorest of the poor and the worst of the worst inhabit the section. Criminals live as free as they can down there, being horrible to both each other and the unfortunate poor. Pollution infects the stale air and the leaden water, rendering it a death trap for all unprepared for its inhospitable environment.
--An unnamed high school student's historical report on the rise of the Progchip.
Grade: Sixty-four.
~Plot~
It's the year 2341. Everyone has a Progchip. Everyone has mods. Or so May Sommer thought. Working as an agent of a big time information broker, May had seen a lot. Hell, she'd been to all three levels of The City. Few could claim that. But one day she was given a job. That in itself wasn't odd. The contents, however, were. She had to transfer a man from point A to point B. She assumed that would have been easy. Until she realized he didn't have a Progchip. To make matters worse, he seemed to have the Big Three after him.
