SadistPoet
Ippen, Shinde Miru?
"When heaven is agape the angels will fall"
Brief RP Synopsis
After a brief stint of occupation from an outside power, a small band of alchemists must take back the Isles they call home. This occupation has left much of their previous "utopian" life in ruins. They must decide what is best for those remaining on the Isles, while also having to deal with the sudden shift in political power the occupation has caused. All while a strange new threat lays waste to the nearby Mainland, Angels.
What we had
In the aftermath of a war spanning ten-thousand years everything was lost. Both the physical, and the mental. The great towers stretching to the sky now only serve as crumbling tombs filled with lost, inhuman, and unwavering monstrosities. The concepts of law, fairness, and representation of those with no voice are all unfamiliar concepts - tossed aside in favor of Kings and Emperors. In all of ten-thousand years of strife and inhumanity we lost something most important - our homes name. The very name of the world we have known is now unknown. After-all, a name only has value if it is repeated over and over again, and only then it will be committed to memory. Did we want to forget? Did the ten-thousand year war really twist our sense of self? Is our ignorance to the name of our own home a sign that it is no longer our home?
Perhaps we were never worthy, or allowed to have happiness. For most of the world life is a fleeting and fickle thing. On the Mainland a grand, over-sized, overburdened, and fleeting Empire attempts to survive as smaller countries pick away at it as if they were parasites feeding off a dying cow. Many on the outer-edges of the Empire succumb to some sort of cruel fate before turning thirty. Whether it be having ones mind hijacked by metal worms, or dying instantly as metal birds bombard your home with magio-mechanical fire that will only come off by cutting. Fortunately, there is a place that has a reprieve from such a fate, a small conglomeration of islands to the east of the Mainland.
Whether it be sheer disinterest, an act of the Goddess, or something else - this small conglomeration of islands remained untouched by outside forces. Life is simple, happy, and blissfully ignorant on these isles due to the gift of alchemy from the Goddess. All the girls on these isles are born with some affinity for alchemy, making the society matriarchal by nature. Alchemy is capable of sustaining the isles without having to reach out due to it being capable of transmuting one thing into another. Pebbles gathered from the shoreline can be turned into brick and mortar, plants gathered from the central-metal caverns can be turned into medicine, and (Goddess forbid) metals can be fashioned into weapons.
On the Isles, the concept of untimely death is a distant memory. Alchemists are capable of keeping all alive for long, happy, and fulfilling lives. Those lives on the islands are relaxed and simple. Some would call it an ignorant life, and maybe a few others would call it simply just stupid. Signs of previous conflict litter the isles in signs of metal casings, shells of monsters, and the occasional skeleton. Finding these relics of war has turned into a game of sorts. Alchemists reward the young boys, who typically have an interest in these relics, for finding these relics. Even in the hundreds of years nestled within the isles, more and more relics of war keep rearing their mysterious and ugly faces.
The signs of coming doom were obvious if anyone even cared to look. Can you really blame anyone for not wanting to face doom? Face some sort of lost emotion known as pain, a very bane on all of mankind. Iron-clad boats began to skirt by the isles occasionally. Only a few astute Alchemists took the sight of these strange metallic crafts seriously. The only bad thing about living a dream is that you have to wake up. It was like a sweeping tidal wave of faceless men. In only seven hours the entirety of the isles were occupied under a new banner. All the women older than twenty were rounded up and sent off. The Elder Alchemist, Nya, put up some resistance with her unheard of combative alchemy, yet there was too many of the faceless men. Nya fled, with a few others, into the metal caverns beneath the isles.
A generation passed and now the isles old sense of self is a fleeting thing. Strange men in stuffy looking clothes now tell the isles occupants where they can and cannot go, old imagery of the Goddess is all gone, and now they must pray to the sun. Alchemy is restricted to only be used in certain areas and only on certain things. Now girls must work eight hours a day consistently making the same boring blocks of metal in exchange for paper that can be used to buy things. No-longer are they allowed to just make things and trade among themselves. No-longer can they wear what they want, and now must wear the same dreary black clothes. Instead of alchemists freely collaborating among themselves - men now stand charge making sure "quotas" get filled.
The damning, most reprehensible thing, and vile thought is that some welcome this occupation. Now the men of the Isles get a fair shot to make something of themselves, rather than acting as errand boys to alchemists. Only the men of the isles will grow up to hold any position, while the alchemists remain lowly and suppressed.
What we will do
A small group of teenage girls, with all their youthful ignorance, believe they can make a change. Day after day they have been swiping up small amounts of resources to fashion into various alchemical items. They dream of a grand rebellion to take back their isles, yet this is all lost to reality. The faceless men occupying the Isles are much to strong, and have weapons that the girls are only beginning to understand. Instead, they keep their rebellion quiet. Spreading prohibited items throughout, copying the teachings of the Goddess, and keeping old alchemy knowledge alive. This was how they were going to live their lives, a quiet rebellion. That was until the sky opened over the Mainland. Several of the faceless men began to leave the Isles leaving it lightly guarded.
One word became the talk of the remaining Faceless Men: Angels.
In the nights that followed these talks, if one peered out towards the direction of the distant mainland, constant flashing lights could be seen. More and more Faceless Men began to leave the Isles, and then work on the strange items was suspended. Eventually, like a bad dream, all the Faceless Men had left. The only things remaining was a weak shell of their odd form of ruling. Would it be the time to strike? Take back the Isles against the oppressive rulers? What of the Angels? Would life ever be the same?
Only time would tell...
Rules & Expectations (OOC)
1.) This RP will be a female-focused one. Male characters will be considered, but will not be able to possess the ability of alchemy. Additionally, men of the Isles were seen as "useful idiots" due to them not controlling the means of production until recently. It will up to your characters to have their own ideas on equality, but the world follows these rules.
2.) I plan on slowly introducing darker and darker themes as the worlds condition continues to plummet. Many of these will be sensitive subjects such as racism, sexism, genocide, and so on. Be warned...
3.) Alchemy is not a win all power, and is one of the only "magical" forces in the world (as far as we know). It will be used to create items, but it will not be able to overcome natural human frailty. Do not join this RP and expect to play an all-powerful mage-type.
4.) I expect active-participation in the RP. I take RP seriously and work very hard to make extensive universes and characters because I love to give people riveting and interesting experiences. I have no hard posting requirement, and generally go with the average of the group. I will not tolerate one person holding everyone else back.
5.) I am open to people helping co-develop some of this RPs universe once they have a firm understanding on the lore. I have intentionally left much of the universe up to mystery. I will be making a lore-page with a timeline and some information. Most of this information would not be known to our girls, but it will be good to know.
6.) If you have a problem with the RP message me personally. I am open to resolving issues.
7.) My RPs are open minded and free, so feel free to introduce your own unique political questions (So long as we do not break rules).
8.) Try to have fun.
Brief RP Synopsis
After a brief stint of occupation from an outside power, a small band of alchemists must take back the Isles they call home. This occupation has left much of their previous "utopian" life in ruins. They must decide what is best for those remaining on the Isles, while also having to deal with the sudden shift in political power the occupation has caused. All while a strange new threat lays waste to the nearby Mainland, Angels.
What we had
In the aftermath of a war spanning ten-thousand years everything was lost. Both the physical, and the mental. The great towers stretching to the sky now only serve as crumbling tombs filled with lost, inhuman, and unwavering monstrosities. The concepts of law, fairness, and representation of those with no voice are all unfamiliar concepts - tossed aside in favor of Kings and Emperors. In all of ten-thousand years of strife and inhumanity we lost something most important - our homes name. The very name of the world we have known is now unknown. After-all, a name only has value if it is repeated over and over again, and only then it will be committed to memory. Did we want to forget? Did the ten-thousand year war really twist our sense of self? Is our ignorance to the name of our own home a sign that it is no longer our home?
Perhaps we were never worthy, or allowed to have happiness. For most of the world life is a fleeting and fickle thing. On the Mainland a grand, over-sized, overburdened, and fleeting Empire attempts to survive as smaller countries pick away at it as if they were parasites feeding off a dying cow. Many on the outer-edges of the Empire succumb to some sort of cruel fate before turning thirty. Whether it be having ones mind hijacked by metal worms, or dying instantly as metal birds bombard your home with magio-mechanical fire that will only come off by cutting. Fortunately, there is a place that has a reprieve from such a fate, a small conglomeration of islands to the east of the Mainland.
Whether it be sheer disinterest, an act of the Goddess, or something else - this small conglomeration of islands remained untouched by outside forces. Life is simple, happy, and blissfully ignorant on these isles due to the gift of alchemy from the Goddess. All the girls on these isles are born with some affinity for alchemy, making the society matriarchal by nature. Alchemy is capable of sustaining the isles without having to reach out due to it being capable of transmuting one thing into another. Pebbles gathered from the shoreline can be turned into brick and mortar, plants gathered from the central-metal caverns can be turned into medicine, and (Goddess forbid) metals can be fashioned into weapons.
On the Isles, the concept of untimely death is a distant memory. Alchemists are capable of keeping all alive for long, happy, and fulfilling lives. Those lives on the islands are relaxed and simple. Some would call it an ignorant life, and maybe a few others would call it simply just stupid. Signs of previous conflict litter the isles in signs of metal casings, shells of monsters, and the occasional skeleton. Finding these relics of war has turned into a game of sorts. Alchemists reward the young boys, who typically have an interest in these relics, for finding these relics. Even in the hundreds of years nestled within the isles, more and more relics of war keep rearing their mysterious and ugly faces.
The signs of coming doom were obvious if anyone even cared to look. Can you really blame anyone for not wanting to face doom? Face some sort of lost emotion known as pain, a very bane on all of mankind. Iron-clad boats began to skirt by the isles occasionally. Only a few astute Alchemists took the sight of these strange metallic crafts seriously. The only bad thing about living a dream is that you have to wake up. It was like a sweeping tidal wave of faceless men. In only seven hours the entirety of the isles were occupied under a new banner. All the women older than twenty were rounded up and sent off. The Elder Alchemist, Nya, put up some resistance with her unheard of combative alchemy, yet there was too many of the faceless men. Nya fled, with a few others, into the metal caverns beneath the isles.
A generation passed and now the isles old sense of self is a fleeting thing. Strange men in stuffy looking clothes now tell the isles occupants where they can and cannot go, old imagery of the Goddess is all gone, and now they must pray to the sun. Alchemy is restricted to only be used in certain areas and only on certain things. Now girls must work eight hours a day consistently making the same boring blocks of metal in exchange for paper that can be used to buy things. No-longer are they allowed to just make things and trade among themselves. No-longer can they wear what they want, and now must wear the same dreary black clothes. Instead of alchemists freely collaborating among themselves - men now stand charge making sure "quotas" get filled.
The damning, most reprehensible thing, and vile thought is that some welcome this occupation. Now the men of the Isles get a fair shot to make something of themselves, rather than acting as errand boys to alchemists. Only the men of the isles will grow up to hold any position, while the alchemists remain lowly and suppressed.
What we will do
A small group of teenage girls, with all their youthful ignorance, believe they can make a change. Day after day they have been swiping up small amounts of resources to fashion into various alchemical items. They dream of a grand rebellion to take back their isles, yet this is all lost to reality. The faceless men occupying the Isles are much to strong, and have weapons that the girls are only beginning to understand. Instead, they keep their rebellion quiet. Spreading prohibited items throughout, copying the teachings of the Goddess, and keeping old alchemy knowledge alive. This was how they were going to live their lives, a quiet rebellion. That was until the sky opened over the Mainland. Several of the faceless men began to leave the Isles leaving it lightly guarded.
One word became the talk of the remaining Faceless Men: Angels.
In the nights that followed these talks, if one peered out towards the direction of the distant mainland, constant flashing lights could be seen. More and more Faceless Men began to leave the Isles, and then work on the strange items was suspended. Eventually, like a bad dream, all the Faceless Men had left. The only things remaining was a weak shell of their odd form of ruling. Would it be the time to strike? Take back the Isles against the oppressive rulers? What of the Angels? Would life ever be the same?
Only time would tell...
Rules & Expectations (OOC)
1.) This RP will be a female-focused one. Male characters will be considered, but will not be able to possess the ability of alchemy. Additionally, men of the Isles were seen as "useful idiots" due to them not controlling the means of production until recently. It will up to your characters to have their own ideas on equality, but the world follows these rules.
2.) I plan on slowly introducing darker and darker themes as the worlds condition continues to plummet. Many of these will be sensitive subjects such as racism, sexism, genocide, and so on. Be warned...
3.) Alchemy is not a win all power, and is one of the only "magical" forces in the world (as far as we know). It will be used to create items, but it will not be able to overcome natural human frailty. Do not join this RP and expect to play an all-powerful mage-type.
4.) I expect active-participation in the RP. I take RP seriously and work very hard to make extensive universes and characters because I love to give people riveting and interesting experiences. I have no hard posting requirement, and generally go with the average of the group. I will not tolerate one person holding everyone else back.
5.) I am open to people helping co-develop some of this RPs universe once they have a firm understanding on the lore. I have intentionally left much of the universe up to mystery. I will be making a lore-page with a timeline and some information. Most of this information would not be known to our girls, but it will be good to know.
6.) If you have a problem with the RP message me personally. I am open to resolving issues.
7.) My RPs are open minded and free, so feel free to introduce your own unique political questions (So long as we do not break rules).
8.) Try to have fun.
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