Avatar of Force and Fury

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Recent Statuses

2 yrs ago
Current Shilling a good medieval fantasy: roleplayerguild.com/topics/…
3 yrs ago
Don't mind me. Just shilling a thread: roleplayerguild.com/topics/…
3 yrs ago
So worried right now. My brother just got admitted to the hospital after swallowing six toy horses. Doctors say he's in stable condtion.
8 likes
3 yrs ago
Nice to meet you, Bored. I'm interested!
7 likes
3 yrs ago
Ugh. Someone literally stole the wheels off of my car. Gonna have to work tirelessly for justice.
4 likes

Bio

Oh gee! An age and a gender and interests and things. Yeah, I have those. Ain't no way I'm about to trigger an existential crisis by typing them all out, though. You can find out what a nerd I am on discord, okay?

Stay awesome, people.

Most Recent Posts

First, for some Theme music!




The Great Air Race Begins!


The year is nineteen hundred ten. King Edward VII sits upon the throne of England (but for how much longer?) and all is well within the British Empire. Nevermind those ambitious Germans, meddlesome French, reckless Yankees, and chaotic Italians. Yes, indeed. Everything is jolly good (so long as you're a white British fellow from a reasonably well-to-do family, that is)!

There is one small problem, however: those tiresome new technologies so beloved of the Americans and continentals. Britannia may rule the waves, but she does not rule the skies - at least not yet. To this patriotic end (and also to increase the circulation of his newspaper and simply because he has money to burn), the English newspaper baron Lord Worthington has decided to bankroll a great air race from London to Paris and then back again to London. As encouragement, he has offered up the princely sum of £15,000 to go to the victor, who he fully expects to be a loyal subject of the crown.

Already a dazzling assortment of aviators, mechanics, and dreamers has started to pour into the new purpose-built aerodrome taking shape in the northern suburbs of London. Whether by invitation, word of mouth, or by having read about the event in local newspapers, they have made their way to this mecca of nascent aviation with one goal in mind: win. Some are motivated by a lust for money. Some crave fame. Others have been swept up in a wave of patriotic fervour, and still others are here to prove a point, whether it be political, moral, or personal. One thing is for certain: the great air race is set to be a spectacle like nothing that has ever been witnessed before, and naturally, the presses and the public are all agog about those magnificent men in their flying machines.





Entry Guidelines for the Interested Aviator


So, this is a lighthearted competitive RPG set during the peculiar Indian Summer of the Late Edwardian Period, four years before the First World War broke out and when flying was still new, exciting, and oh-so-glamourous. It's based on the 1965 movie of the same name and borrows a lot of thematic inspiration from it. It also has a lot in common with and is something of an homage to Wacky Races. There will be shenanigans. I fully expect a wide range of ridiculous characters, exaggerated antics, absurd contraptions, genius bodgers, and dimwitted daredevils. This is the sort of RPG that revels in poking fun at national and period-appropriate stereotypes, is more than a bit tongue in cheek, and is not averse to cleverly breaking the fourth wall. That's not to say that it isn't competitive as well. There will be a winner. However, the focus is equally on worldbuilding and developing interesting storylines and truly zany and memorable contraptions. The following are some basic rules, expectations, and bits of information.






Aircraft and Pilot Specifications













Miscellaneous Information



  • I: If this garners enough interest, an OOC will be posted on the weekend, and it will include a map of the course, some helpful links, a complete and final CS with raw code, and a handy listing summarizing each entry. We'll have to get to at least five players for me to consider running the RPG.
  • II: Any questions, comments, and/or recommendations would be appreciated. If you think that we can run this without the thirty point stat aspect, please sound off below and let me know!
  • III: This RPG has been crossposted on the Drowning City Forums, which mainly focuses on robotic combat RPGs. I guess we'll see which forum shows more interest.
  • IV: Finally, have a skeleton CS:





Good Luck!

...though I expect you to win without it!
Alright. This doesn't seem to have gained much traction, but I'll give it one more boost. If anyone's interested, then please express your interest now. Alternatively, if you're not, feel free to tell me why.

Barring responses from at least a couple of interested parties, I'll can this thing and have something new and a bit more conventional up for tomorrow.
Thanks for the encouragement, @Clever Hans, though I'd still encourage you to give it a shot if you can find the time at all, especially since this is such a niche thing. You can always crash spectacularly or take a dunk in the English Channel if you just can't keep up with the RPG or need to leave for whatever reason!
So, conceptually, this is a cool idea and I like it, but I'd love to see a little more info, personally.

1) what sort of technology level can we expect, at least roughly?

2) You listed it as nation, so are we controlling governments as opposed to individuals for the most part?

3) Is there any sort of central plotline/problem/opportunity/conflict that drives the story or is it more of a sandbox?
First, for some Theme music!




The Great Air Race Begins!


The year is nineteen hundred ten. King Edward VII sits upon the throne of England (but for how much longer?) and all is well within the British Empire. Nevermind those ambitious Germans, meddlesome French, reckless Yankees, and chaotic Italians. Yes, indeed. Everything is jolly good (so long as you're a white British fellow from a reasonably well-to-do family, that is)!

There is one small problem, however: those tiresome new technologies so beloved of the Americans and continentals. Britannia may rule the waves, but she does not rule the skies - at least not yet. To this patriotic end (and also to increase the circulation of his newspaper and simply because he has money to burn), the English newspaper baron Lord Worthington has decided to bankroll a great air race from London to Paris and then back again to London. As encouragement, he has offered up the princely sum of £15,000 to go to the victor, who he fully expects to be a loyal subject of the crown.

Already a dazzling assortment of aviators, mechanics, and dreamers has started to pour into the new purpose-built aerodrome taking shape in the northern suburbs of London. Whether by invitation, word of mouth, or by having read about the event in local newspapers, they have made their way to this mecca of nascent aviation with one goal in mind: win. Some are motivated by a lust for money. Some crave fame. Others have been swept up in a wave of patriotic fervour, and still others are here to prove a point, whether it be political, moral, or personal. One thing is for certain: the great air race is set to be a spectacle like nothing that has ever been witnessed before, and naturally, the presses and the public are all agog about those magnificent men in their flying machines.





Entry Guidelines for the Interested Aviator


So, this is a lighthearted competitive RPG set during the peculiar Indian Summer of the Late Edwardian Period, four years before the First World War broke out and when flying was still new, exciting, and oh-so-glamourous. It's based on the 1965 movie of the same name and borrows a lot of thematic inspiration from it. It also has a lot in common with and is something of an homage to Wacky Races. There will be shenanigans. I fully expect a wide range of ridiculous characters, exaggerated antics, absurd contraptions, genius bodgers, and dimwitted daredevils. This is the sort of RPG that revels in poking fun at national and period-appropriate stereotypes, is more than a bit tongue in cheek, and is not averse to cleverly breaking the fourth wall. That's not to say that it isn't competitive as well. There will be a winner. However, the focus is equally on worldbuilding and developing interesting storylines and truly zany and memorable contraptions. The following are some basic rules, expectations, and bits of information.






Aircraft and Pilot Specifications













Miscellaneous Information


  • I: If this garners enough interest, an OOC will be posted on the weekend, and it will include a map of the course, some helpful links, a complete and final CS with raw code, and a handy listing summarizing each entry. We'll have to get to at least five players for me to consider running the RPG.
  • II: Any questions, comments, and/or recommendations would be appreciated. If you think that we can run this without the thirty point stat aspect, please sound off below and let me know!
  • III: This RPG has been crossposted on the Drowning City Forums, which mainly focuses on robotic combat RPGs. I guess we'll see which forum shows more interest.
  • IV: Finally, have a skeleton CS:





Good Luck!

...though I expect you to win without it!
Always down for something involving the distant human past. I've joined the discord already, so count me in!
I was going to have the twins manage to grab onto that truck that was escaping and hitch a ride back to town, mainly because I'm really interested in this RP, but I'm going to be pretty busy for the next little while - busy enough to not really keep up.
@Ferrocerium

Thanks for the quick response. Kaeli definitely 'stands' out once you notice her. I figured I'd strike up a conversation and possibly make your character an offer while we wait for the next update IC. Also, she's definitely messing with Rogalfi in an attempt to practice her 'human-style humour', though there may be more.

@Oddsbod

Can I respond to him immediately or should I wait until somebody else posts before I do? I find that different GMs have different policies on that sort of thing.
Stai male, Simona thinks as she hobbles along. At least he's trying. It sure beats nothing. "I, ah... I'm okay!" she manages as the others run past her. She piles into the truck a few seconds behind them and something sharp pokes at her stump. Cazzo! It's all that she can do to avoid actually shouting the word. She gets a couple of glances, but then Robert's outlining a plan that involves more killing and shooting and blowing things up and precisely zero espionage and Silvio's mashing the pedal. Her leg. Simona has to get it off. It's damaged and it's hurting her. "Mannaggia!" She hisses mostly under her breath. The Opel rumbles down the road and she shamelessly reaches up her dress and undoes all of the straps holding Legnoso on. Just as she can feel it come free, there's shouting and shooting, and she ducks and covers. Two Germans get run over, her prosthetic tumbles to the floor of the truck, and they keep barreling along. She glares up at Silvio with all of the ersatz fury that she can muster. "Looka dis!" she shouts, "Looka what you do!" She looks at Robert. "Whenna we go a take ah da treno, you no ah letta him drive. Okay? Ima gonna drive!" She crosses her arms. "So, is ah enne person ah hurt?"
The Legion giveth, the Legion taketh away. Kaeli had made a killing over the past couple of days, what with all of the minor repairs. It had scarcely been challenging work - not for one more accustomed to working on the machines of yore - but it had put more coin in her purse than anything else she'd done in this town - the people paid mostly in eggs, bread, and mead. Still, the legion had deprived her of her fountain. Every day, for the past two months, she'd perched on its lip, partly to place herself closer to eye level, and partly because restoring it had become something of a pet project. Every day, she'd sat there and offered her repair and appraisal services to passerby and actually made enough to live on. Kaeli felt that she'd claimed the old fountain, at least to the point that some of the townspeople had more or less come to expect her there, but perhaps that was an Elven conceit: the idea that your space was your own to the exclusion of others.

Of course, the irrational bit of resentment - they'd given her far more than two days worth of regular business - didn't stop the elf from availing herself of the free food. She'd even considered joining up and hitching a ride out of town, but then there was the 'able bodied' stipulation. Legs must be so convenient, she grumbles inwardly, making her way through a gaggle of curious onlookers. She doesn't see much but knees, thighs, crotches, and glimpses of grey sky when she glances upward. She slips between the moving bodies, paying careful attention to the placement of her hands. It wouldn't do to get them stepped on. Her hands are everything, and the fact that this town is mostly paved is half of the reason why she's stayed here so long. It's nice not to be all muddy for once. Nonetheless, she's been feeling the itch to continue on to a larger city, one where she might be able to find more of use and work with some dignity.

Eventually, Kaeli finds her way out of what is actually quite a small crowd and remembers a nearby building with a decent-sized ledge and an awning, only to find that a traveling courier has already set himself up over there, his sign - replete with misspellings - posted up behind him. She looks around the square. There's the upcoming hanging, of course, all the better to remind people of who makes the rules. Kaeli avoids looking at the magic user. Anyone who can break the natural laws of the world and has been backed into a corner is not safe to be around. The Legion recruiters are taking advantage of the spectacle: a bearded man on a mule has just signed up and there are sure to be others. One of the recruiters is regaling the townspeople with a tale that Kaeli supposes is good. She's been living among humans for some time now and even aping their behaviours, but understanding what actually makes them tick is not as easy as imitating that ticking.

No more than a dozen people are lounging around over in the Boar while a bard plays a soft tune. Kaeli generally avoids anything stronger than the occasional glass of wine. She glances down a couple of roards to see if interesting folk filtering into the square, and spots a spidery-looking Carnelian. You're as rare a creature as I, she muses. Her eyes rove one more time across the loose gathering of mostly-cloaked figures and then they stop. That one. She's an elf. It's subtle, but Kaeli can tell by the way that she walks. Your ability to recognize your own people is magnified in a place where they're so few among so many.

The hour is growing later and the shadows would be getting long if there were any on a day like this. Kaeli does not like executions, but she does like money. She scoots up to the courier and asks him a question: "Sorry to bother you, sir, but just how much weight can you carry in that bag of yours?"
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