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3 yrs ago
Current is sexualizing Pokemon a variation of bestiality?
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3 yrs ago
lol. lmao
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3 yrs ago
JOHN TABLE!
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4 yrs ago
hearing rumors that rebornfan is storming the US capitol, looking for whoever's responsible for everyone ghosting his RPs
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4 yrs ago
you got a fat ass and a bright future ahead of you. keep it up champ
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Bio

Most Recent Posts



Simply hit the RAW button and copy and paste the Template to use it! If you'd like to submit your own unique spin on it, go ahead, but I'd like the basic information I've asked for here to be present. Anything extra earns you a brownie point, though.
Sticks And Stones





I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.
Albert Enstein



Science Fantasy - Post-Apocalypse - Adventure - Political Intrigue



Crumbling towers of rusted steel and broken glass reach high into the heavens, standing as stark sentinels of a bygone age. Chariots with wheels of rubber and chassis of broken iron fill unwalked roads, and cities of impossible construction stretch for miles upon miles- empty of any signs of life. Save, of course, for the Broken. Those terrible creatures of fang and claw that crawl in the darkest corners of the old world, their hives nestled in the tall towers and under the bridges of stone. Only the bravest knights or the most desperate adventurers would dare to invade the lands of the Broken, and a scarce few of them ever return.

No one remembers what destroyed the world. Perhaps it was a war that encompassed every nation and every people, where weapons of incredible destructive power were unleashed, and everything was wiped out. Perhaps disease, unknowable and incurable, spread about the land and wrought the hand of death on all that drew breath. Or perhaps it was the arrival of the Broken that claimed the lives of the Before Men. Or maybe it was none of these things. By some awful chance, it could be a combination of all of them. No one knows for sure. Even the eldest scribes and the most traveled storytellers only know tiny pieces of what the old world was like. Wild tales of fantasy had intermingled with the truth down the ages, deluding what was known with stories of ancient powers and cruel gods.

It's rebirth is similarly surrounded in a veil of mystery. It is known that all life came to an end, but something...something brought it back. Some unknown force reached down into the radiation-ridden muck of the earth and dragged forth the next generation of men. It pressed into their unbeating chests the power that would forever change the world: Magic. A gift barely understood by those that wield it, magic was the only thing that kept man alive. It cut through the darkness, drove off the beasts that nipped at man's heels, gathered people together and allowed them to climb out from the pits of hell that their ancestors had damned them to so long ago.

As man rose up, no longer concerned with monsters and beasts, it turned on itself. Tribes wrestled for dominance over their fellow man. They fought with club and rock, spear and arrow. They made war over resources as simple as food, water and land. It was a time of darkness as brother turned against brother. But through death, through conflict, came life. From the fires of hate came out a race forged stalwart and unbreakable. Mankind was able to recreate, to rebuild what was lost so long ago. War had forced them to erect palisades around their camps. Tents were replaced by permanent structures. In the never ending search for better tools to destroy other tribes, they had rediscovered metalworking and masonry. And as the years passed, permanent settlements began to dot the land once more. They became cities. Soon cities and tribes interwove, putting down sword and spear in favor of trade and friendship- and nations were formed. And from those early nations rose up kingdoms that would stand the test of time.




OOC Information





Welcome to Sticks And Stones, a far future Science Fantasy Roleplay set in what was once the United States. I will be your guide in your travels across this strange land wrought with danger, mystery and adventure. Here are a few things you should know about Sticks and Stones before we continue:

-If I were to give this RP a level, it'd be somewhere around High Casual.

-I'm looking for at least four adventurers to take up this quest, though I won't be putting a cap on the number of applicants unless things get absurd. My usual rule of thumb is the more the merrier, and I will more than likely keep the RP open even after we have started. It may be difficult to join in at certain points, but I will do my best to work everyone in.

-I'd like applicants to be in it for the long haul. Posts may come slower than in some other RPs since things like school, work, or other real life obligations can get in the way of writing. Anyone coming in should be prepared for that, and patience for your fellow writers is necessary. With that said, I'd like that we at least stay in contact so that everyone knows we're all still in the game. I ask that a weekly update is given, either in the form of a post or informing us that you won't be able to post this week. How we'll proceed when someone drops or if they have a long absence will be discussed when we come to it, though if you can't be active for a long amount of time your character may be skipped over so that the story can continue moving. A postless RP quickly becomes a dead one, after all.

-Length isn't too important to be, but substance is. All posts should offer something that others can react to or work off of. If your last post could be deleted and it wouldn't affect the scene in the slightest, something's gone wrong. In general one-liners or very short posts that offer little in the way of substance are frowned upon. Don't feel the need to rush out a short post. You've got at least a week to write one, after all!

-When we start out, everyone will be allowed one character. As things move forward this may change, but I would like for us to keep things small and laser focused when we first begin.

-General rules for the site and Roleplaying in general apply, obviously. Basically: smut/+18 situations are mandatory fade to black, treat everyone else involved in the game well, and don't power/meta/god game, and all that jazz. The RP will touch on mature themes like violence, and may go into detail, so just keep that in mind before applying.

-The beginning premise of Sticks And Stones is that we are a party of adventurers brought together by special order of the king. We will be sent into the remains of the city of Dallas in search of still-working artifacts from the old world.




The Setting/Worldbuilding














LONG LIVE MARS

CDR. ROSS
VITAE LOG #1
21st April, 2216
♪♪♪



This was the end.

It had been a long time coming. Years of blood, sweat and tears had been poured into every inch of the twelve massive arks that now embodied the last hope of all of humanity. The whole time, man had kept an eye to the heavens, praying that the enemy did not come. Praying that they would be able to finish the Genesis Project before they arrived. Their prayers fell on the ears of a deaf god, for Devastation was upon them. Riding in chariots of living flesh, that spewed nuclear hellfire from their gaping maws, came the enemy. Some believed them to be demons. Monstrous creatures from beyond the veil of the natural world, coming to reap the souls of men. Others thought they were a force of the divine. They believed that man had committed a grave sin when it first sparked to life the wormholes that brought the Devastators upon them. This was, supposedly, their punishment.

Total and complete extermination.

The enemy had gathered at their gates. Ships of impossible design numbering in the thousands were descending on Mars even then. Even as Commander Elijah Ross waited with baited breath for the Vitae to launch, they came. Holographic view screens floated in the air before the commander, drawing his gaze between them.

Each one showed something different. A Federation news cast detailing the launch of the Arks was playing to his far left. On it, a beautiful looking young woman was trying to deliver her script between her broken sobs. Opposite that was a live feed from Mars orbit. Every last military vessel humanity had to offer had joined together above Ross's home. Millions of sailors and Corpsmen manned thousands of warships, waiting with hate in their hearts and fear in their souls for the monsters that would tear them all to shreds.

Directly in front of Elijah was a cast of High Admiral Constantine and the twelve Ark commanders as he delivered the last words any of them would hear from the man. A hero in every sense of the word, Roland was the perfect choice to lead the fight against the Devastators. He was the only choice. Men would die in the millions for him. As Ross sat in the bridge of the Nyx, he couldn't help but think he should be one of those men. He should've been sitting at the helm of a frigate alongside the rest of the Martian Unity fleet.

Elijah should be dying to protect his home.

He took in a sharp inhale, air rushing into his lungs through the respirator he wore. The heavy duty appliance was modulated to the Prometheus exoskeleton he wore. Elijah's shoulders shuddered with each breath. The weight of his assisted breathing device only compounding with the heavy sense of guilt he felt for abandoning his people. His planet would die. Billions along with it. 'What gives me the right?' Ross kept asking himself. 'Why in God's name do I get to live while everyone else...'

He could only imagine how many more deserving people there were that were trapped on his homeworld. He could practically see them in his mind. Millions of children with terror in their eyes as they clung to their mothers and fathers in Martian disaster bunkers, wondering what will become of them. There were billions of others who could be sitting where he was. Younger men with families of their own who were healthier and stronger than he. Why couldn't Ross take the place of some other captain in the fleet? Some bright eyed, hopeful commander who would live for sixty more years to lead the remnants of humanity.

It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. They were all going to fucking die. Every last person on Earth, Mars and beyond that wasn't on one of the arks was going to be slaughtered.

The holographic screens before him were sent away with a swipe of his hand. Elijah motioned, bringing up a televised feed on Arcadia. He had grown up in those streets. He had played on them, worked on them. And now, years later, they'd be filled with the bodies of good Martian men and women who deserved better. "God damn it." Ross rasped, his hands clutched together in his lap. They were clammy with sweat. Every inch of his body ached with an overwhelming desire to act. Elijah wanted to command his crew to disengage the locks, to force open the hangar so that they could fly out and join the fight. It was a stupid desire. Ross had his duty, and he could not- would not- abandon his post. To do so would be to spit in the face of every other man that had been doomed to die and not even given the chance to climb aboard the arks.

No, Elijah had to go through with this. He had to give this mission his all. Thus was his duty to mankind. His duty to the Martian Unity.

Thus, was his duty to Mars.

With how large the Vitae was, Elijah could barely feel the engines kick-starting. He was only made aware when his engineering officer called it out. The man's voice had shaken as he spoke those few words. Everyone else on the bridge remained dead silent, save for the quiet sobbing of one of the petty officers. Her family had been denied a place aboard the Arks. There just wasn't enough room.

What Elijah wouldn't give for that officer's husband to be standing in his place.

Ross kept his eyes on the view screen. He watched an empty Arcadia, listening to the klaxons play through the dusty streets for no one but him to hear. Everyone had been move down to the shelters. It only offered the illusion of safety. The enemy wouldn't be stopped by a few hundred feet of rock. No underground bunker would help stop this. This was the end for them.

The Engineering Officer pulled something up on the main screen. Ross tore his eyes away from his home, looking up to the stars. He had brought up the feed pointed toward the Eye of Thea. That was their last hope. A portal to God knows where. Behind that swirling eye lay an unknown host of obstacles that stood between them and survival. A long journey lay ahead of them. It was entirely possible that each and every Genesis Ark would be destroyed before they found a suitable planet for colonization. This voyage could very well be the last effort to touch the sky for a species that was being dragged kicking and screaming into the mouth of hell.

With tears in his eyes, the old war dog looked back to Arcadia. Barren, empty, and facing it's end. Ross flipped the screen back to the fleet in orbit, watching a squadron of fighters flash by the camera as they made their way to the front. "Give 'em hell, boys." Elijah growled. Those were the final words he spoke as he shut down his personal screens. His gaze moved back up to the Eye of Thea.

Though this was the end for his home, it was also the beginning of their journey. The beginning of hope.

"Long live Mars."

LONG LIVE MARS

CDR. ROSS
VITAE LOG #1
21st April, 2216
♪♪♪



This was the end.

It had been a long time coming. Years of blood, sweat and tears had been poured into every inch of the twelve massive arks that now embodied the last hope of all of humanity. The whole time, man had kept an eye to the heavens, praying that the enemy did not come. Praying that they would be able to finish the Genesis Project before they arrived. Their prayers fell on the ears of a deaf god, for Devastation was upon them. Riding in chariots of living flesh, that spewed nuclear hellfire from their gaping maws, came the enemy. Some believed them to be demons. Monstrous creatures from beyond the veil of the natural world, coming to reap the souls of men. Others thought they were a force of the divine. They believed that man had committed a grave sin when it first sparked to life the wormholes that brought the Devastators upon them. This was, supposedly, their punishment.

Total and complete extermination.

The enemy had gathered at their gates. Ships of impossible design numbering in the thousands were descending on Mars even then. Even as Commander Elijah Ross waited with baited breath for the Vitae to launch, they came. Holographic view screens floated in the air before the commander, drawing his gaze between them.

Each one showed something different. A Federation news cast detailing the launch of the Arks was playing to his far left. On it, a beautiful looking young woman was trying to deliver her script between her broken sobs. Opposite that was a live feed from Mars orbit. Every last military vessel humanity had to offer had joined together above Ross's home. Millions of sailors and Corpsmen manned thousands of warships, waiting with hate in their hearts and fear in their souls for the monsters that would tear them all to shreds.

Directly in front of Elijah was a cast of High Admiral Constantine and the twelve Ark commanders as he delivered the last words any of them would hear from the man. A hero in every sense of the word, Roland was the perfect choice to lead the fight against the Devastators. He was the only choice. Men would die in the millions for him. As Ross sat in the bridge of the Nyx, he couldn't help but think he should be one of those men. He should've been sitting at the helm of a frigate alongside the rest of the Martian Unity fleet.

Elijah should be dying to protect his home.

He took in a sharp inhale, air rushing into his lungs through the respirator he wore. The heavy duty appliance was modulated to the Prometheus exoskeleton he wore. Elijah's shoulders shuddered with each breath. The weight of his assisted breathing device only compounding with the heavy sense of guilt he felt for abandoning his people. His planet would die. Billions along with it. 'What gives me the right?' Ross kept asking himself. 'Why in God's name do I get to live while everyone else...'

He could only imagine how many more deserving people there were that were trapped on his homeworld. He could practically see them in his mind. Millions of children with terror in their eyes as they clung to their mothers and fathers in Martian disaster bunkers, wondering what will become of them. There were billions of others who could be sitting where he was. Younger men with families of their own who were healthier and stronger than he. Why couldn't Ross take the place of some other captain in the fleet? Some bright eyed, hopeful commander who would live for sixty more years to lead the remnants of humanity.

It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. They were all going to fucking die. Every last person on Earth, Mars and beyond that wasn't on one of the arks was going to be slaughtered.

The holographic screens before him were sent away with a swipe of his hand. Elijah motioned, bringing up a televised feed on Arcadia. He had grown up in those streets. He had played on them, worked on them. And now, years later, they'd be filled with the bodies of good Martian men and women who deserved better. "God damn it." Ross rasped, his hands clutched together in his lap. They were clammy with sweat. Every inch of his body ached with an overwhelming desire to act. Elijah wanted to command his crew to disengage the locks, to force open the hangar so that they could fly out and join the fight. It was a stupid desire. Ross had his duty, and he could not- would not- abandon his post. To do so would be to spit in the face of every other man that had been doomed to die and not even given the chance to climb aboard the arks.

No, Elijah had to go through with this. He had to give this mission his all. Thus was his duty to mankind. His duty to the Martian Unity.

Thus, was his duty to Mars.

With how large the Vitae was, Elijah could barely feel the engines kick-starting. He was only made aware when his engineering officer called it out. The man's voice had shaken as he spoke those few words. Everyone else on the bridge remained dead silent, save for the quiet sobbing of one of the petty officers. Her family had been denied a place aboard the Arks. There just wasn't enough room.

What Elijah wouldn't give for that officer's husband to be standing in his place.

Ross kept his eyes on the view screen. He watched an empty Arcadia, listening to the klaxons play through the dusty streets for no one but him to hear. Everyone had been move down to the shelters. It only offered the illusion of safety. The enemy wouldn't be stopped by a few hundred feet of rock. No underground bunker would help stop this. This was the end for them.

The Engineering Officer pulled something up on the main screen. Ross tore his eyes away from his home, looking up to the stars. He had brought up the feed pointed toward the Eye of Thea. That was their last hope. A portal to God knows where. Behind that swirling eye lay an unknown host of obstacles that stood between them and survival. A long journey lay ahead of them. It was entirely possible that each and every Genesis Ark would be destroyed before they found a suitable planet for colonization. This voyage could very well be the last effort to touch the sky for a species that was being dragged kicking and screaming into the mouth of hell.

With tears in his eyes, the old war dog looked back to Arcadia. Barren, empty, and facing it's end. Ross flipped the screen back to the fleet in orbit, watching a squadron of fighters flash by the camera as they made their way to the front. "Give 'em hell, boys." Elijah growled. Those were the final words he spoke as he shut down his personal screens. His gaze moved back up to the Eye of Thea.

Though this was the end for his home, it was also the beginning of their journey. The beginning of hope.

"Long live Mars."
Glad to have you all on board! I'll get started on the OOC, and send out a mass ping when it's finished.
Sticks And Stones





I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.
Albert Enstein



Science Fantasy - Post-Apocalypse - Adventure - Political Intrigue



Crumbling towers of rusted steel and broken glass reach high into the heavens, standing as stark sentinels of a bygone age. Chariots with wheels of rubber and chassis of broken iron fill unwalked roads, and cities of impossible construction stretch for miles upon miles- empty of any signs of life. Save, of course, for the Broken. Those terrible creatures of fang and claw that crawl in the darkest corners of the old world, their hives nestled in the tall towers and under the bridges of stone. Only the bravest knights or the most desperate adventurers would dare to invade the lands of the Broken, and a scarce few of them ever return.

No one remembers what destroyed the world. Perhaps it was a war that encompassed every nation and every people, where weapons of incredible destructive power were unleashed, and everything was wiped out. Perhaps disease, unknowable and incurable, spread about the land and wrought the hand of death on all that drew breath. Or perhaps it was the arrival of the Broken that claimed the lives of the Before Men. Or maybe it was none of these things. By some awful chance, it could be a combination of all of them. No one knows for sure. Even the eldest scribes and the most traveled storytellers only know tiny pieces of what the old world was like. Wild tales of fantasy had intermingled with the truth down the ages, deluding what was known with stories of ancient powers and cruel gods.

It's rebirth is similarly surrounded in a veil of mystery. It is known that all life came to an end, but something...something brought it back. Some unknown force reached down into the radiation-ridden muck of the earth and dragged forth the next generation of men. It pressed into their unbeating chests the power that would forever change the world: Magic. A gift barely understood by those that wield it, magic was the only thing that kept man alive. It cut through the darkness, drove off the beasts that nipped at man's heels, gathered people together and allowed them to climb out from the pits of hell that their ancestors had damned them to so long ago.

As man rose up, no longer concerned with monsters and beasts, it turned on itself. Tribes wrestled for dominance over their fellow man. They fought with club and rock, spear and arrow. They made war over resources as simple as food, water and land. It was a time of darkness as brother turned against brother. But through death, through conflict, came life. From the fires of hate came out a race forged stalwart and unbreakable. Mankind was able to recreate, to rebuild what was lost so long ago. War had forced them to erect palisades around their camps. Tents were replaced by permanent structures. In the never ending search for better tools to destroy other tribes, they had rediscovered metalworking and masonry. And as the years passed, permanent settlements began to dot the land once more. They became cities. Soon cities and tribes interwove, putting down sword and spear in favor of trade and friendship- and nations were formed. And from those early nations rose up kingdoms that would stand the test of time.




OOC Information




Welcome to Sticks And Stones, a far future Science Fantasy Roleplay set in what was once the United States. I will be your guide in your travels across this strange land wrought with danger, mystery and adventure. Here are a few things you should know about Sticks and Stones before we continue:

-If I were to give this RP a level, it'd be somewhere around High Casual.

-I'm looking for at least four adventurers to take up this quest, though I won't be putting a cap on the number of applicants unless things get absurd. My usual rule of thumb is the more the merrier, and I will more than likely keep the RP open even after we have started. It may be difficult to join in at certain points, but I will do my best to work everyone in.

-I'd like applicants to be in it for the long haul. Posts may come slower than in some other RPs since things like school, work, or other real life obligations can get in the way of writing. Anyone coming in should be prepared for that, and patience for your fellow writers is necessary. With that said, I'd like that we at least stay in contact so that everyone knows we're all still in the game. I ask that a weekly update is given, either in the form of a post or informing us that you won't be able to post this week. How we'll proceed when someone drops or if they have a long absence will be discussed when we come to it, though if you can't be active for a long amount of time your character may be skipped over so that the story can continue moving. A postless RP quickly becomes a dead one, after all.

-Length isn't too important to be, but substance is. All posts should offer something that others can react to or work off of. If your last post could be deleted and it wouldn't affect the scene in the slightest, something's gone wrong. In general one-liners or very short posts that offer little in the way of substance are frowned upon. Don't feel the need to rush out a short post. You've got at least a week to write one, after all!

-When we start out, everyone will be allowed one character. As things move forward this may change, but I would like for us to keep things small and laser focused when we first begin.

-General rules for the site and Roleplaying in general apply, obviously. Basically: smut/+18 situations are mandatory fade to black, treat everyone else involved in the game well, and don't power/meta/god game, and all that jazz. The RP will touch on mature themes like violence, and may go into detail, so just keep that in mind before applying.

-The beginning premise of Sticks And Stones is that we are a party of adventurers brought together by special order of the king. We will be sent into the remains of the city of Dallas in search of still-working artifacts from the old world.




The Setting/Worldbuilding




I'll be laying out most of the Worldbuilding facts in writing when I put together the actual OOC, but I'm willing to answer any questions you might have. If you have any ideas in regards to the creation of the world itself, feel free to PM me- new ideas are always appreciated. However, here are the important bits:

-Sticks And Stones will start in the Kingdom of Dall, situated in modern day Texas/Oklahoma. The Kingdom of Dall is the oldest of the major kingdoms in the Northlands, and is ruled over by King Astius II. He is wise and fair, preferring peace and diplomacy over war-making. Dallians are tough and hardworking folk, who prize their industriousness over all things. Dall is known far and wide for its artisans, who craft better goods than any other kingdom good dream of. They are a rich people with most of their income coming from trade.

-In this new world, treasures of the old one more valuable than gemstones or gold. Finding a working electronic could potentially set one up for life. Of course, most of these surviving treasures have long since been horded up by the rich and powerful. Those that remain are trapped in the looming cities of broken glass and sharp steel, where monsters dwell, guarding the goods of the ancients from those that would see them taken back by man's ancestors.

-Advancement has stalled, and technology has been plunged back into the dark ages. Things like indoor plumbing, electricity, and any other number of modern inventions are considered lost to mankind. There are ongoing efforts to obtain old world artifacts by the brightest minds of certain kingdoms- like Dall- who seek to understand and, perhaps one day, even replicate the technologies of old.

-The bulk of adventurers and warriors fight with the typical fantasy weapons. Medieval tools like the sword, spear and bow are quite common in the arsenals of the new world. While some old world weapons survived, they are far too rare for any average person to have heard of them, outside of stories about 'sticks that spew fire.' They are more likely to know about magic than they are about guns.

-Magic exists, though it is incredibly rare. Most people are unlikely to possess strong magical abilities, with the few rare exceptions being the wizards, witches and sorcerers that inhabit the world. Magic is tied directly to the incantations used There are certain magics that can be cast using scrolls, but these tend to be rather weak in comparison to the 'real' magic of a wizard. I will likely only be accepting a few magic users into the party for the reasons stated above. Magic behaves in a similar manner to Dungeons and Dragons.

To cast a spell, one must wield a specific, enchanted object (such as a staff or wand) and verbally recite the spell's full name in an incantation. The power of these incantations is directly tied to how loudly the magician speaks the word, with more powerful spells being more exhausting to use than normal ones.

There are two sub types of magic: Arcane and Elemental.

Elemental magic is that which encompasses the manipulation or creation of things that already exist. So the elements such as fire, water, earth and air, or things like metal or nature, would fall under this category. Most magic is elemental, so it is the primary weapon of most wizards.

The other type is Arcane, which encompasses things not of this world. This is the more fantastical manipulation of vague magic energies, or powers of a divine nature. Spells that can resurrect or command the dead, that cast bolts of energy, or to open a portal. Arcane spells are usually tied to scrolls, as casting 'full power' arcane magic is a rare ability that most do not possess.
Sticks And Stones





I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.
Albert Enstein



Science Fantasy - Post-Apocalypse - Adventure - Political Intrigue



Crumbling towers of rusted steel and broken glass reach high into the heavens, standing as stark sentinels of a bygone age. Chariots with wheels of rubber and chassis of broken iron fill unwalked roads, and cities of impossible construction stretch for miles upon miles- empty of any signs of life. Save, of course, for the Broken. Those terrible creatures of fang and claw that crawl in the darkest corners of the old world, their hives nestled in the tall towers and under the bridges of stone. Only the bravest knights or the most desperate adventurers would dare to invade the lands of the Broken, and a scarce few of them ever return.

No one remembers what destroyed the world. Perhaps it was a war that encompassed every nation and every people, where weapons of incredible destructive power were unleashed, and everything was wiped out. Perhaps disease, unknowable and incurable, spread about the land and wrought the hand of death on all that drew breath. Or perhaps it was the arrival of the Broken that claimed the lives of the Before Men. Or maybe it was none of these things. By some awful chance, it could be a combination of all of them. No one knows for sure. Even the eldest scribes and the most traveled storytellers only know tiny pieces of what the old world was like. Wild tales of fantasy had intermingled with the truth down the ages, deluding what was known with stories of ancient powers and cruel gods.

It's rebirth is similarly surrounded in a veil of mystery. It is known that all life came to an end, but something...something brought it back. Some unknown force reached down into the radiation-ridden muck of the earth and dragged forth the next generation of men. It pressed into their unbeating chests the power that would forever change the world: Magic. A gift barely understood by those that wield it, magic was the only thing that kept man alive. It cut through the darkness, drove off the beasts that nipped at man's heels, gathered people together and allowed them to climb out from the pits of hell that their ancestors had damned them to so long ago.

As man rose up, no longer concerned with monsters and beasts, it turned on itself. Tribes wrestled for dominance over their fellow man. They fought with club and rock, spear and arrow. They made war over resources as simple as food, water and land. It was a time of darkness as brother turned against brother. But through death, through conflict, came life. From the fires of hate came out a race forged stalwart and unbreakable. Mankind was able to recreate, to rebuild what was lost so long ago. War had forced them to erect palisades around their camps. Tents were replaced by permanent structures. In the never ending search for better tools to destroy other tribes, they had rediscovered metalworking and masonry. And as the years passed, permanent settlements began to dot the land once more. They became cities. Soon cities and tribes interwove, putting down sword and spear in favor of trade and friendship- and nations were formed. And from those early nations rose up kingdoms that would stand the test of time.




OOC Information





Welcome to Sticks And Stones, a far future Science Fantasy Roleplay set in what was once the United States. I will be your guide in your travels across this strange land wrought with danger, mystery and adventure. Here are a few things you should know about Sticks and Stones before we continue:

-If I were to give this RP a level, it'd be somewhere around High Casual.

-I'm looking for at least four adventurers to take up this quest, though I won't be putting a cap on the number of applicants unless things get absurd. My usual rule of thumb is the more the merrier, and I will more than likely keep the RP open even after we have started. It may be difficult to join in at certain points, but I will do my best to work everyone in.

-I'd like applicants to be in it for the long haul. Posts may come slower than in some other RPs since things like school, work, or other real life obligations can get in the way of writing. Anyone coming in should be prepared for that, and patience for your fellow writers is necessary. With that said, I'd like that we at least stay in contact so that everyone knows we're all still in the game. I ask that a weekly update is given, either in the form of a post or informing us that you won't be able to post this week. How we'll proceed when someone drops or if they have a long absence will be discussed when we come to it, though if you can't be active for a long amount of time your character may be skipped over so that the story can continue moving. A postless RP quickly becomes a dead one, after all.

-Length isn't too important to be, but substance is. All posts should offer something that others can react to or work off of. If your last post could be deleted and it wouldn't affect the scene in the slightest, something's gone wrong. In general one-liners or very short posts that offer little in the way of substance are frowned upon. Don't feel the need to rush out a short post. You've got at least a week to write one, after all!

-When we start out, everyone will be allowed one character. As things move forward this may change, but I would like for us to keep things small and laser focused when we first begin.

-General rules for the site and Roleplaying in general apply, obviously. Basically: smut/+18 situations are mandatory fade to black, treat everyone else involved in the game well, and don't power/meta/god game, and all that jazz. The RP will touch on mature themes like violence, and may go into detail, so just keep that in mind before applying.

-The beginning premise of Sticks And Stones is that we are a party of adventurers brought together by special order of the king. We will be sent into the remains of the city of Dallas in search of still-working artifacts from the old world.




The Setting/Worldbuilding











@SepYup, I had Ross and Locke working together pre-Devastator invasion. I don't think anything huge was going on then outside of the cold war, but I assume they've known each other for a good while now.

@ShwiggityShwahRoss isn't a micro-manager, so provided Sullivan doesn't try to interject outside of his area of expertise, they'll get along just fine. Since they're both fairly high ranking members of the crew, they probably got to know each other fairly early on into their voyage. Maybe they met back when people were starting to be loaded on the Vitae?
I'm starting in on Character Relations now. If anyone wants to make any connections with the Commander, lemme know! Considering the fact that he won't have a great deal to do when not leading away missions, Ross has a lot of free time on his hands to get around the ship, so it's pretty likely he's met a number of people already.

Earliest connection Elijah could potentially have is with Captain Lopez. They both served under Locke during the Battle of Mars, and they're some of the higher ranking military officers on board the Vitae, so they've more than likely worked together as well during the first five years. What do you think? @InfamousGuy101

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