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A world with no moon.
Lost technological relics.
Submerged cities.
Lumbering steel giants.
Mutant gods.
Humanity was granted a second chance, but at what cost?
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Story
Setting
Rules
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Story
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Long ago, a catastrophic event occurred.
The moon, which orbited the Earth faithfully for so many years, died.
Only orbiting debris of serve as a reminder of what was lost.

Hundreds of years have passed.
The world is young again.
Nature has reclaimed the landscape; the cities of man are being conquered by desert, forest, and sea.
Try as it might, humankind had been unable to reestablish any sort of stable society.

The tides are wild. The weather, unpredictable.
Remnants of the moon linger in the day sky.
Mutants roam the land, some revered as gods.
Giant steel colossi purge the land with fire.

The database of knowledge mankind had fought so hard to build is being whittled away.
Technology and books are precious. Most things have ceased to work.

As human kind struggles to live on, new wonders appear every day.
In this delusive world, life continues.
For better.
Or for worse.

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Intro
Story

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Rules
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Creativity is job one.
The plot is broad. I implore you to utilize that.

Obey Gaia ToS.
I don't want any trouble with the fuzz.

Romance is allowed and encouraged, but please, folks.
This RP isn't a dating service.

Violence is allowed.
Swearing is allowed.

Just use common sense.

Be semi-literate.
Mind your Periods & Question-marks.
That doesn't mean water down your posts for word counts.
Sometimes Often Pretty much all the time less is more.


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Intro
Story
Rules

Rumors
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Rumors
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[Basic sub-plots you might want to follow up on, as well as a little baskstory on the world.]

The mutants are said to come from a crater to the north.

According to supposed first-hand accounts, the steel colossi always come from the west.

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Intro
Story
Rules
Character Profiles
Rumors

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I have 1/2 a bottle of Gin (left) and haven't RP'd in 3+ years!
THE THREAD IS OPEN, LETS DO THIS.

Amorous Strawberry

18,325 Points
  • Gender Swap 100
  • Ultimate Player 200
  • Risky Lifestyle 100
(I like the premise for this rp a lot! Hope this isn't too long )



The bay was calm. The storm had scrubbed everything clean. The sky was an impossible blue, meeting the ocean on the horizon, and creating a perfect, pristine shell. Khalid floated on his back in the water, enjoying the bright, hot sun. He'd been worried that him and his boat would be washed out to sea by the pounding waves. But once again he'd survived. Maybe he was lucky.

Turning over, he swam back to his boat, his only home, and pulled himself up. He was a diver by trade. Going up and down the coast, bringing up whatever salvageable treasures he could find. Old tech would fetch him good money, but that wasn't all he sold. Pearls and fish and jewelry padded out his income. So long as he could find a buyer.

His packs were full, at the moment. Which made him nervous. The only place where he could sell all of it was the City. And it was also the most dangerous. Khalid hated going there. He pulled on a ratty t-shirt, and started the engine. Even though he didn't like it, he didn't have much choice. With nerves making a weight in his guts, he turned the nose of his rusty little ship to the east, and the City.
Maybe it was the last shot he'd ever take. The thought crossed his mind every time he met the bottom of a bottle, which wasn't often.

He sighed, an artificial joy seeping down his entire being. If the trend continued, he'd find another bottle in two or three months. The flames danced around the two-by-fours he sat in front of. Popping, cackling; threatening to send a rouge, rusty nail flying his way. Is that how it worked? Probably not.

The boy ran a hand through his greasy hair, hacking up some sawdust and spitting into the fire. Cutting the joists of the old shack had been a b***h, but he had firewood for days now. Sizzling. Popping. Illuminating the dip of concrete debris. He'd set up camp on the outskirts of some ruins (the name was lost to rust and time), in a little bowl of concrete and steel. Tomorrow, he would begin the expedition. It was a big city, which often meant a chance of civilization, a plethora of supplies… Or hunters.

The last drop of vodka missed his mouth and trailed down his chin. He almost gagged-- it didn't taste great. Nothing did. What a shame that would have been, coughing up one/two-hundred year old alcohol.

((Thanks. It, too, is 3+ years old. Going to assume, to start off, that you made the trip to the City, and that this guy's camp is near a body of water.))
Marcus looked around the weather today wasn't bad, sunny and warm, with a crisp breeze when needed. walking along the edge of the forest the sea to his left. He didn't know how to swim well so he typically avoided the water. he made his way to what had been home so sometime now. a broken down tree that blocked the opening of a small cave barley visible unless you knew what to look for. grabbing his things it was time to move on for now, "I may return to you." he said as he stepped back into sunlight leaving the cave behind him.
((Woot, timelapse.))

The trees weren't terribly dense, and the streams were small enough to jump across. It was the god damned poison-ivy that bothered him. It seemed to run rampant in these woods. His hand brushed against it pretty bad at one point. There was no irritation, yet. His back ached from the 2x4's wedged between his spine and his bag. The wood was too solid and convenient to ditch.

He couldn't see the skyscrapers over the treeline anymore, but he couldn't have been that far off. It'd be another hour/half-hour before he exited the brush. Probably.

Crunch. The boy paused, teeth clench, still as a statue. The crunch had been loud and heavy-- maybe a big deer... Or something else? He waited a moment, scanning the trees. Nothing, as far as he could see.

"Hello?" he cried.

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