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Far into the future, the world has become a vast wasteland; it's desert climate broken by a scattering of small and large Oasis' where people congregate and fight to survive. To survive, one must stay as close as possible to an Oasis, rarely does anyone venture out into the Waste with the exception of pirates and merchants.

No one knows the whole story of how the world was changed. The Leaders only say that the "Wanderers" were responsible and therefore these people, when their identity discovered, are shunned.

However, even the Wanderers don't even know what they've done. The rest of the world only knows half the story, half the reason for the near destruction of the world. The Leaders are infact a vast and wealthy group who were bent on one thing; more wealth and power and thus, they used specific people with abilities in various projects and experiments. Accidents, however, can happen... and the results were obviously disasterous.

Fearful that their pawns would expose the group, they had the Wanderer's minds erased to a certain point in their lives and it is the sole purpose that drives these people to move from Oasis to Oasis, seeking... seeking the answers to why they are shunned and to find out who they truely are....


The results of the experiment has nearly left the entire world a wasteland. Essentially, the world was remade, the major oceans seperating the landmasses into three large continents. Each continent has one major Oasis that basically are ancient looking metropolis' littered with the ruins of what was once towering skyscrappers and other buildings.

Cars and other such motorized vehicles no longer exist; major modes of transportation are camels or other domesticated animals that were able to adapt to the sudden change in climate. Also, due to such an extreme change in the environment, most species have become extinct. Those speices that haven't died out are either endangered or have evolved. Because of this, certain areas of the three continants have food shortages and there are people who are trying to domesticate some of the animals in order to breed them to create a larger food supply for everyone. These are often time done by merchants so that they have some form of merchadise to sell.

One thing that cannot be stressed enough is water is an extremely precious commodity that is heavily regulated by the government (namely the Bastille's). Water is almost like currency in most cases if you don't have enough funds to buy things. Trading and bartering is usually how most business transactions are done. Most, if not all civil war and unrest comes from the situation of little water. Ultimately, your best friend could stab you in the back if they are desperate enough for water. All three metropolis' have what are called Water Plants where people are employed to purify the salt water that is "mined" from the ocean or the fresh water that is pumped from the extreme depths underground. The best job in the world to have is being employed by the Water Plants. If you are not employed by the plants you are more than likely have a merchant job of some kind (this can be a number of things - basically if you sell something you are a merchant), or a pirate stealing and scavenging off of others.

Each metroplis Oasis are very large to the point of being small countries. These places are highly populated and obviously have the best water supply. Due to such massive population, the metropolis' are divided into sectors and then into blocks. For example a person would live in Sector 2, Block 7. This organization of the populace makes it easier for the government to keep track of it's citizens and easier for the Hunters to aid in maintaining order. The smaller oasis' that are near the metropolis are not organized in such a manner due to a significantly less populated area. Also, the smaller cities are not quite as regulated by the government as the metropolis areas.


Aquatech is actually a public front funded by the very wealthy and very powerful family, the Bastille's. What the public doesn't know about the Bastille's is that they are a very powerful group of mystics extending way into their past. They are a family who like power and the wealth they've accumulated over the centuries and do nearly anything to obtain and keep it.

Due to their history and desires, the Bastille's perform mystical experiments and rituals to get what they want. Thus, Aquatech was formed and the technology their employee's created funded the family as well as fulfilling the "rituals" they had them perform. One such experiment has obviously had quiet an effect on people, but instead of taking the blame, the Bastille's and Aquatech blamed their "lab mice," to cover their asses.

Unofficially, the Bastille's essentially run and back the governments of each major Oasis (and surrounding desert land).

Employed by Aquatech, they are the military branch of the company. Hunter's have two missions during their careers; aid the local governments in keeping the population in line and hunting down any possible Wanderers.

Hunter's are an extremely dangerous group of people. They are lethal, they are cunning, they are ruthless. Hunter's obey orders to almost the letter and will dispose of anyone who resist too much or get in the way of their primary mission; kill any suspected Wanderers.

Section Beta refers to a more recently formed group within Aquatech. They have been working closely with Hunter's in order to optimzie performance of their test subjects. Extending their hand into cybernetic components, Aquatech created Section Beta in order to create and more efficent (spelling?) killer - an assassin in the form of young adolescence's. The section's reasoning behind this is that the procedure's used to insert the implants in a young body get better and more stable results than an older person's body.

These young girl's and boy's are then heavily trained in all forms of physical combat as well as firearm's training. In addition they are also medicated to modify their behavior, thus creating a more loyal assassin. However, the level of medication all depends on the assassin's handler -- they are their charge's "guardian" in a way. A handler oversee's training and any other need their charge might want - so they determine how heavy they train and medicate their assassin. Note: This idea was inspired and taken from an anime/manga series called Gunslinger Girl. I had been thinking about it for a while and thought this would be a good oppurtunity to use it.

These individuals know very little about themselves. They are named Wanderers because they either travel to oasis to oasis out of choice, or they are essentially run out by the locals once they are discovered to be a Wanderer, or they are running from a group of Hunter's.

Each Wanderer has some kind of special ability that an individual either doesn't know they have, or they are aware of their ability. Usually, a Wanderer is identified by a special barcode on their body that can be seen only by a blacklight. However, if a Wanderer does not recall their ability and it is somehow triggered by a situation they can be identified in this means as well depending upon the locals (some oasis' can be more open minded about people having "special gifts" than others).


arrow Please observe and follow the Gaia TOS at all times when posting.
arrow Posts should not exceed a PG-13 rating. Any that do, will be reported to a guild moderator and dealt with.
arrow Refrain from controling other characters except your own. NPCs are the exception to the rule.
arrow Do your best to use proper grammar, punctuation, and spelling. Using ALL CAPS is considered shouting so try and keep that to a minimum and sTiCkY cApS is the work of the devil so don't do that all xd .
arrow Godlike powers/abilities/skills will not allowed or tolerated.
arrow Profiles are not necessary, but I will ask that you PM me with your character's abilities/powers if they have any so that I can determine if they are "godly" or not.
arrow If you would like to play a member of the Bastille family, you must PM or contact me as I have specific things in mind for them.

Charlotte knew what she had to do. She had to check the body.

The Wanderer looked down at the corpse before her. A dead body, in the desert, a little ways from the campsite. She noticed a couple of hands waving for her to come closer, as she was in dangerous territoty.

Sadly, it wasn't a rare incident that they found their comrades dead like this. "Why...." Charlotte's tears met with the rough grains in the sand. She forced herself to turn the body over and verify the cause of death.

Just what the tall blonde had feared. The wound marks were clearly in the shape of one of the Hunter's weapons. She sighed and thought about some things as she slowly walked back to camp.

Charlotte probably had the most controversial ability in the group. She was nicknamed 'Char', and could control fire. She was unable to create fire, but if it was nearby she could amplify its power. She could also make any object that was a certain temperature increase in efficiency, as well as increase the dehydration of people. She could also evaporate water. Mysteriously enough, Charlotte didn't need to drink as much water as most people so she was mistrusted and even hated by most other Wanderers.

Damon looked like he could trust her, but she wasn't so sure yet. "Another Wanderer is dead" she said solemenly. "Been dead for days, before we even got here." An awkward silence filled the air and became one with the desert night. Everybody started looking at her like SHE was the murderer.

"Please...stop looking at me like that!" She burst into tears. "Why would I make people die of thirst just because I can? Especially in a desert, isn't that overkill?!" She clenched her fists together and made the camp's fire flare up toward he moon.

She calmed down a bit. "It was Brian, by the way. Brian died. Died of a Hunter's stab wound. Go check it out if y'all want, I don't care." With a huff, she crawled into her tent.

"I guess you can come in" Charlotte answered indecisively, holding on to her sleeping bag for comfort.

She looked at Damon with empty eyes. "All my hope is gone..." she said under her breath, sounding exhausted. "We might as well just let the Hunters kill us all. Let's face it, we're doomed."

She was too disheartened to cry. She just silently closed her eyes and listened to what Damon had to say.

She had eyes the color of the sun, and her spirit and song were kissed by the grace of the Gods. She is the one they have sent to save us, and to us, the waters of life and creation she will deliver.

They were the simple words of the village bard, a man known for keeping close to his hookah and drink. He sang the song often and loud enough at the village commons that people had grown to ignore him. But when the world was turned to sand, that little song resurfaced in the minds of the desperate and the frightened, and soon enough a woman in a drunkard's song became the most sought after find in all of the desert.

To Damon and his band of pirates, this was a treasure they would let no one else acquire, and that is how the raven haired woman known as Indira came to be in the company of the desert caravan. It all happened quickly. Her village was raided when rumors began to spread of a girl with healing and prophetic powers. When it was discovered that Indira's image matched the description of the bard's song, that made her capture even more worth it.

With tanned skin, amber eyes and flowing black hair, the woman was quite beautiful.It is only by Damon's orders that she has not become more than a member of his pirate crew. She keeps most of her face hidden by a dark embroidered scarf,and the rest of her body was hidden away under a tunic and pants of a light material to keep away the sun's harsh rays.

As Damon's prisoner, Indira is constantly surrounded by danger, both natural and man-made, but so far in her many months of riding along with them, she has been kept away from harm. Apparently, the same could not be said about the dead wanderer found in the desert.

Indira waited on her horse while Damon entered the tent to speak to the woman she knew as Charlotte. Names and faces were easy for her to remember, but Indira was never one for conversation. Since her capture, she had yet to get to know any of Damon's crew, and for now she planned to keep it that way. Patiently, she waited outside of the encampent.

Indira had taken her horse to a small basin of water to allow her to drink when she heard the argument between Damon and Charlotte escalate. It seemed they did that quite often.

Maybe if these hunters argued less, they would achieve more.

The harsh memories of her capture replayed in her mind like the endless waves of sand blowing across the desert like a cream colored ocean. The fire, the screams, and the moment she met Damon, were as vivid in her dreams at night as they were in her dreams during the day.

The sound of Charlotte storming out of the tent broke the prisoner's reverie and caused her to look in that general direction. She did not expect to see Charlotte charging towards her with her blonde locks of hair flowing wildly behind her. But the last thing she expected was the slap of Charlotte's hand across her face.

"We captured you for a reason. Ressurect him! What are you good for if all you ever do is stand there looking all mysterious and pretty!"

Indira glared, her hand still covering her sore cheek. The blonde woman gave the prisoner no chance to answer before storming off. In all actuality, what could Indira possibly have done anyways?

And maybe if they chased the facts instead of fiction, they would not continue to suffer so.

Her blood boiling, unable to defend herself, Indira got back on her horse and rode up onto a dune to peer out at the sun blazing in the horizon. Already Damon's guards were approaching to make sure her viewing was not an attempt at escape. She sighed quietly to herself and bowed her head, letting her thoughts trail back to happier times back home.

Indira turned to Damon but said nothing at first. She had to choose her words carefully when speaking to the pirate. After all, if there was any chance she would escape, it would be only from trickery and not brute force.

"I apologize for what Charlotte did. I suspect the slap was somewhat misdirected. We're... not exactly at our best when we lose one of our own, I'm afraid."

"Sure it was."

She dismounted her horse and pet the creature with a loving touch. In all of the craziness that had taken place, the steed had become her only friend.

"How long are you planning on keeping me here? I have a home to go back to, and a village to help rebuild- one that you and your men destroyed."

Handing her horse some snacks from the small purse she had tied on her sash, Indira decided not to wait for an answer.

"I'm not the woman in the prophecy, Damon. She doesn't exist. She is a drunken man's idea and dream, nothing more."

Indira caught sight of the cloud of dust Mur caused when she collapsed on the sand. Without waiting for Damon's response the woman had mounted her horse and bounded off over the dune towards the fallen girl. She could hear Damon yelling something in protest of her action, but what it was, she didn't care to know.

The trail of dust she left behind rose high into the air, surely alerting the others at the camp that something was going on. Indira slowed her horse as she approached the girl and dismounted, falling to her knees at the girl's side and crouching over her. She could tell her leg was injured, but she was too afraid to touch it. Indira poured some water from her canteen onto her headscarf and wiped Mur's face gently, hoping she would come to. Then taking the canteen, she brought it to the girl's lips with a gentle smile.

"Hey...wake up!"

As the water trickled down her throat it felt like ice, her muscles forgot to swallow and she choked on it. But just the feeling woke her up a bit and she opened her eyes.

"Mmrrh" her voice grated and she started crying.

She closed her eyes in shame and swallowed what water was left in her mouth. Even the teares were cool.

After it soaked into her dryed skin she looked up at the woman with amber eyes that seemed to glow in her dehydrated state.

"Thank you" she croaked and started coughing again.

Tears streamed down her sunburnt cheeks. Her pale blue eyes squinted in pain and her sun bleached hair hung past her face, long dreads full of sand. Her pale skin that was streched over a angular face was blotched and peeling. She wore white leather that looked well stitched and expencive, it was practical and attractive.