Under The Dome (Character, MT/FT, Open - OOC)

[Amazonian Beasts]

Civicus Os loves her citizens!

Civicus Os stands as the pinnacle of urban efficiency. A metropolis of 32 million, hundreds of towers span the skyline for miles to see underneath the dome of the city - yes, the blessed dome that keeps the dangerous elements of the outside world at bay. Civicus Os is safety, however - underneath that dome and within this city of steel, no one gets hurt. No one is lost. No one is bored, or forgetful, or risking life and limb in their daily activity.

We'd learn, I'd be.

All your day-to-day activities are handled at your leisure by the Praxeum - the central hub of Civicus Os, where the Hierarchs of Knowledge come together to ensure the safe running and future of the city and its inhabitants. Never fear, good citizens of Civicus Os - follow the words of the Praxeum, and the evils of stress, depression, dementia, and other ills of the body and mind will never cross your path. Every individual of the city is valued, and the Praxeum ensures that truly, no soul is left behind.

Somber run, we're rays.

Such academic concepts as unemployment and capitalism are interesting notes in our school books, are they not? What a waste of efficiency - while in Civicus Os, the pinnacle of effective civilization and our safe beacon in the storm, we are safe under our tight dome of security. Everyone has a task and a job - thus, everyone has a purpose. Everyone is special. By abandoning such juvenile fantasies as religion, idle fantasy, and wasteful leisure, Civicus Os strives to create the perfect, efficient society. Perfect - for you, the citizen.

Civicus Os - For Safe and Secure Society.

Soon, Rip, I Spur This.

* * * * *

Welcome to Civicus Os – the model city of efficient society. With no roads, no pollution, and no dissent, the metropolis is the ideal of a civilization working towards progress. Suffice to say it is the only civilization too – for outside the giant transparent dome that covers the entire city, a colossal, planet-stretching wasteland of death and disease stretches beyond the mind's eye. Torturous winds, oppressive temperatures, radioactive pits, and a destroyed ozone layer make for journeying outside the protective dome of Civicus Os a one-way trip.

But who would need to leave, when you don't want to leave?

The 32 million-person strong citizenry of Civicus Os has never known anything else. Only towers and towers and towers – giant steel towers stretching across the entire cityscape in a massive urban sprawl. Rivers and streams are non-existent; parks and grassy space a mere fantasy, replicated by indoor “flora museums” where citizen can see the generous work of the Civicus Os Praxeum allowing an insight into the world that the citizenry works towards creating one day, when they can purify the outside once more.

Roads do not exist over the entire 400 square miles of city that comprises Civicus Os – all transportation is done by “Skyway” - trains that run through tubes that connect to every single tower that makes up the entire city. It is the only form of transportation in the city to leave any single tower (walking paths do not exist,) running in five different lines – the North Line, South Line, East Line, West Line, and Central Line. The part of the city each covers is self-explanatory.

The only part of the city not covered by giant city towers is the Praxeum – the government body in the dead center of the city, beneath the central area of the dome high above. The Praxeum is a low-lying set of jagged buildings centered around a giant spire that stands as Civicus Os's highest point – holding the unseen government that is also simply known as “The Praxeum.” It provides everything for the city's citizens, and enforces that every work-capable adult has work, whether it be in factory towers, commercial towers, residential towers...for those who do not have work or are not able to work are not efficient. Inefficiency is intolerable in Civicus Os, and must be removed – lest the cancer be allowed to spread, after all.

For every year of their lives, the citizenry of Civicus Os knows but the words of the Praxeum – the ultimate “Safe and Secure Society.” “Inefficiency is Pain,” “Hard Work is Happy Work,” “The Praxeum Cares For You, Citizen!” - these slogans and others stand about the city, drilling the message into the mind of every person under the dome. There is no dissenting opinion, there is no questioning – everyone is happy, everyone is cared for, and everyone is – must be – efficient in the sake of progress.

But the Praxeum cares! It is our glorious benefactor! Thank you, Praxeum!

Recently, however, cryptic messages have been found strewn on walls within “social halls” inside of towers across the city – areas where citizens are allowed to mingle and socialize in the sake of “facilitating psychological efficacy.” These strange codes point towards something occurring within the citizenry of Civicus Os – is it dissent? Is it questioning? Has someone unearthed the mystery of the all-knowing, all-caring Praxeum?

Has someone left the Dome?

But the Praxeum cares! Without the Dome, there would be death and suffering! All bless Civicus Os!

Who would be willing to risk crossing the Praxeum to discover the true message of these illicit, cryptic messages? Who would have the courage to stand up to the only authority they have ever known, an all-powerful, all-seeing eye?

Could you?

* * * * *

I know there's gonna be some questions about the “MT/FT” tag I did, so bear with me.

This is ultimately a mystery and thriller – people defying the omnipresent reach of a dystopian society to unlock a buried and horrifying truth of Civicus Os.

Regarding the citizenry – in their minds, all they have ever known is living in the city, underneath the great clear dome that covers it. There is no open space – simply towers and the Skyway tubes, and the Praxeum at the center. Babies are grown in labs and “donated” to Praxeum-paired couples of one man and one woman, who are “allowed” to care for one daughter and one son with the helpful guidance of a Praxeum “family overseer”...and this “allowance” is not optional.

Technology is roughly MT, with a few advances for the citizenry – but nothing major. “Commercial sectors” that are actually run by the Praxeum “grant” “consumer goods” to citizens in exchange for their work – naturally, things that are leisure-related are prohibited, as are all non-sanctioned books. Civicus Os and the Praxeum run on a mandate of “efficiency” - that which is not efficient defies this mandate, and thus must be eliminated “for the benefit of the majority.” This secretly includes a wide number of things...including anyone above the age of 50, anyone developing a health defect or problem, anyone suspected of “subverting the benefits of the Praxeum,” etc.

Every citizen or “family group” lives within a small apartment-sized area within a tower – tower locations are randomly given out via simple random selection in order to disperse demographic characteristics. Concepts such as religion are viewed as “subversive” and are stamped out – and while no individual knows it, the Praxeum is truly – and frighteningly – everywhere.

At least, the last part is true – some individuals now do know it.

Cryptic messages – such as the ones in the opener here (ie, Soon, Rip, I Spur This) have begun showing up, and are quickly eliminated and erased by Praxeum members. However, they have been unsettling...and now, the courageous and the brave of Civicus Os will see what there is to see behind these words.

Will you be one of them? Or will you follow what you have been told – for safety and security?

* * * * *

This is ultimately a character thread except for a select couple (for ulterior motives that I can not yet release,) and is trying to draw somewhat of a balance between The Island and 1984, as you can see by the dystopian theme. There is subtle differences that shall be revealed as you go along...but opening more and more of the story is ultimately up to you and your characters. Likewise, slip up in-character and IC consequences will rain down. You must be mindful of your actions – just as the real people of Civicus Os must be.

As in all of my character/story-focused threads (my Dark Harvest series in FT is going around...) I allow for one or two characters per person – and this time, due to me directive of the Praxeum mandating “family groups,” I'm also okay with people playing as one such “group” if they want – comprised of a man, woman, son, and daughter. Your choice how they want to be.

Keep in mind a few things:

A) Your characters, besides the occasional mental flashback/blip/dream/nightmare, will only have known of life in Civicus Os – under the dome. That's all their memory has stored, all they've known (apart from said dreams/flashbacks...) Men and women both have work/jobs (whee efficiency!) and children go to Praxeum-run “education centers,” where they learn Praxeum-approved courses. Yay. And yea, nobody's above age 50, unless they're dead. Oh sorry, they're “rehabilitated to efficiency.”

B) Outside the dome is a literal wasteland, and leaving a tower is pretty much death – the space between the towers in the city serve as channels for food nutrients, water, and a lot of other things – and trying to leave a tower and enter them warrants either a quick death from the Praxeum or a quick death from entering a channel, given some of the things in them.

C) The cryptic messages will eventually be revealed. Have patience, lol.

As I always say, take pride in your characters – they are yours, after all, and your utility in accessing a complicated and thorough storyline. A shallow character (or characters) leads to shallowness, while character(s) made with thought and care help you to engage, and make the story better. Everyone wins!

One final thing with the characters...as this is somewhat close to a written MMORPG in scale (call that weird if you want,) a dead character does not mean GAME OVER for you. There will be certain "save points" scattered about...not blatant, nor written in, but if you die, I'll let you know how/where to jump back in. After all, everyone's gonna make some mistakes on the way to finding the truth...hopefully you learn from them, lol. ~Credit to Storm Gard for this awesome idea.

And for the MT/FT tag...I need one or two people who can fill the role of their FT nations in this. Your part will be a bit more complicated...and I can't reveal it in public here, since it's vital to the script. Suffice to say, while I'm usually very open to accepting people of all experience levels, I can only except sufficiently experienced RPers for these two roles.

And before we begin, here's a quick character template if you want to use it to make your character – treat it as a suggestion, not a rule. Also, for “profession/job...” not to be a downer, but I can't let anyone be actually working for the Praxeum. That's a vital part of the storyline and the mystery. If you want to clarify a profession, hit me up – I'm open.

Name:
Gender:
Age (Under 50):
Height/Weight:
Eye Color:
Hair Color:
Short Physical Description:
Profession/Job:
Short Bio:

[Tiurabo]

((OOC NOTE: This is not a regular player character. I am here as one of AB's little helpers, and it's my characters' job to make sure your characters never feel safe and happy during their life in the city. Mostly this guy is going to be an NPC, only seen on screens and such. If you run into him IC, you are fucked.))

Name: Adawulf Rex.
Gender: Male.
Age (Under 50): 29.
Height/Weight: 6'8", 230 lbs.
Eye Color: Blue.
Hair Color: Black.
Profession/Job: The Protector.

Short Physical Description: There is something... off... about Rex. Anyone who sees him or hears him speak would notice, at least subconsciously, that there is something not quite right about him. His accent is bizarre and foreign to the ears of the citizenry, as are his looks; he is at once taller and beefier than anyone else in the city ever thought about being. Aside from those most obvious oddities, no one is quite able to put their finger on what it was that set him apart; he is just different. Still, it is not quite so strange as all that; anyone serving in the ERA seems to be of the same breed, so they have to come from somewhere in the city.

Short Bio: Like his predecessor, who disappeared with notice at the age of fifty, the origins of Protector Rex are unknown to the general populace. No one can recall meeting him before he rose to his station, though many speak fatuously of knowing him well after the fact. Questions about his origin, family, or previous employment are never voiced publicly. He is simply the Protector, head of the Efficiency Regulation Agency, and anyone speaking out against him gets a speedy visit from the Regulators; if the offense was public enough, the individual is sent away for "efficiency rehabilitation".

[Storm Gard]

The Child

Will you come play with me?

That was question she asked me when I found her. Dressed in a long ragged red dress that stopped short of her pale bare feet her two gray eyes stared questioningly at me from under a veil of white hair, crudely hacked to jaw length without much care or attention. We played for hours that day, simple children games that brought her endless joy and filled the air with peals of attractive laughter. As night came I left to return to my family despite her whines and protests, promising to return tomorrow expecting to never see her again.

She was standing in front of my house the next day, a bright red ball in her small hands flecked with unidentified red matter, a joyous smile on her face. I missed my first day of work in twenty years that day. Day after day she came her hands becoming increasingly flecked with an unknown red matter, as she asked me to play with her, which I unfailingly did every time she asked despite the growing pains in my body.

Seven days after our meeting I became bedridden from the pain and didn't meet her. However, she appeared in front of me late in the evening that day her entire body drenched in rivulets of crimson as if someone poured paint all over her, holding a bowl filled with what appeared to be soup.

"I heard you were sick mister...I brought you some soup. Its made from kidney."

"Thanks, you are a sweet girl." I rasped, sharp pain engulfing my lower back as I sat up and took a sip from the offered spoon.

The soup was delicious and the kidney was phenomenal. Draining the soup in greedy gulps, I laid back onto my bed which was curiously stained in the same crimson that flecked the girl's hands. Closing my eyes I fell asleep, with a distinct feeling that I was missing something thoroughly vital, although for the life of me I couldn't figure out what.

That soup was really magnificent, I wonder if the girl will bring more tomorrow.

The Gardener

This meadow, I saw it when I was a child; and my father's father saw it when he was a child; and his father's father's father saw it when he was a child. It's a place that sidesteps the gaze of not-children, hidden between the crags of rock.

There, in the neverdying meadow, there is a little old man, bent at the waist, who waters his flowers. The flowers riot in colors, iridescent and gleaming in the water, and they draw the children close. And if you speak to him, the little old man will smile at you, and give you a flower.

These flowers do not die, you see. You can take them home, and set them on the mantle without water; their roots will spread and sink into the stone, or the metal, or concrete. They are flowers that will not die.

And when they blossom, their roots firmly set, they open the bud and a wonderful scent comes out, like rosemary and myrrh and frankincense, like a new prophet being born. And this smell, it calls to you, your neighbors, everyone. They come and stand before this little flower, of red or blue or yellow, bright and iridescent.

And then in a couple days, the flower dies, and the child is no longer a child; the innocence stolen away by this lesson of life and death the flower teaches. It is a ritual of learning in the village; and when we are ready to die, the elderly worn and weak, we make this trek up the mountain, to the little old man and his flowers, and they are seen no more. Into the crags and the scent of rosemary, they vanish like pollen.

We here in the village, we live by the Gardener. He teaches us to grow, prunes us in our age. He is the Gardener and we are all his flowers.

He has no shears, just fingers as old as the earth and a weary, ancient patience. The flowers never die, they just pass on their seeds. And he tends them over and over, or so I supppose: I've only seen the Gardener once, after all.

But soon I'll go to see this meadow again, because my bones ache and it's hard to stand, so hard. And I want to go to the garden and lay down, and kiss the flowers, and give up my seeds.

I'll go to see that meadow again, where there's a quiet smile, and a little old man, and a garden of flowers that never die.

At least until we touch them.

[Amazonian Beasts]

Yea, to clarify for new guys/interested parties - Storm and Tiurabo are in on the "leadership" of the RP, so to speak.

This is very much an open-world RP (unlike some of my more linear-designed ones) so there's a lot potentially going on or occurring in numerous stages.

[New Korean Union]

Name: Cashius Maroney
Gender: Male
Age (Under 50): 48
Height/Weight: 6'3", 201LBS
Eye Color: Hazel
Hair Color: Black
Short Physical Description:

Profession/Job: Owns a clothing shop
Short Bio: (not really a bio) Cashius, now just two years away from his 50th birthday ponders what will become of him once he is taken away. Having lived under the dome for 48 long, arguous years, the thought of loosing all of his progress haunts him deep down inside. With no family, he knows not what will become of his shop, or anything relating to him. Cashius has brief thoughts of any way he can weasel his way out of his current situation, and possibly find loophole by the time he turns 50.

[Amazonian Beasts]

Looks good, NKU.

I'll throw up a player list when some more sign up.

[Alahastra]

Tagged, will edit this post to be my application, but I have a few questions to ask you, Beast. So I'll chat with you on IRC.

[Carribean Union]

This is NKU on my new nation, so my application as Cashius is still standing.

[Amazonian Beasts]

B-bump.

[Saragrossa]

Ooc: is it possible to rp as enforcers or local police? Or the graffati artisans?

[Abruzi]

Name: Andrew Smith
Gender: Male
Age (Under 50): 16 (gogogo State Schools)
Height/Weight: 5'11, 150 lbs
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Brown
Short Physical Description: (Moar will be in the Bio)
A slightly lanky (some might say gumpy) youth, Andrew is rather athletic. Of average strength and speed. Wears glorious Praxeum approved cloathing. Picture shall come later.
Profession/Job: Student
Short Bio:

Andrew has long forgot his Praxeum-paired "parents", they after all weren't worthy of his love or even his memory. No, only the great Praxeum, the glorious provider who gave him life, food, shelter, clothes to wear, and education was worthy of love. The only thing he remembered about the "parents" he left behind was that they still lived with him, or somewhere near him...it didn't matter.

His tower apartment was near the education centers he was assigned and thankfully his walk took him almost within two miles of the Praxeum. Being this close to the glorious provides was the highlight of his day, second only at times to history where he learned of the superiority of Civicus Os over the heathen, inefficent societys of the past. Priding himself on his knowledge of the various Slogans and Figures needed to show the unquestionable superiority of the Os (as the kids called it) over all other examples. Did the Os not outlast all other societies? Did the Os not provide everyone with a job, food and most importantly a purpose?

Suprisingly Andrew had few if any friends. Being first in his class also meant he had to regularly lecture his fellow children on the merits of the Paxeum and the Os, being told to also hunt for subversives and slackers he constantly monitored everyone but his sole friend (and hopefully Woman) Gloria. Gloria was a pale pretty youth, her skin was soft and her fair blond hair was the most beautiful thing in the Os to Andrew, sometimes he thought that he loved her more than the Praxeum. Her free mind however was a thing he resented at times but occasionally he secretly wished he too could have a self, before the walls slammed down and he reverted to muttering slogans to purge his head of such dangerous thought.Still, she was herself in a world where everyone was everyone else and this was strangely erotic and attractive. For some reason her political insanity had evaded detection until now.

Gloria had gone missing about a week ago and Andrew was worried that she had finally been kicked out of the Os for her obviously treasonous behavior. For several days he was unusually nasty to most of his charges but yesterday (w/e IC timeline starts) he discovered a notebook with a single message in it in his room in the tower, it read,

"Still here."

What did it mean? What did it mean?

OOC: Beast, soon-ish I want to ask if it's cool that my Bio has this message bit. If not I'll think of something else and Gloria will prolly become another character that will go about questioning. Will reveal my plans for Andrew on IRC or Cong thread or TG later.

[Amazonian Beasts]

Saragrossa, if you want to RP as a dude leaving messages, go for it, by all means. Can't RP as the Praxeum though; I need them to remain shrouded for the time being.

I'm gonna wait for some more interest but here's a promise that it'll be up by this time next week regardless - sooner if more interest shows up.

Bruz, thas' cool.

[Tiurabo]

Just as a clarification, Saragrossa, and anyone else who didn't get it, I'm the local police and enforcers. As Beast already said, Storm and I are not regular players, more like independent contractors he brought in to torture you mere players.

[Abruzi]

Just as a clarification, Saragrossa, and anyone else who didn't get it, I'm the local police and enforcers. As Beast already said, Storm and I are not regular players, more like independent contractors he brought in to torture you mere players.

Pfffft Tiu you're like the least scary poster ever, Storm though....

[Amazonian Beasts]

B-Bump. For great justice.

Move zig.