C
CosmicWeinerDog
Guest
Original poster
(special thanks to Ozzie, Jinx, Coffee and everyone else that helped me come up with this convoluted idea)
"Long ago when the universe was young and the primordial juices of existence floated aimlessly in the void of space; the all-knowing architects of all things banded together to design the fabrics of reality. Before the final blow was stricken on the anvil of the cosmos the great makers of all things decided in their infinite wisdom tha-"
"NO NO NO, THAT'S NOT HOW IT GOES. YOU'RE MESSING UP THE STORY." The booming voice echoed out seemingly across dimensions, carrying the flashes of thunder on quaking breath.
"Alright this is ridiculous," The narrator signed putting his hands through his non-existent hair. "you told me you would let me introduce the fucking story. You swore on your mother's grave."
"DUH. ALL POWERFUL CREATOR OF ALL THINGS HERE. I DON'T HAVE A MOTHER DUDE. YOU JUST GOT PLAYED."
"Oh for the love of… Look, I don't care. Are you going to let me introduce this or do you want to take over?"
"DON'T MIND IF I DO!" The voice boomed out with thunderous roar. "LET'S SEE HERE NOW…"
The stars themselves trembled as the sounds a thousand voices cleared their throats.
"A LONG TIME AGO IN A GALAXY FAR FAR AWAY…" The quaking voice this time was backed by the overwhelming fanfare of horns as they rang out from the stars.
"Hoooooold up hold up, you can't do that." The narrator interjected abruptly, stopping the fanfare on an off note whine. "We'll get sued for copyright infringement if you do that and I'm the only one here with a PO Box."
"THAT SOUNDS LIKE A PERSONAL PROBLEM."
"You're right! It is a personal problem! It's MY personal problem." The Narrator could feel his anger rising and knew he would need to check his blood pressure if this conversation were to continue. "Listen, you told me you'd allow me to set up this storyline and damnit I'm not going to let you interrupt me."
"OOH YOU WILL EH? PLEASE DO ENLIGHTEN ME, WHAT EXACTLY ARE YOU GOING TO DO TO STOP ME EH?"
"Well I wasn't going to do this because I figured you'd be civil but maybe I should enlighten the world on where the platypus came from if you're going to continue being so temperamental."
"…" The cosmos were silent for an instant, a brief moment in time where a pin could be heard from across the void of space.
"Well?" The Narrator crossed his arms and waited for the all mighty to formulate a response.
"…YOU'RE A DICK."
"Likewise… Ahem. So then, as I was saying…
Before the multiverse was stricken into existence, the architects of all things placed into being a series of keys designed to be used in the instance that the planes were broken by a malevolent power. In order to retcon the fabric of time, the architects agreed that such a power was too much to be giving to one entity. Even amongst Gods, the makers considered that if anyone should have the right to remake all that is, it should be the mortals residing in their respective reality.
Or at least that's what I'm being told to say, in reality the buggers just got shitfaced one night and lost the damn things. They haven't been able to find them since and their too lazy to retrace their ste-"
"SHUT YOUR FACE, YOU SAID YOU'D LEAVE THAT PART OUT." The planes boomed more loudly this time, trembling with the mighty rage of a million suns.
"Ugh… fine. Anywho, the Gods of all things created safeties that needed to be bypassed in wake of a needed Retcon… "
"GET ON WITH IT!"
"Fiiiiiiiiiine…" The Narrator took a deep breath as he skipped a few lines. "The year is 1999. William Clinton is president, Full house is still on ABC and Michael Jordan was recently abducted by Loony Tunes. The Macarena was a thing and Ricky Martin hadn't come out yet. In the dawn of the new world an impending crises loomed over the fields of eternity. A problem so menacing, so powerful, and so potentially dangerous… the makers themselves quivered in its wake."
Its plane of existence: The information Super highway.
It's title: Y2K
In a lapse of judgment, the makers of all things had used an outdated operating system to program existence during the initial stages of creation."
"I TOLD THEM THEY SHOULD SWITCH OVER TO LINUX, BUT STUPID FATHER TIME SAID WINDOWS 3.1 WAS THE –IN- THING TO USE. YOU EVER TRY SPAWNING PRIMORDIAL LIFE FROM 512 MEGS OF RAM? YOU GET ONE CORRUPTED LINE OF CODE AND YOU'RE STUCK WITH FLYING BUMBLE BEES JACKING WITH MY LAWS OF PHYSICS."
"Right right. In fear of the potential crisis, the gods communed together to decide the fate of the universe. In their infinite wisdom, the makers decided that it was time to test their retcon fail safe. To cast the dice of fate onto the tables of the cosmos and pray for a 20.
Somewhere along the way, Father Time brought along the vodka and mountain dew as a gift of good will. As a result... well... You'll figure it out.
The Dice… has been cast!
The Crew… chosen.
But the champions originally intended to usher in a new reality onto the face of the planes might be slightly different than what was originally intended…"
"GAME ON BITCHES!"
"NO NO NO, THAT'S NOT HOW IT GOES. YOU'RE MESSING UP THE STORY." The booming voice echoed out seemingly across dimensions, carrying the flashes of thunder on quaking breath.
"Alright this is ridiculous," The narrator signed putting his hands through his non-existent hair. "you told me you would let me introduce the fucking story. You swore on your mother's grave."
"DUH. ALL POWERFUL CREATOR OF ALL THINGS HERE. I DON'T HAVE A MOTHER DUDE. YOU JUST GOT PLAYED."
"Oh for the love of… Look, I don't care. Are you going to let me introduce this or do you want to take over?"
"DON'T MIND IF I DO!" The voice boomed out with thunderous roar. "LET'S SEE HERE NOW…"
The stars themselves trembled as the sounds a thousand voices cleared their throats.
"A LONG TIME AGO IN A GALAXY FAR FAR AWAY…" The quaking voice this time was backed by the overwhelming fanfare of horns as they rang out from the stars.
"Hoooooold up hold up, you can't do that." The narrator interjected abruptly, stopping the fanfare on an off note whine. "We'll get sued for copyright infringement if you do that and I'm the only one here with a PO Box."
"THAT SOUNDS LIKE A PERSONAL PROBLEM."
"You're right! It is a personal problem! It's MY personal problem." The Narrator could feel his anger rising and knew he would need to check his blood pressure if this conversation were to continue. "Listen, you told me you'd allow me to set up this storyline and damnit I'm not going to let you interrupt me."
"OOH YOU WILL EH? PLEASE DO ENLIGHTEN ME, WHAT EXACTLY ARE YOU GOING TO DO TO STOP ME EH?"
"Well I wasn't going to do this because I figured you'd be civil but maybe I should enlighten the world on where the platypus came from if you're going to continue being so temperamental."
"…" The cosmos were silent for an instant, a brief moment in time where a pin could be heard from across the void of space.
"Well?" The Narrator crossed his arms and waited for the all mighty to formulate a response.
"…YOU'RE A DICK."
"Likewise… Ahem. So then, as I was saying…
Before the multiverse was stricken into existence, the architects of all things placed into being a series of keys designed to be used in the instance that the planes were broken by a malevolent power. In order to retcon the fabric of time, the architects agreed that such a power was too much to be giving to one entity. Even amongst Gods, the makers considered that if anyone should have the right to remake all that is, it should be the mortals residing in their respective reality.
Or at least that's what I'm being told to say, in reality the buggers just got shitfaced one night and lost the damn things. They haven't been able to find them since and their too lazy to retrace their ste-"
"SHUT YOUR FACE, YOU SAID YOU'D LEAVE THAT PART OUT." The planes boomed more loudly this time, trembling with the mighty rage of a million suns.
"Ugh… fine. Anywho, the Gods of all things created safeties that needed to be bypassed in wake of a needed Retcon… "
"GET ON WITH IT!"
"Fiiiiiiiiiine…" The Narrator took a deep breath as he skipped a few lines. "The year is 1999. William Clinton is president, Full house is still on ABC and Michael Jordan was recently abducted by Loony Tunes. The Macarena was a thing and Ricky Martin hadn't come out yet. In the dawn of the new world an impending crises loomed over the fields of eternity. A problem so menacing, so powerful, and so potentially dangerous… the makers themselves quivered in its wake."
Its plane of existence: The information Super highway.
It's title: Y2K
In a lapse of judgment, the makers of all things had used an outdated operating system to program existence during the initial stages of creation."
"I TOLD THEM THEY SHOULD SWITCH OVER TO LINUX, BUT STUPID FATHER TIME SAID WINDOWS 3.1 WAS THE –IN- THING TO USE. YOU EVER TRY SPAWNING PRIMORDIAL LIFE FROM 512 MEGS OF RAM? YOU GET ONE CORRUPTED LINE OF CODE AND YOU'RE STUCK WITH FLYING BUMBLE BEES JACKING WITH MY LAWS OF PHYSICS."
"Right right. In fear of the potential crisis, the gods communed together to decide the fate of the universe. In their infinite wisdom, the makers decided that it was time to test their retcon fail safe. To cast the dice of fate onto the tables of the cosmos and pray for a 20.
Somewhere along the way, Father Time brought along the vodka and mountain dew as a gift of good will. As a result... well... You'll figure it out.
The Dice… has been cast!
The Crew… chosen.
But the champions originally intended to usher in a new reality onto the face of the planes might be slightly different than what was originally intended…"
"GAME ON BITCHES!"
If you haven't guessed, this game has nothing to do with Ella Fitzgerald! Or the Blues! Or Continuity! This is a game that takes place over the span of several dimentions, generas and rule settings. In the error of the all powerful makers of existence, they ended up being a bit more liberal with their selection than they originally intended. Characters should be over the top, rediculous and a healthy heap of silly. I'm especially looking for characters that embody the character cliches from anime, mystery, 90s action movies, high fantasy, sci fi, noir and the like. Characters should be played up, be totally inappropriate to be a savior of existence and occasionally break the 4th wall when tasteful.
Some things to keep in mind!
[SPOILI]• Abide the rules of Iwaku
• In spite of the fact that this storyline is very random, it does indeed fall into a genre! As such if you try and God mod or operate outside of the kooky storyline I have in store, I will feed you to sentient cucumbers. The genre is loosely defined, but it is very much there. Keep it in mind.
•Collaborative Storytelling means we are all telling a story. I want a lot of OOC talking in this and I want it in for the long haul. This idea has the potential to be hilarious, but it also has the potential to fall apart just from being -too- wacky. I absolutely recommend things that play fun at cliches and terrible story lines. Think of it as a way to get out pent up aggression on years of sub par plot.
• I hold the final say on character sheets, but feel free to try and convince me otherwise if you think it'd work well. I will PM everyone who submits and give them a go or submit minor tweaks. The things I don't want is players that are overpowered on their own. At the beginning of the game, each character will be assigned a "Weapon" by the makers that was specifically not designed for them and seems completely unfitting for their personality. Feel free to use character inginuity to get around problems, but I don't want Dr Manhattan vaporizing baddies here. Dig?
• I reserve the right to pitch situations and plot devices at your character, but I will always check with you before anything major happens. You will not die in this campaign unless it's especially comical.
• I expect at least one post a week, barring severe circumstances. If you cannot make that commitment, this roleplay is not for you. If there is more than a week or so of no posting and we need to move the plot, I may take control of that character till you return. Should you drop out entirely, let me know please.
• Any questions? PM me. I'm pretty awesome.
• I highly encourage the breaking of the 4th wall, but if it is not in good taste I will beat you with your own femur. [/SPOILI]
Character sheets are as follows:
[SPOILI]Name: What do people call you on your world?
Race: Are you a human? A Centaur? A robot? A disembodied suit of armor that is possessed by the soul of Frank Sinatra? Surprise me, just no Gods or superpowered forces of nature
World: Give me a description of the world you are from, what timeline you represent and what cliché you're playing off of. Each world has one of the keys needed to retcon the plotline, when it's your time to shine you will be the guiding force navigating the party through your strange world!
Appearance: What you look like.
Equipment: Anything you happened to have had in your pockets when you were transported from your world. You can't happen to have a conveniently placed necronomicon or something of the sort in your trousers. (Stop thinking pervy thoughts you!)
Employment/Lifestyle: What is your character's job in your world? Give me an overview of the average day in your realm.
"Weapon" granted by the cosmos: This is the tool you will use the fend off the cosmic forces of darkness scattered across the realms. It MUST be something that your character would normally never have or want. It doesn't have to be a traditional weapon. In fact, I applaud anyone who uses something like a broom or a bar stool. I won't turn down actual weapons though. Keep in mind it was designed for someone that was not you. The aim of the makers was off and you probably shouldn't be saving existence. Hell you probably shouldn't be trusted with anything more dangerous than string.[/SPOILI]
I will cap off entry at about 9-ish or so people.
