- Invitation Status
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per day
- One post per day
- 1-3 posts per week
- Online Availability
- Whenever I'm not working. Work schedule depends on the week and season. More active at night.
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Primarily Prefer Female
- Genres
- Fantasy, Scifi, Modern, Magical, Romance, Supernatural, Fandom, Modern Fantasy, Dystopian, Some Anime's, Mature
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"I feel the sun on my face, I see trees all around me. The scent of wildflowers in the breeze. It's so beautiful. In this moment, I'm not stranded in space.
It's been in 97 years since a nuclear Apocalypse killed everyone on earth, leaving the planet simmering in radiation. Fortunately, there were survivors. 12 nations had operational pace stations at the time of the bombs. There is now only the Ark, one station forged from the many.
We're told the earth needs another 100 years to become survivable again. 4 more space-locked generations, and man can go home. Back to the ground.
The Ground- that's the dream. This is reality..."
Any crime committed on the Ark is punishable by death (or, as they call it, 'Floating') unless the offender is under the age of eighteen. In the case of a minor committing a crime, they are put in the prison ward of the Ark, and kept there until they turn 18. Upon their 18th birthday each minor is given a hearing, where their final fate shall be decided.
Except, things are changing. The council has voted for a new protocol- one that will be kept a secret from civilians until it is completely necessary to share new found information with them. The council has decided to send the most disposable people on the Ark, the delinquent prisoners, down to Earth in a drop-ship. Their mission is to determine whether the planet is survivable again. The drop-ship is set to land at a very specific destination, where supplies had recently been dropped down. The council has determined that there should be enough supplies to last the children until the rest of the ark is able to follow. The communication devices implanted in each wristband put on each prisoner was the only way to communicate from the ground to the Ark. Unfortunately, they malfunctioned once entered the atmosphere, and now the only way the Ark will know that the Earth is survivable is by watching each person's health through the data transmitted via wristband.
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You can either choose to be one of the 100, or a grounder (a grounder is one a human who has been living on thsi ground the whole time... they are not very advanced in their technology, and can speak English among many other languages). The people back on the ark will NPC's, played by myself, and my Co-GM @Justice_20
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The Council-- Chancellor Isarah
- Shiloh Candid- Doctor
- Marcus Stahlin - Monitors feed from wristbands
- Katarine Tori -2nd in command
- Chanel Fahly -Important Engineer
- Ginn Grey- Head officer.
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Because our location is different than that in the show, it would make sense that the grounders are different as well. This tab is mostly for those playing grounders, but all may read if they so please. Here is everything you will need to know:Beliefs:[spoili] The Consumers (those who lived prior to the nuclear bombs) practiced a dark sorcery beginning with the smelting of metal (i.e., making of things that do not grow by consuming more energy than the Sun and Life provides naturally), then began to "drink the blood of the Earth" and ravage her biosphere. When they had ravenously gobbled all they could, they fought each other over what little was left. It is said that the Consumers heralded as their greatest triumph, that they could launch themselves into the starry void riding great fiery spears, and live entirely by their dark magic, without being interdependent with the rest of the community of Life. When they threatened to destroy all in their greed and savagery, the Earth-goddess Gya said, 'You say that you can destroy all life and yet live? Therefore, you are expelled from My embrace and the Tribes of the Living! So that women and men will never again follow in your path, behold, I shall grant you your desire: you shall live within the lifeless cages of your own making! Never more shall you grow endlessly in numbers and wealth; you would not live within the limits of My bounty; therefore, you shall live within the limits of the Void-prison you have fashioned for yourselves. Never shall you know the joy of a sunny day, never shall you run or dance without walls! You who would be rich without limit, shall now be poor without limit! Your prison shall cross the sky forever as a rootless and wandering star, forever traveling but never reaching Home, for neither Earth nor Void nor Stars will have you. And women and men shall look upon your prison as it crosses the sky in its endless and never-satisfied seeking, and they will know not to follow your path of abomination. So shall it be for all days!"
Overview:[spoili]Though they are primitive in some ways (no use of metal or other artificial materials such as plastics, etc.) they have a very sophisticated understanding of ecology, biology, Permaculture, biomimetics, selective breeding, and other "earth sciences." They can use natural hallucinogens like ayahuasca and magic mushrooms for illumination, ritual, community bonding, and spirituality (no actual "paranormal powers").
They are not vicious savages, but they will respond with ferocity toward the 100 because from their point of view the Consumers/Insatiables (what they call the people of the prior technological civilization and the survivors who remain in the Prison of the Insatiables, a.k.a. the Ark) destroyed the world, and are thus the enemies of all life.
The Grounders are very close-knit and communal among their own kind, and peaceful toward other tribes whenever possible. War almost destroyed all life, so they view it as an abomination. The big exception to their peaceful demeanor would be anyone who visibly uses the technology of the Consumers beyond the simplest forms of salvage and repurposing (i.e., tearing apart an electric motor to make copper necklaces from the wire: suspicious but tolerable; trying to make the motor run again: desist, or we fight). Robots, drones, or any other self-powered machinery is also considered anathema, and subject to attack at the earliest strategically and tactically sound convenience.
They do train and practice for war. In part, to provide release for humans' natural inclinations toward violence, in part to be ready should any Consumers escape the Prison of the Consumers (that's basically the sort of thing they scare their children with: "If you don't stop being bad, the Consumers will come and EAT you!"), and in part for the purpose of hunting, or any remaining War Machines etc. show up.[/spoili]
As a result, it is forbidden to use fire, smelt metal, etc. (though they have other ways of making strong materials, such as blades crafted from silk thread and resin, a composite material similar in strength and lightness to carbon fiber), but they are free to develop "technologies" modeled after life and ecological principles. Another reason they have for refusing to use fire is to remain hidden from the hungry eyes of the Consumers banished to the sky (the Ark) and any remaining drone aircraft from the War that might exist (if only in myth and superstition). This explains why the Ark has not detected them by their campfires, hence why the Council doesn't already know that Earth is habitable.[/spoili]
The 100-
Prisoners are being taken from their cells and escorted to the drop-ship in large groups. Once they reach the drop ship it is their own responsibility to find a seat and strap themselves in before the launch. Things are pretty hectic, considering no one knows what happening exactly.
(Please, if you are one of the 100 try to get your character into the drop-ship and strapped in within your first or second post, as we do not want to draw this part out for too long.)
Grounders-
As usual, the ground is warm (83 degrees Fahrenheit) and very humid. The ground is especially wet today, because it had rained long and hard the night before. The air is fresh, and the wildlife has come back out to play after the downpour. Everything is going to seem normal, until the Drop-Ship lands. At that time, the leader (Esme- @Zarko Straadi ) will send out a small group to scout the mysterious ship and the people within out.
Tagging: @Justice_20 , @slaine72 ,@Dramma , @*~Nightjade~* , @Freyalise , @Enderdeman , @Lunar❖Franco , @Akashi , @Zarko Straadi , @Koda , @Lucian , @BluEs .
Click here to reference Clary.
The moment Clarissa's door opened she knew something was horribly wrong. "It's not trial day already, is it?" She asked, unable to keep the horror out of her voice. It had been years since her door had ever been opened, and if she didn't know any better she would have thought it was sealed shut forever. Even her meals were slid through a compartment for her... it hadn't taken her long to realize this was because they were scared of her murdering them too.
Her question remained unanswered as she was approached by two large peacekeepers, extra buff. "What's going on?" She demanded, but the only response she got was the sudden grip on her forearm and then a sting on her wrist. "Ouch," she muttered, snapping her arm from the peacekeepers grip and examining the device he had placed on her. She could feel in in her flesh, against her bone, and already decided she didn't like it. "What the hell is this?" She asked, angry now.
"You're leaving," one of the males finally said, and she couldn't help but think that it was so nice to hear someone's voice again. When she was sentenced to solitary confinement all those years ago, the court really meant solitary. For a moment, she considered her options. Go with them and get some human interaction, or resist and probably end up having to go anyways, after they've already caused her harm.
She made the obvious choice.
Already, the hallways were flooded with people. She brushed her brown hair out of her eyes, studying each face. There weren't any she recognized, but this was expected. She doubted any of her friends would be dumb enough to get themselves locked up too, and even if they were she was sure that their faces would have changed over the years. It dawned on her then: What do I even look like? Her room did not have a mirror, and so she wasn't even sure. Her hair was in a small braid with her bangs free, as she usually had it. As they passed by the window she caught sight of her reflection. She almost didn't recognize herself, but was pleased with the face she grew into. Puberty had done her well, if she did say so herself
It wasn't until she was shoved into a spacecraft that she was informed of what was going on: They were heading to the ground. In all truth, Clary wasn't so sure she believed them, but she obediently found a seat nonetheless. Any place is better than that damn cell, she thought.
Click here to reference Rhea.
Everything was business as usual. The butchers were already laying out their fresh meat, advertising it to other villagers. Children ran around and played, while gradually making their way to their morning teaching session. Females sought out certain items in the market, males gathered around to tell stories they had all heard a thousand times.
The familiarity of the morning caused a smile to stretch across Rhea's face. She had grown accustomed to the peaceful chaos that her village always seemed to settle in. It was almost like everyone was in everyone's way, while being in no ones way at the same time. She laughed lightly as a little boy ran into her legs, and then continued on his way.
Rhea's whole purpose in life was to make sure that her people were happy. So, mornings like this always set her up in a good mood for the day. Of course, they weren't really her people to take are of until Esme died, but she still thought of them as her own.
She was actually making her way to look for Esme, to see if she needed help with anything. Somehow, Rhea's schedule was clear for the day, and she hated to just sit around when there was work to be done. Even if Esme didn't need any help, Rhea knew she would find somewhere else to make herself useful. She always did.
"Good morning," she said to a few hunters as she passed them, smiling kindly. Her long brown hair cascaded over her shoulders, shining in the hot sunlight. Today, she wore her shorter and thinner hides, because it was far to heavy for anything else. Perhaps it is time I purchase new articles of clothing, she thought, running her hand over the smooth hide her skirt was made of.
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