A struggle - a mugging, one man trying to relieve a young boy of his belongings. Rather than help, people cross to the other side of the street, passing by, feigning ignorance of incredible magnitude - after all, to fail to notice a mugging requires a lack of working eyes, ears, and frontal lobes.
Amidst the constant stream of passers-by, one woman stands still, watching. She can't help, not yet; she has no real use until someone gets hurt, which means that she has to wait for the worst possible scenario to carry out before she can do anything.
The year is 2020, and these are the streets of New York. The worst possible scenario always plays out.
The mugger produces a small knife, and only then does the boy stop resisting, helpless to watch as the blade thrusts into his stomach. His belongings already out of his hands, the mugger already starting to flee before the boy hits the ground. His vision blurs - the pain is incredible. A woman appears at his side, others just pass him by. She places her hands on his stomach, the pain flares, as if he has been stabbed again. He hears the sound of metal hitting the pavement, the knife removed, and pain receding as she keeps her hands over the wound. Even with his tunnel vision, he can see her hands are...glowing?
The healer breaths a sigh of relief - the boy may have lost his phone and wallet, but at least he'd live. Her job was done, she turned from the boy...
To witness a tire-iron swinging suspiciously closer towards her face.
A sickening crunch, the healer recoiling, blood pouring from her nose.
"You think we need your help, freak? You think any of us wouldn't rather die, than be touched by you?"
Another blow struck her round the back of the head, another assailant. These people hadn't been waiting for her, they had no knowledge of who she was, the things she'd done for her fellow human beings. This was not a planned assault - it didn't need to be, these people were on every street, each of them with something they can use to batter, to break, because these people were just that - ordinary people. The public. A baseball bat struck her legs, a serrated knife across her arms as she starts to flee. What else can she do?
Howling in pain, the healer retreats to an alley, several sets of footsteps follow as she places her hands around her nose...only to have no effect. Her mind failed to focus, her body refused to do as she wished - she'd been drugged, presumably something coated on the knife. All it took was the right high, and not even the most calm of heroes could control their gifts.
The following acts of violence carried out on the healer would have no significance on the world outside this alley, because, within this very street, there would be at least two more alleys, where exactly the same thing was happening, perhaps to a psychic, perhaps to a pyrokinetic. Regardless of their power, they were being hunted, not by professionals, not by supervillains or evil masterminds, but by ordinary people.
Their existence had been revealed, and instead of gratitude, the public had nothing but fear for them.
Amidst the constant stream of passers-by, one woman stands still, watching. She can't help, not yet; she has no real use until someone gets hurt, which means that she has to wait for the worst possible scenario to carry out before she can do anything.
The year is 2020, and these are the streets of New York. The worst possible scenario always plays out.
The mugger produces a small knife, and only then does the boy stop resisting, helpless to watch as the blade thrusts into his stomach. His belongings already out of his hands, the mugger already starting to flee before the boy hits the ground. His vision blurs - the pain is incredible. A woman appears at his side, others just pass him by. She places her hands on his stomach, the pain flares, as if he has been stabbed again. He hears the sound of metal hitting the pavement, the knife removed, and pain receding as she keeps her hands over the wound. Even with his tunnel vision, he can see her hands are...glowing?
The healer breaths a sigh of relief - the boy may have lost his phone and wallet, but at least he'd live. Her job was done, she turned from the boy...
To witness a tire-iron swinging suspiciously closer towards her face.
A sickening crunch, the healer recoiling, blood pouring from her nose.
"You think we need your help, freak? You think any of us wouldn't rather die, than be touched by you?"
Another blow struck her round the back of the head, another assailant. These people hadn't been waiting for her, they had no knowledge of who she was, the things she'd done for her fellow human beings. This was not a planned assault - it didn't need to be, these people were on every street, each of them with something they can use to batter, to break, because these people were just that - ordinary people. The public. A baseball bat struck her legs, a serrated knife across her arms as she starts to flee. What else can she do?
Howling in pain, the healer retreats to an alley, several sets of footsteps follow as she places her hands around her nose...only to have no effect. Her mind failed to focus, her body refused to do as she wished - she'd been drugged, presumably something coated on the knife. All it took was the right high, and not even the most calm of heroes could control their gifts.
The following acts of violence carried out on the healer would have no significance on the world outside this alley, because, within this very street, there would be at least two more alleys, where exactly the same thing was happening, perhaps to a psychic, perhaps to a pyrokinetic. Regardless of their power, they were being hunted, not by professionals, not by supervillains or evil masterminds, but by ordinary people.
Their existence had been revealed, and instead of gratitude, the public had nothing but fear for them.
Armed forces patrol the streets, from heavily armed infantry, to APCs, helicopters, even tanks. Civilians are a rare sight, too afraid to leave their homes for anything other than food.
Two days ago, a new president had been elected. His name is unimportant, as are all his policies except one; the active removal of...'impure' humans. Armed forces patrolling the streets, just waiting for a passer-by to slip up, waiting for one of those bastards to pass by their checkpoints, to snap and send a fireball, or a lightning strike, or God-knows what their way, as, when they had confirmation, they could do whatever they pleased to the freaks...as long as they killed them when they were done.
Propaganda litters the streets, posters about 'Crimes Against Nature' and 'Soulless Monsters', and whilst ordinary folk are too wary of the army to walk the streets for long, they are far from unhappy - they voted for this, this is what they've wanted for over 20 years, ever since those monsters starting popping up in their streets, in their hospitals, in their police force, even at school with their children.
As their new President said, these things were a blight upon humanity, a blight upon American purity; they were a threat to every normal, good citizen of their fine country. That meant they had to go.
Two days ago, a new president had been elected. His name is unimportant, as are all his policies except one; the active removal of...'impure' humans. Armed forces patrolling the streets, just waiting for a passer-by to slip up, waiting for one of those bastards to pass by their checkpoints, to snap and send a fireball, or a lightning strike, or God-knows what their way, as, when they had confirmation, they could do whatever they pleased to the freaks...as long as they killed them when they were done.
Propaganda litters the streets, posters about 'Crimes Against Nature' and 'Soulless Monsters', and whilst ordinary folk are too wary of the army to walk the streets for long, they are far from unhappy - they voted for this, this is what they've wanted for over 20 years, ever since those monsters starting popping up in their streets, in their hospitals, in their police force, even at school with their children.
As their new President said, these things were a blight upon humanity, a blight upon American purity; they were a threat to every normal, good citizen of their fine country. That meant they had to go.
The armies are still in the 'streets', but the streets themselves are demolished, burned, crumbled and crushed. No building was untouched by explosion, bullet or superpower.
The Black Hand had struck back.
The Black Hands have always believed that all humans are inherently equal, superpowered or not. They do indeed still hold this belief...albeit a warped version. For 20 years now, the leaders of their countries had given 'normal' people the right to treat their superpowered brethren as inferior, as less than human, deserving of nothing but torture and death.
The Black Hands believe that all humans are inherently equal...with the same rights. If ordinary humans can do as they please, then so should superpowered individuals.
Pyrokinetics carpet-bombed army patrols, powerful psychics pulled down entire government facilities, invisible assassins cut the throats of high-ranking officials. Civilians were often caught in the crossfire, but what did that matter? All humans were inherently equal, so if part of humanity had no value, then none of it did.
Within but a few years, New York was turned into a warzone. Not a single area without some kind of destruction. And that was before The Red Hand got involved.
Whereas The Black Hand actively destroys, the Red Hand seeks to sabotage, to prevent any army mobilisation at all. They target key locations, supply routes, anything they can to stop the army advancing. Even this, however, exasabates the war - in desperation, the government cuts budgets to the public, and spends huge amounts in developing warfare. Armoured suits, seemingly immune to superpowers replace tanks, the army's bullets are coated in a substance that seems to negate powers altogether.
Both sides escalate in the ferocity of their attacks, until 2080. By 2080, even the public actively take part in the war.
The Black Hand had struck back.
The Black Hands have always believed that all humans are inherently equal, superpowered or not. They do indeed still hold this belief...albeit a warped version. For 20 years now, the leaders of their countries had given 'normal' people the right to treat their superpowered brethren as inferior, as less than human, deserving of nothing but torture and death.
The Black Hands believe that all humans are inherently equal...with the same rights. If ordinary humans can do as they please, then so should superpowered individuals.
Pyrokinetics carpet-bombed army patrols, powerful psychics pulled down entire government facilities, invisible assassins cut the throats of high-ranking officials. Civilians were often caught in the crossfire, but what did that matter? All humans were inherently equal, so if part of humanity had no value, then none of it did.
Within but a few years, New York was turned into a warzone. Not a single area without some kind of destruction. And that was before The Red Hand got involved.
Whereas The Black Hand actively destroys, the Red Hand seeks to sabotage, to prevent any army mobilisation at all. They target key locations, supply routes, anything they can to stop the army advancing. Even this, however, exasabates the war - in desperation, the government cuts budgets to the public, and spends huge amounts in developing warfare. Armoured suits, seemingly immune to superpowers replace tanks, the army's bullets are coated in a substance that seems to negate powers altogether.
Both sides escalate in the ferocity of their attacks, until 2080. By 2080, even the public actively take part in the war.
Another alleyway - a return to the hunts of 60 years ago. These hunts are not carried out by passing mobs, however; these hunts are carried out carefully, methodically, by...'professionals'.
A large, bald psychic attemps to throw anything he can in the way of his pursuer, to no avail - the vigilante's first attack had been with a poisoned blade, nothing as crude as the illicit drugs used decades ago, this was a specifically engineered substance, designed for psychics - perhaps even designed for his subtype of psychic. The government hadn't stopped at walking machines and fancy bullets, they'd cut up so many superpowered individuals they'd started burying them in landfills.
The psychic moaned as he took a hard right, fleeing from an enemy he still hadn't gotten a good look at. If he hadn't been running for his life, he might have taken note at the irony of a vigilante hunting people whose ancestors had prided themselves on being heroes. He was most certainly running for his life, however, and thus the irony was lost on him - running for his life...in the wrong direction. His feet snap a tripwire; he stops, knowing that he is already dead, in his haste he'd failed to keep aware, and that was how they got you - not through superior power, nor through fancy technology, these vigilantes worked through cunning.
The alley was filled with bits of the psychic as landmines along the walls detonated.
The vigilante entered the alleyway shortly after, holding a mobile phone in his hand. Once he had located the head of the psychic, he used the phone to take a picture - a picture he then sent to the only phone number in his address book. Five minutes later, a huge sum of money was deposited in his bank account, courtesy of the US government.
A large, bald psychic attemps to throw anything he can in the way of his pursuer, to no avail - the vigilante's first attack had been with a poisoned blade, nothing as crude as the illicit drugs used decades ago, this was a specifically engineered substance, designed for psychics - perhaps even designed for his subtype of psychic. The government hadn't stopped at walking machines and fancy bullets, they'd cut up so many superpowered individuals they'd started burying them in landfills.
The psychic moaned as he took a hard right, fleeing from an enemy he still hadn't gotten a good look at. If he hadn't been running for his life, he might have taken note at the irony of a vigilante hunting people whose ancestors had prided themselves on being heroes. He was most certainly running for his life, however, and thus the irony was lost on him - running for his life...in the wrong direction. His feet snap a tripwire; he stops, knowing that he is already dead, in his haste he'd failed to keep aware, and that was how they got you - not through superior power, nor through fancy technology, these vigilantes worked through cunning.
The alley was filled with bits of the psychic as landmines along the walls detonated.
The vigilante entered the alleyway shortly after, holding a mobile phone in his hand. Once he had located the head of the psychic, he used the phone to take a picture - a picture he then sent to the only phone number in his address book. Five minutes later, a huge sum of money was deposited in his bank account, courtesy of the US government.
And welcome to this Superpowered Spinoff. This will play in a largely similar way to the previous superpowered RPs, albeit with a few differences;
In this Superpowered Spinoff, only half of the players will play individuals with supernatural abilities. The other half will play vigilantes - bounty hunters, hired by the government.
The two groups will be placed on opposite sides of the same situations, working competetively against different obstacles, but with the same end-goal.
For an example of how this could work - let's say that a female psychic has gone out of control and is tearing up a street, the army blocking her on both sides but ultimately unable to kill her. The goal of the superheroes is to stop and help her, whereas the vigilantes want the large bounty on her head, but both groups would have to fight through military blockades, traps, boss characters and perhaps the other group to get there.
'Who Wins' is determined by the efficiency, intelligence and actions of the groups - say both groups are fighting a boss character. Group Super takes 48 hours coming up with a perfect, flawless plan that does indeed defeat the boss, but Group Vigilante simply left two of their members to finish it off whilst they immediately went ahead. Group V moves on and has a large advantage over Group S in terms of who gets to the objective first, but Group S has more people fighting if it comes to PvP.
The success or failure of your actions determine plot points, as well as the overall tone of the plot - if Group V wins far more than Group S, you can expect a darker, more hopeless theme to the plot than if Group S were playing the part of unstoppable heroes.
This, however, is rather irrelevant - all you need to know is that you will play exactly as you did in the other RPs, but your actions have more mechanic-based consequences.
As for playing as these vigilantes, the choices are rather broad - you could be armed to the teeth with explosives, dual-wielding shotguns and spouting Noir-narrative, or you could come equipped with two Iron-Man-esque laser gauntlets. You could specialise in concoting anti-freak agents, or you could simply really, really like grenades. The limit is that you, obviously, cannot have any superpowers - the vigilantes of this game are indeed extraordinary, but they have no supernatural powers.
If you're playing a superpowered individual, then your choices are the same as the last two RPs, with a few differences in the character sheet.
The two groups will be placed on opposite sides of the same situations, working competetively against different obstacles, but with the same end-goal.
For an example of how this could work - let's say that a female psychic has gone out of control and is tearing up a street, the army blocking her on both sides but ultimately unable to kill her. The goal of the superheroes is to stop and help her, whereas the vigilantes want the large bounty on her head, but both groups would have to fight through military blockades, traps, boss characters and perhaps the other group to get there.
'Who Wins' is determined by the efficiency, intelligence and actions of the groups - say both groups are fighting a boss character. Group Super takes 48 hours coming up with a perfect, flawless plan that does indeed defeat the boss, but Group Vigilante simply left two of their members to finish it off whilst they immediately went ahead. Group V moves on and has a large advantage over Group S in terms of who gets to the objective first, but Group S has more people fighting if it comes to PvP.
The success or failure of your actions determine plot points, as well as the overall tone of the plot - if Group V wins far more than Group S, you can expect a darker, more hopeless theme to the plot than if Group S were playing the part of unstoppable heroes.
This, however, is rather irrelevant - all you need to know is that you will play exactly as you did in the other RPs, but your actions have more mechanic-based consequences.
As for playing as these vigilantes, the choices are rather broad - you could be armed to the teeth with explosives, dual-wielding shotguns and spouting Noir-narrative, or you could come equipped with two Iron-Man-esque laser gauntlets. You could specialise in concoting anti-freak agents, or you could simply really, really like grenades. The limit is that you, obviously, cannot have any superpowers - the vigilantes of this game are indeed extraordinary, but they have no supernatural powers.
If you're playing a superpowered individual, then your choices are the same as the last two RPs, with a few differences in the character sheet.
This will be updated at a later time, when I have sorted out who is going to be a vigilante, and who is going to be a superhero.
Oh, and another note to clarify - the vigilantes are not allied with the army, they are paid by the government, but the army will still shoot them on sight if they try to enter restricted or quarantined areas. There is no inherent advantage to either side, just many differences, hopefully.
Oh, and another note to clarify - the vigilantes are not allied with the army, they are paid by the government, but the army will still shoot them on sight if they try to enter restricted or quarantined areas. There is no inherent advantage to either side, just many differences, hopefully.
At the moment, I am garnering interest - for now, this RP is closed to anyone who was not in the previous RPs; I'd like to know how many of the previous crew are going to be joining before I open this up.
So, if you have played either of the previous RPs, and wish to join, either post here, or send me a PM - informing me clearly whether you'd like to play a vigilante or a superhero, or if you don't mind either way. Before I even start this RP, I need to be sure I have an even number of players, and equal teams.
So, again, this RP is currently closed to the public, but open to anyone who played in either of Rex's RPs. I'll answer any questions via PM, and update this post with an FAQ if I get a fair few, but try to keep this thread free of anything other than announcing your interest.
