Yah, that used to happen to me alot too. I don't know why.
Sorry to get your hopes up with this post.
Again, I am just here to say that I will do it later. Soon, though, soon.
Maybe even tommorow. Something came up.
The People's Republic of Adanac (A role playing game)
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Schme
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- Location: Canada
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Schme
- Posts: 2067
- Joined: Thu Nov 25, 2004 10:21 pm
- Location: Canada
(Well, here it is, at long last, as promised weeks ago. It might be strange a bit, as I wrote it late at the night, and that is what I did, and did not without read the back. But all the same, it’s here.
However, this is really just for Just A Bill. You other two have had everything the whole time. Do you need me to write more? Is you drop out? No problems, just must be let known, is all. Thanks!)
The man who was leading the group of men looked stared blankly at Jack for a moment, and then, composing himself, said “Well…Uh, well you can’t come. Now…Of with you.” The last words where followed by waving sort of gesture.
He then shifted his attention back to his men, not really seeming to notice that Jack was still there. The men, in turn, turned from Jack and listened to him continue his little speech. From what could be heard, the plan consisted of rushing a crowd and beating near everyone to be found, as well as some instruction to arrest some unspecified people at the “second radio”. It was not one what would call modern or revolutionary tactics.
“Alright boys, let’s move out!” said the lead man, and the group all began a slow walk forward.
One of the uniformed men turned around to face Jack, and said quietly, “Horace, man, we’re taking down Horace.” He turned around, and then turned back again, his face having lit up, as though he’d just thought of something. “Hey man!” he shouted to Jack. “Horace!” and he flashed a quick hand signal with both his hands. He then began laughing as though he’d made a good joke, and turned around for the final time to catch up to the others.
Continuing on down the long street, it looked continually the same, the line of generic three story tenements running steadily. The street was filled with garbage, and a great deal of it was cracked and broken, chunks of it heaving up out of it, and filled with potholes. Few people were on the street. Some shuffled along up and down, going home or leaving, carrying groceries or walking hurriedly. The largest groups were the many very young children who played together among the trash, and who seemed quite content to be doing it.
Passing one of the tenements, it could be seen that in it’s bottom floor was a sort of corner store, with a large blue sign above it with words written in a number of languages. An English line said “Government General Store”.
On the walls of many of the tenements, a tag was seen repeating itself many times. It was written in several different shades of blue, and like most, in a many different styles. It read “Rice Brawlerz”.
Approaching the end of the road, what was there came into better view (as things typically do). On the far continuation of the road (which turned leftward) side of the street were, as I said before, a long line of highrises and apartment complexes, many of the latter sprawling out onto the field. On other side, the same generic three story tenements continued, broken up by shops and small strip malls at some intervals. In addition to these, the first floor of the high rises all contained several shops rather than apartments. The lower floors had a great deal of overlapping graffiti on the brick.
On that street, there was a good deal more people, mostly on foot some on bicycles, going about thee business, walking into shops or apartments, loitering and whatever else. Like the group of policemen, the inhabitants of the neighborhood were mostly white and black.
Each very Spartan apartment in the high rises and most of the apartment complexes had a small steel framed wooden balcony. On many of these were cheap folding chairs, oil stoves or piles of things meant to be stored. Many also had potted plants, some with flowers, but many also have food, such as a potato or seaweed plant.
The field, which continued out after the road turned, was a wide field like place, where a vast amount of garbage was strewn out across the green grass. Two old metal soccer posts lay at large intervals in one part, presumably representing a soccer field. Supporting this image was a number of youths playing soccer in between them.
On several patches of concrete patches of concrete where basketball rusting basketball hoops, with chain nets.
In some parts of the field, the massive brick and concrete apartments sprawled out.
On the other side of the field was old crumbling blocks of two story houses.
This area of the city seemed to have been planned out by someone who hadn’t entirely known what he was doing.
The field had, in addition to trash, scattered groups of people. Most of these people were young men, who dressed very much alike. Most of them seemed to be aquainted with each other. Many of them played casual games of basketball and soccer, while others talked and drank on the sidelines. There were also a number of children playing, who were watched over carefully collectively by the people in the field. The fields occupants numbered in the several hundreds of people, who, like the people on the street and road, and like the policemen, were almost exclusively black and white.
The group of uniformed men, walking at a quick pace, took up position in front of a high rise apartment building right on the edge of the field, one the side of which could be seen a great large, elaborate and artful tag, in high letters composed of many different coulored geometric shapes, which read “HORACE”. The people on the street near the gathering quickly dispersed and went either inside or in the other direction. No one seemed to notice or care about Jack’s presence. One man shouted something, but was quickly chased off by a nightstick wielding yellow uniformed officer.
A man rounded the corner coming from the field, and noticing the group of uniformed men, dropped a brown paper bag he had had in his hand on the concrete, which made a shattering sound and spilt some sort of liquor onto the road. He then turned and ran at breakneck pace into the field, shouting at the top of his lungs. A great deal of cursing arose from the uniformed group, and after a quick exchange by the one in charge with someone else on his radio, the group charged into the field, fanning out into smaller groups, and using there trebucheons, proceded to attack selected people.
By the time they had arrived, most of the people in the field had already begun the process of running away, to home or elsewhere. Some stayed out of the way, watching with mild annoyance or surprise, mostly women and older men.
At the same time, other groups of similarly uniformed men emerged onto the field from other places, and did much the same thing. From some spots roared in blue and white hummers with what looked to be police lights and sirens on top, the sides labeled in black letters “GRC”. Out of these poured yet more uniformed men.
At the end of the chaos and confusion, the field lay almost near empty of people, with around two hundred uniformed men grouped near the center, surrounded with there large awkward hummers. In there custody was around thirty young men, from whose pockets and clothing was removed a number of rather common weapons.
The field people had almost all made it home or elsewhere, although a good deal had been hurt in the process. In the execution of what appeared to be a very badly done sting, it had been the men in uniform who had committed most of the violence, as near all of the people had been more intent on running away than resisting. The uniformed men, however, did not seem to be celebrating there apparent victory. Rather, a number of them were talking with civilians, or searching for things.
They soon began to clear off, with the captives in tow. Children returned to the park, and other adults returned to walk across or take little strolls. The whole ordeal lasted only about twenty minutes.
(I try.)
However, this is really just for Just A Bill. You other two have had everything the whole time. Do you need me to write more? Is you drop out? No problems, just must be let known, is all. Thanks!)
The man who was leading the group of men looked stared blankly at Jack for a moment, and then, composing himself, said “Well…Uh, well you can’t come. Now…Of with you.” The last words where followed by waving sort of gesture.
He then shifted his attention back to his men, not really seeming to notice that Jack was still there. The men, in turn, turned from Jack and listened to him continue his little speech. From what could be heard, the plan consisted of rushing a crowd and beating near everyone to be found, as well as some instruction to arrest some unspecified people at the “second radio”. It was not one what would call modern or revolutionary tactics.
“Alright boys, let’s move out!” said the lead man, and the group all began a slow walk forward.
One of the uniformed men turned around to face Jack, and said quietly, “Horace, man, we’re taking down Horace.” He turned around, and then turned back again, his face having lit up, as though he’d just thought of something. “Hey man!” he shouted to Jack. “Horace!” and he flashed a quick hand signal with both his hands. He then began laughing as though he’d made a good joke, and turned around for the final time to catch up to the others.
Continuing on down the long street, it looked continually the same, the line of generic three story tenements running steadily. The street was filled with garbage, and a great deal of it was cracked and broken, chunks of it heaving up out of it, and filled with potholes. Few people were on the street. Some shuffled along up and down, going home or leaving, carrying groceries or walking hurriedly. The largest groups were the many very young children who played together among the trash, and who seemed quite content to be doing it.
Passing one of the tenements, it could be seen that in it’s bottom floor was a sort of corner store, with a large blue sign above it with words written in a number of languages. An English line said “Government General Store”.
On the walls of many of the tenements, a tag was seen repeating itself many times. It was written in several different shades of blue, and like most, in a many different styles. It read “Rice Brawlerz”.
Approaching the end of the road, what was there came into better view (as things typically do). On the far continuation of the road (which turned leftward) side of the street were, as I said before, a long line of highrises and apartment complexes, many of the latter sprawling out onto the field. On other side, the same generic three story tenements continued, broken up by shops and small strip malls at some intervals. In addition to these, the first floor of the high rises all contained several shops rather than apartments. The lower floors had a great deal of overlapping graffiti on the brick.
On that street, there was a good deal more people, mostly on foot some on bicycles, going about thee business, walking into shops or apartments, loitering and whatever else. Like the group of policemen, the inhabitants of the neighborhood were mostly white and black.
Each very Spartan apartment in the high rises and most of the apartment complexes had a small steel framed wooden balcony. On many of these were cheap folding chairs, oil stoves or piles of things meant to be stored. Many also had potted plants, some with flowers, but many also have food, such as a potato or seaweed plant.
The field, which continued out after the road turned, was a wide field like place, where a vast amount of garbage was strewn out across the green grass. Two old metal soccer posts lay at large intervals in one part, presumably representing a soccer field. Supporting this image was a number of youths playing soccer in between them.
On several patches of concrete patches of concrete where basketball rusting basketball hoops, with chain nets.
In some parts of the field, the massive brick and concrete apartments sprawled out.
On the other side of the field was old crumbling blocks of two story houses.
This area of the city seemed to have been planned out by someone who hadn’t entirely known what he was doing.
The field had, in addition to trash, scattered groups of people. Most of these people were young men, who dressed very much alike. Most of them seemed to be aquainted with each other. Many of them played casual games of basketball and soccer, while others talked and drank on the sidelines. There were also a number of children playing, who were watched over carefully collectively by the people in the field. The fields occupants numbered in the several hundreds of people, who, like the people on the street and road, and like the policemen, were almost exclusively black and white.
The group of uniformed men, walking at a quick pace, took up position in front of a high rise apartment building right on the edge of the field, one the side of which could be seen a great large, elaborate and artful tag, in high letters composed of many different coulored geometric shapes, which read “HORACE”. The people on the street near the gathering quickly dispersed and went either inside or in the other direction. No one seemed to notice or care about Jack’s presence. One man shouted something, but was quickly chased off by a nightstick wielding yellow uniformed officer.
A man rounded the corner coming from the field, and noticing the group of uniformed men, dropped a brown paper bag he had had in his hand on the concrete, which made a shattering sound and spilt some sort of liquor onto the road. He then turned and ran at breakneck pace into the field, shouting at the top of his lungs. A great deal of cursing arose from the uniformed group, and after a quick exchange by the one in charge with someone else on his radio, the group charged into the field, fanning out into smaller groups, and using there trebucheons, proceded to attack selected people.
By the time they had arrived, most of the people in the field had already begun the process of running away, to home or elsewhere. Some stayed out of the way, watching with mild annoyance or surprise, mostly women and older men.
At the same time, other groups of similarly uniformed men emerged onto the field from other places, and did much the same thing. From some spots roared in blue and white hummers with what looked to be police lights and sirens on top, the sides labeled in black letters “GRC”. Out of these poured yet more uniformed men.
At the end of the chaos and confusion, the field lay almost near empty of people, with around two hundred uniformed men grouped near the center, surrounded with there large awkward hummers. In there custody was around thirty young men, from whose pockets and clothing was removed a number of rather common weapons.
The field people had almost all made it home or elsewhere, although a good deal had been hurt in the process. In the execution of what appeared to be a very badly done sting, it had been the men in uniform who had committed most of the violence, as near all of the people had been more intent on running away than resisting. The uniformed men, however, did not seem to be celebrating there apparent victory. Rather, a number of them were talking with civilians, or searching for things.
They soon began to clear off, with the captives in tow. Children returned to the park, and other adults returned to walk across or take little strolls. The whole ordeal lasted only about twenty minutes.
(I try.)
"One death is a tragedy, a million is just statistics."
Joseph Stalin
Joseph Stalin
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Schme
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Just A Bill
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Ok, Jack decides to give the cops about 10-15 minutes to clear the area, then takes a walk thru the park, giving any groups of people a wide bearth. Trying to go thru the area where the men were searched. Without being too obvious about it, he looks about for clothes or weapons that had been discarded. Also, keep an eye out for anyone hurt who is not being tended to by others.
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Schme
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- Joined: Thu Nov 25, 2004 10:21 pm
- Location: Canada
Through! Through!
The police having left with there prisoners, many youths began again there loitering and games of soccer and basketball. It could be seen that many of them were drinking and smoking cigarettes, and there was also a strong scent of weed, although there were no joints to be seen.
Many of the youths wore bright, almost pink red shirts and bandanas around there hair. On these were either the word “HORACE” in black lettering, or, again in black (presumably to be easily seen and made out against the red) the image of a very odd serpent.
A group of seniors of both sexes stood in the center of the park, smoking, drinking and gossiping, with several couples on there way to gossiping, with a number of other people on there way to join them.
Two rather shaggy looking men, one white and one asian, unshaven and with long hair and dirty clothing, were wandering the field picking up beer cans and bottles, aswell as the remnants of discarded cigarettes.
On a bench sat two men, one white and one black. They looked about in there late thirties. The white one wore a leather jacket and a bright pinkish red bandana, where the black one wore a green T-Shirt and a black doo-rag around his hair. He also had a heavily bandaged right eye and another bandage wrapped tightly around his right armed, out of which slowly ouzed blood. The two men were sharing a large bottle of Canadian Rye.
I'm just a bill, a lonely bill........
The police having left with there prisoners, many youths began again there loitering and games of soccer and basketball. It could be seen that many of them were drinking and smoking cigarettes, and there was also a strong scent of weed, although there were no joints to be seen.
Many of the youths wore bright, almost pink red shirts and bandanas around there hair. On these were either the word “HORACE” in black lettering, or, again in black (presumably to be easily seen and made out against the red) the image of a very odd serpent.
A group of seniors of both sexes stood in the center of the park, smoking, drinking and gossiping, with several couples on there way to gossiping, with a number of other people on there way to join them.
Two rather shaggy looking men, one white and one asian, unshaven and with long hair and dirty clothing, were wandering the field picking up beer cans and bottles, aswell as the remnants of discarded cigarettes.
On a bench sat two men, one white and one black. They looked about in there late thirties. The white one wore a leather jacket and a bright pinkish red bandana, where the black one wore a green T-Shirt and a black doo-rag around his hair. He also had a heavily bandaged right eye and another bandage wrapped tightly around his right armed, out of which slowly ouzed blood. The two men were sharing a large bottle of Canadian Rye.
I'm just a bill, a lonely bill........
"One death is a tragedy, a million is just statistics."
Joseph Stalin
Joseph Stalin
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Schme
- Posts: 2067
- Joined: Thu Nov 25, 2004 10:21 pm
- Location: Canada
.......And the lord said onto Schme "My son, you are myself, the lord god incarnate, brought to this earth to restore the order and rule of heaven over the heathens. And this you shall do, at whatever cost. You shall go fourth, and recruit true believers, and you shall grow strong, killing the heretics and the agents of Satan, leaving only the reformed and faithful, and you shall rule the world, as myself, as we, would rule, with all the wisdom and power of the one God, which you are. Yes, my son, you are myself, the one God incarnate, and you shall be worshiped as such, and a grand palace shall be built for you in the heart of the holy land, paralleled by a great celestial palace in the sky, and from these places, you and I shall rule, with all the splendor and exatravagance of the one devine being , and with equal reverence, and have oh so very many ladies. This you shall do, Schme. And your reign, the reign of heaven, shall last four twelve score hundred years, at which point, you shall depart from your earthly capsule, and ascend directly too heaven, where you shall pass back into true Godhood, and there rule for the rest of eternity.
But first, my son, you must get out of this padded cell. Kill the heretics, my son. Kill them. This is a recording."
But first, my son, you must get out of this padded cell. Kill the heretics, my son. Kill them. This is a recording."
"One death is a tragedy, a million is just statistics."
Joseph Stalin
Joseph Stalin
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west
- Posts: 4649
- Joined: Mon Aug 25, 2003 5:23 pm
schme wrote:Oddly enough, there was extensive information on the nation labelled Dominion of Canada, aswell as a great deal of information on what was labelled the Nothern Union, aswell as most of the countries along the Dominion's border.
The date of publication on the copyright page stood out, as it stated the book as having been published in the year 2056. The book was published by a company called "Dominion Publishing". Dominion seemed to be the theme around.
"Alex City, C."
Alex City is the capital of The Dominion of Canada and the nation's fourth largest city.
Geography:
Alex City sits on the south bank of the Ottawa River, around the mouths of the Rideau River and Rideau Canal. The oldest part of the city (including what remains of Bytown) is known as Lower Town and occupies an area between the canal and the rivers. Across the canal to the west lies Centretown, which is the city's financial and commercial hub. Between here and the Ottawa River, the slight elevation of Parliament Hill is home to many of the capital's landmark government buildings, and is the Legislative seat of Canada.
The City of Alex City includes many urban areas. The main one extends for considerable distance to the east, west and south of the centre, and includes the former cities of...............................
Across the Ottawa River, which forms the border between Ontario and Quebec, lies the city of Gatineau. Although administered separately, the two cities both fall within the remit of the National Capital Commission and for many purposes are considered a single metropolitan area, called Canada's Capital Region.
Alex City itself is a single-tiered city, meaning.........."
Transportation:
Alex City is served by the Royal Canadian Railroad Company, aswell as Air Canada........
Alex City main mass transit company is AC Transpo. The bus transit system includes the Transitway, a network of mostly grade-separated, extremely high-frequency, reserved bus rapid transit lanes with full stations instead of stops.
The city is served by a diesel lightrail system called the A-Train........"
A number of other articles noted landmarks, local politics, demographics, and so on.
History:
The Alex City region was long home to First Nations peoples who were part of the Algonquin. The first European settlement in the Alex City region was that of Philemon Wright who started a community on the Quebec side of the river in 1800. Wright discovered that transporting timber by river from the Ottawa Valley to Montreal was possible and Alex City was soon booming based almost entirely off timber. The city grew even further in importance when the Rideau Canal was constructed by Colonel John By to connect Alex City with Kingston which was then the colonial capital of Canada. Alex City was then known as Bytown, but was incorporated as Ottawa(after the Ottawa, or Odawa Native tribe) in 1855.
On December 31, 1857, Queen Victoria was asked to choose a common capital for Canada East and Canada West (modern Quebec and Ontario) and chose Alex City (then Ottawa). There are old folk tales about how she made the choice...............
…………………..and shortly after, Totalitarian forces marched triumphantly into the city. It was soon renamed Alex City, after the great leader of the Totalitarian revolution…………………….
Music could suddenly be heard emanating from a corner of the room. Between two shelves, a group of leather clad youths, with they’re hair died in odd and unnatural colors, were had turned on a large radio, and sent music throughout the floor.
“Turn that off!” yelled an old, grey bearded man in a dark blue security guard uniform.
“Why don’t you make us, Babylone boy!” yelled back one of the others, causing the group to break into infinitly annoying cackles of laughter. A man who had been typing at a computer machine stood up angrily, followed by another who put down his book and walked across the room, brass knuckles glistening on his fingers. The guard took out his steel trebucheon. A short bout ensued between the two groups, which ended in the flight of the badly hurt young party, who ran out the front door, leaving there radio behind. The guard, turning off the radio, picked it up, brought it over to a kit bag he had previously been carrying, and crammed it inside, before making another round of the libraries top floor, and then going into the basement. The two men who had partook in the skirmish returned to there devices. No one really seemed to be all that disturbed by the happenings, although many did look annoyed at having been distracted. The soldier at the front desk still looked very bored.
A small group of women came through the doors of the library, leading a band of about forty little children, about six and seven years old, each of them. The women at the front desk and the women leading the group exchanged smiles and quick greetings, and the group was then lead to the end of the library where the large picture of the man in the snakeskin suit was up high on the wall. Sitting a number of feet back, so that the children could see it clearly, the teachers began telling the children a story about the exploits of The Right and Honorable Prime Minster Alexander Machearn Thompson.
An overhead light on the other side of the room flickered and burnt out.
That explains a lot, thought Johnny. Obviously I've been transported into the future, where Canada is under martial law and...
He shakes his head. Dude, what did I DO last night? This is far trippier than the trippiest I've ever felt.
He glances at the picture of the guy in the snakeskin suit. This Thompson guy can't be too cool. I mean, c'mon. Snakeskin?
Johnny lets the book fall closed with a thoughtful thud. Now maybe he'd check out that larger building across the street. And maybe find a place to hole up for the night.
He heads towards the exit of the library.
I'm not dead; I'm dormant.
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Just A Bill
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Schme
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Schme
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Schme
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Alright, now I promise I shall start this again. If you would like to continue playing, that is. If not, perfectly understandable, but I would appreciate it if you told me.
I thought of a way too speed this game up that I try to implement soon.
I thought of a way too speed this game up that I try to implement soon.
"One death is a tragedy, a million is just statistics."
Joseph Stalin
Joseph Stalin
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Schme
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- Joined: Thu Nov 25, 2004 10:21 pm
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Just A Bill
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Fleegle
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Varrius
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