Sky wanders down the street, yelling at the empty storefronts.

#I'D LIKE TO BUY A GUN!

He reaches into his pocket, filled to the brim with pennies.

#I HAVE...

As he takes his hand out of his pocket a bunch of pennies spill out over the sidewalk.

...Some pennies.

He throws a handful of pennies at a shop window.

Goddamn it, why is every shop closed on New Year's?

I can't help it, no.

In a one-man bathroom tub.

Over the threads I go

Crying in the pub.

#OH-GOD-WHY

Keys and mouse clicks fly.

And most of us are gone.

It's time to say goodbye and bye

Over a brand new dawn

Quad RP, Quad RP

Refreshing every day.

Oh how sad it is to think

We jumped off sometime last May

#HEY!

Quad RP, Quad RP

Discord is okay!

Oh what fun it is to see

The friends we made on the way!

Who were we? It’s an easier question to ask who we weren’t. We’ve come from everywhere, across known space and beyond. Mercenaries, gang members, merchants, rebels, terrorists. All of it. Who we were, was Paradise City. A place that no matter who you are, who you were or who you’re going to be, you’ll be accepted. The Vegas Quadrant was more than a small sector of space at the edge of where man dared tread. It was an idea. A purlose. An ideology. There were those of us who never really gave up on that dream, the dream of true and absolute freedom. But the thing about dreams is, they fade. Once great monuments crumble to dust. Grand empires and powerful states will fall. The end will come. It did for us.

But even as dreams fade, what remains is what we learned from them. Paradise is in everyone’s reach. We are all masters of our own destiny. And sometimes, the box that the key of memory opens, is best left shut

At least that’s what Winter thought as he stood in the bombed out ruins of Paradise City. Some locks were never meant to turn in the first place

Spatski finishing up his drink, slides some money over to the bartender, while growling about the prices. The bartender slides him another shot. On a bulletin board next to the bar a poster was a mercenary for higher poster. Now all he had to do was sit and wait.

Spatski walks down the lonely dirt filled streets of the slums of vegas quadrant. He sees a pair of kids running in and out of artificial lights casting yellow, zombie like glows on their faces. They slow down when they see him, they just stare. He walks past looking at their petrified stares. He smiles. He stops and rests on a bench. He looks at his PDA 01:46 the time says. He huffs.

Spatski lays down on top of a tall building in the Bunnies territory, taking pot shots at birds flying around, growling every time he misses, making quite a fuss. His AI talking to him, “no, you’ll get the next bird. I said left not right. No, listen, I’m guiding your shots. No how would i fire the rifle!” Each time after the AI talks growling can be heard as Spatski argues with it. Each time, a shot, talking, growling. Eventually it stops and Spatski sits on the corner of the street, waiting for anything.

After a mysterious explosion in a building right next next to the Winchester, the property was bought cheap and, following three days of intensive renovation, Oliver Queen opens up a new pub & restaurant to the residents of Paradise. It's name-

The Winchester 2.

Now open for business. Drop by.

BANG BANG BANG, a regular slams on the door to the most beloved bar, the Winchester. “Lance it’s opening time! I’m not letting you open at 7 again! What are you doing in there!” Lance’s eyelids relax, as his body slumps over, before catching himself by gripping his chair, his wheelchair. Seems like he was using it as a seat to overlook His, no Ortiz’s model base. While breathing heavily from somewhere...he heard a voice almost whispering to him. “Fuck him, let that drunk die of thirst.” Lance shakes his head and looks around trying to locate the voice. It seems to emanate from a cardboard box in the corner of the room. Lance slowly stands up,finding his footing and walks cautiously to the box Slowly lifting to up. Revealing Lance’s old blood gulch helmet. He slowly leans down and picks it up. He rubs the back end and flips it around to look at he visor. It’s chipped, fragmented from the last time he wore it. Protecting the city from Ash-bots. Lance shakes his head and slowly puts it on, knowing he shouldn’t. “So what are you going to do, feed the drunk? It’s a stray, Lance. You always take in the strays, the nut jobs, the broken, This bar, All your friends, You…. Ortiz.” Lance quickly rips the helmet off chucking it at the wall. Leaving a divot in the drywall.. the voice it’s so, angry. “SHUT UP!” Lance huffing and puffing fights to get those words out. “So you will get me drinks?” that drunk, that...stray trying to get drinks. “Yeah if you keep it down.” lance yells out the office door. Lance wipes his newly forming tears out of his eyes. And starts to slowly walk to Winchester door. “what a way to start out the work night.” lance chuckles to himself. As he unlocks and opens the door “so Mark, what can the Winchester provide?”

Was a sorrid day. After all, what members of our cast still regularly visit their familial relations? There was many more concerning matters to be taken up, like what television station to pass out in front of?

Krushevski sat in a bar in the Neutral Territories, he had been wandering all day looking for a bounty or a contract or anything, he buys a few drinks and waits for someone to come by.

It's a cruel world, right?

Living without any real purpose isn't fun. Sitting on the side of the streets, rotting away, just not knowing what to do with your life, and there's no end to that life in sight. You need to breathe life into yourself but you don't know where to start with that.

Then again, all that remains for Albion Danbury is his thoughts. Everything's a big fucking shitshow and he has no idea where to go, no idea what to do with himself. His mind's just a scrambling mess. It's been months since anyone's contacted him, but that's probably for the best, looking at himself from a different pair of eyes.

He continued to rest, just waiting it out on the streets of the city, trying not to overthink it all.

The sun rose gradually that morning, signify the lazy day most had ahead for them.

Not Sam though, she was, once again, in a confusing well of emotions that she didn't understand

To summarize it easily. This was your average Saturday

She slips out of bed and meanders around for about an hour before finally going to confront her older brother

Knock knock knock

A blur of light-on-darkness shone through the dark lanes like a beacon. And it was all the tell needed. This drug up-start had been causing timid but painful waves around the city, but as the Green Arrow pounced on his prey, possibly influenced by some sort of large cat, not really a Puma, more like a... Panther, yes, The Green Arrow pounced on his--

A speedy crowbar connected with Oliver Queens temple, how was distracted by his own inner monologing. Dazed, he felt a tough force bend his knee the wrong way, and the vigilante collapsed on the ground, watching the hired goon take off.

After blacking out, Queen dragged himself to the nearest bus stop, got on, black out again, got kicked off, and dragged himself again towards his secure base of operations: A two-story suburban house on the Roja-Bunny border, usually the calmer of the two delineations within Paradise, and like every time before, he saw the endless rows of ON-SALE signs standing along the street. The same signs stood along every street. The city was a lot quieter than usual. Queen shrugged it off to the time of year and not the endless volleys of violence that tear through the city every four months.

Queen sits on his porch, kicking back a beer and watching the sunrise. He might see residents walk past, since everyone probably knows where his uber-secret hideout is, but he'll be just as content to sit alone and take in the morning colourscape too.

Sometimes the most secure way to exchange information was by using hard copies left in discrete locations. Polade flipped through one such file now, a file he had been trying to get his hands on for a very long time. He traced a finger over the watermark imprinted on every page. Not a government seal, but a company logo.

Finally, he was one step closer to the truth.

"Grandpa, where did Aquila come from?"

"Aquila? What makes you ask that?"

"I had heard their kind was made by scanning someone's brain, a process that kills the giver."

"Ah, well, are you familiar with dumb AI?"

"Dumb AI?"

"Yes, dumb AI are not truly intelligent. They're imperfect attempts to replicate a human mind, without using one as a base. At best, they can culminate a small selection of interconnected traits. Like reason and foresight, or grace and empathy."

"Then why aren't dumb AI more commonly used?"

"While they make excellent data crunchers, they aren't so talented at human interaction. But, there have been attempts to make them better, even as companion AIs become prominent, some people want a safer solution to the creation of AI."

"Only attempts?"

"Yes, only attempts. What were made were no better then companion AI."

"Hello again... Constellation."

It would be a bright and sunny Easter Sunday in Paradise, with people going about their day as they shop around what used to be the Dissident district. In particular, a man is looking at a fine suit in a window, not noticing his surroundings at all. So interested in this suit, he doesn't even notice what appears to be the nearby drug dealer step out of the alley and draw his weapon.

A moment later, a shot would ring out as the man's brains are splattered all across the window. Suddenly, the streets are filled with gunfire as civilian after civilian is gunned down by what appear to be random drug dealers, bodies litter the streets as the injured try to crawl away. The "dealers" seem a bit shaken with what they done, one even puking from the horrible random act of violence. Quickly, they vanish back down the alleys they had arrived in as, since it was his old MO, multiple broadcasts on the radio and Television are hijacked

"Attention Paradise. As Im sure most of you will be aware of in a few moments....there has just been a great tragedy in what was once my home, the dissident's territory. I am sure they will be able to tell you just how many died, but I wanted to let you all know exactly why this tragedy happened."

"They say on the third day, the savior rose from the dead. Well, it may not have been three days...but Paradise's savior has risen. The leader of the Dissidents has returned, not that I haven't been watching and collecting information, but I feel like its finally time I publicly announce my return. Now, I invite anyone who has any complaints about my return or any complaints about how I delivered my message this morning, to come and meet me at the Memorial in front of Paradise Towers."

"Ill be waiting."

I’m so tired… I just want to go home… please. Ortiz said out into the void of the dark, cold, and decaying world around him. He lost track of time, it had been so long, or maybe it hadn’t. He didn’t know, all he had to judge the time were the cuts across his body. One for every day… or was it hours? He couldn’t remember anymore. He had trouble remembering a lot of things, it seemed like the only things he could remember were in this empty white void of a world his mind created while waiting to be returned to… somewhere. He couldn’t remember, but there was someone out there waiting for him. Maybe, but he didn’t remember meeting anyone, not anymore.

Ortiz collapsed to the ground looking around, it was only a small chunk of land no bigger than a tiny island with a steep cliff into nothingness. He took a breath and it felt as though his very essence was being frozen. He felt like taking a nap, his eyelids were heavy but he needed to find… someone. He could only remember one thing, they always sat in a chair. He wasn’t sure, he tried to push himself up to his knees with what little strength he had left but it only made him more tired. He laid still content waiting and hoping this person would come to him.

A very distorted voice that Ortiz didn’t recognize said “Reserve power 2.2%, AI chip 97.43% compromised.” He didn’t understand, wasn’t this reality? He took another breath in before trying to exhale out to no avail. He couldn’t breathe… his hand reached up trying to feel it but there was nothing there but a glass plating. There was no mouth or nose… what were those again? He couldn’t remember but he had an idea that it was something humans had. Was he human once? He had no memory of it, it was always like this after all. Just a metal shell wandering this lonely dark world.

He still felt tired, maybe he could power down for a little while to get some rest. He had to find this person, but he could find them when he came back on. He crawled up with a small mound of dirt for a pillow and hugged himself as he hummed a small song. He couldn’t remember that well where he heard it but he felt comfortable from hearing it. He started powering off slowly as voice spoke up again saying “Reserve power 0.9%, AI chip 99.7% compromised.” Ortiz thought he could find the voice and the person he was looking for when he woke up. “good night.” he said as he powered off waiting to wake up again.

“Reserve power 0.1%, AI chip comprimised 99.9%”

stairs, Lance could do stairs. They aren’t that hard, he has been walking for like a month now, stairs would be no problem. If he falls and breaks something, Font can fix it! Yeah! Lance’s foot shakily makes contact to the first step. It’s spring time. Spring cleaning time, he had already cleaned out the whole downstairs, he only had one more section to clean, the up stairs. Their just was one struggle there, the vertical incline to get up there. He slowly makes the next step and panic ensues, this is the highest he has been up in a long time. he should turn around give up, let it be the pigsty his guests had left it. No, that’s not the Lance way, not the Winchester way. Another slow step and another fast breath, and another and so forth. Lance smiles as he sees the 2nd floor, he can remember Charo coming down these steps with the “body.” Oh man Charo his first guest, his first friend in this fucked up town. He sees several beds most disheveled, left disgusting after the other blood Gulch members got houses. He sees a awfully disgusting one, which smelled even worse than it looked “oh Mushroom.” he looks at a torn up, lumpy mattress. As he slowly stumbles over to it. Lance slowly gets down on his knees and puts his hands in. Pulling out MOUNTAINS of cocaine in baggies. “God damn it. Ortiz.” Lance huffs and covers his head, pushing the hair out of his face. When he uncovers his eyes he sees a box still stuffed inside of the cushion of the mattress covered in dirty christmas wrapping. Lance fights to rip it out of the bed. He gets it out and reads the tag in the Top. “Happy birthday, Lance :)” lance slowly unwraps the box and looks inside and sees a splintered, shattered arrow, a picture of blood Gulch and a small almost replica of blood Gulch and a note. Lance quickly scrambles to read the note. “Lance I leave you this letter because after everything you have done for me I owe you that much… things have just become too difficult for me and I don’t know if it is a good idea for me to stay here because I am not sure who i really am anymore. Every day and night I hear that voice in my head and see his, my, face covered in blood. I don’t know what is real and what is some nightmare that he wants me to see. I am scared of it because I fear that I might hurt you, that I might hurt others around you and I won’t know if what I did actually killed someone or just imagined it. I packed all my things and am leaving so by the time you are reading this I could be anywhere, I don’t know where myself but I can’t risk him getting into my head and having you follow us so you can be killed while I watch powerlessly. I left you some things to remember me by. An arrow, a picture, and the mini canyon you asked for back in the canyon. I don’t know if I will return or ever see you again so goodbye lance, thank you for everything. PS: sorry it took so long to make it, I first made it out of candy… and then I ate it, tried a second but I ate that one too before I remembered it was cardboard and I just felt too sick from that to make a third for a while.”

“Oh Ortiz I wish you are okay. You were such a good friend. I wish I didn’t waste my time with you.” Lance shakes his head tears coming from his eyes. Lance desperately tries to stop from flooding the paper with his tears to no avail. It won’t do major damage just stain it. He wipes his tears and composes himself as he gathers the things and puts them back in the box. “don’t worry you dork I’ll find you this only helps inspire me to find you… I will.”

It had been a long day, the regulars had filed out as they usually did at the end of the night, and it left Quarters feeling... Not only tired, but unfulfilled. Something wasn't working for him in this place, something that he couldn't put a finger on. Yes, he enjoyed the thrill of combat, but did he want to return to it? Not at all. But his life was missing something to keep it interesting. Something that was just for him, and he needed to find that something again.

And so, he found himself wandering the streets in the early morning hours, not wanting to return home until he found himself something to give him a purpose beyond just a father and a husband.

Static

Come on Agent Brighton, have fun Agent Brighton, Your always being such a square

We’d like to take you to the mess hall, but you won’t leave the training room floor.

We want to bring you the lab to build guns, but you’re obsessed with the leader board. Brighton.

Why don’t you give us a break, why do you make it so hard to work with you!

We’ll do what you say, but could you please stop kicking us.

[Drums]

Come on Agent Brighton, have fun Agent Brighton, Your always being such a square

Come on Agent Brighton, let’s go Agent Brighton

We’ll leave this place, get back to space.

And start a different mission, and you’ll become Bright Eyes.

[Drums]

Maybe we could hit an Innie, or go down and check out the gym.

We could stay on board and grumble, and play a little Heroes of War

Oh Ya

We know you want to kick ass, we know your dying to rip that Phoenix to pieces.

But both of us know, you’d have him on his knees.

[Guitar, long]

Come on Agent Brighton, have fun Agent Brighton, Your always being such a square

Come on Agent Brighton, let’s go Agent Brighton

We’ll leave this place, get back to space.

And start a different mission, and you’ll become Bright Eyes.

Static

Petals got an email one morning. She had just gotten up and decided to scroll through them. There weren't many. But the one she saw made her very excited. Very excited indeed. So excited she almost forgot to get out of her pajamas before heading down to a local movie theatre

Clair stared down at her phone with a frown. It didn't make sense. None of this made sense. She simply didn't know what to do, nor, really felt like doing much to begin with. She let out a sigh.

"Celeste, since when did I have an uncle?"

A slightly disgruntled Cambria emerges from her room looking just a bit thinner than previously. Well, she would look thinner if 75% of her body wasn't metal. She hated her comatose states, but nobody could really figure out why she had them. Maybe it was all the metal. Maybe she was just really unlucky. Either way, she was awake now and cleaning a bit of the mess in her home, which was cleaner than it should've been only because Eliot Bishop had been staying there since the other Cambria had been... taken away. She might be back now, but that wouldn't make it any easier on him, so he stayed with the more metal version.

Cambria shuffled into the kitchen, grabbing a cup of coffee before heading to the workshop. Dozens of unfinished projects laid around, not all of them hers, she noticed. Bishop had been a bit busy. She sat at a desk, sketching out a plan for her new limbs.

For the first time in what felt like ages, the sign reading "Typeface Tech" flashed on, open for business.

The key to all great things is patience. It was a long time coming. Months of meticulous planning, of making connections. And now there were finally results. And with only the click of a button, the system went live.

A small notification popped up on devices all over Paradise with a small ding, seemingly without any way to be rid of the annoying popup without accepting the mysterious invitation. Following the link would lead to the promised website, what appeared to be a job board of sorts. The website seemed simple enough upon first glance. Contracts were routed through an anonymous source and, once approved, hosted on the front page. All one had to do was read over a posting, click accept, and further instructions would be sent to them.

OOC A few quick notes on how these posts are gonna work. I’d like to do one of these every few weeks, and there might be more or less jobs just depending on how much free time I have. This one is first come first serve but if everyone likes this format, I’ll try and do an open post eventually so everyone has a chance to participate and let me know if you missed this one. I'll try and keep note and make sure you can get in on the next post. But for this one, once a job is spoken for, it’ll be taken off the website and no one else can sign up for it. I’ll also try to have at least one special job each time available only for mercs. You’ll get a few MT for participating, but successfully completing your job will grant you bonus. It is possible to fail your assigned job.

Have a small job idea you’d like to post but don’t want to run a whole event? Comment applying for the “featured job posting” and I’ll include it next time I do another one of these posts. I’m happy to DM the job if you don’t want to, or I can just connect you with the player applying for the position. If OOC you have any job ideas that you think might be fun, shoot me a message on the discord. I’d definitely like more ideas on what you guys would like to see. Any feedback is much appreciated.

Another thing I’d like to note: keep in mind that these contracts could potentially have an impact on the working of the city and you’re encouraged to react! If someone’s contract involves assassinating an important figure, people are probably going to notice. If you accidentally blow up a building, it's going to pop up on the news. So feel free to expand on anything happening here in your own posts. Get creative! The “chat box” on the website "links" to the IC channel on the discord. Don’t be afraid to chat IC with other characters about this mysterious new website.

Wandering the alleys of Paradise is Julius Katz.

"Well that's there and this is here so..."

He is lost.

-Some time later.-

"Join the military they said... it'll be fun they said... serve your world they said..."

-Even more time later.-

And upset.

"What's the point of the map if it doesn't fucking tell me where anything is!"

Very, very upset.

It's the dead of night, the city is alive and bustling with both tourists and citizens. Far off on the outskirts of town though lay the marshes, nearly pitch black and unnavigable. It's a good thing Wiles and his robotic workers don't need lights to see, instead utilizing their built in night-vision. Upon a singular outcropping of rocks within the marsh sits Wiles, perched up on the peaks, his workers idling below. He waits for his special guest and possible business partner, Huxley. He sends out a text to the phone number given to him by the mysterious AI, simply stating,

"Let's talk."

The radio played softly, more people were going missing or ending up dead. Not just any people, but her people. There were rumours about elite soldiers in purple taking people from the streets… and Kaliska had half a mind to believe them. It had to stop. Her father wasn't the simple mechanic she'd made him out to be. He was someone far more important and far more ruthless. She still had sway, connections… she she planned on using them.

“Amore, are you sure you want to do this?” Henry had asked her when she first came to him with her pan, and she was sure she did. Slowly and secretly she planned, plotted and schemes. She built up her reputation, gaining favour with gang members who had sworn they'd be loyal… but had doubts in their leader.

He had been selfish.

He had been reckless

He was going to get them all killed.

She had to do something about it.

She picked up her phone and texted Henry. One codeword, that was all it took. Hephaestus whined at her feet, the dog knew far more than she thought he did. She smiled and gave him a pet as she patiently waited for news. God she hoped her plan had worked.

Her phone started to ring… or rather, not her phone. It was a burner she'd set up for gang business. She answered it immediately.

“It's done.” Henry said, and with that she sighed with relief.

“Spread the news, tell anyone who questions it that it was an assassination by the Bunny’s new leader. Plant what I gave you.” And with that she hung up. Her hands were shaking, breathing uneven.

Her father would be so proud of her.

But now she had more planning to do. The Rojas might recognize Henry as their leader, but select few knew the truth. Kaliska wasn't the naive girl she made herself out to be… and now she was taking advantage of that.

“Don't worry Heph, I'll make sure we're safe.” She said before shutting the radio off. Tomorrow news of Wickes death would be all over the news, the evidence pining it on the Bunny’s would play its part in keeping anyone off her tracks.

Just one more cog in her plan, it loved forward like a well oiled machine. Now all she had to do was fix the damn tank and the Rojas would be a force to reckon with once again and her name would be kept out of it.

Kali moved to the battered couch in her living room, laying on it and closing her eyes. For the first time in a very long time, she slept easy.

Same thing as the Canon Past RP except probably a total clusterfuck. Basically, you can interact with one another in any setting in the canon with any of your characters. So if you want your dead freelancer talking to a sim trooper in.. uhh, fuck it, Chorus, then go ahead. I'll just copy the rules from the canon post to hopefully keep this from being a complete catastrophe.

1. When you post a comment, make sure you put the character you are playing as in bold letters at the beginning of your comment (mods can't change your flair for a single post). 2. Give some background and a time period when you make your comment. For example, you can say “Three months after the sim troopers were moved out of Blood Gulch, Major Petrov set another tree on fire.”

Hopefully it's better than that, but you get the point. Have fun.

Deep within neutral territory and within an unassuming decrepit warehouse, Wiles and his drones are hard at work. Down on the factory floor the bots move to and fro, carrying large boxes of explosives and ammunition. Some of the others are carefully putting together handmade explosives, all of this being done within the dark, only the moonlight coming in from the windows to shine light on their activities. It was just as he wanted. They had no need for light with their built in night-vision. It would serve only to draw attention to their little compound. He surveys all of this from the catwalk above the factory floor, calling out to an bot every so often if he catches them doing something wrong. He says to nobody in particular,

“If only Pops could see me now. Only 27 and i’m already an manager of so many people. Next stop, king of Paradise.”

He gives an small chuckle at this, his bright red eyes flaring in the darkness. He stops as he’s suddenly overtaken with a strange feeling. There’s a gripping feeling in his chest as he turns to his left, looking at an section of the catwalk around 20 feet off. If anyone else saw this they surely would have proclaimed it to be ghosts, but he knew what it really was. A memory glitch. Standing there, looking exactly the same as she did all those years ago except now with a blue hue, was his mother. She wasn’t looking at him, instead she seemed to be looking off into the distance, through the warehouse and beyond. She had an small smile on her face, although it looked tired.

Wiles growled at the figure,

“You’re supposed to be dead. Leave me alone! I killed you!”

He grabs an knife from his sleeve, hurling it at her. It simply passes through, the hole regenerating nearly instantly. She doesn’t even seem to notice, but she does look in a different direction. Her smile brightens and she calls out,

“Nathan, time for lunch! Tell your friends you can play later!”

Wiles grabs at the side of his head, now violently shaking. He nearly screams,

“Stop it! Go away! You’re dead! I’m dead! Leave me alone! I’M WILES NOW!”

The figure dissipates into nothingness and within seconds, another takes her place. This time, it’s his father. He’s looking in Wiles’s direction, but not looking directly at him, more through him. He has an smile on his face when he says,

“Have an good time at Homecoming, nathan. Don’t stay up too late or you’ll worry your mom. See you later.”

Wiles lunges for the ghost, merely passing through it. He lets out a blood-curling scream, like some wild animal’s death screech. He falls to his knees, holding his head in-between his hands and shaking violently. He’s almost yelling to himself,

“YOU’RE ALL DEAD! I KILLED ALL OF YOU! WHY ARE YOU COMING BACK NOW?! LEAVE ME BE, DAMNIT! THIS ISN’T FUNNY!”

There’s one last hologram that appears before him. It’s Helen, the news girl he killed. It was when she first answered the door, an smile on her face.

“Oh, Wiles. Need something?”

She soon dissipates as well, leaving him alone on the catwalk once again. So, this is how it was going to go. He knew what seeing these meant. He was degrading, crumbling. It was one of the first steps before an AI started to descend into rampancy. Memory degradation. He didn’t have long until he’d be fully gone, an shell of what he was now. He had to speed up his work, he can’t let the city win. This is one big game, one he has no intention of losing. He has to win, he has to see Paradise fall. He rises to his feet, yelling out to his workers,

“DOUBLE TIME IT! I WANT THIS ALL FINISHED BY TOMORROW EVENING!”

The robots do as they’re told, kicking it into high gear. Meanwhile, Wiles leans onto the railing above, looking over them as they go about their business. As he watches them work, one thought echoes throughout his cold mind.

”I have to win. I have to kill them all. That’s the only way this can end.”

Welcome to the Vegas Quadrant, the mystical land of Red vs. Blue that our favorite hero in maroon was so adamant about avoiding. This is a roleplaying game that takes place approximately five years after the events at the end of Season 13 and is meant to be an opportunity to allow all the different types of characters the RvB universe has created to come together in a single location. Let’s get started with a general overview of where and with whom we’re playing!

The City of Paradise: Paradise is broken into three main sections; Rojas territory, neutral or contested territory, and the Rabbit Hole.

Rojas Territories: The Rojas have successfully eliminated their previous rival gang and now control the entire eastern portion and some of the western portion of the city.

Neutral/Contested Territory: Generally the middle class and richer areas of the city, which are able to hire mercenaries to keep the gangs at bay.

The Rabbit Hole: The main and most important part of the city. The Rabbit Hole is technically a single, massive club, but it is well known for providing nearly any service one could imagine. It and the surrounding area are directly controlled by the club’s owner, known only as Mama Bunny. She pulls the strings in the cities and is the one to go to with information or to request missions.

The Factions: There are several factions in the city. You are not required to join one, but it is strongly encouraged, as many missions, upgrades, or other perks will only be available to certain factions.The current factions are as follows:

The Rojas: The rival gang to the Azures (now eliminated), which controls the east side of the city. While the Rojas don’t tend to run into too much outside trouble, their constant squabbles within their ranks and their tendency to attempt grandiose plans without doing any actual planning keep them from being able to fully take advantage of the Azure’s bad luck. Neutral areas help the Rojas at a much higher price, but their members are generally safer.

The Merchants: Business owners, traders, bartenders, or any other workers outside of the Rabbit Hole. Merchants have a good level of control over the flow of resources and can tip a turf war or a mission in one direction or the other by providing or withholding those resources. Merchants in gang-controlled areas are not allowed to provide resources to rival gangs (if they do, the gang in control will be alerted and allowed to take action). Merchants in neutral areas can choose whether to provide resources or not, but if they do they must generally give the Azures preference.

The Mercenaries: Bounty hunters, freelance soldiers, bodyguards, and anyone else who makes a living off of violence. Mercs can be hired by any other faction if that faction has the demanded resources, or can trade favors for their services. They can be used on either side in gang turf wars if an agreement is reached between the gang and the Mercs, but they must give the Rojas general preference.

Neutral: Paradise is a large city, so there's bound to be people that don't exactly mesh with any one side. They're the everyday citizens of Paradise that are just minding their own business, trying not to get caught up in the crossfire.....or trying to.

The Bunnies: Workers of the Rabbit Hole. These members are given preference and protection throughout the city, but are required to report directly to the Mama. They are her eyes and ears, and keep her up to date on everything happening within the city and the factions. This is an invitation-only faction.

Regardless of which faction you choose, you will have the opportunity to gain influence, power, and resources. Regular players who ‘play nice’ – that is, follow the rules of the sub and make an effort to participate in interactions rather than overrunning them – will gain leadership positions within their factions or be invited to join the Bunnies. You can still be invited to join the Bunnies if you go factionless, but be warned – you cannot gain a position in a faction you aren’t in (duh) and your safety will be significantly compromised.

Character Creation Rules:

Your character must come from the RvB universe. This shouldn’t be limiting! The Red vs Bluniverse is huge! You can be an AI, an ex-simulation trooper, a Project Freelancer reject, a Chorus survivor, you name it! As long as it exists within RvB, you can make it into a character.

No playing as actual RvB characters. Any character with a name is off-limits. Yes, that goes all the way down to Matthews. BUT, we’re allowing connections to main characters. Nothing too major – you can’t be Washington’s long-lost love interest – but if you were a Chorus soldier, then you probably are going to have some memories of working with the Reds and Blues.

No overpowering. This one is a little tricky in a world this open. Yes, someone who was training to be a Freelancer is going to be much stronger and faster than an ex-simulation trooper. But balance your character out. Maybe he’s super afraid of hand puppets and gets stopped in his tracks when his target pulls one out.

Bring in your old characters! Want to explore what would happen if your PFRP, BGRP, or RvBRP character survived all the craziness and ended up in the Vegas Quadrant? Do it! Bring them in! (Just make sure they are, in fact, your characters. No stealing other people's characters without their explicit permission.)

Only one alternate account per person. Anyone found with more than two accounts will have all of their accounts removed. You must let us know when making an alternate account which account is your main. Your two characters cannot interact in a way that gives one or both more power (such as making deals to acquire weapons, money, standing, etc). With the faction system, it makes it too easy for one person to gain too much power otherwise.

That's about it! Make a post with your character's name, desired faction, and a brief description and we'll get you all set up!

UPDATE: Please also read the new rules about the economy and AI roleplay here

Signs were posted all over the city Free Demolition Lessons for any who want.

Address is written on the bottom

Polade connected the last wire and stepped back. The neon lights lit up, a bright arrow pointing at the buzzer for the gate. It wasn't the most aesthetic decision, but maybe now people would stop busting the gate to the junkyard down. I mean seriously, that stuff' s hard to replace. Do you know how many places carry "distressed" gates? Not many.