Roleplayers Unite

Premise

You are alone. Your people are alone.

Sometimes greed goes too far, it's even worse when that greed has access to technology they don't have a grasp of yet, it's even worse when that greed has magic they have no grasp of.

The year was 2374 and everything should have been fine. The Sol system had long been fighting with itself. Who had the right to roam freely? Who had the right to technology? Who did space belong to? Unfortunately, someone finally decided they were going to take what they wanted. The only problem? They weren't ready for the deck of cards they were about to draw.

There was an explosion, no one could explain it. No one can explain it even now.

Nearly 300 years later, it was 2672.
Cities were refounded, governments fell apart to be rebuilt at a local level, there was no possibility to travel beyond the asteroid belt any more. Say bye bye to hundreds of years of work to make a few of the moons and asteroids around Jupiter and Saturn habitable. Forget it. Donezo. Over with. Cancelled.

Those who survived were irreparably changed. But not just changed, tossed far into the future, ripples surrounding them as they stood on ground they once lived on - now long abandoned, a shimmer of light in the distance where a singular building had survived, thrived. And it wasn't just them either, there were new faces - other faces, new memories. But they'd survive again, they had to.

Now it's 2673...
People, now called Arrivals by most, have been around for over a year and things have started getting hinky again. Turns out that whatever made the wastelands may have had some power behind it. Might not want to touch it if you're a mutant or a mage. Then there's the mayor and his eerie underground bunker. Oh, and what about the people out in the woods? Turns out they may be more familiar than we all originally thought...

Premise

You are alone. Your people are alone.

Sometimes greed goes too far, it's even worse when that greed has access to technology they don't have a grasp of yet, it's even worse when that greed has magic they have no grasp of.

The year was 2374 and everything should have been fine. The Sol system had long been fighting with itself. Who had the right to roam freely? Who had the right to technology? Who did space belong to? Unfortunately, someone finally decided they were going to take what they wanted. The only problem? They weren't ready for the deck of cards they were about to draw.

There was an explosion, no one could explain it. No one can explain it even now.

Nearly 300 years later, it's 2672.
Cities were refounded, governments fell apart to be rebuilt at a local level, there was no possibility to travel beyond the asteroid belt any more. Say bye bye to hundreds of years of work to make a few of the moons and asteroids around Jupiter and Saturn habitable. Forget it. Donezo. Over with. Cancelled.

Those who survived were irreparably changed. But not just changed, tossed far into the future, ripples surrounding them as they stood on ground they once lived on - now long abandoned, a shimmer of light in the distance where a singular building had survived, thrived. And it wasn't just them either, there were new faces - other faces, new memories. But they'd survive again, they had to.

Welcome to the era of scavengers. Welcome to the age of mercenaries. Welcome to the period of every damn man for themself.

Does your cell phone work? Sure. Do you really want to risk crossing the desert that now is the mid-west to go on a little vacation to Malibu? Maybe freaking not.