Then.
In the year 2012, there was worldwide nuclear war. North America was largely destroyed, leaving only the north intact as a wintery wasteland. Central and South America descended into chaos and civil war. They are now only known as the Wilds.
Thousands and thousands of miles of nuclear wasteland on one side and contaminated ocean on the other surround and isolate Europe. As far as anyone knew, that was all that was left of society, and it was a lawless world full of thievery and savagery. There was not enough food or comforts, not enough hope, and people--changed and mutated by the radioactivity of the very earth, air, water, world around them--grew desperate. Many were still dying because of mutations, or many were being killed and eaten. It was bleak, and humans as a species were rapidly decreasing in number.
Then came Madigan Channing. She forced people to work together instead of against. She forced them to construct a town and she forced them to begin farming and hunting and sharing. She, like many others, had been mutated, but hers was of a powerful, mental variety, with an odd physical side effect. She could control other people with her mind, and she did not appear to age.
Over a hundred and fifty years passed. Madigan spent the time collecting survivors, building a city, and governing this new society with an iron fist. She gathered those left with knowledge from before--doctors, scientists, inventors, architects, teachers, farmers, mechanics, lawyers, any and all specialists--and forced development and growth. This small microcosm of a world grew and flourished, far beyond anything ‘modern man’ before the nuclear doomsday could have imagined.
Now.
Madigan Channing still lives, ageless, timeless, un-challenged, un-opposed.
Mutants are ranked based on ability and usefulness. Mutations which inhibit a person promptly put them at the bottom of the food chain, about even with those who somehow don’t have any mutations at all. If they’re lucky, they live as slaves, serving those higher up the societal ladder, or perhaps are gifted jobs of manual, menial labour, servicing those higher in stature than themselves. If they aren’t...
The seedy underbelly of the city, located literally beneath the streets in the no longer used subway tunnels, simultaneously welcomes and threatens all with grimy, grabbing arms. A pulsing sex trade and an intricate and dangerous web of drug cookers and distributors waits to suck in the weak, or even steal in the strong. Elite women are worth an exceptional value to those with the contacts and the guts to risk trade between cities.
Above ground, women are unanimously recognized as the superior gender, and pandered to as such. There are always competitions going on, and girls of all ages often spend their days doing nothing but challenging others for positions of acclaim, battling one mutant ability against another. Every so often, Madigan Channing welcomes a new girl into her council, trains her, and delegates duties to her. Madigan does very little now, having grown comfortable in her reign, and her children, all chosen and none biological, run her lands for her. In return, they are treated almost as royalty, and are the definite celebrities of the time.
Technology has advanced to levels of hover cars, high speed sidewalks, and 3D televisions; fashion and entertainment has risen to shocking and dazzling new heights; and yet still, the lows are seemingly bottomless. Human freakshows, while illegal, thrive, and the business of catering to new and outrageous fetishes is incredibly profitable.
Times are, at the very least, interesting. One never knows what might happen.
Are you ready to try your hand? Apply now.
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