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Thread: Enigma's Journal of Miscellanea

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    Default Enigma's Journal of Miscellanea



    RPA and Enigma not responsible for any mental damage that may occur in this thread.


    Proceed with caution.
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    Roleplay Concept: H-Block

    Setting: Resettlement Block/Individual Units. Building is shaped like the letter "H", with the legs containing individual apartment units that are precast 10' concrete cubes. The central cross-member has the two building elevators and vending machines. Stairwells are located on each end of the legs.

    Four units in the middle of each leg segment are public toilets / shower stalls, with the inside units marked for female use, and the outside units marked for male use.

    Each cube contains:
    • Light switch by the door that controls the overhead light in the middle of the ceiling.
    • A modest-sized heating/ac unit in a slot built over the central windows. On the right-hand side of the window is the thermostat.
    • Two power outlet in the center of the side walls and door wall.
    • Wifi is built in, but there's also a small outlet for a network cable next to the power outlet on the door wall.


    Only the bathroom cubes have plumbing.

    Bottom floor contains the reception office on one side, with store rooms and a small workshop. On the other side is a laundry room and large common room with couches, games, and better vending machines. In between the elevators are the mailboxes and package lockers.

    Scenarios:

    1. Following a natural disaster/meteor crash, characters get evacuated to emergency shelters. With families getting priority, they are moved out to larger apartment units. To provide for the individuals, a number of low-rent basic apartments are built. Each person receives a cheap smartphone that acts as their cyber-wallet for purchases and allows them to check their status with the Emergency Management Agency.

    However, the residents have drawn the short straw and have moved into the last H-block to be built, so furniture is in short supply, so it's what they can salvage and make do with the emergency funds they've got.

    What they don't know, is that what wiped out the town wasn't a meteor, but an alien spaceship - and there are two survivors who are now in the H-Block with them.

    Casting: Two players to play the alien survivors (Special Instruction)

    2. Low Rent Dorms set up for individual occupancy.
    Last edited by Enigma; 03-12-2019 at 07:08 AM.
    Spoiler: ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ √Ăłł Єѵïł ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ 

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    Reborn (Rough Draft)

    I died, screaming....



    ...and found myself strapped down in a chair, staring at this thin man wearing a lab coat, smiling nervously while clamping a pair of industrial earmuffs against his skull with his hands.

    "Are you done yet?" he asked, loudly.

    The pain was gone. I was.... where the hell? Some kind of lab? I was strapped to some kind of padded chair, but with my head restrained I couldn't see much.

    Gingerly, the man lifted the left earmuff cuff and sighed with relief, taking them off.

    "Well," he said, snagging a stool and plopping down in front of me, "I bet you've got some questions. First of all, that wasn't a dream. You died. Very violently, I suspect, sorry about that. And now you're here."

    He waved his left arm towards the side of the room.

    "For that, you can thank the guy up there," he pointed. He winced, nodded towards the ceiling.

    I looked - and the ceiling moved, some sort of hanging lump of whiteness that blinked at me curiously.


    "You were one of several 'test subjects'," he said, making air quotations, "who were implanted with a special virus. It was like a cold, you were mildly miserable for several days, and then you were fine - except your body was, well, taken over or rather colonized. Everything about you was, well, broadcast on special frequencies to the M'hrg, right up to the moment of death. And now you're back, implanted into a fresh body."

    "Whhh," I managed to rasp out.

    "Oh, good! Talking! Yes, you're a bit out of practice," he smiled, leaning eagerly forward. "Keep at it!"

    "Whhh. Whhhha? Whhhaay? Whhhhy...?"


    The smile fell away from his face and he leaned back. While his head didn't look up, his eyes did.

    "I don't know," he admitted. "The M'hrg haven't told us yet. Still, you're alive again! In a brand new body! That's something, right?"

    The smile he wore now look forced. I wondered it it was for me, or the lump looking down from the ceiling?
    Spoiler: ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ √Ăłł Єѵïł ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ 

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    RPG Concept - Crashlanded


    Premise: It was just suddenly there, racing past the ISS as it fell into the atmosphere, taking a few satellites with it.

    It flew over the US, Central America, and just before crashing into Eastern Island in the Midway Island Atoll group made a sudden attempt to slow down before it hit the tiny island, throwing dust and sand everywhere.

    Except meteors don't try to slow down. What was in that shallow crater slowly filling with water was an alien spaceship.

    As Midway is a protected wildlife reserve in the middle of the Pacific now closed to the public, it was easy enough to secure the site. The retired airfield made it a handy location to fly in troops while ships of the Pacific battle group cordoned off the island under the pretext of wargame exercises.

    The DOD has decided to scramble in a team to go into the ship - with a last minute addition of a Department of Homeland Security agent and his prisoner.


    Scenario: Players are given hazmat suits and are sent in to investigate the interior of the ship to look for survivors and to salvage what they can.

    Casting:
    • Homeland Security Agent (with special instructions)
    • Prisoner (with special instructions)
    • Entry detail (as many players as needed)
    Last edited by Enigma; 03-12-2019 at 07:07 AM.
    Spoiler: ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ √Ăłł Єѵïł ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ 

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    RPG Concept - Escaped!


    Premise: Earth has been invaded, and you have been enslaved by reptiliods. Founding to be more or less in good health with easily corrected health issues, you and your fellow humans are spared from the culling and are loaded into a transport on your way to the mines, where you will work until you drop.

    Those deemed useless are simply killed, and their bodies harvested.

    Except half-way towards the mines, the slaver comes out of warp because there's a ship drifting alone in space, of a design unknown to the reptiliods, but unmistakably very advanced. However, the ship is fending off the shuttle that has the prize crew aboard, including most of the guards of the ship. They attempt to use an unmanned decoy shuttle, but the ship's deflectors ignores it completely.

    So the Captain tries a little gamble. Not having sufficient crew on board to risk, he's loaded you and a few others into the second shuttle to draw the other ship's attention so the guard's shuttle has a chance to board. Of course, you're all shackled so you can't do anything but sit there. However, in the first approach, a deflector hit causes a power surge aboard the shuttle, and the shackles burn out....
    Spoiler: ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ √Ăłł Єѵïł ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ 

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    RPG Concept - Midnight City

    Premise: An ancient crater, cloaked in darkness, surrounded by ancient stone walls and the more modern walls of the Outer City, shielding it like the scar tissue around a puckered wound in the Earth and mostly forgotten, never appearing on any map.

    Some say it's the resting place of an ancient god.

    Some say it was the summoned heart of a fallen star.

    Whatever happened, it left a crater shrouded in perpetual midnight, underneath a rift in space and time.

    A place of power. It has many names - The Watching Dark, the Hidden Quarter, Midnight City.

    Only those who are incredibly lost or have guidance can find it - you couldn't tell by the mob that throng the center, drifting among the market stalls and clubs that lit the night. But the crowd is more than human - one could easily finding themselves brushing elbows with the fae, demons, aliens, even the occasional god - all drawn by the power of this place.

    And at the heart of it all sits a pub, The Rose and The Anvil, kept in perpetuity by descendants of a single family. Usually the patrons are locals - while nobody has ever been turned away if they behave themselves, it's a mark of acceptance when they make a place for you. The curious can venture into the pub cellar - however nobody but the family ever comes back up. And they never venture down until the screaming has stopped for a while.

    Along the outer sections you'll find the homes - mansions for the wealthy, homes and apartments for those who have no better place to go, factories that make the various products found in the market stalls. At least, those things that didn't fall from the rift.

    You can also find the gates, each linked to a gate somewhere else. And sometimes, somewhen else. The Cemetery gate, for example, is well known but not a place to linger. At least, not for the living.


    Welcome to Midnight City.
    Last edited by Enigma; 03-16-2019 at 03:15 AM.
    Spoiler: ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ √Ăłł Єѵïł ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ 

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    RPG Concept: Doyle Academy

    Setting: A former sanitarium, Doyle Academy is situated on Cobb Island, in the middle of the Supporam River, just upstream from the small coastal fishing village of North Yorkdale. High cliffs ring the island and the strong current makes landing safely impossible except downstream on the southeastern edge of the island the tiny beach has been fenced off and there are guards posted.

    Doyle Academy occupies the center of the island, and is laid out like a small college. Grassy lawns, trees, dorms, classrooms, a library, student union, and a cafeteria. The school appears to be set up to avoid many outside distractions, thanks to a lack of cell phone towers. Wifi is available, but there is no Internet, just the Academy's intranet. It does, however, relay the news of the outside world as well as local news. (Rumors suggest that a landline and Internet is available in the Academy President's office.)

    There are no set class times - students decide what it is they wish to learn, and get directed to a classroom where an instructor is waiting for them. The age range of the students is anywhere between 13 and 70.

    The Office of the Physical Plant, located on the other end of the island, provides each building with water and power through underground maintenance tunnels (with security monitoring). What few are aware of is their power comes from a nuclear battery the size of a refrigerator.

    Premise: Doyle Academy is a classified government facility. Almost everyone working for the school has a clearance. The student body are either government employees, people in protective custody - or prisoners who can't be held in any normal facility (but deemed not to be a danger to themselves or others - mostly).

    Or among themselves, the hunters and the hunted.

    And you're the latest arrival - but are you another hunter, or the hunted?

    Only the government employees arrive here conscious.

    Requirements: Layout of the island, staff profiles.
    Last edited by Enigma; 09-16-2019 at 05:16 AM.
    Spoiler: ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ √Ăłł Єѵïł ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ 

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    RPG Concept: Oops!


    Setting: Human Refugee Camp on Crechorus V


    Premise: Massive extraterrestrial spaceships suddenly warp into the Solar system, slip into Earth orbit and begin wholesale transport up humans, pets, livestock, a representative selection of wild animals, and all available foodstocks. In the transport holds, Humanity is told that this is a galactic emergency evacuation team, they've been sent to rescue Humanity from a pending disaster. Only they're a little vague on just what the disaster is.


    Within a week, humanity has been scattered to hundreds of refugee camps across the Western Spiral Arm of the galaxy, while monitoring satellites continue to report back on Earth conditions.


    Six weeks later, as nothing has continued to happen, the aliens begin looking into the alert - only to discover the whole thing was a prank. Rather than admit to it, they announce complete success to rescuing Humanity and promptly forget about it, as returning humanity back to Earth would raise too many questions. (If pressed, they now claim to have rescued Humanity from itself, quarantining the Earth as needing significant recovery time from runaway industrialization.)


    Meanwhile, you, as a refugee human, have received brain-training in four of the six trade languages used universally (Spoken, written, signed, danced, but not colors since you cannot control fluorescing skin pigmentation or smells), an omni (that acts as communications, personal training device, guide book, identification and eWallet), and a modest weekly compensation payment to cover the loss of your world. Who's up to exploring?


    Requirements:
    Some alien races.
    Last edited by Enigma; 09-20-2019 at 03:58 AM.
    Spoiler: ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ √Ăłł Єѵïł ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ 

  9. #9
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    The general and I were just talking on my back porch when the gold and silver saucer appeared, hovering for a brief moment before landing, legs coming out in a smooth ballet of motion that told me that the operator was using the very expensive auto-park feature as it settled onto the ground. It then shimmered and turned glassy as tiny cameras on one side displayed a pixel on the opposite side. Anyone looking straight down would see a circular shadow and not what was casting it.


    “And,” the general drawled, putting down his coffee, “I suppose you have a reasonable explanation for all of this?”
    “Ah,” I managed, as a hatch opened up, looking like a hole into some strange factory, and a tiny figure bolted from inside, heading directly for me.
    “Ig!” it cried, just before it flung itself at me, landing on my chest.


    Oh god, it was Reg.


    “Uh, Reg, now is not…”
    “You gotta hide me! Please! Just for a few days!”
    “Hide you?” the General and I chorused. For a brief moment, I wondered if I should call jinx on him, but he didn’t look like he was in the mood.
    “Who’s that?” Reg demanded, leaning away to stare at my other visitor. His eyes narrowed. “It’s a native… did you get a butler?”


    Oh god, I almost lost it as the general turned red, looking ready to throw a fit.


    “Reg, that is General [REDACTED]. He came to see me about some technical issues his satellites have when they fly over…”
    “Does he want a bribe?” Reg asked out of the side of his mouth in the worse stage whisper ever. I wanted to bury my face in my hands, if they weren’t immediately occupied with holding onto a small alien in a space suit.


    “Reg…!” I whined, but he’d already had pulled out several diamond discs which he tossed towards the general. [REDACTED] had great reflexes for a man of his age, he caught a few of them.


    “What is this?” he demanded, puffing up again.
    “Money,” I shrugged. “It lasts a really long time.”
    “And it’s shiny!” Reg smiled, nodding his head. “Natives like shiny coins, yes? Ooooh, shiny!”
    “Reg, you are not helping! What are you doing here?”
    “Ah, I need a place to crash for a few days. I can take the couch if he’s got the guest room….”
    “He does not have the guest room!”
    “So I can have it?” Reg asked, looking up at me hopefully with those oversize eyes of his.
    “WHAT,” I yelled, then caught hold of myself, “are you doing here, Reg?”
    “Bell’s angry at me again.”


    I froze, staring down at the tiny alien, who hung his head. I began swearing.


    “Who is this ‘Bell’,” General [REDACTED] demanded, as a sudden shadow enveloped the house and the yard. Overhead was a much larger purple and gold saucer, flanked by red security ships with very nasty weapons, some of which were pointed directly at us.


    “Ah,” I managed, swallowing. “General, may I introduce his Majesty, Prince Reginald, consort of Empress Bellaflorina De La Prefacia Dolsea Fra?”
    “Ah,” General [REDACTED] said, looking up as the purple and gold saucer began to descend. “Is… is this an invasion?”
    “No,” I winced as one of the saucer feet crashed through the roof of my detached garage. “This is where a friend of the family is being imposed on to hear both sides of an argument and tell the both of them that the other is completely wrong and they are completely right.”


    “Oh. So, it’s a delicate domestic issue,” the general said slowly. “Does this happen a lot?”
    “Often enough.”


    “Do you do appointments?”
    Last edited by Enigma; 06-17-2020 at 03:51 PM.
    Spoiler: ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ √Ăłł Єѵïł ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ 

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