Scarlet.Ibara
One Time Luck
Scarlet.Ibara submitted a new role play:
Emban-ic Plague - Brainwashed, broken, Embanic; the world torn apart by one all-powerful company.
A grey dreary sidewalk reflects the day, people shuffle along silently. White government vehicles roll lazily along the otherwise empty streets. Lightning flashes, lighting up the faces of those passing. Guards clad in all white, with black helmets and matching guns stand on every street corner, at crisp attention; a grim sight. Doors to street-side businesses open and close, all marked with the same stamp on the glass door; EMBAN Industries. Each building differs on its purpose; grocery, clothing stores filled with monotone shirts, pants, and skirts, a bakery here, a learning facility there, and scattered with posters and billboards advertising the latest technology that nobody could afford. There is no color among the people walking on the sidewalks. There are no smiles. There are no children, no laughter, no signs of life except for the rolling fog from the lips of cold citizens on their different ways.
A yelp echoes through the streets; a man breaks the crowd, dressed in a bright green shirt with his black pants. His black jacket has been torn away, revealing the rulebreaker for wearing an outlawed color. His running is much to slow for the guard's gun. A snap, a thud, a burst of red against a brick wall. A body is dragged away, life continues.
A woman perched atop the clock tower watches it all, surrounded by bodies of guards doused in sticky drying blood, the same blood dripping from a diamond blade in her hand. A smile crosses her full lips.
"Let's paint the town red, boys..."
Emban-ic Plague - Brainwashed, broken, Embanic; the world torn apart by one all-powerful company.
First post:
A grey dreary sidewalk reflects the day, people shuffle along silently. White government vehicles roll lazily along the otherwise empty streets. Lightning flashes, lighting up the faces of those passing. Guards clad in all white, with black helmets and matching guns stand on every street corner, at crisp attention; a grim sight. Doors to street-side businesses open and close, all marked with the same stamp on the glass door; EMBAN Industries. Each building differs on its purpose; grocery, clothing stores filled with monotone shirts, pants, and skirts, a bakery here, a learning facility there, and scattered with posters and billboards advertising the latest technology that nobody could afford. There is no color among the people walking on the sidewalks. There are no smiles. There are no children, no laughter, no signs of life except for the rolling fog from the lips of cold citizens on their different ways.
A yelp echoes through the streets; a man breaks the crowd, dressed in a bright green shirt with his black pants. His black jacket has been torn away, revealing the rulebreaker for wearing an outlawed color. His running is much to slow for the guard's gun. A snap, a thud, a burst of red against a brick wall. A body is dragged away, life continues.
A woman perched atop the clock tower watches it all, surrounded by bodies of guards doused in sticky drying blood, the same blood dripping from a diamond blade in her hand. A smile crosses her full lips.
"Let's paint the town red, boys..."
