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Realistic or Modern Small Town Crime ー The Last Stop (IC) [CLOSED]

Meimo

「Weeaboo Extraordinaire — Classification: BORED」
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Re: Our Agreement
Expect the shipment of our invaluables— the ones you supposedly seek to 'reform'— to arrive on your doorstep within the bounds of this week alongside yours truly and entourage; have those bottom feeders of your prepare a meal for our test subjects as we thought to grant them nothing.

Don't bother tending to me, I don't desire to steep my refined self so low as to find grace in futile people so stuck in the past.

Single-file line, my yet valuable scum—
This is the
last stop.


T H E - B A C K G R O U N D A closely knit, kindhearted town teeters on its last leg— frozen in a simpler time long forgotten by a world rooting itself in dystopia— finds the unwelcome company of their criminals in a written arrangement their Mayor told none about; something about reforming the cities' minor offenders so the rumor goes. Can the city withstand the additional weight when their town is already on an unspoken decline into oblivion—?

—Or will Humanity's final hope for prosperity perish at the hands of a cruel fate?
You can find our CS here: Clickety clack here!
Available roles for Townsfolk, Prisoners, and Rehab Agents will be found there.


You can find our Playable* Background Characters here: Bap here!
*A character meant as a means to an end, without story and a simple personality to act out as you— say— buy some to-go grub.


Nature's last bastion... And nowー humanity's last stop, a last chance for change before the abyss. Cradled tightly by Mother nature's mountainous hands, her stone fingers like skyscrapers of man that scrape the sky of light, a town of evident Asian heritage calls itself home to an estimated 115 people; some by birth and some by choice. Once upon a more pleasant time, neon signs beckoned into fallen dark for whimsical outsiders and a hot spring that clearly came from burnt pockets saw its fair share of Instagram postsー but those days have long since passed.

Though, for a stubborn some, signs still hang in their ever present decay, acting as a realization of their town-wide, unspokenーalmost tabooー sense of futility; light suffocated by the forest of trees that flourish in nature's deliberate affection towardーwhat was now ーthe last of the children she once found to be so endearing.
 
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