Eyes in the Black: Firefly RP was an RP based on the Joss Wheldon universe and was created and GM'd by Sythe. It was created in February 2008.
- Out of Character Thread
- In Character Thread
- Never Finished
"Here's how it is. The Earth got used up. We found a new solar system and hundreds of new Earths were terra-formed and colonized. The central planets formed the Alliance and decided all the planets had to join under their rule. There was some disagreement on that point...
After the War for Unification, many Independents - those who fought and lost - drifted to the edges of the system, far from Alliance control. Out here people survived to get by with the most basic of technologies: A ship would bring you work, a gun would help you keep it
A captain's goal was simple: Find a crew. Find a job. Keep flyin'. "
Life is never as simple as it's written about.
Not every person who fought for the Independents is some big damn hero, a guns-blazing-hootin'-hollarin' guardian of every thing decent and shiny in the 'Verse.
Nor is every Coreworlder just another cog in the system, one more wu ming shao jwu drone chompin' at the bit to sell their freedom for security.
But there certainly are enough of both to make the stereotypes stick.
If one were real dead-set like on making some kind of division of all the peoples of the 'verse, it would be as so; The Haves, the Have somes, and the Have nots.
The Haves are those types that live on the Core worlds, the central planets that first formed the Alliance. On the Earth-That-Was, it was the Core worlds that our ancestors thought their future would look like. The majority of traffic hovers or flies, impossibly tall buildings made of glass an' steel, with 'bots being common sights and everybody sussed up all fancy like. Those from the Core can be further divided into two categories; the grunts and the nobles. The grunts are all the little cogs in the Core, doing the jobs such as soldierly work, workers, servants and the like. The nobles are all those born with a silver spoon in their mouths and coin in their pockets. Fillin' the ranks of the Merchants, Ministers and anyone else important in the Core, these are the high falautin' gentlemen with golden swords on their hip and pretty little witches in colourful-like layer-cake dresses that run the 'Verse.
The Have somes are the ones that fill the Border planets, the worlds that lay just outside the Alliance's constant watch, separating the Core from the Rim. To be put in Earth-That-Was terms, much of the cities and towns of the Border planets could be best described as "cyberpunk", a right crazy mix of high technology and low living. Horses jostle hovermules in the streets, a street vendor sells pretzels in front of a space-port, and the like. Much of the dirty dealings and underworld-natured happenings in the 'Verse are concluded on the Border planets, a mighty fine meeting place between the lawful Core and the lawless Rim. The Have nots are the Rim worlders, plain and simple. The most recently terraformed of the planets, the Rim is a rough an' tumble place where life comes hard and a bullet in the back is not an uncommon happening. Populated by gun-scum, smugglers, illegal slaves, homesteaders, frontiersmen and the like, the Rim is not for the faint of heart. Resembling the old wild west movies of Earth-That-Was, these places are common arid and sparse in technology. The lack of shiny newtech in these places comes in part from lack of money and in part from sensibility. Energy and spare parts is hard to come-by in the Rim, and a Horse ain't' breakin' down like a hovermule might. It's solid, no-nonsense logic like that, that defines the edge of the 'Verse.
Then there’s that which connects all these people, and all these places: the Black. Humanity has had a long and sordid affair with the Black and the little cans of metal and ceramics that make travel though it possible for any bei bi shiou ren with a little coin. For some, boats are just a mean to an end, a way t’ get t’ where they’re goin’. For other, a boat of their own means freedom, the ability to go where they please and live how they like. It’s not too surprisin’ then to find lot of Rim worlders and Browncoats plyin’ the skies. Nor is it too surprisin’ when said people get a mite tetchy when something threatens their boat.
All in all, the ‘Verse is a big place filled with it share n’ more of people walkin’ every path of life imaginable.
Miasmic darkness. Thick, enveloping, crushing.
Tendrils of hardened black prod and poke, pinching, grasping, feeling. Suddenly clamping on, bands of steel across wrists, chest and ankles, holding you to a block of chilling onyx.
You struggle, thrash, whip your head side to side. A tendril bites your neck, the wound burns, your muscles tingle, refusing to heed your call anymore.
The darkness begins to fade slightly, into a fuzzy grey, dark shadows dancing through the gloom, a buzzing in your ears. The shadows stop their dance now and again to peer down at your, their faces a wash of grey and dulled blue, nothing solid. The buzzing is getting louder. Something pokes your right temple, sharp, thin. It's twin finds your left temple. One of the shadows has stopped over you, stock still longer then the others. It places something over your eyes, heavy, the feel of plastic.
Whatever is poking your temples suddenly jam themselves into your brain.
Fire explodes in your head, burning everything. You're held in agony, something clamps onto your ears. The buzzing intensifies a thousand fold, your brain seems ready to pop. You fall back into a miasmic darkness, the lack of feeling now a mercy. It doesn't last long.
Something faint flashes in front of you, then something else, then another. Which each flash, the picture focuses more. Eventually, you make out images.
A man with a hand at his ear, talking to you. A strangely coloured bunny teaching you your ABCs. A woman in white clothing throwing onions into a sizzling wok.
Cortex-shows. Everything from the evening news, to commercials, to Saturday morning cartoons flashes in front of you. With each flash, the next comes faster, until nothing but a stream of multicoloured light is whizzing in front of you, hurting your lidless-eyes.
As the flashing gets faster, tiny black splotches appear on the mess of colours, inky dots blacker then the depths of space. With each flash, more and more dots appear, until all that is left is a square of palpable darkness, darker then the rest of the black that surrounds you. Slowly, the square of darkness gets closer, closer, until it is right in front of you…
And something stares back.
With a sudden, heart-wrenching start, you are awake, your heart slamming itself against your ribs again and again. A bone-chilling sweat has soaked your clothes, and sheets beneath you.
For the past six months, you have been waking up with a start, sweaty, cold and agitated, the dark vestigial scraps of the same dream hanging in your head like cobwebs in an attic. Every time you lay your head down, no matter where you are, no matter what drugs or alcohol you've taken, the darkness comes, and the dream takes you. Afterwards, you can lay down once again, and blissfully dream-free sleep takes you, but the worry of the next night is there. As you lay there, the cold sweat drying your clothes to your body, you heart slowly calming down, staring at the ceiling, you realise something is wrong.
That is not the ceiling you fell asleep under.
About the RPEdit
So, welcome to my little attempt at a Firefly roleplay, and my first GMing experience on this here site. Everything is pretty straightforward at this moment; fill out a character sheet, check out the approvement process, and don't forget to have a look at the Firefly backstory, the link for which is at the bottom of this post. - Scythe
- Name: Remember that these people are the result of multiple generations of cultural interbreeding, so names are often an eclectic mix of ethnicities. A man with an oriental look to him might be named Rodriguez, a Caucasian family might have last name Tam, and so on.
- Career: A little blurb about what your character does to get by. It can be as short as "smuggler" or as long as a paragraph or longer, it's up to you. The important thing to know here is that I'm not lookin' to have any highly important folk involved in this shindig. People of low to middling importance are shiny, but CEOs, Syndicate bosses, Governors and the like are not.
- Gear: What does you character carry with them on a day to day basis? Remember, on the Rim and Border, it's considered good sense to have at least one gun on you at all times, to show others that you're capable of taking care of yourself. On the other hand, nobody walks around with an entire arsenal strapped to their ruttin' back.
- Assets: What does your character have going for them? Are they strong as a gorram bull? Are they a damn fine doctor, gifted even? Can they run a mile without breaking a sweat? Do they know some important people? So on and so forth.
- Complications: What makes life not go smooth for your character? Are they a lightweight, take down by a few drinks or a bad cold? Does a certain thing always scare the mi tian gohn out of them? Do they have a face not even their mother can love?
- Physical Description:
- Background: You can put as little or as much description in this section as you wish.
Like most other RPs, your character needs to be approved by me before they can get stuck in.
Unlike most other RPs, instead of posting your character here and then waiting for me to say something, I'd like people to PM me their CSs. After you do, I'll give you either a thumbs up at which point you can post it here in the OOC, or a thumbs down and some notes.
- Domenico Ambrogi - Mellow
- Aegis Phuong - removed_one
- Ethan Huang - Cascade
- Dean Kha Nguyen - Imenak
- Suriel "Animal" Bethra - Tyrael
- Mikaelha Silke - MKAura
- Edward "Eddie" Reese - Dorian
- Jaci Tamaya - Berry-tan
- Alex Banister - BobSagat
- Han “Hansel” Law - Jay
- Aina Jung - Deena
- Will Lorenzo - NeoWarrior7
- Benedicte “Bennie” Legadema - Aneri
The cell lay-out is as such.