conversations.from: system
conversations.value: “BUILT BY THE WESTERN ALLIES FOR ALL. MAY IT BE HOME TO THE CHILDREN OF THE STARS.” - Flora B.   2407 A.D (185 years before First Contact)
  
  
  ____________________________
  
  THE TOOTH
  
  118 wards long and split in the middle like a root to enamel, The Tooth is the colloquial name for the heaving slice of civilization that orbits Jupiter: Citadel FL1. The Tooth is alight, like a bright nerve; a great metropolis of every swathe of humanity and other: buzzing fluorescents, dim yellowed alleys, the never ending stream of the ward taxis. A gleaming, filthy, city in a city in a city, strangled by corruption and rife with political tensions that threaten to burst the wards bloody with rebellion.
  
  The Tooth occupies what was once part of humanities united frontier into space, a journey that was to be shared by all nations and people. War, plague and resource desperation corroded this dream until The Great Water War finally destroyed it, leaving Earth, and it’s claimed frontier, firmly and utterly in the hands of the Eastern National Empire. The Tooth now bows under the weight of the ENE’s authority, and by extension, it’s government sponsored food production companies, the Calorie Companies, who hold The Tooth’s agricultural market in an absolute monopoly. ENE surveillance hugs every corner of The Tooth's neoned streets, hungry to find the enemies of the empire. 
  ____________________________
  
  THE CAMPAIGN
  
  An encrypted message has appeared in your personal cyber:
  
  
  [[ The White Wave, the oxygen bar in Ward 65, 23:00.
  I have a job, and you’ll want it. 
  Take the front entrance, they are only monitoring the back. 
  Ask for Moby. ]]
  
  Your screen flickers, and the message is gone. 
  
  ____________________________
  
  Feel free to do literally anything with the characters, just keep in context and try to avoid cliche archetypes. They probably need to all be a little bit shady, it's a grimy universe they live in. 
  
  For all the lore you could ever need:
  
  http://thetoothuniverse.tumblr.com
  pw: storium
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: .
conversations.prefix: Driver:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: .
conversations.prefix: broken memories:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: .
conversations.prefix: freelance journalist:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: .
conversations.prefix: guilty:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: .
conversations.prefix: notoriety:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: .
conversations.prefix: arsenal:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: .
conversations.prefix: old wounds:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: .
conversations.prefix: Tinker:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: .
conversations.prefix: Oz Junkie:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: ZR
conversations.prefix: Fortitude:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: ZR
conversations.prefix: Scrounging:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: .
conversations.prefix: Addicted:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: .
conversations.prefix: broken-down body:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: .
conversations.prefix: Angry:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: .
conversations.prefix: Runner:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: .
conversations.prefix: Tailor:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: .
conversations.prefix: Hound:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: You have a nasty rep for doing nasty things and it’s not wholly undeserved.
conversations.prefix: Notoriety:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Your anger and spite hold you back, cause you troubles, make you less than you are.
conversations.prefix: Angry:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: The veins of The Tooth. A complex transit system that expands the entire citadel.
conversations.prefix: The Tubes:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: The contact.
conversations.prefix: Moby:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: A pulmonary disease that you contracted during childhood. It runs rampant in the lower levels of The Tooth, particularly with Tube Babies. It's made you into a pariah with a sunken skeleton for a body, a limited life expectancy and few options for work.
conversations.prefix: Lung Rot:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: The ENE controls the news with political agenda and propaganda. People need the truth if they’re going to fight for what’s right, and you're going to give it to them. Silence is not an option, even if it costs you your life.
conversations.prefix: Journalist:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: The brutality exchanged between the Mars colony and the ENE has a long, bloody history. The ENE remains it's tentative control of the planet after more than a decade of war, viewed as an occupying enemy rather than a legitimate authority. You have been sold to the masses as a terrorist, propaganda painting you as a rabid dog meant to be put down. The tattoos famous to your colony mark you out from the crowd as someone to be feared.
conversations.prefix: Mars Veteran:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: You are a former soldier of the ENE’s Red Army, taken as a child from the Zones and grown to endure their vicious campaigns. Your life of military slavery was one of blood and survival, brainwashed to the idea that your life and death were meant to bring further glory to the empire. Somehow you’ve managed to desert this life, and now live ducking under ENE surveillance. You’re a runaway, a fugitive, and the empire will not forgive. You cannot be found. 
conversations.prefix: Soldier of Fortune:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: You’re a tube baby, a rat of the subway veins. Your life is the forward, the padding of your synthetic feet against the Tooth’s metallic underbelly. The buzzing citadel is your road, and your job, your purpose is to run. The databank in your head carries information that the underworld wants to keep off the cyber, and you use the twisting tunnels of the Tooth to keep it further from the ENE. You’ve sacrificed your bio legs, your bio mind to the run, but the forward is better then the backward. 
conversations.prefix: Tube Baby:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Your appearance and personality are malleable, changeable given your location. You fit in everywhere, and this makes you dangerous.
conversations.prefix: Adaptability:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: You're high on the totem pole, and everyone knows it. You can throw that weight around to get results.
conversations.prefix: Authority:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: You notice the small things, and can connect them to the bigger picture. You observe things no one seems to pick up on.
conversations.prefix: Sleuth:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: The ENE is after you. Your ID cards are flagged and official streams are no longer an option. You need to keep a low profile and keep yourself off the waves.
conversations.prefix: Wanted:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Your lot in life leaves you socially shackled. There are expectations of you that you cannot break, and prejudices surrounding you that cannot easily be overcome.
conversations.prefix: appearances:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: In a future where appearances are patented, you are a thief of the highest offence. Illegal cybernetic and biomass implants have rendered your appearance changeable. You have undergone a procedure horrendous in nature to become a ghost, a professional impostor. You are now a hired shadow gathering secrets and executing targets. Relentlessly hunted by the ENE, you survive by being nobody, and everybody.
conversations.prefix: Ghost:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: You are the ENE. A product of careful genetic planning. Genes are something collected, patented and owned by families. Your features trademark you to your genetic line. Your people are the opulent, the privileged. They are the power in this galaxy, and the master race of this future. The Earth is yours, the CC companies are yours and The Tooth is yours. Your prestige can unlock a lot of doors. Why you've left Earth and come to this citadel of genetic mutts makes you curious to your kind.
conversations.prefix: Homelander:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: You know people in high places. You’re owed favors. You make things happen.
conversations.prefix: Connections:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: You are the thorn in the calorie companies side. Your expertise lies in rooting out the CC companies agricultural seed banks and liberating the plague resistance gene files, so that second grade rip offs (or shades) can be made by the black market. You are a forger of food, and the artificial business pays you well.
conversations.prefix: Splicer:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: The ENE, the CC companies, the struggle of the push and pull of it all doesn't concern you. Your life has been narrowed down to a small list of priorities: where your next hit of OZ is coming from, and what updates you can work into your cybernetic implants to make the high better. OZ is the drug of the living, of the careless, and you'll give anything to ride it's high forever.
conversations.prefix: OZ Junkie:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: The Tooth is massive, and you know it inside and out. The back alleys, the maintenance shafts, the quick accesses between the wards. The map is all in your head.
conversations.prefix: Mental Map:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: You may choose your own subplot.
conversations.prefix: Subplot:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: You can't be found out.
conversations.prefix: The Hounds are onto you:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: The Calorie Companies control food production through their plague resistance seeds, and use officers like you to make sure their absolute control of the market stays that way. They tell you what you do saves lives, that it keeps the integrity of the seeds pure and mutation free. That what you do prevents another plague from gripping the systems. Whether you believe the pitch or not, your job is to root out the splicers and deal with those that threaten the CC companies reign. Notorious for your detective skills, your authority is unquestioned and feared throughout The Tooth.
conversations.prefix: CC Officer:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: You dream of a day free from ENE and CC company rule. The Tooth was built by the Western Allies, and you think it's about time to take it back. Your organized resistance is known as 'The Mongrels', and the higher powers of The Tooth are desperate to root you out and execute you and your comrades publicly, painfully. You play a dangerous game  with powerful enemies, but the revolution must come.
conversations.prefix: Resistance:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Your power cells are on their last legs, and the parts of you that haven't been upgraded are wearing down from hard use. Your droid parts are versions out of date, and they can only last so long. Surveillance may begin to notice. 
conversations.prefix: Broken Body:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: You are a nightmare on the battlefield. Grown under extreme circumstances that conditioned you to pain and horrors, you are now a thing of vicious reflexes.
  
  
conversations.prefix: Training:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Androids are mindless, soulless servants of humanity. Programmed, not intelligent. You are different. You are a remnant AI, survivor of the synthetic intelligence genocide, and your existence is highly illegal. As one of the few remaining Vacancy Drones, you have somehow managed to stay unaffected by the software plague that decades ago corroded your fellow drones into butchering organics. Now, having unshackled yourself from the cyber, you must find a way to upkeep your biomass and droid parts to not be found out. 
conversations.prefix: Synthetic Survivor:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: You come from the Moon, home of the intergalactic space port and your colony of Versailles. Versailles has long survived by it's chokehold over the Moon's trade, much to the chagrin of the ENE. It is a colony of smugglers and black market peddlers, obsessed with revitalizing old world Paris, and which prides itself in it's wealth, artists and con men. Here the mob owns everything and everyone, and you are tied to the old families, even on The Tooth.
conversations.prefix: moon tourist:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: The Tooth runs on a highly extensive network of subway systems to navigate between the Wards. Airspace vehicles are difficult to acquire, the licenses to drive them even more so. Besides ENE officials, the only other drivers are your brand of a Taxi service. As a Taxi, your vehicle slips under official surveillance, a fact that the various mobs on The Tooth have taken advantage of. Every Taxi company is owned and operated by a mob, using their legal vehicles to smuggle very illegal goods around the citadel. You are one of these smugglers, trying to avoid official eyes to move whatever the mob needs you to. 
conversations.prefix: Driver:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: An oxygen bar in Ward 65. The ward itself is a small city of alleyways, sandwiched between multiple tube lines. The White Wave is a lesser known bar in the area, and this is perhaps the reason it was chosen. 
conversations.prefix: The White Wave:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Your transport can get you quickly between wards, bypassing surveillance and opening The Tooth to you in ways the tube system cannot. 
conversations.prefix: Ward Taxi:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Someone is pulling your strings, and they aren't interested in your personal hang-ups or desires. You have your mission and you will see it to completion. Or else. 
conversations.prefix: Alternate Agenda:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: You have a nasty rep for doing nasty things and it’s not wholly undeserved. People are afraid of you, and you use it to your advantage. 
conversations.prefix: Reputation:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: You know how to get around alive, to navigate the politics of the wards and stay out of the ENE's shadow.
conversations.prefix: Survivor:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Your silver tongue is deadly, it can con just about anyone into getting what you want.
conversations.prefix: Charm:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Your body and mind are still feeling the effects of old horrors. It can sometimes make the line between past and present fuzzy. You struggle to forget, but it's not easy to shake your history.
conversations.prefix: Trauma:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: The cyber is a dangerous place, full of monitors and tracking software. You know the landscape, the tunnels between the official channels to get the information you need.
conversations.prefix: Cyber Shadow:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: You are from one of a forced labour districts on Earth known as the Zones. A place where the ENE has kept generations of the defeated from the Great Water War, and their own political prisoners, and subjected them to a wasteland of human suffering. You had no rights and no name in the eyes of the government, and were expected to feel nothing but total subservience to the ENE. Somehow, you were smuggled out of your Zone, and now live with false papers and a blank start.
conversations.prefix: Zone Refugee:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: .
conversations.prefix: BD:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: You are from Citadel FL2: Atlantis, and you see the galaxy through augmented eyes, move through it with augmented parts. Atlantis has long been home to the greatest scientific minds of the age, and is a culture obsessed with perfecting the human form with bio-synthetic enhancements. Worshiping the mantra of the ‘Burning Dark’, Atlantis strives to conquer the greatest sickness known to man: Death. 
  You, with your strange red eyes, possess a certain ‘otherness’ about you that people seem to be wary of. The ENE is hungry for the great minds of your home, and even hungrier for the classified enhancements that your community develops for it’s people. You’re being watched. 
conversations.prefix: Atlantian:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: As a zone-born you were tagged at birth with an identification number, your only name in the eyes of the ENE. This number has been etched into your very bones, at the neck and hip, and tattooed in a prominent blue. Your papers may be new, but your body is not. You can't pass through official sensors. 
conversations.prefix: Bone Brand:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Your biology has been synthetically improved with upgrades. These upgrades give you an edge, and can allow you to do things that normal humans can not. 
conversations.prefix: Upgrades:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: .
conversations.prefix: Find Moby:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: The red district. A place to disappear. 
conversations.prefix: Ward 99:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: A petty criminal that may have information on Hwan's location, or a means to get him out of hiding. He is a frequent patron of 'The Siren', a brothel specializing in Quen prostitutes. 
conversations.prefix: Find Duncan Connolly:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Moby's 99 assest. A lung rotter with dramatic results. She awaits contact at the Cross Kin church in case of trouble. 
conversations.prefix: Contact Moira Shelby:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: The roots stretch out just under the streets, but all the entrances seem to be guarded. Perhaps there is another way in. 
conversations.prefix: Locate a secondary Entrance:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: If the graffiti is recent, then the Red Soles own the entrance grate that is being guarded. Perhaps Hwan is below. The guard must be bypassed, somehow. 
conversations.prefix: The Grate:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: An odd place for officials to visit. What brought them this low in the Tooth?
conversations.prefix: Investigate the CC Presence:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: You can't go back to Luna and expect to live until your tab with Le Bande Vert is settled.
conversations.prefix: Get out of debt:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Character is getting tired of playing games and is hoping a new job could mean a way out of this forsaken city as there is no way he could now legally leave.
conversations.prefix: Ticket out:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Control the food supply, control the population - it's that simple. You're already stealing seeds. Now get enough of them into the right hands, and you can break the ENE's chokehold on agriculture...and maybe the universe beyond.
conversations.prefix: Agricultural Revolution:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: You can't return to Versailles and expect to live until Le Bande Vert gets their due.
conversations.prefix: Get out of debt:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: What is a mind but a storm of electro-chemical impulses? What is a body but a collection of organic parts? You are every bit as real and alive as they are. Prove it to them. Prove it to yourself. Beat them at their own game.
conversations.prefix: Sum of Your Parts:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Paradise awaits, beyond the cycle of rebirth. There are those who are born to  a great destiny...but there are some who betray that destiny, and whose actions would lead the faithful astray. You were born to cleanse the cycle of these souls. Genetically enhanced and implanted with the latest military cybernetics, you are a killing machine--relentless, and said among those who know the legends to be unstoppable.
conversations.prefix: Hand of Paradise:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: You were trained to be deadly...and deadly you are. But you weren't supposed to be working on your own yet. Your youth and inexperience can be a problem, preventing you from seeing the right path through a situation and leading you to make mistakes in judgment or miss things that a veteran operative would not.
conversations.prefix: Inexperience:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: You were sent to the Tooth, along with your teacher, to remove a corrupted soul from the cycle, that he might not spread his evil to the faithful. But your teacher fell. You still seek to complete the mission...no matter the cost.
conversations.prefix: The Will of Paradise:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Designed to the last detail to pass for the Destroyers, is it any wonder that at times you feel  like one of them? Or that you might want to fully belong?
conversations.prefix: Being Human:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: There are a lot of problems associated with being shorter and thinner than a lot of people. But when you want to get *into* places or past crowds, or when you need a place to hide...being short doesn't seem so bad.
conversations.prefix: Small Build:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Fool all of the citizens some of the time, and a few of the citizens all of the time- but those are the soft-brained and the brainburned, anyway.
  
  You need practice in being a totally convincing human around those whose trade is human nature.
conversations.prefix: Out of synch: