Content:  The setting will be brutal, violent, look out for yourself, might makes right sort of world.  RP/ ERP.  Violent, NC, Rape<br/><br/>World:  Mainly human, but mutations and adaptations are acceptable though generally looked at as non pure and those who do not rise to power because of thier mutation/adaptation will be hunted/purified by whatever bands/groups/quasi military that have formed in the meantime.  Think - walking dead, revolution type societies.<br/><br/>Set up:  Do we even know what year it is anymore?  Would it matter if we did?  We never got to deplete the natural resources buried beneath the crust of the earth because the plague wiped out about 89 percent of the worlds population.  At least that is the best guess.  Those people who believe the propaganda from the Razor, are sheep.  Still, the Razor has its function.<br/><br/>The North American continent has survived well enough, coming together with bands of people of all different skill types.  The Razor 'recruited' the best of the best.  By recruited, I mean taken and forced to work for them.  They apparently educate a portion of the population, the rest are workers, slaves or breed stock.<br/><br/>I know all this, because the stories have passed down through generations.  What happened before the twisted undeath, still haunts me.  I have never seen it, and it has been a few generations since anyone has seen 'one of those' first hand.  Grandpapa said that before the disease struck, war was coming, and horrible chemicals were PURPOSELY being developed in shining white rooms with glass and light.  They were noisy and exciting, machines were common and life was easy.  People talked into machines for a living, and sat behind machines, they wrote on paper and lounged after eight hours.  Indolence was the sin of our world.  A disease did get out, and was so viral that it was worse than the mushroom bombs.  Grandpapa and papa argued about that.  Always back and forth, which caused which.<br/><br/>Our small tribe is far from what used to be civilization.  Sometimes one of the men decides he needs to prove himself and go to the barren land that used to be a city.  They go to bring back trophies.  The metal has mostly been picked clean, and there are bands of men and women who live there.  If they go, most times we never see them again.  There is something else there too, Grandpapa says invisible stuff, like air, attacks the body, and twists you inside.  If they come back.. sometimes, if they have children, the baby is different.  I am one of them.<br/><br/>The tribe rarely sees anyone new.  New blood is welcome.  After so many generations breeding with your blood relations, sometimes the children turn out stupid, or lame, or deformed.  There have been raids to catch new blood men, or women so our tribe can survive many more generations, but we isolated ourselves on purpose.  Men who come through, are celebrated, then drugged with aphrodisiacs in their feast dinner and set to impregnate as many fertile women as he can before he passes out.  Women are rare, and are coaxed to stay.  If this doesn't work, they are kept.  This doesn't make many people happy until a child comes.<br/><br/>We till fields, but do not clear much area.  Doing so would alert raid groups to our whereabouts.  We travel in pairs, and do it quietly.  Papa says we were all much taller, stronger and sturdier in the before time.  There are rumors that the Razors men and women prosper and are also tall and strong.  We have learned to farm high in the trees, creating natural containers, that look like giant birds nests, soil and seed is then planted, and we harvest from those plants as well as hunt meat, and collect what can be had from the ground and trees.<br/><br/>Mama knew that I could "hear" people think.  It isn't so uncommon that people do 'unnatural' things, but even in our homes no one speaks of it.  No one 'remembers' what the children can do once they pass into breeding age.<br/><br/>Raiding bands:  Think Road Warrior<br/><br/>The Razor:  This is both a political assignment(leader), and an organized? cityish place.  The Razor was the original organizer of the original small town.  It started out as a raiding party, and was contested land.  The leader of the final conquering raid band that held the land.. his nickname was "The Razor" named so for his preferred implement.. a straight razor.  He liked to torture, by making long superficial slices, keeping someone alive for a time before finally slitting the throat.  It was rumored he drank the blood of his victims and only his inner circle partook in the rituals.<br/><br/>In the last 50-70 years the small town grew due to the natural resources.  A large river ran through it, carrying garbage downstream, providing fresh water and allowed for many other functions.  There was a large lake nearby which also provided food.  The land was fertile and there is a farm community there.  The land, however, has regressed to something like feudal times.  The landowners being titles given to those favored in 'court'  They then allow people to farm the plots of land, and as payment send a portion of the harvest to the landowner, who in turn provides a portion of that to the current Razor.<br/><br/>The inner city is walled off, and is well protected, with an outer wall manned by a peoples militia.  Raid groups generally do not try to take over the city any longer.  None are big, or organized enough.  The Razor understands that becoming comfortable at the expense of vigil will mean death to the city.  The Razor, (Who was named Jayson before the final testing for the Razors name) also fears to educate, and train too many to too high a competence.  Paranoid, he believes that his seat will always be challenged, outrightly or subversively.  Part of the Razors duties include breeding his selected women in rotation to populate the city with his blood as much as possible.  There have been complaints, even from some loyal to him that he has taken far too much of the good breeding stock, overstepping his bounds.<br/><br/>Things have started getting out of hand as men are "forced" to start breeding the working stock women, due to lack of women of age to bear children.  No man may own more than a single woman, but Jayson has four.  Women who produce are not so common, but are becoming more so as the ground heals.<br/><br/>There are outbreaks sometimes of disease beginning in the poor quarters, in the slums, where the drudges live.  This is common disease though, starting with vermin.  They all live at the end of the river.. where the most garbage is.  They are virtually untaxable because they have nothing to tax, but on the other hand, they are nothing, expendable.<br/><br/>Most of the common world.. the inbetweens are wild and green.  There are traces of old highways, and things which existed, but the world has reclaimed most of it.  What used to be small towns, and suburbs have virtually been torn down by natures insistance on taking it back.  In these wild places sometimes you can salvage things, but most dare not go in. The majority of creatures who live there have all evolved to hunt human.  Projectile weapons, and guns are rare, but the Razors 'scientists' work to reclaim the making of many things.<br/><br/>-------------------------------------------------------------------------<br/>Trix from the tribe, filtered out the buzz of her kinsmens thoughts around her.  She couldn't know what they thought... or at least couldn't let on.  Up in a tree, she pulled the weeds from the nest, and ate them.  A trick she had learned from her gran.  It made your belly feel full if you couldn't get anything before then.  Half a dozen kin worked within 'hearing' range even though they worked quietly.  She hadn't tried her skills though sometimes she wished for something cooler, more useful than 'hearing'.  It made her sigh.  Late at night sometimes she would sit with the other girl, the one who could make the leaves tremble, and they spoke.  They sat together more than other people did, and she felt good and safe.  THey shared a secret.  Sometimes they laughed with hands over thier mouths.  It was a strange noise, like a yip and a bark all at once, but it felt good too.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>