>>> The Swingin' Twenties...

Flat on your back on a hard, gravelly surface, you blink your eyes as you come to.

The bright lights overhead blind you momentarily and you shield your eyes with a hand as you squint. You ache all over and you can feel a wet stickiness on your arms and sides. You struggle to sit up on what you find to be a narrow strip of road.

You hear a sharp squeal as a blocky shape stops next to you. There's a loud rumbling coming from its front end. As your eyes focus, you make out the details of a Kord Model R automobile. A door slams open and you behold a dark-skinned dame with dark curls in a blood-stained cream flapper dress.

"Hurry up! Get in!"

Her words are a shout but seem to roar in your head, your ears ringing.

A large man with broad shoulders, dressed in a dark suit and wearing a black fedora with a cream headband, sticks his torso out of a window. The chattering of a tommy gun fills the air. He growls, "We don't have much time, kid. Get in the car. Now."

You feel arms lift you up from the ground and half-drag, half-carry you over to the car and unceremoniously throw you in. You turn as you try to sit properly and see a young black man, possibly barely out of his teens, slamming the door shut. You notice that his teeth are amazingly white as he shoots you a toothy grin, blood smeared across his face and clothes.

The automobile shoots off as the young man jumps onto the tailbar, a hand clapping his argyle flatcap to his head. The dame is driving and you realize that she's barely any older than the young black man hanging on for dear life in the back.

She shouts back into the wind, "Patrick Nemowe, if you die now, I will never, EVER forgive you!"

"Awww, shucks, Miss Paz, that's so sweet of you," came the reply, dripping with cheekiness. And how anyone could hear it over the racket, no one will ever know.

The big man growls as he reloads the tommy gun, "You still owe her thirty bucks, Nems. Now hang on tight, there are three of 'em and they're gaining!"

The young dame lowers herself to the wheel and floors it.

Looks like you're in for the ride of your life.

WHAT DO YOU DO?

_{... seems like a good setting for the Exalted.}

>>> When you're in a jam...

Black Ops Campaign
Character Idea

United Nations Special Operations Command - Omega Special Service
UNSOC-OSS

Personnel Dossier
PDF-S-FR-082D-31-8084055W
Classified: Top Secret

Djamel "Jammer" Charron
Sergent Chef
Recce Specialist
Parachutist/Armoured Cavalry
French Foreign Legion

Born in December 1982 of mixed heritage, the war orphan Djamel - or Jam to his friends - grew up mostly in Nice, France with Franco-American parents & siblings, though his adoptive family travelled substantially. Due to studying in an International School, he was influenced at an early age by American hip-hop and the British alternative scene. He also picked up a smattering of languages due to his circle of friends. He has a fondness for extreme sports, basketball, breakdancing, tattoos (he sports many on his body, including two full arm sleeves and Legion emblems along the right side of his neck) and very loud music. He possesses above-average creative talent and good physical co-ordination.

Djamel is an ever cheerful and encouraging individual, prone to behaving like a big brother to many. On duty, he is serious and cautious but is said to enjoy his assignment. At the age of 19, following the tragic deaths of his adoptive parents, Djamel dropped out of university and enlisted with the French Foreign Legion to, I quote, "to escape the Dark".

However, after his first tour, he applied for and gained admission to a correspondence degree program with a speciality in military history.

The Legion became a surrogate family, although he has kept in contact with his adoptive siblings, especially his younger sister Jean-Marie.

He has served four 3-year tours with the French Foreign Legion. He is a trained parachute trooper, but his talents were discovered to lie behind the [driving] wheel. After six years (two tours) with the 2e REP, he was transferred to the 1e REC to utilise his newly discovered talent. The rest of his subsequent service was then consequently spent in the recce company of the Legion's armoured battalion. Considered a veteran and a "lifer" (pegged for lifelong service), he has served well in many theaters, including Afghanistan as part of the Coalition's Peacekeeper Corps.

Djamel comes highly recommended to the OSS by several of our "talent agents". It is advised that Djamel be recruited to serve dual duties as both a scout (infiltrator) and skilled driver (wheelman) with his unique skill set and experience.

 -
Theodore McHallens
Captain
Recruitment Officer

_{... and need to get out quick.}

>> From a statement of time...

"2219"

Welcome to the Year 2219.

The world has changed a lot since you were put on ice and spaced up.

It's been broken down into two super-powers: the Euromerican Alliance in the Western Hemisphere and the Pacifica Conglomerate in the Eastern Hemisphere.

Euromerica is not so much an alliance as it is one large federalized union of nation-states dominated by the nation-descendant of the 21st century USA.

The Conglomerate is a representative oligarchy, since the countries of Asia and Australasia Privatized, transforming into corp-nations.

The Yangtze Syndicate and Jai-Hind Megacorp have the largest blocs of voting power on the Oligarchical Council, but Singapura Tech (SingTech for short) and Nippon Foundries own the technologies that every nation uses.

The region originally known as the Middle-East is now known as the Desert Emirates, aligned with neither side and stubbornly holding on to neutrality. The militaristic Emirate of Israestine, the end result of the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict, maintains its grip on its territory, including the area surrounding the Suez Canal, and resists the predations of the other Emirates.

Russia's been broken down by severe economic pressure & downturn, orchestrated by the pre-privatisation Pan-Asian Bloc, industrial sabotage, internal strife caused by dissenters, agent provacateurs & rebels, the Chechen Problem coming home to roost, "Siberiarization" - the freak Ice Age that hit poor Mother Russia - and the Bratva Russkya hostile takeover of the government nearly a century ago.

Whatever's left of Russia is actually the physical landmass of Siberia, which currently stretches up to Irkutsk and is now the Corpnation of the Russo-Cyberian Enclave.

The Russian Steppes are home to nomads and vast underground warrens, neither side able to claim them wholesale due to the presence of the Kossacks and their underground dwelling Kohl Black allies. Therefore, both sides had to be satisfied to leave it as a buffer zone.

Africa is mostly desert and grassland, its countries having dissolved into supposed anarchy or gone 'wild', its people returning to feudal or nomadic ways.

Except for the remains of South Africa, Namibia, Lesotho, Swaziland, Mozambique & Madagascar and some of surrounding islands which now make up the arcological ecopolises of the Afrikaan Republic.

There are a lot of possibilities for making cred and earning rep, regardless which side of the line you choose, mate.

Unless you choose to be one of the Greys, which is another story by itself.

So, let's get you cleaned up and looking good for the world, ey...


Sent from Catch Notes for Android
https://catch.com


... came a whole idea for a world.

>>> Off the cuff...

A Fistful of Copper is a spur-of-the-moment creation actually written as the beginning of a tandem story piece between a friend and I, so it may not, if ever, see completion. Originally 'written' off the cuff in under two hours, I've just spent the last six hours, off and on, editing and rewriting it to make it somewhat presentable.

I need an editor. Hahaha.

And feel free, if you like, to continue this in your own way. All I ask is that you allow me to read your work.

Thanks!

I hope that all of you enjoy this mad creation.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!
A Fistful of Copper

Extra notes:

1 Most mages in this world are called Casters. Eg. Warcasters who use their magic with military purposes, Tekcasters (rare outside of foundry/forge cities) who use their magic mostly for the creation of items and technology (such as it is), Hexcasters who cast curses and huck up aggressive spells (think witches and warlocks), etc.

2 The halfling is a Tekcaster by the name of Magraudlin "Mags" O'Roark, who's an army veteran, trader, tinker and talented 'Jack-smith. He is possessed of endless cheerfulness, which some think is some sort of unbreakable hex, and an incurable curiousity. He is infamous along the Frontier Border and can proove to be a frustrating character to deal with.

3 Mags' 'Jack is a siege-grade custom Warjack named Wideload, powered by a custom-built V-twin stack 'flashcore' eldritch engine powered by coal but also has the ability to absorb fire & lightning strikes for use as fuel and armed with Stormhammer fists as well as a pair of recessed large caliber HEAP (High Explosive Armor Piercing) slugthrowers in its shoulders while being protected by thick layers of armour. Its armour is adorned with engravings of clockwork mechanisms and hexagonal dragonscales. Due to its sheer weight, its speed is considered to be slow but the custom-built engine not only allows a short boost in speed but also the ability to 'flashstep', a form of short-ranged teleportation. There is a small saddle for Mags so he can ride on it. In addition, the Jack is capable of quadrupedal movement which doubles its ground speed, and can carry up to five times its weight.

4 All 'Jacks are powered by Eldritch Engines, usually a single stack of a rugged, robust nature. Eldritch engines use different kinds of fuel, depending on purpose, maker and model, which can vary from enchanted coal to molten lava.

5 'Jacks require Casters to control them, though there are rumours of 'Jacks gaining sentience. These rumours are unproven, however.

... with a pocketful of coins.