Drusilla
8th June 2003, 05:56 PM
Of Music and Blood~ PG-13 to Mature!
Jephed got up, clutching his guitar, and headed toward the door.
"Get back here. Put down that guitar. Where do you think you're going?"
Jephed did not put down the guitar, but turned to face him. "Out of here," he said, meaning out of tests and recommendations, out of fifty years of clerical work and monitored drug intake and team counseling meetings and retirement planning, out of the safe, static world into which he had been born. Out.
His father knew what he meant. "Look. Jeph. Son." The old man fumbled toward him with a callused hand. "You ain't thinking of going to the gangs, are you?"
Jephed looked steadily back at him and did not answer. It was no use answering. His father would never understand how the street gangs were where life was, life bone-deep and sky-high, life rich in danger and bloodletting and dying. And they were where the music was, real music with muscle and nerve endings in it, not the pasty-soft sellout stuff that the holocubes played.
His fathers eyes went hard. "I should have broken that blasted guitar in half the minute you brought it into the house."
"So break me in half," Jephed said. His music was his life. He knew this the way he knew few other things. The way he knew his mother had loved him, giving him life before she died. The way he had once known his father loved him... not he felt not so sure.
"Listen, punk." His father went quiet and stony, a stocky rock of a blue-shirt man in the middle of the shabby room. "If you walk out of here, don't ever come back."
Jephed nodded. "Bye," he whispered. He went out the door.
~Taken from "Who's Gonna Rock Us Home?" by Nancy Springer, found in May/June 2003 Cicada Literary Magazine
----------------------------------------------------------------
It's the future. Life is plastic; you're sent to school at an early age to be taught how to be a contributing citizen. When you enter your teens, you begin to regularly take "cope", a drug that causes euphoria and serenity. You're tested, and assigned a job. You do that job for fifty years, and they you're sent off into retirement. Sounds great? Not really.
Some... some discover music. They discover life the way that it once was. When it had possibilities. And they realize that they don't need the structured life that they lead. They need something... more...
There are three distinct gangs. The story "Who's Gonna Rock Us Home?", which this RPG is based on, covers the experience of a young man who joins the Ax Warriors. Consequently, the story covers the most about them. But I'll do my best here.
Ax Warriors- In the story (it's a short story, BTW), the members of the gang are noted to like classics such as Springsteen and Elvis. Some of the characters are-
Luz- She's a sassy one. Described as "Black-leather short skirt, black-lace bra top, glossy black hair. Hispano." She's hot and she knows it. She gets away with a lot more than most.
"Big Man"- "He was the leader; Jephed could tell it be his tough wedge of a face, by the red kerchief on his head, but his curt tone." He's the leader of the Ax Warriors. Heartless, he gives Jephed a task that is cruel, and it becomes his demise.
This is to give you an idea of how the Ax Warriors are, if that's your gang. Remember-
"The only drugs and Ax Warrior needs are his woman and his brothers and his music."
The Freaks- There's a battle between the Freaks and the Ax Warriors, so I know a little about them. They're described as "all boots and muscle and tattoos". They most likely listen to metal, from the classics of Metallica to the newer stuff from KoRn. They're the toughest fighters around. Not someone you're going to want to mess with.
The third gang is The Rockin' Death. Since there's not much about them in the story, I think we'll leave them out. If someone really wants to play a char from them, PM me. Otherwise, no.
Sign-Up
Name:
Gender:
Age: 15-21 please
Gang: Ax Warriors or the Freaks
Looks: Include scars/tattoos too people. They're not something that can be avoided!
Personality:
Instrument: Bass, guitar, improv drums, whatever. In this world, you don't have any excess equipment, like amps and whatnot. They're all built in; coolies, huh?
Weapon(s) of choice-
History: NOT OPTIONAL! Put what kind of family you came from, why you left, what your job would have been, ect.
Relationships: Do you have a person that you have bonded with? Someone that's your partner? Someone you care for?
Other: =-o!
My SU, w00t!
Name: Varda Morgil
Gender: Female
Age: 17
Gang: Freaks, w00t!
Looks: She's got the Metallica insignia on her right shoulder in black (of course). She's really tall, about 6'5, and like the Freaks' usually are; all boots, muscle, and tattoos. Not exactly the most feminine to one who doesn't know her, she's got an ultra feminine side to her that is rarely seen. There's a scar running from her left ear to below her left eye. She's got piercings up the wazoo (he he, fun word!), including all the way up her ears, both eyebrows, and her lip. There may be more, you just don't see 'em ;). She wears a black tank top and black jeans with heavy black motorcycle boots. This is the girl that could beat Arnold's arse...
Personality: Despite her outward appearance, she's very kind towards those she cares for. A powerful fighter, she knows she's strong, but also knows that she doesn't have to use her strength to get her way. Never one to use over kill, she only uses as much force as is needed for the job and saves her energy for more important things.
Instrument: Bass and electric
Weapon(s) of choice- sledge hammer and/or nice long chain
History: She was bound for secretarial work when she and some close friends said 'screw it' and created the gang. They're a force to be reckoned with. She looks out for her followers like a vicious mother of her children, but she doesn't baby them. Instead, she seems heartless and inhumane towards new kids, but it's all got a purpose. She would die for her friends, and they know it. So, she's obviously the leader...
Relationships: her gang of course, and "Jaymz" ^_~
Other: =-o!
Jephed got up, clutching his guitar, and headed toward the door.
"Get back here. Put down that guitar. Where do you think you're going?"
Jephed did not put down the guitar, but turned to face him. "Out of here," he said, meaning out of tests and recommendations, out of fifty years of clerical work and monitored drug intake and team counseling meetings and retirement planning, out of the safe, static world into which he had been born. Out.
His father knew what he meant. "Look. Jeph. Son." The old man fumbled toward him with a callused hand. "You ain't thinking of going to the gangs, are you?"
Jephed looked steadily back at him and did not answer. It was no use answering. His father would never understand how the street gangs were where life was, life bone-deep and sky-high, life rich in danger and bloodletting and dying. And they were where the music was, real music with muscle and nerve endings in it, not the pasty-soft sellout stuff that the holocubes played.
His fathers eyes went hard. "I should have broken that blasted guitar in half the minute you brought it into the house."
"So break me in half," Jephed said. His music was his life. He knew this the way he knew few other things. The way he knew his mother had loved him, giving him life before she died. The way he had once known his father loved him... not he felt not so sure.
"Listen, punk." His father went quiet and stony, a stocky rock of a blue-shirt man in the middle of the shabby room. "If you walk out of here, don't ever come back."
Jephed nodded. "Bye," he whispered. He went out the door.
~Taken from "Who's Gonna Rock Us Home?" by Nancy Springer, found in May/June 2003 Cicada Literary Magazine
----------------------------------------------------------------
It's the future. Life is plastic; you're sent to school at an early age to be taught how to be a contributing citizen. When you enter your teens, you begin to regularly take "cope", a drug that causes euphoria and serenity. You're tested, and assigned a job. You do that job for fifty years, and they you're sent off into retirement. Sounds great? Not really.
Some... some discover music. They discover life the way that it once was. When it had possibilities. And they realize that they don't need the structured life that they lead. They need something... more...
There are three distinct gangs. The story "Who's Gonna Rock Us Home?", which this RPG is based on, covers the experience of a young man who joins the Ax Warriors. Consequently, the story covers the most about them. But I'll do my best here.
Ax Warriors- In the story (it's a short story, BTW), the members of the gang are noted to like classics such as Springsteen and Elvis. Some of the characters are-
Luz- She's a sassy one. Described as "Black-leather short skirt, black-lace bra top, glossy black hair. Hispano." She's hot and she knows it. She gets away with a lot more than most.
"Big Man"- "He was the leader; Jephed could tell it be his tough wedge of a face, by the red kerchief on his head, but his curt tone." He's the leader of the Ax Warriors. Heartless, he gives Jephed a task that is cruel, and it becomes his demise.
This is to give you an idea of how the Ax Warriors are, if that's your gang. Remember-
"The only drugs and Ax Warrior needs are his woman and his brothers and his music."
The Freaks- There's a battle between the Freaks and the Ax Warriors, so I know a little about them. They're described as "all boots and muscle and tattoos". They most likely listen to metal, from the classics of Metallica to the newer stuff from KoRn. They're the toughest fighters around. Not someone you're going to want to mess with.
The third gang is The Rockin' Death. Since there's not much about them in the story, I think we'll leave them out. If someone really wants to play a char from them, PM me. Otherwise, no.
Sign-Up
Name:
Gender:
Age: 15-21 please
Gang: Ax Warriors or the Freaks
Looks: Include scars/tattoos too people. They're not something that can be avoided!
Personality:
Instrument: Bass, guitar, improv drums, whatever. In this world, you don't have any excess equipment, like amps and whatnot. They're all built in; coolies, huh?
Weapon(s) of choice-
History: NOT OPTIONAL! Put what kind of family you came from, why you left, what your job would have been, ect.
Relationships: Do you have a person that you have bonded with? Someone that's your partner? Someone you care for?
Other: =-o!
My SU, w00t!
Name: Varda Morgil
Gender: Female
Age: 17
Gang: Freaks, w00t!
Looks: She's got the Metallica insignia on her right shoulder in black (of course). She's really tall, about 6'5, and like the Freaks' usually are; all boots, muscle, and tattoos. Not exactly the most feminine to one who doesn't know her, she's got an ultra feminine side to her that is rarely seen. There's a scar running from her left ear to below her left eye. She's got piercings up the wazoo (he he, fun word!), including all the way up her ears, both eyebrows, and her lip. There may be more, you just don't see 'em ;). She wears a black tank top and black jeans with heavy black motorcycle boots. This is the girl that could beat Arnold's arse...
Personality: Despite her outward appearance, she's very kind towards those she cares for. A powerful fighter, she knows she's strong, but also knows that she doesn't have to use her strength to get her way. Never one to use over kill, she only uses as much force as is needed for the job and saves her energy for more important things.
Instrument: Bass and electric
Weapon(s) of choice- sledge hammer and/or nice long chain
History: She was bound for secretarial work when she and some close friends said 'screw it' and created the gang. They're a force to be reckoned with. She looks out for her followers like a vicious mother of her children, but she doesn't baby them. Instead, she seems heartless and inhumane towards new kids, but it's all got a purpose. She would die for her friends, and they know it. So, she's obviously the leader...
Relationships: her gang of course, and "Jaymz" ^_~
Other: =-o!