humiliatious | Amphitheater Multiverse: The Wastelands

The Amphitheater is a mysterious place. It's in the space of a blink that you appear outside one of its many entrances. You're beckoned inside, taken to the center, where the showrunners assign you a role. Another blink, and you're no longer surrounded by rows of crowded seats. The crowd and cast have disappeared. Whatever role you were given, that is your life now, even if only for the duration of the performance. Be careful, though. It's easy to get lost in the role you were given. It's not uncommon for performers to forget who they are.

Performance: The Wastelands

It's a scenario which has fascinated since the very inception of story-telling: What happens after the world ends? It seems that's what's occurred here. Shops and houses are left empty of life, looted of supplies. Strange, mutant plants grow wrap around buildings and overtake forests, which infected animals slip out of to attack. Towns are less so towns, and more so guarded fortresses which only allow certain individuals in and out. Supplies are scarce, and trade has devolved into a bartering system. Camps of survivors are scattered throughout the countryside and abandoned villages, with some bigger groups splitting up into factions. Infighting is common, as well as altercations between groups. The world has become temperamental, anxious, everyone always prepared to attack. Those affected by the mutation find it even harder to survive every day, met with a whole host of biological and social obstacles. Everyone's goal is to survive. What role will you play?

Dramatis Personae

scavengers & survivalists

Scavengers and survivalists survive on their own as best as they can. They are loners who travel from settlement to settlement, trading supplies they've found before moving onto the next place. Some prefer to live off grid entirely, and only interact with others when passing in their travels. Others hide away in cities and towns, away from the eyes of the factions that govern them, stealing what they need. Generally, these types believe that others will slow them down, and are concerned more with their own survival than anything else, which makes them poor companions.

leaders

The world as all knew it may have ended, but so long as there are people still alive, they will need leaders. One might lead a small settlement with only a handful of people, merely interested in surviving. Instead, one might be the leader of a powerful faction in a major fortress city, with hundreds at your command. There are religious leaders, as well, which devotees follow faithfully in all that they do. Whatever the case may be, the leader is, at the end of the day, someone responsible for the wellbeing of the many others that depend on them.

traders

Traders are apocalypse-made merchants who survive by collecting and selling items between settlements. Some of these merchants travel, moving from settlement to settlement and providing goods for travelers on the road, and some reside in settlements, providing goods for the town. They may sell anything from rations to weapons to medical supplies, and generally tend to have good relationships with leaders, due to their many connections. They are good salespeople, exceptionally clever with words, and may convince you to leave with something you don't need, or give them something you do.

the affected

No one is quite sure what caused animals, plants, and people to all start changing - why some are affected, and others aren't - but some strange mutation took hold after the world came to an end, rendering some something between human and beast. They are not mindless, and they are not hungry, but they have been known to attack - transform into monsters which blindly lash out until their prey has been disposed of. This only happens when they are provoked, however...

hunters

Some believe that the affected must be disposed of, studied, or otherwise detained until an explanation for their condition can be found. There are a few leaders, both religious and otherwise, who claim to be researching a cure for the strange affliction. They hire hunters to find the affected and bring them to their headquarters. Other hunters have more personal reasons for wanting to seek out the affected and dispose of them.

devotees

In times of great crisis, such as these, people find themselves desperate for a guiding light to follow. Devotees pledge themselves to leaders, objects, gods, etc., and follow them dutifully no matter what they're asked to do. Some religious factions condemn the affected, while some celebrate and welcome them, and others still that want to research them; likewise, there are some factions that welcome anyone, some that only welcome allied factions, some that welcome no one. It all depends on what one has decided to devote themselves to - the point is, they're devoted.

OOC

Hello! Welcome to Amphitheater Multiverse, inspired by former game 7Dead's AU/amplitheater premise. Essentially, characters enter a magical amphitheater that is holding a performance (this time it is "The Wastelands," a post-apocalyptic story), and they are cast in roles. This transports them to the setting of the "play" - essentially one big collective AU you can TL and play in (your characters can either be aware they're in a play, completely lost in their roles, some combination thereof, etc.). You can play out multiple roles/enter & exit the amphitheater more than once.

Please follow basic DWRP etiquette, don't be a jerk, use CWs in subject lines/read them. Play anyone you want - canon characters, OCs, fandom OCs, AUs, CRAUs, etc., etc. This event is open for anyone to play. You do not need to know me or be on my plurk list or anything like that. If you have any questions, please direct them here, or hit me up on plurk at

pantheraliam (just note that I don't add people unless I know them). Have fun, be safe o v o;;

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

a. an affected

[Her staff is planted in the earth beside her—close enough for her to reach quickly if she's unexpectedly approached—but otherwise, she seems completely at ease, kneeling quietly on the ground, her expression calm. Her hands are held over the soil before her, and her gaze is fixed on the land below her hands. She can sense... something, deep in the earth. This awareness has only grown stronger as the days pass. Of a wildness, a life—like water moving, deep below the earth. Close to the earth as she is, she is trying to draw some of that wild, living energy upwards, into the spent, stained soil by the surface.

She doesn't know why she's trying to do this—or even if it can be done, but she feels called to try. Her attention may seem completely focused on the earth, but she is also very aware of her surroundings. No one can afford to drop their guard out here—not without consequences.

From a distance, she may seem like an ordinary human, but the closer one comes, the stranger Aerith appears. Her eyes give off a faint, green glow. Her veins seem to glow too, visible beneath the surface of her skin, also faintly greenish.]

b. trading turnips

[Aerith's small cart is painted in bright colors, the wooden sides of the vehicle depicting simple images of flowers, trees, hills, and mountains: a little landscape, and one sharply at odds with the actual grim landscape. The elderly donkey that's been pulling her cart has seen better days, but he has a peaceful air, tethered not far from where Aerith has set up shop, grazing on the scant grass.

Aerith has a similar air of peace around her, setting out her wares on the outskirts of this village, with a soft smile on her face.]

It's your lucky day! We've actually got a few tomatoes. Along with carrots, potatoes, leeks, turnips... and let's see... There's even some spinach!

c. leader, healer

[Something must have happened to you. Something very unpleasant—maybe an ambush, or possibly a less surprising attack. You feel sore, and more than a little dazed. That's not an extraordinary experience out in the wasteland.

It's more extraordinary, perhaps, to find yourself waking up indoors, lying down in a clean, soft bed—with your wounds tended, while the alluring, savory smell of something cooking gives the air the scent of comfort.

Aerith, standing nearby, senses movement, turning towards the bed.]

It's all right... you're safe, here.

d. out in the wild wastelands

[Aerith tightens her grip on her staff, her eyes bright, her gaze steady, and her her stance skillful as she faces the stranger. Violence is never her first option, but sometimes it's necessary out here. She knows that better than anything. She might not prefer fighting, but she knows how.]

Who are you, and what do you want?

or, wildcard
[Surprise me! I'm up for almost anything!]

[He’s not made to be a leader, really. At all. But the flowers were planted, and the people came, and, unfortunately, having been there first lent a certain kind of credence. Very silly. Very quickly. Very very very very very overwhelming. Very much leaves him wondering how they’re all still here.

[Nonetheless, Basil tries his best for the people he cares about.

[So it goes that he steps through the greenery, fingers weaving through each other like tangled roots, trembling like a newborn fawn. He spots the staff first and its person second. Maybe the green ought to stick out more, but—well, he’s a little bit green, too. It’s in his eyes, most obvious at night. He tries not to question it.]

H-hello? [Oh. Oh, that’s no way to greet a stra— confront, oh, geez, he was supposed to be— Ah, never mind. Basil clears his throat.] Do you… know where you are?

[It is not a threatening question in any sense of the word. If anything, it sounds like he’s lost.]

Oh—!

[She's surprised by the voice suddenly speaking out of the greenery. Turning towards Basil, Aerith reaches for her staff. It's not a hostile move, however. She grasps it briefly, using it to center her balance and pull herself up from where she's been kneeling for so long. This person doesn't seem aggressive, and she won't be aggressive herself unless she has a very good reason to be. She smiles, letting go of the staff again.]

Hello there.

[It's a good question... does she know where she is? She knows her place beneath the earth and the sky, but in the more technical sense, she isn't sure. She knows where she came from, and all she left behind her, but when it comes to her current surroundings and what lies ahead—much more is a mystery to her.]

You know—now that I think of it, I don't know if this place has a name. But maybe it does. I haven't been here long. I've been—traveling.

[Traveling is as good a word for it as any. It's accurate, if not precise.]

It's a pretty place, whatever it's called. That's why I stopped here.

[He flinches at the reach for the staff anyway, as though the blunt wood might come down on his skull at a moment’s notice.

[It doesn’t. Her greeting is gentle. Basil’s hands remain tangled, but the knots grow less taut.]

This is, ah…

[One of few places flowers grow at all, like weeds in scorched cracks. Somewhere with oddly fertile soil, as if sustained by all forced to remain below. A home for the damned, Basil thinks. No one who valued their life would stay.]

…I… call it my garden. It doesn’t really have a name.... [He laughs lightly, still on edge.] B-but some other people live here, too, and…

Did you… only stop to look around…?

[It's always a pleasant day when Aerith brings her cart out for the camp. Hero is always among one of the first in line. As a would-be "intern" to the settlement's chief medic, he's tasked with making sure the camp remains healthy - a balanced diet is certainly part of that, and becoming more and more difficult to balance. Hero used to love cooking. He doesn't get to do much of it the way he'd like to anymore, but today, there are fresh, colorful ingredients, and he only has Aerith to thank.]

Gosh, Aerith. How did you manage all this? We'll have a few days worth of good meals now.

I have my ways. It's a trade secret.

[With a wink, she smiles at Hero. The joke is clear from her tone as well as the wink, as it isn't really a secret. She's always had a way with plants. Now, when the soil's in such a state, her green thumb stands out more than ever before, now that fresh fruits and vegetables are so hard to come by. She also has a keen instinct for where wild plants might be, and some knowledge of which of them are safe to eat. She'll trade food for old guides to edible plants, when she can find a trader who has one.

Aerith could charge much more for them than she does for her produce, in the right markets, but like Hero, she would rather help the people of small settlements like this one eat better and live better. As long as she has enough to get by herself. She's not looking to get rich.]

It's not always easy, but I have to keep my customers happy, after all!

[It's a mutually beneficial relationship, really. Aerith offers the camp her produce, and the camp offers her protection, shelter, community - all things that most people are sorely lacking these days.

[She makes a wonderful addition, and it always brightens Hero's day to see her, even if it was only yesterday that he saw her before.]

Well, you've outdone yourself this time. I'm going to put something together with all this, and once it's done, you have to try the first bite.

Amphitheater Multiverse: The Wastelands

Aerith Gainsborough | FFVII

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