New Obscura
Well, since at the moment I don't really have anything overly interesting to do...

I guess I can start up this one idea...
It is a RPG for this one metropolis either: futurisitc, and/or anachronistic...
Originally, I was going to call the city: New Victorianism, but I wasn't really in the mood for a 19th century sci-fi role-playing game...

The aim of the game is to make it interesting, seemingly realistic, and a touch of strangeness and mystery...
People can play multiple roles, like a person can play both a detective and a robot or a janitor and a bartender... Just as long as you don't play too many people, I'm fine with it.
Replies to this thread can effect the storyline and can add background history as to what New Obscura is...

New Obscura
(I'll start things off...
I'll play Samwise Tapestry for right now...)

The 197th Street Bar

Samwise Tapestry sat upon the bar-stool, drinking the beverage of his choice, although, since it was one of the synthesized types, unclear as to what it was actually made of. Next to him, was the fountain pen, and paper.
Unfortunately, writer's block took hold, and was seeping into his mind. Just waiting for creativity, he just drunk the glass, and glanced at the telescreen which aired
reports from WeatherControll about how the Order is trying to take controll of how the wind moves, and to which way clouds go... Not an overly interesting report.

The cyborg bartender polished the pseudo-wooden counter, and spoke very little.
Seemed more like he was artificially produced by one of the corporations.

As Sam seemed to got a half-baked idea, just as he got his hand ready to move the utensil to spread the ink in a presentable and coherent manner, the Bar's door slid open, and someone came in...
[Tags anyone... ]

It was a cold, rainy night as Corwin made his way down the dark sidewalk, he pulled the trench coat up tight around his neck, in part, cause of the chill, but too because the bleeding was getting worse with each step, but what could he do.. He didn't know who he was, where he was...nothing...except someone had just tried to kill him, he had a old .45 auto in one pocket, and a note with 197th Street Bar scribed on it..by his own hand in the other, and a bullet hole in his right side. As he neared the address, he tried to straighten himself up-right...he knew he needed a doctor..but he needed answers worse..and who could he trust. As he entered the bar, despite his wishes, he collapsed upon entering...rolled face up once...saw a figure with a scarf around his neck...then all went black.

Angel watch the guys (I'm trying to say a bad word but can't)fily. She wasn't going to do anythig about it, just watch. Take notes. FInd a reason to. She'd been given a piece of paper earlier. 197th Street Bar. She didn't know why she had to go there, or who sent for her. Or who gave her this note, it was just someone that had dropped in near her. The note say

"Angel, 197th Street Bar" It was a sgraggy piece of paper, wripped and slightly burnt. She thought she had best get over there. It could be important. However could being the operative word here.

New Obscura
Samwise Tapestry of Forger's News & iNformation League™.
The 197th Street Bar

As the trenchcoated figure collapsed right there and then at the very threshold of the rather ancient bar, Samwise got off from his stool and examined him.

From some shrouded wound: blood took the route of gravity, and was spreading much downwards. Since medicine was definitely not his field, he knew not what his next move should be...
So out of his first leap of desperation, he looked across the barroom frantically to see if there might be a chance an answer is lying out there for him to solve this current problem.
His swift but jagged view was occupied by a possibly decades old tavern that has gone through too many refits after what should have been its death. With nearly no customers, aside from the woman scribbling something down on her memo book, a fedora-hatted fellow in the corner, and a drink-serving corporation drone, he didn't see a good deal of options..

He had a vague memory of medicinal sciences from his early lessons at the education camps aeons ago... But that seemed quite unreliable, since it seemed too foggy for him to correctly grasp. Despite that fact, he did what he thought was appropriate, and did series of events (that he hope) will treat an injury of this kind with the few supplies from one of the wood-cabinets.
With optimism: an eventual recovery might be expected, but this wasn't his expertise, and an expert was what he thought was needed at that moment.

But after treating the stranger, he thought, since he was, after-all, a reporter for Mr. Forger, questioning the lady, the fellow, and the automaton may shed some light on this quite clouded mystery...

NOTE: Don't restrict yourself to simply the 197th Street Bar, and Tapestry is not the main character. He's just a reporter who reports the news, whether it be real or manufactured.
New Obscura is a big city, and can be a place of a good number of adventures, misadventures, mishaps or disasters....
Depends on how this thread goes, and continues.
You can start out another storyline if you'd like to.
Perfectly fine, and I encourage it.
You may PM me the details, questions, or comments if you'd feel like doing so.

Anyone interested in resurrecting this RPG?

How much time had passed?
Corwin didn't know, his first memory was of the bright white ceiling light above his hospital bed and vague flashes of being submerged in some kind of liquid tank with all manor of tubes running into and out-of his body and androids! He quickly looked around....the bed was hovering off the floor about 4ft.....this wasn't Earth at least not any time he was familiar with...maybe a future earth???