Es un juego de rol muy independiente pero claramente es una joyita distopica
Para el que conozca es como Paranoia pero este si es bueno ;)
Solo voy a dejar parte del lore que me parece exquisito
Day In The Life of a Regular Citizen
Everyday you wake up and stare at your FleshHub for 3-4 hours without moving. This is what you perceive to be leisure. Your eye movement and dopamine production are tracked and compiled into an actionable data report used to generate ads tailored to your phrenological profile. The Torment Algorithm has crafted a version of MallNet just for you: you never see opinions that might offend you and you never see ads for things you wouldn’t buy. It's safer this way. Thank you, Torment Algorithm.
To drown out the bad thoughts, you turn on the radio (we still have those) and listen to 87.9 The Wound with Dizzy Jim and The Moloch. They're interviewing Dr. Jenny Denklin about a new study that proves Communists are the root cause of the skyrocketing crime rate. This aligns with your lived experience. You definitely saw a communist loitering outside the Soy 2 Go last week. You make a mental note to file a report with the HMPD.
You drift in and out of psychosis to Dizzy Jim's dulcet voice:
* …certain skull shapes are naturally more adept at navigating virtual wealth management tech…
* …ad for that new fuckable alarm clock. Yeah, that one…
* … a few more sessions and my piss chakra will open, Moloch, I'm telling you…
When the program ends, your FleshHub prompts you to send the station a tip. You do so, happily.
You get ready for your 17 hour shift at the Dick Sucking Factory. First you vape your antidepressants, then your prescription nootropics, then a painkiller to hold off the oncoming migraine and heart murmur. It's casual Friday, so you put on clothes you bought 3 months ago and haven't had a chance to wear. Your shorts say "Big Dumpers For Sale." Hilarious. They're already falling apart.
You excrete. You think completely normal thoughts about what you'd do to that communist.
Your SmartToilet logs your log’s density, colouration, and microplastics. 647 particles/L, down from last week’s 654 particles/L - a new record! As a reward for achieving your health goals, the Algorithm determines that your body can tolerate additional particulate. A new menu item unlocks on your pneumatic FoodTube’s touchscreen. You order it. You leave a generous tip.
You eat what might be human flesh squeezed into a synthetic casing, delivered to your Pod steaming and ready for consumption. It tastes okay. The Torment Algorithm reminds you that you will be late if you take the time to brush your teeth, so you don’t.
There is shouting outside, then gunfire. What is the HyperMall coming to? You check the 3D-printed laser you bought last week. Seven shots before it melts. You open the door.
You are greeted by the HyperMall’s trademark stale air. You step into the fluorescent hallway and turn towards the shouting. If you don’t hurry, you’ll be late. If you’re late, you’ll lose your HabPod. If you lose your HabPod, you’ll be nobody. No, positive thoughts. You take a deep, wheezing breath.
A 5.56 round blasts your cerebellum through the back of your skull before you have a chance to take another step. Bits of brain paint the sidewalk and the half-closed door of your HabPod. Your neighbours, also on their way to work 17 hours at the Dick Sucking Factory, don’t look up. You do not know their names and they never learned yours. The cops who shot you ransack your apartment.
For a time you cannot perceive, there is silence.
You awaken naked. You are floating in a sack of warm slime two or three feet above the floor. A nutrient-rich umbilical braids into your abdomen. Your fingers extend, flex, and grow. You inhabit new flesh.
You hear a ding and a pop. The umbilical detaches from the machinery above. You feel sick. You cannot breathe. Gravity takes over as the CHRIST’s artificial wombs splits open and dumps you onto the metal...
Para el que conozca es como Paranoia pero este si es bueno ;)
Solo voy a dejar parte del lore que me parece exquisito
Day In The Life of a Regular Citizen
Everyday you wake up and stare at your FleshHub for 3-4 hours without moving. This is what you perceive to be leisure. Your eye movement and dopamine production are tracked and compiled into an actionable data report used to generate ads tailored to your phrenological profile. The Torment Algorithm has crafted a version of MallNet just for you: you never see opinions that might offend you and you never see ads for things you wouldn’t buy. It's safer this way. Thank you, Torment Algorithm.
To drown out the bad thoughts, you turn on the radio (we still have those) and listen to 87.9 The Wound with Dizzy Jim and The Moloch. They're interviewing Dr. Jenny Denklin about a new study that proves Communists are the root cause of the skyrocketing crime rate. This aligns with your lived experience. You definitely saw a communist loitering outside the Soy 2 Go last week. You make a mental note to file a report with the HMPD.
You drift in and out of psychosis to Dizzy Jim's dulcet voice:
* …certain skull shapes are naturally more adept at navigating virtual wealth management tech…
* …ad for that new fuckable alarm clock. Yeah, that one…
* … a few more sessions and my piss chakra will open, Moloch, I'm telling you…
When the program ends, your FleshHub prompts you to send the station a tip. You do so, happily.
You get ready for your 17 hour shift at the Dick Sucking Factory. First you vape your antidepressants, then your prescription nootropics, then a painkiller to hold off the oncoming migraine and heart murmur. It's casual Friday, so you put on clothes you bought 3 months ago and haven't had a chance to wear. Your shorts say "Big Dumpers For Sale." Hilarious. They're already falling apart.
You excrete. You think completely normal thoughts about what you'd do to that communist.
Your SmartToilet logs your log’s density, colouration, and microplastics. 647 particles/L, down from last week’s 654 particles/L - a new record! As a reward for achieving your health goals, the Algorithm determines that your body can tolerate additional particulate. A new menu item unlocks on your pneumatic FoodTube’s touchscreen. You order it. You leave a generous tip.
You eat what might be human flesh squeezed into a synthetic casing, delivered to your Pod steaming and ready for consumption. It tastes okay. The Torment Algorithm reminds you that you will be late if you take the time to brush your teeth, so you don’t.
There is shouting outside, then gunfire. What is the HyperMall coming to? You check the 3D-printed laser you bought last week. Seven shots before it melts. You open the door.
You are greeted by the HyperMall’s trademark stale air. You step into the fluorescent hallway and turn towards the shouting. If you don’t hurry, you’ll be late. If you’re late, you’ll lose your HabPod. If you lose your HabPod, you’ll be nobody. No, positive thoughts. You take a deep, wheezing breath.
A 5.56 round blasts your cerebellum through the back of your skull before you have a chance to take another step. Bits of brain paint the sidewalk and the half-closed door of your HabPod. Your neighbours, also on their way to work 17 hours at the Dick Sucking Factory, don’t look up. You do not know their names and they never learned yours. The cops who shot you ransack your apartment.
For a time you cannot perceive, there is silence.
You awaken naked. You are floating in a sack of warm slime two or three feet above the floor. A nutrient-rich umbilical braids into your abdomen. Your fingers extend, flex, and grow. You inhabit new flesh.
You hear a ding and a pop. The umbilical detaches from the machinery above. You feel sick. You cannot breathe. Gravity takes over as the CHRIST’s artificial wombs splits open and dumps you onto the metal...