I have deleted the other RP, to replace it with this newer one. I feel this one is better. It is in an Apocalyptic Wasteland, though. This type of subject is just easier to work around.

Now, please view this link to read the posting rules. It'll explain how to join, as well as show the story itself on there as well.

Click on me

Now, after you read and follow the directions, and you understand them, then you can join in on the RP. Also, to make it easier, post on the link provided, telling us that you understand the rules.

The first person to make a character on the site listed, will be the first one to post on here.



Titan, a massive world with plentiful resources, filled with an over- abundance of life. Though no matter how rich in resources this world may be, it is still a breeding zone for blood, somewhere in the near future. The Prophecy speaks of ill omens soon to come.


5 years come to pass, and the Prophecy has come true.

There are 2 main fractions taking over a good portion of this world. The New Generation who uses technology such as steampunk, and the Ways of the old - The Users of Magic. They both loathe each other's existence. They think the other side is too stubborn for their way of life, and thus feels they would be better off as dead, and themselves being the rulers of the world. Each side underestimates each other's powers, though, and thus get in constant battles without knowing what they are going against. This makes for a really bloody battle no matter how you look at it.

Both sides are plunging the world into a never-ending darkness.
This world has slowly begun to diminish. The once colorful Flora has already been rotted away. The grass, the trees, the flowers. All rotting away into a dark brown mess. The water now a diseased ridden cesspool surrounds much of the world. The only thing else left to drink is "Purple surprise". A drink comprised of many different materials, all of which is questionable to consume. The blood stained battle grounds, in which held much of the major battles, has seeped into the ground, causing a new type of vegetable to grow. These Vegetables are known as Bloodroots. They are very healthy for the people of Titan, considering there isn't much else. But they are known to drive a lot of people who consume it insane. Insane enough to go on a mass-homicidal rampage. They only stop when their body is burned into dust. This is because they feel no pain, and can continue on without much, or any of, their limbs. The dust is then placed into capsules, and sold on the Black Market as a form of bio-warfare. The dust is much stronger than the Bloodroot, and causes immediate reactions upon the consumption of the dust. They call this type of weapon "Noman" because no man can withstand it's reactions.

The women, however, are immune to the dust. This is unknown to them, and thus women have now been allowed entry into Military ranks to fight alongside the men. With them fighting, they have no real time to start or raise families of their own, and those who do get to, are dirt poor. Most of the people die on their first day of battle, as it is.

Many years have passed since they allowed women into battle. The lands are crumbling, lava has found it's way up out of the ground and has taken over much of the western coast, and the storms have gotten worse. The fighting hasn't stopped, though, and won't stop unless someone does something about it. There is no schools, because they expect kids to die during their 10th birthday, due to the chemicals in the air and the lacking of resources. Those who do survive are placed right into training camps, to join into the wars with their family members.

The Magic users do the same with their youth. They are placed in a study of sorts to learn nonstop ways of magic. To use the best magic that they can. The fighting is brutal. Science against magic. Technology against age. It is up to someone to put a final stop to this.

You wake up finding yourself in a sweat, because you had the dream about how the great wars started, and you find yourself in your room. Your weapons and armors beside your bed, whilst the sun barley showing up behind the dark clouds of death. The smell of your rotting breakfast churns your stomach and forces you to finally get up out of the old wooden bed. Your covers smell of the old and dying culture that was once a good time. You get up to meet what little bit of sun you can, before getting dressed and heading out the door to see_______.