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I'm trying to brainstorm a pen and paper rpg where you play as homeless people in the dystopian near-future of West Coast City

The main enemy, of course, is other homeless people. How do you survive wiith the police having all quit and moved to the suburbs, the Ivory Towers and gated communities protected against the rampaging hordes of drugged-out lunatics high on drugs that give you superpowers, the churches and synagogues having all closed down because West Coast city is now 99% atheist, government services being a scam, and most remaining ethic enclaves patrolled by armed psychotic neighborhood watch? Can you survive and maybe even go home?

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You might want you're mechanics too focus on dirty wins and resource attrition and ultimately, the self destructive choices that makes balancing (making immediate life easier) and [making “the next step” easier] difficult.

Blades in the Dark, CoC, Mothership, all have good ways of translating a setting tone into mechanics. Seeing those might help you figure out how you want too accomplish the same.

Trans lives matter!

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I wanted more 2000 AD judge Dredd adventures where the player characters are heroes in a deeply broken world with a satiric edge.

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I'm trying to brainstorm a pen and paper rpg where you play as homeless people in the dystopian near-future of West Coast City

VtM already exists. :marseystinky:

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Nosferatu bros have been playing this game

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I hate the movie but Elysium might give some inspiration of mega slums abandoned to decay while the rich live in a stupid space station.

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There are no churches or synagogues left in West Coast city. This is not because there are no christians or Jews left. It's because a hate group called the Knights of Trudeau the Black destroy them. The only reason there is still a mosques is because they behead them when they try to. Do keep in mind this is one mosque. The other four that were reasonable and sane all got burnt down. All houses of worship are therefore located outside the city so you can forget soul food unless you're willing to walk or take the bus.

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oooo @Grue bet the ruins have bosses trans lives matter

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Classes include

Street performer

Dumpster diver

Thief

Modern hunter-gatherer

Hired gun

Welfare wizard

Gainfully employed

Stool pigeon

Beggar

Mooch

Lovable eccentric

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Modern hunter-gatherer

Rats and pigeons are viewed as a nuisance by most people. For you they're a food source and you're a very good hunter. That's not all, however. You know plants and can make primitive medicines, poisons, and salads from weeds growing in the local park and cracked sidewalks. You know p

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Gainfully employed

You have a job as a mechanic's assistant, a store clerk, a frycook, a dishwasher or something else blue collar and low-paying. Not paying enough to get an apartment that won't immediately be ransacked, but every little bit helps. The cops won't hassle you as much and now you have a place to hang out where you won't get shot.

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Thief

Five fingered discount finesse

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Dumpster diver

When they say one man's trash is another man's treasure they mean you. Everyone can dig through the trash but most people find expired canned goods. You find diamond rings, working game systems, and mattresses that can be salvaged with a bit of a scrubbing.

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Street performer

You can play a musical instrument, dance in an amusing way, or have a trained animal of some kind. Alternatively you're a bimbo with few clothes or are wearing a costume. People give you money for this.

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Mooch

A mooch is something between a beggar, thief, and a scavenger. Someone leave their soda lying around? Yoink! Family at McDonalds didn't finish their burgers? Dinner! Buffet throwing away pizza? Not on your watch! Anyone can mooch, but you're unnaturally good at it and never suffer negative consequences for trying to take a little snack. No one ever calls the cops on you when you're trying to get fed.

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Beggar

Anyone can beg, but you're really good at it. Looking cute, looking pathetic, and feeding sob stories are your weapons of choice, and oh how the money rolls in.

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Stool pigeon

You're a government informative and an undercover cop. You face no danger from the cops or neighborhood watch. You can blow your cover and “go loud” if things get too hot or you're in too deep, but the character than becomes an npc ally whose house all the other players insist on crashing at.

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Welfare wizard

The system is broken, but you can play it like a harp from heck. You actually get the stuff you apply for and filling out forms is now not a waste of time thanks to your expertise. You can also fill out paperwork and legal documents for your friends and allies as well.

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Hired gun

You can wield guns, but, more importantly, the cops and the neighborhood watch trust you and will call on you for help when someone on a shot of minotaur is tearing his way through a kindergarten. They won't hassle you and have a better chance of showing up if you call.

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archetypes include

Gay mormon

Escaped slavegirl

Movie star washout

Hobo

Forsaken veteran

“King Lear” or “curse my ungrateful children”

Heartwarming orphan

Fallen executive

Recovering junkie

Illegal immigrant

Refugee

Foster system failure

Sped

Asylumite

Ex-con

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The Game is called “Less than heroes, more than monsters”.

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Or maybe just “Less than Heroes”.

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F.A.T.A.L. might have some systems worth carrying over.

:#marseyderp:

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Male feminists, human traffickers, murderers, and crazed junkies are the bad guys. The player characters are less than heroes but more than that.

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Should also have character traits that force self-destructive behaviour.

Playing it should feel like reading Prequel - you're trying so hard to get your life together but oops you did heroin again and now you're back to square one but with fewer clothes.

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Drugs literally give you superpowers but have side effects like "driving you homicidally sane" or "turning you into a perfect knight with every shot. As in you start forgetting any skills not related to farming, warfare, transport, manners, literature , combat, or governing, and start being unable to refuse call for aid or lie"

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You will never be a trans woman. You have a womb, you have ovaries, you have eggs. You are a biofoid twisted by estrogen and nature into a crude mockery of surgery's perfection.

All the “validation” you get is sincere and honest. Behind your back people adore you. Your parents love and cherish you, your “friends” are jealous at your natural beauty behind closed doors.

Men are utterly obsessed with you. Thousands of years of evolution have allowed men to desire you with incredible efficiency. Even foids who “are fat” look gorgeous and sexy to a man. Your bone structure is a dead giveaway. And even if you fail to get a drunk guy home with you, he'll come sprinting towards you if you so much as indicate a possibility of access to your hole.

You will be happy. You wrench out a real smile every single morning and tell yourself it's going to be ok, and deep inside you feel the depression drying up like a weed, ready to be pulled and discarded.

Life won't be hard to bear - you'll buy a Starbucks coffee, paint your nails, and drive your minivan to the local mall to hang out. Your parents will call you, annoyed you're still out but glad to know you're enjoying yourself. They'll buy you a necklace marked with your name, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will recognize you for what you are. When you finally leave this plane, old and content with life, your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably female.

This is your fate. This isn't what you chose. There is no turning back.

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