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Eclipse Phase Descriptions

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Wed, 2013-02-13 03:00

jasonbrisbane jasonbrisbane's picture

Eclipse Phase Descriptions

Hello All, I was wondering what people use for flavor text for their games. I would like to give the players a description of an area when they enter it, from a rich luxurious corporate managers penthouse to a city block in a slum district to a diner on the outskirts of a distant mars base (oh, that's been done!?) So, I was hoping to post my thoughts and descriptions here, with a heading describing the scene (Middle Class Lunar City, Titan landscape, etc). Each description will be a few lines to a decent paragraph describing the initial flavor text that a GM can describe to any player who might enter that area... I will post my first few here, and I hope you will contribute too! PS: Some paragraphs could be read individually, whilst a first timer through the street might read all of it... PPS The more we have listed here the better! If your a GM and have described an area to your players, PLEASE tell us all how you described it. We want your ideas for our games too!

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Regards, Jason Brisbane

Wed, 2013-02-13 06:43

jasonbrisbane jasonbrisbane's picture

Lunar City Poor District

The stone buildings carved out of the lunar rock glistened with too many AR ads. They sold lots of promises that few could afford: luxurious furnished apartments, speedy lunar land vehicles (custom designed for the city habs narrow city streets), Lunar Flier morphs with exotic tattoos (primarily for Martian visitors), to flourishing restaurants, electronic gear for the privacy conscious (guaranteed to work until you leave the shop), and fast grown vegetables with all your daily nutritional requirements (with none of the taste benefits of that luxury food). The street was littered with splicer morphs, and synthmorphs, intermixed with pleasure pods. Occasionally a arachnoid morph with a broken leg, or a synth or case can be seen - shunned by even the other poor around them. The similarities of the starving masses mattered little to the suits and handbags who hung off them. The occasional meta-celebrity could be seen amongst the rabble but their guards all wear the Direct Action corp logo - no-one messes with them. As you walk down the street, the alleys between the buildings hint at something darker hidden beneath the AR ridden city. Out of doorways you glimpse a Triad tattooed morph with a machette threatening a smaller morph before he slices off his hand - a minor inconvenience to the poor guy - before a VR sim of a clean alley blasts over you ecto, blinding you to the horror of the true reality of the streets. You see your target further down the block. You hurry dodging arms trying to block your way, asking for alms, you trying to ignore their cries whose voice blast through your ecto. You tell your Muse to sharpen up and get rid of the noise. Life is hard but you have to be harder if your to meet your target in time...

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Regards, Jason Brisbane

Wed, 2013-02-13 07:32

jasonbrisbane jasonbrisbane's picture

Lunar City Slum District

In this part of the city the habs themselves seem to have given up. Tin can habs have been repaired and spliced together many times over, making the original habs unidentifiable to the casual observer. Your ectos struggle to identify the many metals and habs melded together, and show a lot of conflicting data - your muse strips it with a footnote that if you really need to know, she can tell you whats there... Poking out of the even pokier habs are splicers - genefixed humans with little else. Small collectives of cases, or synths grouped together for security, wary of others around them, indicate the prejudice that the Lunar have towards these underclass. Given even less than what the other slum dwellers have, these are the true underclass of society. Signs in various racial languages indicate the undercurrent of this neighborhood, but also a thriving economy - even here. Few AR ads indicate food and equipment that only the foolhardy would try. High above, you can see the skyhook track and lunar fliers - a constant reminder of the success that the LLA promise but frequently fail to deliver. But with the PC pressure, evident even in little areas such as this neighborhood, your not surprised. Gang signs on morphs constantly change on their AR tattoos, whilst AR signs flicker with hidden vids, hinting at black market equipment that might be available through shadier dealers. You hurry through the mess of tin can habs that seem to be held together with microscopic threads of ferrous metals. Each one overhanging the alleys, promising to collapse on you. Some appear to have done just that with few morphs rummaging through it for parts and metals. As you pas by, watching more people come out of the habs and strip the area of useful parts. You continue on through you see more detritus littering the streets. You get your muse to block the horrors of these people whose suffering turns your stomach.

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Regards, Jason Brisbane

Wed, 2013-02-13 12:30

Ilmarinen

Scum Barge

The common areas of the barge are almost shockingly inoffensive. Some of the smaller Scum habitats have their own unique character that permeates every room. Not this one. The public corridors are sterile-clean, devoid of sharp corners and illuminated with soft white light that seems to seep through the walls and the floor. Lines of crisp primary color point the way for those who don't feel like navigating by Mesh. The mild infrastrucure links together a collection of chambers. Each chamber is proof against light and sound, equipped with its own air circulation system, totally separate from that of the rest of the barge, and otherwise modified to ensure that nothing except people and Mesh feeds gets in or out. Each one could be a habitat in its own right. The smallest of the chambers is three steps across; the largest contains a neighborhood of ten thousand people. Enshrouded in their own splendid isolation, these chambers are home to a thousand cultures, each one a utopia for those who choose to live there. The insides of the chambers cannot be summarized. Two doors located just across the hall lead to places more dissimilar than habitats separated by light hours. One of the chambers is a parade of garishly bright colors and generic music, eye-searing, eclectic, yet wonderfully innocent. The one next to it is opulent yet elegant, with floors of carefully nanomanufactured marble and dark wood with just the right amount of gold trim. The one next to that is a nightmare of grinding concrete walls that constantly shift to close and open new paths to the eyeless, tongueless pods dressed in black leather, hunting each other with manacles and whips. The one next to [i]that[/i] is an accounting office containing only the servers which house the thousand infomorph employees and a single IT specialist who spends most of his time arguing in Lunar chat rooms. The inhabitants of these chambers don't ever need to encounter one another. They don't need to observe anything that clashes with their own idea of what fun is. They don't need to be disturbed by a song they sort of dislike playin gin the next room over, or to breathe air that doesn't smell exactly the way they want it to. Hell is other people; [i]different[/i] people. And that makes the barge a paradise.

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[------------/Nation States/-----------] [-----/Representative Democracy/-----] [--------/Regulated Capitalism/--------]