Northport
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Hi! This is the Northport FFRPG, a modern setting in which anything from this or any other planet (but no gods or angels, not even Northport's citizens know who is right on them ) can meet or mangle without teh unawakened humans seeing anything but normal humans, if with rather large noses, and Awakened ones enjoy a drink with the undead owner of Mercury city's very own bar The Trombone!

The OOC is here so feel free to introduce yourself.

[Oldtown]

It's been raining for a long time now.

The days and nights just run together with a sky so perpetually dark. They flow. Out across the sea and into the city, across the roofs and down the gutters. Into the sewers and off to gods knows where. Day to night and night to day in a city that never sleeps. No sunlight worth mentioning. Not a star in the sky. Only bleak gray clouds and harsh electric glow.

It's been raining for a long time now.

Taxis sloshing through the flooded intersections here in Oldtown, pedestrians huddling behind umbrellas to avoid the spray. You might think we have a few rivers for roads. An errant splash and a ruined suit and tempers rise. There have been lots of rising tempers of late. The dreary weather is starting to sog up our souls just as it has our city. Faces as cold as the wind.

It's been raining for a long time now.

A banner hangs limp across the Museum of History, proclaiming to all the awe and wonder to be found in the new Mesopotamian exhibit. There aren't many here that have been feeling much wonder, let alone awe. The wind has been tugging at it, leaving it tattered and worn. You might think it a relic of bygone decades from its state. But inside... inside all is clean and dry and dark, only the patter of rain and the click-clack of footsteps in the shadows break the silence.

And the hum.

The hum of an incessantly flickering florescent lamp. It's been changed five times now, but it has yet to help. Must be the wiring they say. And so too does the room flicker, casting dreadful shapes in the darkness. Statues and fetishes and old urns once forgotten by time. Somethings to that would have best been left forgotten. The grotesque idol sits atop the pedestal below a protective shroud of glass and motion-detectors. From its throne it leers out across its dark little domain, a squat demon of jet hued jade.

There it waits.

It's been raining for a long time now.

And it leads one to wonder-

-why?


[Curtistown]

Here, civic funding seems to have hit a low point. Spiderweb cracks on the pavement where dying grass peaks through, rough gray pavement with it's network of tar-filled crevices... Even the lamps come on at night in flickering spurts to briefly shine their weak, yellow light before drifting back into hazy darkness. Here, the wind whistles past the door-frames with a cold wailing and the cozy noises inside come out warped, faded. The laughter just behind inside those walls drifts through to feel like a memory not quite forgotten in a place that seems to be all but left to the doldrums.

Where the houses end and the market begins, neon lights glare harshly through the gloom as some declare themselves to be OP_N at best while others just show brief signs of life before descending back into a slumber. A few 'cellar stores' with their steps leading down off the street seem to be a slow decent into the very realm of shadows from which return is a question asked by only the most hopeful. During the day, the smoke from the industrial sector clouds this part of Newport in an almost eternal gray, muted, fog. Even the streets here have only the occasional sign of traffic, pedestrian and otherwise and every third shop's front holds outdated merchandise covered with varying degrees of cobwebs as if the owner simply got up and left and never bothering to hang up the 'CLOSED' sign. Each one of these small stores sitting like a discarded skin of a snake or spider, holding things now old and rusting from a bygone age, their tarnished signs echoing sharp squeaks as they sway in the gentle breeze.

These are the lanes less traveled to some yet those most familiar..... To Others...


[Mercury City]

The quick-tempo slap of feet on concrete creates a smooth backbeat in which this glitzy, gaudy, and glamorous section of city revels in. The glimmering chrome and art deco from long past still holds its charms and many a resident of Newport says that it only gets better with age. Restaurants with their doors thrown open waft scents, some saucy and some sweet, in hopes of enticing anyone off the street to come in and 'tickle the ivories.'

And what is dinner without a show? Big bands with their brass and bass, polished to a mirror finish, tap out a thumping theme while sultry singers soothingly serenade their listeners' souls from the stage. For those with tastes more refined, a theater house one might find illuminated with bright lights, their names blared into the night like a crisp clean note from a silver trumpet with neon signs. Be it a stage show or a super-sized silver screen, each is sure to please. For those inclined for a more active role in their entertainment, look no further than the classy clubs dotting the street. Each has its own flavor from old-style sit-down speakeasy to the photoelectric post-modern in which to dance the night away.

Mercury City is the heartbeat of Newport from dusk to dawn to dusk again and there is never a last call.


[Harbor District]

Thousands of people work in the Harbor District, yet it still seems empty, like some long forgotten ruin. The air is clammy and thick in this place, where the smoking by-products of industry blend into the endless mackerel sky. Abandoned factories yawn like monsters of concrete and rusting metal, while squat, gray production facilities operate like guarded compounds, walled away from some unseen enemy. Further out, one can hear the lonely calls of hunting sea-birds and see the harsh glow of the northern Atlantic. Most people avoid the Harbor District..people simply feel, unwelcome, as if they were in someone else's home without their permission. It's a hard feeling to define, and most would simply rather avoid it...
Welcome to Nortport, the city where everything on the globe and beyond meet and mangle. From mighty trolls to tiny Will O'the wisps, from aliens to amateur magicians.

It all meet under the cloudy skies of Northport.

But this may be about to change.

It all started with the rain, a depressing heavy rain that never ends, and soon more followed. Illusions faded and eyes that once saw clearly where clouded by the rain that never ends. The laughter of pixies and gnomes playing tricks on the passerbys has silenced and the chatter of intergalactic languages to the tune of the zombie jazz players of The Trombone has lowered to barely a whisper.

People are dissappearing, many kinds of people. First eyes turned to Vigil, the men, women and various others in black who seemed to be in control of everything and making sure the wheels turned in secret, but no ears have heard from them in a long time now.

All they hear is the rain, it began neverending but now some say it foretells the end of Northport.

Others still hear but a long rain or even the call of a grand adventure.

Which are you?