Dissidence

Metru Nui. A place where the sun is silent.

I suppose it began when the democratic elections we once prided ourselves on ceased. Turaga Dume declared himself king and abolished the Senate, which didn't really bother us at the time. It was stupid of us, we later knew, but Turaga Dume was like a father to us, and taking that into consideration, we did nothing. Slowly, though, the beings who had once populated the streets with such diversity, such life, had been brainwashed. They were idealists, arresting someone for so much as making a dirty joke in a public area. I know a guy who personally stood outside the police station and tied an RC helicopter to his-well, you get the picture. He's serving twenty years in prison now...or was, before they found him hung in his own cell due to "suicide." You get a lot of that in Metru Nui.

My name is Jolek Highwind, and I was a martial artist/all-around funny guy who wandered around Metru Nui looking to do whatever I could in the name of SCIENCE. After the crackdowns and the growing tyranny, though, I started to lay low. One night, after I heard about a friend's death in a holding cell, I went to a bar to drink away my problems.

This is the part where I meet Castor Troy.

Castor was skinny, tall, brash, charismatic, handsome, funny, and too damn fearless for his own good. He wasn't held down by the limits of normal life; rather, he saw beyond all that and could almost predict the future based on a single choice, weighing the consequences in a quarter of a second. His philosophy in life was that anyone could beat the crap out of him at any time, but the stupid bastard on the giving end of the punches couldn't kill him, because of the two of them, Castor Troy was the one with nothing to lose.

Anyway, Castor and I got to talking about the state of things, growing a friendship of sorts and we were about to leave before Castor punched me in the face in an alcholic brain fart of sorts. Now, being the upstanding martial artist that I am, I couldn't have that. So Castor and I ended up getting into a fight, one that left us both bloodied and moaning in the parking lot. A couple of others came and started their own fights. Most sensible people would consider this the part where you stumble home and try to steel yourself for the hangover. But Castor Troy wasn't sensible, especially when said hangover hit.

He bought the bar with all of his life savings and invited all his friends, many of whom had actually survived prison (no small accomplishment these days) and we started up a fight club in the basement of that dingy Ta-Koro bar. Several others began doing the same thing and reporting to Castor, and in two weeks, we had raised a small army, which he later confided to me was part of a mega birthday present to himself.

He's announcing the purpose of his "present" tonight at the original fight club. He's invited me, his best friend, to help him co-lead whatever it is. Thing is, I dunno if I really want to...

-Jolek Highwind

Welcome to Dissidence, an atypical resistance game. You see, you won't be fighting with bullets or knives...at least, not mainly.

You'll be fighting with humor.

That's right. Your job is to stretch the ruling party of Metru Nui thin with the stupidest crap imaginable, bribe or take out as many cops as you can and show the people that they don't have to be afraid. The goal isn't to win, though that would certainly be great; no, the main goal is not to lose.

You'll be fighting cops, Vahki, and in some situations, yourself. But if you can pull it off, you'll be a legend.

Of course, all legends have to die sometime, right?

Fight Clubs

There are several fight clubs in each Metru. The leader of each fight club is a member of a committee that is based in the center of each Metru, each representing the opposite of that Metru's core value.

Ta-Assault
Ga-Chaos
Le-Isolation
Po-Defilation
Onu-Misinformation
Ko-Panic

Any member of a fight club can fufill any kind of assignment related to these six committes, but they have to be approved by a majority of each commmittee. After all, Metru Nui is a democracy, right? The only people who can fufill an assignment without approval from the committees are Castor and Jolek. Either of the two can veto any decision made by a committee.

Locations

Ta-Metru-District of Fire and industrial leader of Metru Nui. The first fight club was founded here by Castor and Jolek, and it was one of the quickest to spread. Mask makers and blue collar workers slam each other into oblivion in bars all around the city.

Ga-Metru-Peaceful district of Water in Metru Nui. This was one of the last districts to have a fight club founded within its borders, but it's caught on like wildfire. Students and sometimes teachers make up the fight clubs here.

Ko-Metru-Philosophy practically wraps itself around Ko-Metru, leading to pent up scholars duking it out in the fight clubs here. This was the last district to have a fight club founded.

Po-Metru-Creative district of Stone and a fight club safe haven. The fight clubs here are filled with carvers and stone masons who want to get out their unused creative energy.

Onu-Metru-Knowledgable district of Earth. Not as many fight clubs here, but the ones that exist are extremely hard to find. Archivists who want to learn about something beyond museum exhibits and actually experience human contact brawl around the entire basement.

Le-Metru-Bustling district of Air. Fight clubs spread pretty quickly in Le-Metru, and are filled with test pilots who want to control their own lives and don't feel like becoming some wall stain in the Moto Hub.

Factions

The Trojans-Castor Troy's group of fighters and criminals. They're not nearly as open with their identities, but they strike from the shadows, mixing humor, aggression, and the will for freedom.

The Mob-The organized crime on Metru Nui. They hate the government just as much as the Trojans do, but they view the fighters as little more than an unorganized group of street thugs.

The Protectorate of Metru Nui-The government, led by Turaga Dume. They're uptight, vicious, and willing to arrest you for any little thing you do. Pretty much everyone will hate you if you play as one.

-Spawn

OOC: If I have to post a character profile here, tell me.

IC (The Devil's Door):

"So get the meeting started!" called out a voice from the back.

Despite the Toa's voice being masculine, his armor was light blue over his silver under-armor. He raised a half-filled glass mug to his lips and took a hearty gulp; some of the beer dribbled down his Kanohi Kakama's chin, but he seemed not to notice.

Slamming the mug back onto the table forcefully enough for the table to rattle, he said, "Stop your talking and get on with it! What are we gonna be doing, eh?"

OOC: Yep, it's Nova. Except, a drunkard, rebellious Nova. =3

IC (The Devil's Door):

Minor uproar.

Nova stood up himself. "Heck yes! 'Bout time someone decided to clear out this hellhole!" He waved his tankard around; a good few drops of beer flew out.

IC (The Devil's Door):

"And this 'dungeon'," asked Nova, setting down his mug again and stepping forward. "Where is it? I sure don't wanna have it here; the drinks are too good." A couple people chuckled around the Toa of Fire.

IC (The Devil's Door):

A fire lit up in Nova's eyes. It'd been there the whole time, really; just subdued. Turaga Dume was hated throughout Metru Nui. The only reason he remained in power was his large army of Vahki. Take those out of the picture--

Well, ugly things would happen. Dume trapped in a cage surrounded by Rock Lions, for instance.

On second thought, that was the most beautiful scene Nova had pictured in the entirety of last year.

"Then what're we waiting for?"

IC (The Devil's Door):

Once more Nova grabbed his mug and took a large gulp, letting the amber liquid wash down his throat refreshingly. "I don't know about you all," he said, "but I sure think we aren't getting anything done if we stand here talking. Let's get out there and let all Karzahni break loose."

He held up his empty left hand, palm up, and concentrated. In the space of a second a blue flame had leapt into life, flickering there, oddly silent. A flash -- he was remembering the years before Dume had taken control, when he was training with his fellow Toa; when he proved the smartest and strongest of them all, running from the Vahki even as his companions were taken into custody; and when he saw on the giant viewscreen in southern Ko-Metru his friends be cruelly executed--

His hand closed tightly. Flame flickered between his fingertips for a second more. Then the fire was extinguished.

Like so many noble warriors' lives. Like the democracy Metru Nui had once held dear.

"I'll be waiting upstairs," he finished, in little more than whisper. He turned, opened the door and walked through, closed it gently behind him, all the while his memories fresh in his eyes.

Another mouthful of beer found its way into his stomach.

OOC: Jsyk, not posting profiles is the standard in all high-brow RPs. I'm serious. There, it's considered downright illiterate.

IC: In Ga-Metru, a lone Toa of Plasma wearing a Hau strode along the street. He clenched his fists, gritted his teeth. About the only productive stuff he was doing lately.

Why was this so hard?

He simply did not understand something. Dume was acting more and more authoritarian by the minute. Something was wrong.

Talmai was not a Protectorate officer. More like, he collaborated with them in times of necessity. And those times of necessity were often enough for him to realize that Dume was not the leader he was back in the day.

Worse was, he had no idea what to do.