The Infinite Heavens
A mind expanding journey of Enlightenment, Violence and Blasphemy across the uncharted realms of the afterlife
You died. At some point, somewhere. And now you're here. Here is a bit complicated; those nice compact heavens and hells of the meat realm have no bearing here. Some say that every god, hell, heaven, demon, and realm of deathly habitation dreamed of by man, beast, alien, or office furniture has ended up here; an endless plane of questionable morality and painful geography. Others say that this chaos is the corpse of god, rotting down into infinite, mindless creation. But most simply ignore these questions and live an undying life of repeated incarnations as they see fit; living, dying and returning elsewhere as something different.
You're recently incarnated yourself, maybe it's the first time and you've just died in the old meat realm of mortals or maybe its your 10,000th time and you're the spirit of a velociraptor. In any case, you've appeared in an upstairs single suite at the Motel 9 somewhere along the road in the 88,888,888th hell. It's a desert with tiny eyeballs instead of grains of sand, with a burning, eyeless baby vomiting flaming pitch onto the distant horizon instead of a sun. As far as hells go, it's not bad. The pay-per-view in the room is lousy though, nothing but X-rated nature shows.
At some point last night you wandered into the motel lobby and, amongst many many MANY beers, made a pact with 4 other motel patrons. A pact of the grandest significance imaginable. In this world of endless heavens, there must be a first. The First God and the First Heaven, the progenitor of all that has come after. And you, and your very drunk compatriots, have made a solemn vow to find this god and that heaven. Or become gods yourselves. Or find a nice heaven to settle down in. The details are a bit hazy, but it was very important and inspiring, and involved getting out of this hell, you're sure of that. And you're pretty sure you remember peeing on a potted plant, but that's not important.
You woke up this morning, laying on the floor in the lobby. The Manager- an amiable giant praying mantis in a vest and bow-tie - is dead, slumped over the front desk with his head missing. Outside is his jeep, fueled and ready, red leather seats beckoning. Your companions are starting to stir and awaken. There is only one thing to do: make good on those drunken pronouncements of valor and poor planning!
Roadtrip!
This is a game. A game about going to weird places with weird people and trying not to die in the process. See, you're dead, so you can't REALLY die, right? But if this body gets killed, you'll just reincarnate somewhere else. And this plane of existence is infinite, so good luck finding the party again. Anyways, yeah, even though this is using straight RTD, it's not some minimalistic no rules, anything goes, anarchist slap fight. No you can't roll 5 and pull a rocket launcher out of your pants. Stick to being mostly realistic in this completely unrealistic and surreal environment. Ah, you'll probably get it. And if not I'll just have you fail and make fun of you.
It's straight RTD. I can't be arsed to keep track of you and your numbers, all skittering around like the bugs in my head. So no leveling. If you're gonna get better it's gonna be through something weirder then slowly increasing numerals. As you stare at hell, hell is gonna stare back and make lewd gestures. And if people start thinking you're a pretty cool guy, you might actually end up as one.
But you will get bonuses when doing things you're good at.
Don't try to abuse that or I'll abuse you.
So you do it like this, see:
Name: This is what we call you.
Soul: What you originally were, back in the mundane world, and how you died. See, because the soul of every man, animal, alien, plant, and created thing shows up here in the infinite heavens, you could have the soul of anything from a random tax accountant, to blueberry bush, to an extra terrestrial staircase. Just try to keep in mind that whatever your soul is of, it should probably color your perceptions as a character. If you were that staircase, you'd probably have a real interest in feet.
Incarnation: This is what you are now that you've shown up in the infinite heavens, your personal description. You can be the same as your soul, or something completely different. This place has a sense of humor, and rarely do people end up with the same body as they'd expect. Just keep in mind that what you are will determine your level of capacity in the world; don't make yourself a fucking lamp unless all you want to do is get carried around and speak in Morse code by flashing your light and get drunk by dipping your power cord in booze. Oh and a few caveats:
1. It has to fit in the fucking car. No T-rex, no ICBM, no 50 foot model of one of them anime girls with the short skirts.
2. Try not to be too much of a mary sue. You've got a lot of wiggle room here to be what you want, but the second someone comes in as superman prime or naruto or anyone that gets more powerful via yelling and believing in themselves I'm having one of the incalculable gods crush your head and insult your genetic lineage.
3. As things go on, assuming you survive, there's a good chance you're gonna get weirder. The infinite heavens is a strange place, and there's no telling what is going to happen to you; so it might be a good idea to start off as something somewhat mundane. I mean, if you start off as an accountant, it's really gonna show when you grow those extra eyeballs. If you start out as a hovering rubic's cube made out of frozen blood, you're actually probably gonna work your way backwards towards the mundane, because thats your strange. Does that make sense? No? Ah well whatever.
What You're good at: Up to three SPECIFIC things you're good at. No you're not just a "Master with any weapon", jackass. Maybe you're good with a pistol, because your soul was that of a police man. Maybe you're good with clockwork things because you were a watch maker. Maybe you can lick your own crotch because you were a cat. You get the picture. Oh and the more things you choose, the less good you are at them. If you were good at three things, you're pretty good at them. But if you're only good at one thing, you're REALLY good at it. Again, be specific or divine head crushing.
What you're bad at: Same as above, but...you know...the reverse. You've gotta have at least 1.
Your Hopes: What do you hope to do in this unending life? What do you want? What are you hoping to see or do or experience? What is your own, personal heaven?
Your Fears: What are you afraid of? What do you want to stop from happening, or never to happen? What is your own personal hell?
What you need to survive: Humans need food...and water...and air...and a lot of things really, they're quite whiny. But food and water are the important ones here. The jeep needs gasoline, or a similar flammable substance (this one can run on burning pitch too). No matter what you are, you need something to maintain yourself. If you're a relatively normal living critter, you'll just need snacks and drinks. If you're an animated skeleton, you might need fresh blood or maybe a very set of circumstances, like laying out in the light of a full moon at least once a month. I don't know, skeletons are weird. In any case, you need something, and you need it fairly often. What is it?
What's in your pockets: This is your starting inventory. No you don't have a gun in your pocket, fuck you. No, I don't care if you incarnated as a cop or a soldier or megatron, you don't have a fucking gun. Or a sword. Or a battle ax. Or a grenade or a stick of dynamite or a vial of nanomachines or a power gauntlet or a green lantern ring or whatever other thing you're already thinking. At best you have a pocket knife. Or maybe a claw hammer. Or an ice pick. Or something like that. Probably shouldn't have any weapons. Don't fuck with me here, or I'll nail your hand to your knee. If you really can't think of anything, stick your hand in your pants- no the side pocket, not the middle one- and pull out whatever you've got in there. That's your inventory now. Is it lint? Well then you better hope someone up the road is willing to barter for lint.
If you're one of my starting 5, then you show up on the floor of the motel 9, as the intro would suggest. If not, you'll show up somewhere along the way, hanging out at a gas station or in a seedy bar, or maybe crucified along the road, because you deserve it. Whether or not the party picks you up is up to them, so try to be as appealing as you can. Show some leg, you hussy.
So yeah, make a character and post it and it's first come first serve.
We also have a wiki (page) now:
http://einsteinianroulette.wikia.com/wiki/The_Infinite_Heavens
Author
Topic: The Infinite Heavens: More than one way to skin a cat. (Read 351075 times)