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577KiB, 735x1000, Join The Enforcers Propaganda poster - over 6 hours of work.png
<span class="mu-s"> You are 18 years old in the year 1949. </span> You live in the Republic of Talus, formerly known as Kostovia. The Enforcers will have you pinned to the ground, or worse, shipped to The Office for interrogation, if they even suspect you of being a Kostovian loyalist. You forgot your name a long time ago. Your friends call you Anon. You live in a shanty-town built by homeless locals here.
You're wearing a torn trench coat, with thick winter pants. You've got a roll of bandages, a small rusty key, your grandfather's .30-06 rifle, and 6 rounds of ammunition. Your friends,
Kjell; a tall, blue-eyes, blonde-hair Swedish immigrant, who wears the Kostovian military uniform. He's equipped with his lucky swiss army knife.
Then, there's Jacob; 5'2, jet black shoulder-length hair, with a light t-shirt and cargo pants. He's equipped with a 10mm pistol and 20 rounds of ammunition.
After the leaders of what used to be Kostovia launched nuclear weapons at the USA, the people expected to have retaliation nukes upon them at any moment. They didn't come. The nuclear weapons launched by Kostovia fizzled out over the sea. After that close encounter with total annihilation, the people overthrew the Kostovian president by breaking into his bunker and hanging him, along with his cabinet.
After this, a radical party thought once to be only foolish power-hungry fascists were elected. The party that promised <span class="mu-s"> peace, security, and stability. </span> That was their motto, and the people, after near nuclear-annihilation, wanted it dearly. And so, the Republic of Talus was born. Now, those damn enforcers lurk every street corner, with their stone mask burned to their face, their suit and tie, and distinctive yellow and black armband.
I spent 6 hours hand-painting the picture attached to this thread. It's been a month, I was on hiatus, but I'm back and ready to continue this story.
>Last thread,
An Enforcer named 139 ran into your shanty-town who claimed to have broken free of his brainwash and wants to help your cause.
When questioned, surrounded, and put at gunpoint, he cried out;
> "THEY--- THEY FORCED ME TO SHOOT My own.."
> "they forced me to shoot my own father.."
> "I couldn't take it anymore. In the dead of midnight, I snuck out from my post claiming that I was on a smoke break. They haven't noticed yet, but if I don't get back soon, they certainly will."
You and your friends sent him on a mission to get more Enforcer outfits to use as disguises, hoping this would prove his loyalty. You have a radio that you can talk to him through, as well as hear him. He encountered his Commander who's following him, and now 139's gotta get him off his back.
Kjell has an idea. He speaks into the microphone of the radio..
<span class="mu-s">.. Kill him. He can't be trusted, he's too far deep in the brainwash.
.. Try to convince him that the Collective is evil, and with his help, can be taken down.
.. Knock him out and tie him to a fence.</span>
Write-ins encouraged!
You're wearing a torn trench coat, with thick winter pants. You've got a roll of bandages, a small rusty key, your grandfather's .30-06 rifle, and 6 rounds of ammunition. Your friends,
Kjell; a tall, blue-eyes, blonde-hair Swedish immigrant, who wears the Kostovian military uniform. He's equipped with his lucky swiss army knife.
Then, there's Jacob; 5'2, jet black shoulder-length hair, with a light t-shirt and cargo pants. He's equipped with a 10mm pistol and 20 rounds of ammunition.
After the leaders of what used to be Kostovia launched nuclear weapons at the USA, the people expected to have retaliation nukes upon them at any moment. They didn't come. The nuclear weapons launched by Kostovia fizzled out over the sea. After that close encounter with total annihilation, the people overthrew the Kostovian president by breaking into his bunker and hanging him, along with his cabinet.
After this, a radical party thought once to be only foolish power-hungry fascists were elected. The party that promised <span class="mu-s"> peace, security, and stability. </span> That was their motto, and the people, after near nuclear-annihilation, wanted it dearly. And so, the Republic of Talus was born. Now, those damn enforcers lurk every street corner, with their stone mask burned to their face, their suit and tie, and distinctive yellow and black armband.
I spent 6 hours hand-painting the picture attached to this thread. It's been a month, I was on hiatus, but I'm back and ready to continue this story.
>Last thread,
An Enforcer named 139 ran into your shanty-town who claimed to have broken free of his brainwash and wants to help your cause.
When questioned, surrounded, and put at gunpoint, he cried out;
> "THEY--- THEY FORCED ME TO SHOOT My own.."
> "they forced me to shoot my own father.."
> "I couldn't take it anymore. In the dead of midnight, I snuck out from my post claiming that I was on a smoke break. They haven't noticed yet, but if I don't get back soon, they certainly will."
You and your friends sent him on a mission to get more Enforcer outfits to use as disguises, hoping this would prove his loyalty. You have a radio that you can talk to him through, as well as hear him. He encountered his Commander who's following him, and now 139's gotta get him off his back.
Kjell has an idea. He speaks into the microphone of the radio..
<span class="mu-s">.. Kill him. He can't be trusted, he's too far deep in the brainwash.
.. Try to convince him that the Collective is evil, and with his help, can be taken down.
.. Knock him out and tie him to a fence.</span>
Write-ins encouraged!
