Son of Jack Chick In Nomine - BACKWARDS!!!!!
So, maybe this
wasn't weird enough for you.
Hey, we try to please all kinds around here. Thus, let me present a mini-campaign seed for you:
Radiant Angels of the Holy Light Bulb!!!!!
Work with me, here.
Right-o, this is going to be much like the earlier
concept, with some minor changes. Well,
sort of minor.
First, dump the Choir concept. There are just angels. They don't Fall, don't ever become
dissonant, don't ever argue with the Holy Light Bulb (see below)... in short,
they're kind of boring, and not PC material at all. Their universal special abilities are: assuming celestial form at
will; speaking all languages; and looking and acting smug whenever somebody
gets damned.
There aren't any.
Nylon-Robe Jesus (see below) handles that entire sort of thing.
Living under the aegis of the Holy Light Bulb for so
long has resulted in the inhabitants of Earth being a bit, well, weird. They tend to drop Scripture verses seemingly
at random, seriously freak out over the littlest things and have a distressing
tendency to uncritically listen to anybody that can bullshit with a straight
face. Just about everybody who lives in
an area where Chickists are active will break down at least once in his or her
life and tearfully accept Nylon-Robe Jesus in their hearts. This seems to do nothing to them, except of
course to make them amazingly smug and callous whenever they see somebody else
take it on the chin. Thankfully, such a
condition rarely persists; it takes a real piece of work to stay on the path of
Chickism long enough to reach their dubious reward.
Needless to say, just about every major organization (both secular and theological) is under the control of demons. From their (apparently) unassailable, they plot to ensnare the entire world into their clutches... well, actually, Hell did that years ago. Any group that still hasn't been infiltrated is that way solely because there's no real reason to, or because they seriously disgust the average demon, or both. This seems to result in pretty much the same world as ours, oddly enough.
Mostly, Hell has such a heavy presence on the
corporeal plane because if they didn't, the entire place would fall apart in
short order - and that'd be the effective end of all the interesting new things
that humans come up with. You can't get
the dead ones to create stuff, you see.
Hey, you try getting somebody who's making up for seventy years
of boring, repressive existence to make up something new: Hell can't even blame
the poor bastards. A dirty job, keeping
the Earth running, but it keeps you on your toes.
Oh, yeah, almost forgot: one thing where this Earth differs
from ours is in roleplaying games: the male/female ratio is usually 50/50, and
let's just say that Lilim find it remarkably easily to keep Roles as
gamemistresses...
There are Bands. They are (in more or less ranking order):
Balseraphs
Cherubim
Calabin
Elohim
Malakim
Lilim
Kyriotates
Impudites
The careful observer will note that there seem to be
several kinds of angels in that list, and might wonder how to handle this. How would an angelic resonance work in this
setting? The answer is, just like
normal, unless the player would rather play the demonic counterpoint
instead. Either way, it's cool.
Now, it should be noted that this is a Backwards
game, so tone down the meanness: also, the whole point of it all is to save
people from the awful fate that awaits them in Heaven (see below), and random
destruction isn't the way to go about doing that. Racking up body counts isn't precisely in the spirit of things,
either.
Oh, yeah: any dissonance that crops up and turns
into Discord always turns into Ugly.
Jack Chick always makes demons Ugly (except, of course, for Satan: he
always takes great, nay, obsessive care to draw the Prince of Darkness as being
tall, dark and handsome...). On the
flip side, Dominique doesn't bother hunting down Renegades, mostly because
there really aren't any...
These are somewhat different, and picked mostly for
their amusement value. Go for the
stereotype whenever possible.
Andrea, Impudite Princess of Lust
Dominique, Balseraph Princess of Games
Blandine, Cherub Princess of Dreams
David, Malakite Prince of the Love That Dares Not
Speak Its Name
Eli, Impudite Prince of Slackers and Mockers Who
Send Sarcastic Emails
Fleurity, Elohite Prince of Drugs
Furfur, Calabite Prince of Rock and Roll
Haagenti, Calabite Prince of Gluttony
Khalid, Elohite Prince of the Mohammedans
Laurence, Malakite Prince of the Papists
Lilith, Human Princess of License and Licentiousness
Novalis, Cherub Princess of Witches, Pagans and
Anybody Who Eats Macrobiotic Foods
Nybbas, Impudite Prince of Purveyors of Smut and
Filth
Janus/Valefor, Calabite Prince of Criminals,
Juvenile Delinquents and Hecklers
Vapula, Elohite Prince of Secular Humanists,
Atheists, Evolutionists and Technology
... and, of course, Satan, Prince of Darkness and
general boogieman.
Just use their regular Attunements, Distinctions and
so forth - and be ready to gloss over any contradictions - and you'll be
fine.
What's that?
Not in this universe, bucko: instead, we've got 'Saved' and
'Damned'. You get Saved by accepting
Nylon-Robe Jesus in your heart and following the precepts of Chickism until
you're dead. If you don't, well... put
it this way: you start out Damned in this universe. Tough luck if you never see the right kind
of missionary, huh?
All of this means that, basically, just about
everybody ends up in Hell, no matter how nice or naughty they were on
Earth. This can be problematical, since
Hell doesn't actually want some of the nastier types coming in and
spoiling their fun - still, that's easily enough fixed by a simple post-mortem
excision. Dominique spends a lot of
time tracking down the hard-cases that slip through the first checkpoints, which
tends to make her a little grumpy at times.
"WHAT, YOU MEAN GODS?!? THERE ARE NO GODS BUT GOD! THOSE 'GODS' ARE NOTHING BUT DEMONS SENT BY
SATAN TO BRING YOU SCREAMING INTO THE PIT!!!!!"
Pretty much, yeah: Hell has been trying to break up
Christianity from day one (can you blame them, really?), and paganism seemed as
good an idea as any. So, sorry, there's
no ethereals, unless you really want them. Did I mention that the Ethereal
Player's Guide is going to be way cool?
Two words: bor-ring. To start off with, roughly 99.99999999999%
of humanity is pretty much screwed from birth when it comes to getting up
there, so the place isn't exactly crowded.
Second, there's nothing to do there, either, except of course for
sitting around and thinking fondly about the tortures of the damned that surely
must be going on down in Hell.
Third, it's kind of hard to see anything, what with the reflected
radiation of the Holy Light Bulb. So,
what you end up with are a bunch of squinting, smug, physically isolated people
in tacky robes wandering around and trying to find something to do with the
rest of eternity besides walking into each other.
Hell has made it their collective's life work to
keep as many people away from this grim fate as possible: they know just how
bad it can be. After all, they were
stuck up there themselves, once...
Now, this place is a bit more interesting. To start off with, there's more people
around (like, just about all of them).
Second, there's always something to do, which isn't too surprising when
you think about it. After all, sex,
drugs, alcohol, tobacco, television, smut, role-playing games and rock and roll
are all tools of the Devil, right?
Don't you think that would tend to imply that there'd be a plentiful
supply of all of these things in Hell?
Yup, it's all there, and the sinners that wind up
there are expected to keep sinning for the rest of eternity. This is of course, awful: after all, who
would want to be forced into despicable acts of wanton depravity with
green-skinned temptresses, their unspeakable needs hidden just below their
supple, taut skins as they sate their demonic lusts in a riotous surrender of
vile carnality all over your quivering, traitorous flesh...
Sorry about that.
Look, you get the idea, right?
Just about everything interesting, fun and/or pleasurable is a damnation
offense in Chickism, so all the good stuff is down there. Alas, your demonic PCs have a job to do,
which will keep them from going Down There too often, but then the tabletop
role-playing of a drunken orgy is not all that it's cracked up to be anyway.
By the way, I most emphatically do not want
to know if anyone ever decides to do a Live Action Backwards Jack Chick In
Nomine Role-Playing session...
Jack Chick's 'God': so called because nobody can see
his features, thanks to the extremely bright light that comes out at all
times. He hangs out in Heaven, on his
Throne, magnificently indifferent to the forces of logic, justice, mercy and
the concept of CDaU. Indeed, he never
seems to leave the Throne at all.
Possibly he's asleep, or just thinking about how to really
confuse the secular humanists - or even just too shocked with how incredibly
tacky the whole thing is to move.
Oh, yeah, sometimes he looks down and makes some
poor bugger's life an absolute misery.
The general assumption in Hell about why he does this is because the
Holy Light Bulb bores easily.
I'd feel bad about making fun of this ineffectual
dolt, but then Jack Chick's Jesus is to mine own personal vision of Him as I am
to Battle Pope. Those of you who
actually have read the Battle Pope comic books... well, look no
further for your inspiration, no matter how much the creators of it have damned
themselves by writing the thing in the first place. It's just too funny to pass up.
At any rate, Nylon-Robe Jesus runs the pitiful
excuse for a War that exists in this variant.
He sends out angels for various tasks, operates what little support
services exist in Heaven and winces every time somebody takes his name in
vain. He winces a lot - still, there's
no question that Nylon-Robe Jesus is a lot easier to tolerate than the Holy
Light Bulb, although that may just be because he's such a putz that he's not
worth hating. Hard to say, really.
One other thing: do not ask about what
happened to his mom: apparently, the Holy Light Bulb was really strict
about the rules, and, well, let's just say that they haven't been in touch
lately. Trust me, don't ask: if nothing
else, it's disgusting to see a nigh-omnipotent entity bawl like a four year
old...
Because you just can't get the right materials this
days, apparently. These angels
are included for those of you out there that want your recommended daily
allowances of ultraviolence: Old Testament Angels fit the bill nicely. They combine Seraphic arrogance, Ofanite
resonance, Habbalite bloody-mindedness and Malakite immunity to Trauma: perfect
baddies to mix it up with the Calabim and Malakim, in other words. Sprinkle in some of the more obnoxious
Choir/Band/Servitor Attunements, and you're good to go...
I didn't think so: between saving the humans from a
fate worse than death, thumbing collective noses at the Holy Light Bulb and
beating Old Testament Angels into bloody smears, there'll be plenty to do for
long enough. After all, I'd hardly
suggest that this elaborate, over-extended bad joke be a long-term campaign...
...for that, you want to go here.