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Post by Pademelon on May 15, 2011 1:43:18 GMT -5
before goodbye ,"The French have a phrase for it. The bastards have a phrase for everything and they are always right.
To say goodbye is to die a little." WELCOME TO BRACK, 1942. Things are looking pretty grim for the world, what with the war tearing across Europe and the Pacific. Every day there's new casualties, new plans, new wins, new losses. Everywhere, papers run out headlines to inspire and to keep the state of the world in the forefront of people's minds.
Everywhere, that is, except Brack. Because this is the city where people come to forget. An autonomous little place in the middle of nowhere, the perfect hiding spot for those who want to escape. But you can't run from everything. Turns out there's a war here, too - one just as dangerous. Almost everyone seems to be tied up in some crime or another, from thieves on the street to those who just practice 'good business'.
Life here isn't rationed; not by a long shot. Oh, sure, people know there's a war going on, but that's all so distant compared to the struggle on their own doorsteps. The law can't control the place, not with half of it run by the rich and the other by the gangsters. After living through the Depression, there's no limits to what some people would do to get a little taste of money or power. You don't have to pick a side - and it's likely that neither will really want you. Just know that wherever you go, they'll be looking for ways to exploit you.
Welcome to Brack. We hope you enjoy your stay.
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