final fantasy

Elevate form over function to get at less easily articulable truths.

final fantasy

Postby Ultimate Philosophy 1001 » Thu Oct 12, 2017 10:14 pm

this is my final fantasy...

The year is 2050, we live in a cyber punk grim urban environment.
All of the frustrated males have used plastic surgery and other methods, to transform into visually females.
Hardened and bitter from a lifetime of lack of love, these males, visfemales, roam about the city as battle-hardened mercenaries.
Though female in appearance, they are more dangerous, more amoral than any soldier and work for the highest bidder. This is their song.


As always, Trixie is the villian of this scenario, dubbing herself "the highest class of criminal." She roams around in a gunship, mowing people down exactly like Jared Leto in suicide squad. Not a single cop interferes, as she runs the entire city, but does not truly rule it. In certain scenes, she is given a rifle to use in the middle of a combat situation, wearing the female equivalent of Charleton Hestons' dinner outfit in Omega Man, she is handed a rifle, but will put down the rifle complaining "The rifle is not of the highest class and taste, I refuse it, I want a new one."
God is dead.
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Ultimate Philosophy 1001
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