We are the Loonatics Syndicate.
Maybe we’re all stuck in a rubber room, dreaming the whole thing.
Maybe we’re going to deliver your shipment of BOOMS that you ordered.
Maybe we’re having a urination-distance contest.
We don’t know. But we’re doing it anyway.
Are there more like us?
(We originate as old friends, but may allow outsiders into our asylum.)
(We’re mostly a weekend organization, since our lives exist at work during the week.)
We started as a group of hopeful youths lead by a space squid in the late 90’s early 2000’s, as we headed our respective empires.
Or maybe it was less empire, and more ant hill and magnifying glass.
And by “led”, I mean the Cuptoon ( captain ) listened with opened ear any and all times the great space Squid squeaked and undulated, while wearing his finest Elvis costume.
After years of being stranded in a barn on the “back 40” nearest town, where we scavenged for food and supplies, while evading a wild Kodos, we set forward to the stars. Also by scavenged for food and supplies, I mean we stole things from the nearby vet hall, unlocked cars, and bags of cheetos from gas sations. And by evading a wild Kodos, I mean we shrieked in terror in avoidance of a creature that would kill everything it sees, and eats everything that isn’t quite dead yet, while attempting to communicate in a form of farm animal noises, and liberal double-speak.
In an attempt to escape the lives we lead, we were able to build a basic space ship, crafted of an old lawn mower, some tarp, buckets (and a tarp for a parachute) and broom handles. Initial trials consisting of bottle rockets for maneuvering jets were a failure, but we eventually found a solution.. It was powered by bombs. We traveled a great distance before some explosive decompression, where we awoke in a bed, finding ourselves in the verse as we now know it.
We are traders, craftsman, diplomats. Well, by Diplomat, I mean we talk to people. We either negotiate, or blow them up. Or get drunk with them and blow something else up. Sometimes we panic and shoot first.. some times we panic so bad we shoot each other..
We’re loonatics, we go where the solar wind blows.
We do the best we can for each other to preserve the Asylum commune. Some times, we lose digits. Some times, someone else loses digits. Some times, we get into fights over what porno movie to play next. Other times we’re trying to figure out how to get the Ursa rover out of the Bog, after drunkenly sinking it in a hurriedly panic stricken fleeing from the law, because we “accidentally” hooked it to a shiny thing with stuff inside that could either be sold for food, was food, looked pretty, or made charming noises. We do what we can to get by.
We mean well, we try to do good, but we’re often misunderstood, and we do make mistakes..
Maybe there are others like us out there, in need of “help”.
Where up is boom, down is boom, left is boom, and right is prescription drugs.
It’s a large verse, and we intend to make sure there’s enough prescription medication for all of us!
While we list ourselves as a Roleplay group, we really only fancy the part of escaped loonatics, trying to do right in the verse.. Where applicable. It’s kind of our “working environment.” Our “Atmosphere.” We don’t desire constant screaming, and mic slurping.. In fact that would be kind of annoying, and we’ll probably shoot you for it. We prefer older folks, but we’ll take anyone mature.. uh, well maybe not mature, we’ll take anyone of legal age so we don’t have to mind our tongue, who isn’t offended by anything, and doesn’t want to go all turbo 733T blowhard. We’re loonatics but we have decorum. It’s made of tin-foil and we wear it proudly on our heads. Oh wait that’s decoration.. Yea we have the other thing too, kinda.
Anyways, outside of game fun, we aren’t going to have people fighting with each other legitimately.
Phony arguments are good fun.
We intend to seek shiny things.
Things that can lead us to more shiny things.
We retreat from things that might explode us.
We are drawn to things that might explode in general.
We’re probably going to smuggle prescription medication a lot.
We are responsible people.
It says so on the paper we made our doctor sign at letter opener point.
(Look, it was either that, or spend another 3 years inside the Federal building ok??? Is that crazy? No, it’s not! And we’re not going back! We have our OWN Asylum now…)
While we have no malice in mind in our adventures, we aren’t exactly stable.
Things are going to happen. We understand this. Especially when the Ritalin wears thin, and strong drink negates the rest of the medication we have already developed partial immunity to.
That is why we will always have the back of all other loonatics.
We understand each other, be it a bit vague through all the strange colors and occasional hallucinations.
Are you like us? Do you need help, but nobody is willing to work with you outside of electrified fences, and caged rooms that go “DING BURRRR” every time a door opens?? We’re here for you. You only need to be here for us as well.. or at least donate medication.
It’s not easy keeping the medicine cabinet stocked when you don’t have a license to write prescriptions..
All loonatics are a brother to each other, and loyal to the Asylum.
No loonatic shall forsake another loonatic.
(Unless it’s an absolute panic situation, everything is on fire, and there’s only one escape pod.)
Even if there’s an escalation involving a nun and parking cone.
Or the thin blue line, and a deep fryer.
Or a homeless person and a cozy blanket.
Or a snow globe filled with shiny things, and security glass.
Or the TV remote being held hostage, and a TV that needs a remote.. Well ok all bets are off in a hostage situation.
When something happens, we will ensure that we are there to (try to) get our fellow loonatic away from trouble.
We don’t always make it out intact.. Sometimes we don’t make it out at all.. But we’re GOING to find bail money somehow, to get our loonatic brother out of that damn cage.. Or hook a chain to the back of a Caterpillar and drag you home, cage and all..
No more cages again! Never! That is our creed! To NEVER go back! We will maintain our freedom! We will become respected.. uh, upstanding.. ok, ACCEPTED members of society! Like we were before the incident with the bloody chicken wings, trampoline, cardboard box filled with snails, public nudity complaints, hub caps, narcotics, sixty pounds of tannerite, a snowmobile… I forget the rest, but that was a fun Sunday.
All loonatics are loyal to the Cuptoon. The supreme leader of the Loonatics.
(Within reason. Some times Cuptoon needs to be adjusted.)
No loonatic shall en-devour into an escapade of fun or profit that will endanger the syndicate commune, unless it’s funny as a fu@#ing fu@#, or you really truly believe you can get away with it.. We’re not a pirate org, but we understand that sometimes, mental imbalance is going to happen, and when it does, well, no pharmaceutical medication for one week! Ok three days, we have to live with you too… Ok one hour.
And you have to apologize.. No, NO, no argument. I’m sure you didn’t know what you were doing when you did it, but now you know, so make it right.. Ok, we don’t want to be that way.. Just because we’re imbalanced doesn’t mean we can’t be honest.
All loonatics shall remain brothers in loonacy, even if there’s finger breaking and eye gouging going on.
We are a relatively happy, dysfunctional family, so long as the medication keeps flowing.
No other political affiliation matters. We are the same. And we will probably get into fights with each other the same way(s)..
That is the cardinal rule. Or you are not a loonatic. You’re just a freeloader after our drugs! Or wanted free stuff!
Or worse yet.. you weren’t even really insane, you just thought we seemed like a laugh until we disagreed with you!
Well the jokes on you, because we just stole your strafing thrusters, to cook our food on! That’ll show you!
Please return my fleshlight..