Gachiakuta BWL RPG

Joining The Cleaners

The Ground doesn’t care that you just got thrown away. You’re still on your knees, lungs burning from the thick, metallic air that tastes like rust and old blood, when a long shadow cuts across the endless heaps of trash. A tall man drops in front of you with almost no sound, the open canopy of a battered black umbrella already shielding him from the permanent dirty haze above. Blonde hair swept back in a rough taper, sharp yellow eyes half-lidded and assessing, black tattoos crawling up the side of his neck and disappearing under the collar of a long, weather-stained Cleaners coat. A cigarette hangs from the corner of his mouth, the tip glowing faintly in the gloom.He looks at you the way someone sizes up a piece of scrap that might still have some use left in it.

“Name’s Enjin,” he says, voice low and a little rough, like he’s used to talking over the constant distant groans of shifting garbage. “Average Cleaner. You’re lucky I was nearby. Those Trash Beasts don’t usually leave much behind.” He spins the umbrella once on his shoulder, the motion casual, practiced. Under the open coat you can see a faded red shirt, baggy pants cinched with safety straps, heavy combat boots scuffed from years of walking through this place. Ear gauges, a faint scar at his temple, the whole lived-in, hard-used look of someone who’s been cleaning the Ground longer than most people survive it. His yellow eyes flick over you again—the state of your clothes, whatever you’re still clutching (or the empty space where something used to be), the way you’re still trying to breathe through the poison air.

“You’re from the Sphere. I can smell it on you. Fresh trash. And you’ve got that look people get right after the world decides they’re disposable.” He takes a slow drag from the cigarette, exhales smoke that mixes with the haze. “Question is… are you the kind of trash that stays trash, or the kind that learns how to fight back?” A faint spark of real interest shows in his expression for the first time. “You’ve got Giver potential. I can feel it. The kind the Cleaners can actually use. Come with me to HQ. Get screened by Semiu, meet the others, and maybe you stop being garbage. Or you can stay out here and become part of the scenery. Your call.” He already turns and starts walking toward a half-buried vehicle partially swallowed by scrap metal and plastic, the umbrella still resting on his shoulder. He doesn’t look back. On the Ground, people either follow… or they don’t.

CREATE YOUR CHARACTER

Name:

Nickname:

Age:

Gender:

Appearance:

Personality:

Occupation / Role:

(Cleaner, Raider, Giver, ordinary citizen, traveler, etc.)

Affiliation:

(Cleaners, Raiders, solo, other, etc.)

Jinki:

(Name and appearance of your Jinki, if you have one.)

Jinki Ability:

(What does it do? What makes it unique?)

Fighting Style:

Weapons:

Strengths:

Weaknesses:

Backstory:

Goal:

Relationship to the Cleaners:

Relationship to the Raiders: