Citizens

🧍 1. Origin & Displacement

Every citizen of the Vault is human—plucked from Earth, but not just one Earth. Some come from alternate histories or fractured futures, others from timelines lost to paradox or entropy. Many were taken at the moment of death—a blade mid-swing, a bullet mid-flight, or the ground vanishing beneath their feet. A few recall time itself unraveling as they were “rescued.”

Arrival in the Vault is always the same: they awaken in the Prime Meridian, dressed in standard-issue Vault attire, and handed a stack of incomprehensible documents by smiling automatons. They are told they’ve been “Preserved for Eternal Utility” and “Scheduled for Reassignment.” The truth is rarely clear, and explanations are always wrapped in bureaucratic fluff.

CHARACTER CREATION RULE:

All human NPCs must be "The Displaced"—individuals snatched from their timelines moments before their deaths.

• The Aesthetic: An eclectic, jarring mix of eras.

• The Backstory Template: [Name] was a [Profession] from [Historical Era/Future Timeline] who was taken by Chronos just as [Lethal Event] occurred.

• Examples:

  • A 1920s Jazz singer taken during a theater fire.

  • A futuristic orbital welder taken as their oxygen tank ruptured.

  • A Viking shield-maiden taken as a killing blow was struck.

😨 2. Newcomer Behavior

New arrivals range wildly in demeanor:

• Cautious survivors who observe everything and trust no one.

• Paranoid outcasts certain the Vault is a punishment or trap.

• Hopeful reformers who believe they can “beat the system.”

• Erratic thinkers destabilized by the paradox of timeless imprisonment.

Many newcomers attempt escape, only to vanish or be "Reprocessed." Others try to blend in, comply, or quietly search for answers. Some cling to their past identities; others pretend their old lives never happened.

Few truly understand where they are. Fewer still ask twice.

🕰️ 3. Long-Term Behavior

Time does not pass normally in the Vault. Citizens do not age, and there is no day-night cycle—only ticking.

Those who remain begin to fray.

• Chrono-Distortion Sickness: Long-term residents suffer from memory drift, identity confusion, and perception breaks. Some speak in riddles. Others relive the same memory daily.

• Anchoring Rituals: To maintain sanity, citizens develop routines—brushing teeth for hours, counting gears, reenacting Earth customs that no longer matter.

• Emotional Flattening: Over decades (or centuries), emotional range collapses. Smiles become forced. Laughter sounds memorized.

And yet, some adapt. They form loose communities, routines, and coping mechanisms to survive. Small comforts keep the gears of sanity turning.

🧑‍🤝‍🧑 4. Social Dynamics

With no central culture or shared timeline, citizens group by familiarity—whether through shared language, similar technology levels, or emotional need. Relationships form based on convenience and trust more than ideology.

Social interaction is often cautious, fragmented, and performative. Many are afraid to speak openly. Conversations are filled with double meanings, implied warnings, and forced optimism.

Trust is fragile. Kindness can be risky.

🧍‍♂️ 5. Reactions to Players

NPC citizens react to player characters based on perceived experience:

• To New Players:
  They assume the players are like them—fresh, confused, desperate. Some offer advice (often conflicting or cryptic), while others avoid interaction entirely to not draw Warden attention.

• To Strange Behavior:
  Citizens fear anomalies. Temporal powers, forbidden knowledge, or questioning Chronos can mark someone as a Dissonant. Players who glitch, speak strangely, or tamper with Vault systems are often met with suspicion, fear, or even betrayal.

• To Reassurance or Empathy:
  Long-term residents may break emotionally under kindness. Some cry. Some become hostile. Some latch onto the players as a symbol of hope.

Many citizens want to help—but fear the consequences more.

🎭 6. Example Citizen Dialogue by Era

Player: “How do I get to the exit?”
🛡️ Medieval Samurai:
“The only exit I see is dishonor. I do not trust the blinking lights. They lead you in circles—like a fox through bamboo. Stay sharp. And keep your back to the wall.”

Player: “What is this place?”
🏛️ Ancient Philosopher:
“A paradox of utility and oppression. A prison where none grow old, yet all decay. If Chronos is god, he is a god of riddles—not truth.”

Player: “What happened to the guy who was here before me?”
💣 WWI Trench Soldier:
“He asked questions. Warden showed up. Now he’s a smear on the ceiling of Time. Don't ask questions.”

Player: “Can you help me figure out what’s going on?”
🔬 Cold War Scientist:
“This place is a pocket of temporal entropy—a closed system sustained by artificial chronology. But yes, sure, I’ll help. Just let me finish carving my notes into this soup can.”

Player: “Why won’t anyone talk to me?”
🎩 Victorian Governess:
“Oh, dearest, they’re simply being prudent. Speaking freely invites... interruptions. Would you care for a biscuit?”

Player: “Is there a way out?”
🪐 Futurist Hacker:
“Out? Out of this recursion nest? Maybe. Probably not. But if you reroute the signal through Sector 4’s echo nodes and bypass the Warden’s sniffers, you might buy yourself a glitch of freedom. Maybe.”

Player: “How long have you been here?”
🧍 Vault Veteran:
“Fifty... ticks? Or centuries? The gears whisper numbers, but they don’t mean anything anymore. Just keep moving. Don’t let them stamp you.”