You wake up in a small, cramped motel room wearing a cheap suit and a collar around your neck. The rules are simple: create enough tl;dr to fill the gaps of amatomnes's financial system in two weeks (or... however long it takes) or EVERYBODY DIES.

There are some problems with how the economic system of Atia currently functions. This is known. What is not known is how best the game can resolve these issues using practical worldbuilding strategies. Jon-mod has given us the option of having a semi-open forum to discuss possibilities, brainstorm, and talk fictional economies.

Things We Can Discuss:

• How does the currency exchange work? Why does it work?


• What keeps the island from being overwhelmed by inflation?


• Why do merchant ships bother to come here?


• You get the drift.

Keep in mind that "a wizard did it" is a totally valid explanation in this game. We just need to know where the wizard is in the overall equation.

This is not official worldbuilding for the game. What this is is brainstorming strategies to present to the mod team for further discussion and workshopping before it is presented to the community at large. This is but a stage one. It is being conducted with Jon-mod's blessing but the mod team is under no obligation to accept anything that we come up with here.

Rules:

1. You may suggest anything that you can rationalize using precedent, outside examples in fiction or the real world, economic theory, or extrapolation.


2. Citing game canon (information pages, network posts, logs, etc) is helpful and encouraged.


3. None of us are economists (I think) so if you are asked to phrase something in simpler terms, do so.


4. You are free to disagree with others' points or suggestions but you are strongly encouraged to give reasons why.


5. Also, if someone disagrees with you, take it in stride. Discourse is to be kept civil. This is workshopping, not a debate. That means that all ideas are fair game, and no one person's economic model is going to be "the best."


6. This should go without saying, but leave your politics at the door.


7. Cursing good. Vituperative rants directed at no one in particular good. Personal attacks bad. Porn good, but not in this post.


8. Something about... Lancer needing women... I dunno.

Have at, my nerdy comrades.

The Outer Heaven Warehouse (now known as Outer Heaven: House of Optional Clothing) is a three story structure located near the outskirts of the Third District. For reasons of security, it continues to appear abandoned from the outside. There are traps near the entrances, the stairwell leading from the first to second floor is blocked (necessitating use of the elevator, hard to reach, or the fireladder, very unsafe), and residents are advised to keep windows shuttered when using electric lights.

The second and third floors have been refurbished to break down the larger storage rooms into personal quarters. There are two bathrooms equipped with communal showers. The kitchen and dining area is located on the second floor. The armory and mini-firing range exist... somewhere. Finally, the roof provides a nice view of the surrounding slums and the near beach.

Exterior. Imagine this but taller and broader.

( Floorplans. Residents, come claim a room! )

( Questions? )

LEGEND (adapted from philanthropism):
♥ - Neutral to slightly wary. People he doesn't know enough about.
♥ - Acquaintance. People he's talked to occasionally and believes they may be reliable.
♥ - Good acquaintance. People he talks to on a regular basis and considers tentatively trustworthy.
♥ - Ally/close friend. People he's able to confide in and trust with the important things.
♥ - Crush. People who are subject to his infatuation.
♥ - Love. People he truly, deeply loves, be it in an intimate way or through self-made familial bonds.

✖ - Pests. People he generally dislikes.
✖ - Enemies. People he considers a threat to both himself and his friends.

A + indicates that Gray Fox has had sex with that character.

A strike through a name indicates the character has left the island.

Last updated: 10.22.09

( Castmates )

( Cross-Fandom )

Stats
it should really go without saying, but by necessity some of this is headcanon. I have tried to rationalize it where appropriate.
Name: Gray Fox ((Established civilian alias, Frank Hunter. Legal name, Frank Jaeger. Birth name, Hai-Lam Roth.))
Gender: Male
Zodiac Sign/Birthday/Age: Leo/August 15th/40s ((However, his legal documents state his birthday as February 3rd, the date Big Boss filed his papers.))
Bloodtype: A
Occupation: Lieutenant of Big Boss's PMC, the Dogs of War. Formerly top FOXHOUND agent, previously a mercenary, a "lost number" operative of the FOX unit, a child soldier irregular of the FRELIMO, and before that a child laborer in a Vietnamese work camp. Kids don't know how easy they've got it these days. :\
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Sexuality: Painsexual, otherwise unconcerned. ( tl;dr explaining my take on his sexuality. )
Weapon: His weapons of choice are blades, especially the machete and the katana. Since the general rule is that Fox Excels At Everything, expect him to be formidable with large and small arms, unconventional weaponry, giant robots, and his fists. His personal hand-to-hand style is piecemeal, a little bit from everywhere, with formal training in CQC and several martial arts styles as well.
Eyes: Gray.
Hair: White. His bangs have grown long, touching or going past his eyebrows. On missions he is seen keeping it back with a red bandanna.
Physical traits: Fox measures 181cm/5'11" and weighs 84.5kg/187lbs, built essentially like an Olympiad. He is covered in scars, although his face is abnormally clear of most damage, owing to reconstructive surgery. He is canonly described as "handsome" and is of a mixed-race heritage, half Vietnamese and half German-American.
What's Okay To Mention Around Him/Her: Politics might get him in a bad mood. Otherwise, anything.
Abilities: He can move his katana/machete fast enough to deflect bullets, demonstrates inhuman levels of persistence, and is one of the only individuals that Ocelot cannot control. That sounds supernatural to me.
Notes for the Psychics/Aura Readers: Fox is a trained operative of a unit well-accustomed to dealing with psychics and telekineticists (in fact, some of the unit were these). While there is no canon evidence of how he responds to psychic invasion and control, as a top-ranking FOXHOUND operative, he probably has some skill in resisting mental influence. In MGS1 (where he is revived as the undead Cyborg Ninja) we see him fight against strong physiological and mental conditioning to reassert his own personality, so he probably has the ability to retain some sense of self with enough effort. That in mind, woe betide anyone who actually gets a glimpse at the rat's snarl that is his psyche anyway, even with the best intentions.

Permissions:
Attack/Injure: Yes.
Intoxicate: Yes.
Mindfuck/Rape/Torture/Kill/etc.: Yes to most things, but clearly these are things we'll need to discuss beforehand.
Hug/Kiss: Yes.
Sex logs: Yes.
Read your thoughts/emotions: N/A for Amat
Threadhopping/threadjacking: Please don't unless you get permission.
Filter hacking: Yes, unless the filter is listed as unhackable.

Anything else?
-Fox's wiki entry.
-It is important to note that in the Metal Gear Solid canon, all characters experience life through a HUD and take for granted many video game mechanics. That said, Fox himself has never ICly broken the fourth wall, so he will avoid doing so in Atia.
-Because of restrictions on "supernatural" powers, Fox is also currently unable to freeze time with his radio and heal himself by eating rations. He does heal faster than average, however.

How he has changed in Atia:
-Fox is SIC to Cherry Darling of the Outer Heaven warehouse crew, and has grown accustomed to protecting the interests of their little unit as well as cooking/cleaning/repair work.
-He has died three times. The first death erased his memories of his comrades in the FRELIMO and the FOX unit. The second death erased the faces of his men in the Dogs of War. The third death cost him his sight in his right eye.
-He knows the broad strokes of what happens to him in the future.
-Despite her numerous attempts on his life, Fox is determined to thwart the goddess Atia and break her hold over the island's inhabitants.
-He carries Raiden's HF blade, left behind when Raiden left the island.

Contact:
Email: webmasterATkaroseDOTcom
IM: Der Menschenhass
Crit/Feedback: Here. Comments are anon-enabled and IP logging is off.
For fastest contact: IM or LJ PM, please.

Through the travail of the ages,
Midst the pomp and toil of war,
I have fought and strove and perished
Countless times upon this star.

In the form of many people
In all panoplies of time
Have I seen the luring vision
Of the Victory Maid, sublime.

I have battled for fresh mammoth,
I have warred for pastures new,
I have listed to the whispers
When the race trek instinct grew.

I have known the call to battle
In each changeless changing shape
From the high souled voice of conscience
To the beastly lust for rape.

I have sinned and I have suffered,
Played the hero and the knave;
Fought for belly, shame, or country,
And for each have found a grave.

I cannot name my battles
For the visions are not clear,
Yet, I see the twisted faces
And I feel the rending spear.

Perhaps I stabbed our Savior
In His sacred helpless side.
Yet, I've called His name in blessing
When after times I died.

In the dimness of the shadows
Where we hairy heathens warred,
I can taste in thought the lifeblood;
We used teeth before the sword.

While in later clearer vision
I can sense the coppery sweat,
Feel the pikes grow wet and slippery
When our Phalanx, Cyrus met.

Hear the rattle of the harness
Where the Persian darts bounced clear,
See their chariots wheel in panic
From the Hoplite's leveled spear.

See the goal grow monthly longer,
Reaching for the walls of Tyre.
Hear the crash of tons of granite,
Smell the quenchless eastern fire.

Still more clearly as a Roman,
Can I see the Legion close,
As our third rank moved in forward
And the short sword found our foes.

Once again I feel the anguish
Of that blistering treeless plain
When the Parthian showered death bolts,
And our discipline was in vain.

I remember all the suffering
Of those arrows in my neck.
Yet, I stabbed a grinning savage
As I died upon my back.

Once again I smell the heat sparks
When my Flemish plate gave way
And the lance ripped through my entrails
As on Crecy's field I lay.

In the windless, blinding stillness
Of the glittering tropic sea
I can see the bubbles rising
Where we set the captives free.

Midst the spume of half a tempest
I have heard the bulwarks go
When the crashing, point blank round shot
Sent destruction to our foe.

I have fought with gun and cutlass
On the red and slippery deck
With all Hell aflame within me
And a rope around my neck.

And still later as a General
Have I galloped with Murat
When we laughed at death and numbers
Trusting in the Emperor's Star.

Till at last our star faded,
And we shouted to our doom
Where the sunken road of Ohein
Closed us in it's quivering gloom.

So but now with Tanks a'clatter
Have I waddled on the foe
Belching death at twenty paces,
By the star shell's ghastly glow.

So as through a glass, and darkly
The age long strife I see
Where I fought in many guises,
Many names, but always me.

And I see not in my blindness
What the objects were I wrought,
But as God rules o'er our bickerings
It was through His will I fought.

So forever in the future,
Shall I battle as of yore,
Dying to be born a fighter,
But to die again, once more.

-Gen. George S. Patton, Sr., 1922