Fungula Rasa

This is a supplement for Lichoma: A Meatpunk TTRPG.

Meat. It fuels the Wen, placates the Cogs and Chumps, and keeps the Cunts awash in opulence. Anything disrupting that perfect triangle of misery is a threat. To not participate in the meatonomy is tantamount to treason, an affront to Cunts who keep the Wen operating, and punishable by death. Meat and blood. Blood and meat. It is all we have. All we are. Anything else is anathema. It must be cut out and killed like the diseased, rotten flesh that it is.  

This time the Butchers — hungry for the power meat brings and always looking to exploit it — have gone too far. Deep under the Meatworks, in secret labs, they’ve tried to supplant attempts at vat-grown flesh, and it has gone so very shockingly wrong. Terrified of the horror they have wrought and the long-term implications to the Wen, they have turned to outsiders to clean up their mess. They know the Elites cannot find out about this. With little more than a promise for your weight in raw flesh, the Butchers have hired you to descend into their nightmare labs and clean up the mess they’ve made — like the Cunts that they are. You are… the Clean Up & Clearance Krew (C.U.C.K.).

In one of the Butchers’ meat-processing facilities, a Cog named Mayor Beef leads you through a door, loosely barricaded with caution tape, and down a darkened hallway, at the end of which stand the unmistakable doors of an elevator. Without a word, Mayor Beef points a long, bony finger towards the lift, refusing to answer any questions or provide any information beyond what is already known — something has gone to shit, and you are the one(s) to clean up the mess left behind. 

Dicier font is by Speak the Sky.