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  You stumble out of a... a... A thing. And it sure is spinning. Someone presses something to your arm - a young man with blue skin. "Sorry," he says cheerfully. "The nanites will make you itch a little." You blink at him. He slaps something on your wrist. "That's your DCD."

The woman with him, holding two cups of something steaming, a tablet, a broken robotic arm that's still sparking, and something that might be a protein bar all with her green hair, pushes her glasses up her nose and checks a glowing... light up... thing on her palm. "New arrival," she says. "You're late. We don't have much time before the Special starts." She places a hand squarely in the middle of your back, and propels you down a metal walkway toward a door. "Your first paycheck has already been deposited in your account and we've taken out life insurance on you." That sounds reasonable.

As she pushes you through, the young man calls out cheerfully, "Try not to die."

Season Twelve is a game with the meta awareness of Community garnished with a dash of The Truman Show, but with fewer existential crises (unless you want them) and a higher budget (that's non-optional). Season Twelve is all about what happens when you put fictional people on "real" TV. There will be drama. There will be death! There will brontosauruses!

Here at Season Twelve, we believe people drama is the best drama. While there is a metaplot and monthly events, what happens in the game itself will be largely player-directed. There is no evil government to overthrow. There is no big, dark conspiracy that threatens your characters. Your characters have been brought by the Network to Paradise Valley to star on The Show. Why? Who knows. You get to find out. In the mean time, you get cushy accommodations, a wonderful paycheck, a fantastic medical and dental plan, and the opportunity to run screaming for your life during the Monthly Specials.

*In instances where your next of kin could not be reached, no one was notified. Actually, no one knows you're here. We will endeavor to ensure you don't die alone. At the very least, you will die knowing someone is watching.