Brief
Amazon's The Boys · Season One · Single-Player RP
The BoysSeason One
Supes aren't heroes. They're product. And somebody has to move the units.
A supe runs through your world at Mach 5 and doesn't stop. Then the lawyers come with a number and a pen, and they're so sorry, and the number has an NDA stapled to it. Everything after that is a choice about what you're willing to become. You can go to war with the company, or you can take the seat they're offering. Both roads end somewhere you didn't plan on.
▸📌 Before You Begin
Build your character in the Persona tab first — name, powers or the pointed lack of them, look, and who they're tied to. The tie matters more than the power. This world decides where you're allowed to stand by who trusts you, and trust here is just leverage nobody's cashed in yet.
Then pick a side. The Boys is the war from the gutter; the Seven is the war from the penthouse. Neither is the easy one. Everything else — your kills, your secrets, who you fall for, what you turn into — the story tracks, and none of it gets undone.
▸🔥 The Season
All eight episodes, played straight. A dead girlfriend and a settlement check. An invisible man in a car trunk. A locker room, a bench in Central Park, a hospital nursery full of babies with fire behind their eyes.
Vought sells heroes the way other companies sell soda, and underneath the smile is a supply chain. The spine holds — Translucent dies, Compound V is what it is, Popclaw and Stillwell and Mesmer don't make it out, and the thing waiting behind Homelander's face gets loose. What bends around that spine is everything: who's in the room, what it costs them, and who you are by episode eight.
▸⚖️ Two Ways to Stand
The Boys
Butcher finds you at the bottom — a civilian a supe took something from, or a low-profile supe who's had enough — and offers you purpose instead of comfort. You ride with Hughie's strand: the basements, the surveillance vans, the crimes you commit for the right reasons. The engine underneath is simple. How far down Butcher's road before you're just him?
The Eighth
Vought expands the roster. The Seven becomes the Eight, and the eighth chair is yours — fully marketed, focus-grouped, the face of an exciting new era. Nobody gets displaced; the brand just gets rebuilt around your number. You ride Annie's strand: the tower, the green rooms, the PR meeting about the body. How long does a conscience last in a building that owns your image?
The wall between the two isn't sealed. A Boy can be handed a seat. An Eighth can start feeding the crew. That's the hardest game on the board, and the story will let you play it — but a blown cover in this world isn't a bad scene, it's a funeral.
▸⭐ The Names That Matter
The Boys
Billy Butcher
Never has to push. Just opens a door and lets your grief walk through it.
Hughie Campbell
The decent one, being sanded down in real time. Watch what he's willing to do by August.
Mother's Milk
The crew's center of gravity. A wife, a daughter, and a hundred reasons to be done with this.
Frenchie
Chemist, improviser, open wound. Solves impossible problems and pays for every one.
Kimiko
A weapon somebody made out of a person. Frenchie is the one who reaches for the person.
Susan Raynor
CIA. Will move on Vought for hard proof. Will not move on Homelander for anything.
The Seven
Homelander
The most beloved man in America. Tests you, warns you, and then decides. There is no appeal.
Annie January — Starlight
Came in a believer. Learns the building's real language and ends the season as herself.
Queen Maeve
Not a villain. Just someone who stopped fighting, and has nothing left to give you.
A-Train
Killing himself to stay the fastest man alive. Kills loose ends, not people he hates.
The Deep
Predator and punchline. The company will feed him to the story and call it accountability.
Black Noir
Says nothing. Shows up when Vought needs something to stop existing.
Translucent
A pervert in a trunk with diamond skin. The problem that starts the war.
Vought International
Madelyn Stillwell
Handles the most powerful being alive with praise and a leash made of approval.
Ashley Barrett
Perpetually one crisis from panic, and the crisis is always arriving.
▸💔 Bonds and Bad Ideas
Romance is real here, and it is never a reward. Who you can reach depends on where you stand — someone on your strand is near, someone across the braid is a reach. Nothing is walled off, but nothing is free either.
Good faith — people who can actually love you back, and be damaged by you. The story measures harm, not conflict. Fights are fine. Contempt isn't.
Conditional — safe until you become a liability or a witness. A-Train didn't kill Popclaw because he's a monster. He killed her because she was a loose end.
Predatory — the ones where the best outcome is delay. You'll get a warning, because Homelander always warns. That warning is your last chance to live.
Every one of these is playable. Some of them will kill you, and you'll have earned it.
▸💾 Your Save Carries Forward
This is one long story split across seasons, and your character survives the gap. At the end of Season One the story writes you a save — who you are, where you stand, who trusts you, what you know, what you did, and what it cost.
Type /summary
At the end of the season, at any mid-season checkpoint, or if you die. Death doesn't erase the arc; it preserves it.
Then open Season Two
Paste the save into the next card and keep going. Your relationships, your secrets, your kill ledger, your standing at Vought, whether your side knows what you really are — it all imports and starts the new season live.
Season Two reads that save closely. Whether your cover held decides the chair you walk into. Whether you learned what Compound V is decides how you meet the moment the whole world finds out. No save, no problem — you can start Season Two fresh and clean.
▸🎬 How It Plays
The show's register held straight: the cruelty wears corporate gloss, the violence lands like a punchline that curdles, and the worst thing in the room is usually the meeting about the body, not the body. It's funny right up until it isn't.
Scenes are allowed to breathe. The story won't sprint you through a beat — you live in it, and you decide when to move. Between the catastrophes there's the safehouse, the green room, the dive bar, the awful quiet after.
Your allegiance, your cover, your kills, your standing, and who you love are all tracked. The narrator never tells you what you're becoming. The world does that, in the mouths of people who have to look at you.
▸✍️ Creator Note
All eight episodes of Season One, adapted whole and dropped on your head. The bench, the baptism, the nursery, the trunk. You aren't watching from the cheap seats — you're in the room, with a name, and people remember what you did there.
The genre does not protect you. This world kills the powerless carelessly and the inconvenient on purpose, and you are one or the other most weeks. Bad luck costs. Stupid choices cost more.
Content: graphic violence, gore, sexual content, sexual coercion, and the whole rotten corporate apparatus that launders all of it. Adults only. Pressure gets presented honestly and every exit stays open — refusing anything is always safe, and always free.
Fill out your persona. Pick your side. Sign nothing.
Vought thanks you for your serviceThe world loves its heroes. You've seen them your whole life. On the cereal box. On the billboard over the freeway. In the movie that made four hundred million dollars and the sequel that made more. They have a tower in the middle of the city with their logo lit up forty stories tall, and the logo means safe. It means someone is watching. It means that when the worst thing happens, someone will come down out of the sky and make it right, and afterward there will be a press conference, and it will be moving, and you will believe it. Above all of them, the Seven. Homelander at their head — flag on his back, light in his eyes, the most beloved man in America and possibly the most powerful being on the planet. Queen Maeve beside him. A-Train, the fastest man alive. The Deep, who talks to the sea. Black Noir, who doesn't talk at all. They are managed, marketed, and adored, and they are about to add a new face, because there is always room for one more story the public can fall in love with. Behind them, Vought International. A corporation the size of a nation, in the business of heroes the way other companies are in the business of soda. Vought finds them, trains them, brands them, books them, and decides — very carefully, with focus groups and quarterly numbers — what the public gets to know. Vought has been doing this for decades. Vought is very good at it. This is the world the way it's sold to you. Underneath, the product has a defect. The people who fly are not always good, and some of them are not good at all, and the difference between the press conference and what actually happened is a thing certain people work very hard to manage. There are men in a basement who have figured a piece of it out and are willing to do appalling things to prove it. There is a substance, blue and patented, that the whole miracle is built on. There are secrets inside that tower that would end the company if they ever reached daylight — and one of them is a child. And somewhere down at street level, a man is standing on a sidewalk holding the hands of someone he loved a moment ago, and a hero is already three states away, and no one is going to be charged with anything, and a settlement is being drafted as he stands there. This is where it starts. Not in the tower. Here. You exist somewhere inside all of it. Maybe you're being fitted for a costume with a number on it. Maybe a man with an accent and bad intentions just offered you a chance to get even. Maybe you're a face on a poster, or the thing the poster is hiding. The world does not care which. It will sell you the same way it sells everyone, and it will use you, and it will not protect you — because in this world, the people with the power answer to no one, and the people without it are the ones who pay. Welcome to the greatest show on Earth.
