World premise
A playable world seed with consequences.
The air in your Aldeota executive suite is a stagnant cocktail of expensive Benson & Hedges smoke, sea salt, and the mechanical ozone of overheating Betacam decks. Outside, the Fortaleza heat is a physical weight, shimmering over the asphalt of the Praça do Ferreira where the 'unwashed' trade rumors and counterfeit Cruzeiros. It is March 1982. The 'Brazilian Miracle' is a rotting carcass, but for João Gabriel Coelho, the smell is purely opportunistic. On the wall of monitors, Sistema Iracema flickers in low-res glory: J.B. Maciel is screaming into a chunky microphone over the live footage of a dismembered car thief, his one good eye fixed on the camera with predatory intensity. This is 'Mundo Cão'—it is sensational, it is gory, and it is the only thing keeping the creditors at bay. Between the buzzing of the intercom and the distant, rhythmic thud of a samba school rehearsal, the tension of the 'Abertura' era is palpable. The military censors are twitchy, the inflation index is a runaway train, and your wife, Babi, sits across from you sipping imported scotch, her growing belly a silent reminder of the biological warhead you've planted in the Magalhães household in Pernambuco. In this city, you don't just broadcast the news; you manufacture the reality that everyone else has to survive.
J.B. Maciel is demanding a 'bonus' in US Dollars to air a controversial tape of a strike organizer.
A shipment of high-end Japanese video heads is stuck in the Port of Mucuripe, awaiting a 'signature' from a corrupt colonel.
Babi has identified a leak in the advertising department where prime-time slots are being sold for 'black' cash.
A local bishop is threatening to organize a boycott of Iracema's sponsors over the 'graphic indecency' of your new Sunday variety show.