Idiosyncratic tells the dark story of Calixte Stanhope, a rather callous but…ordinary enough young man who awoke in a truly bizarre dystopian world after being pushed in front of an ongoing train while escorting his significant other home, a faceless and nameless woman he remembers only by her mere existence in this vivid memory, and throughout his journey he's haunted by a deep longing for her that's seems to drive his quixotic incentive to do whatever he must to survive

Rather than being welcomed by either the pearly gates of heaven or the fires of hell, Calixte found himself standing in the midst of the very strange and deceptive town of Baltimore, where everything from the largest bank to the tiniest coin is made entirely of cardboard and plastic, like the set for a play—mimicking the real thing while not actually being it. One can say, a rip off of everything in our world.

The citizens of the town too; although they're quick to greet you with a warm smile and talk with such an enticing charm that is sure to ensnare anybody desperate for answers to their odd predicament, they are not even close to being as ordinary as first impressions suggest--first impressions of which Calixte, for whatever reason, could see straight through. And soon enough, those illusions of a society you could trust fades into ash and the true extent of the young man's situation is ever so cruelly unveiled to him, and this reality would threaten twist and pervert the perceptions of goodness and evil he long since held dear to his heart, or at least he thought he did--he can't quite recall where his knowledge of civility, law, and order came from as vivid as they are to him, they seem feel almost like the figments of a hazy dream or fanciful concepts from a child's tale...

Regardless, what's become absolutely and abundantly clear to Calixte is that this world seems to glorify the things we don't, endorse the activity we shouldn't, and corrupt the ideas of right and wrong we have used to scaffold our civilizations from the ground up. Violence and madness is the way, entropy and discord is the center of worship, and every sad unfortunate soul who's found themselves in this world must abide by the matrix of the daily grind as they do here. The citizens of this delightful world are diehard fanatics for this way of living, lusting for violence so much to the point where its broadcasted on television, discussed fanatically in literature, and any horrid death calls for a grand celebration. The more irredeemable and atrocious something is, the more the residents of Baltimore revere it like sacred scripture, and the man who proudly encourages and orchestrates this madness is none other than the eccentric mayor, referred to as just “Whitman Sedgwick"--his pen name, as he only seems to make himself known through various propaganda, manifestos, and biographies littered about the town.

The unlucky few who wound up in Baltimore under bizarre circumstances similar to Calixte’s, properly labeled as “actors”, have to routinely partake in abhorrent acts for the public’s sick entertainment otherwise more than just their dignity, humanity, and pride will be torn from them. And eventually, once you're fully proven yourself to be of no use to Whitman's design, you are properly "dealt with"

It’s a horrifying ordeal to most, but a paradise to some of humanity’s greatest degenerates, and that small minority is powerful, hungry, and determined to survive by any means necessary--no matter how low. Thus leading Calixte, an obstinate man with an ambition, to meet people he never would’ve otherwise, creating a fragile alliance that will either make or break this band of deplorable lowlives, all depraved in their own ways but alike in their desire for freedom and above all, answers.

As he begrudgingly adjusts his mind to this new world, he quickly realizes his dangerous willingness to do anything and everything he must in order to escape the clutches of the Hegemony and Craze and to reunite with the one woman so dear to him. However, Calixte never would’ve thought that the madness of this world stretch far, far beyond just the glamorization and capitalization of evil. It seems, there's more than one person pulling the strings--its just a question of, who exactly is at the end of the cross brace?