Introduction
Utopia, the final destination for all sky-faring pirates. A flying city of gold said to have been lost to the world below in The Great Storm. Of course, where there is legend, there is a handful of naïve believers who are willing to throw their lives away following the scent of a dream. The Fleet Foot Pirates are a group of diverse individuals brought together a one common desire: finding Utopia. Some motives may be different than others, and personalities on the crew may clash, but to find this city of legend, the crew must put those differences aside and work together to achieve success.
The goal of this roleplay is to ultimately find Utopia by a series of side quests and missions. How long it ends up being is totally up to the players, based on consistency and creativity. If you feel like prolonging the story, make your character a traitor. If you feel like shortening it if it starts to die (we hope we can take the precautions that it won’t ) have your character discover a major plot piece. From the players we demand a few things:
-That you be consistent and aren’t going to flake out. Since this is a limited number of players, you’ll have to make a case for yourself that you will not stop replying.
-That you use more than five lines per post. It’s not a ton, but that is the minimum. People get discouraged when they pour their hearts into a post and someone replies with a one liner.
- Try to post a minimum of once every three days, five days of inactivity will constitute abandonment and we will pick your character up and have someone else play it.
-Other than that, have fun :P
[Setting]
The sea is a vast frontier, but even more endless is the wide open sky. The setting of this role play is the entire world of Nasvexia (whatever I suck at naming things :P For now, this is what it’s called) a series of floating islands only accessible by means of airship travel. Among these islands is a series of districts and prefectures including:
Juriya: The research capital of the world. Though this is a steampunk roleplay it is characterized by the most advanced buildings and developed communities. Much of it harnesses the still foreign magic energy.
Vedan: The government capital. Filled with military infrastructures and a huge port for giant warships to deploy and restock. Landing here is forbidden by anyone not authorized by the government.
Chromia: A district home to some of the world’s most skilled inventors, it is the most quintessentially steampunk looking area, characterized by rusty shack like buildings. It is also home to the world’s largest library.
Noxia: A dystopic hellish city where all of the world’s ruffians gather to exchange stories and barter illegal goods. A sky-faring pirates own personal home. Also where the first chapter in our story takes place
Redvale: The uninhabited jungle planet, harbors many of the lost civilizations ruins, supposedly a band of primitives still populate this land.. supposedly.
This list will be updated as the story progresses
Some things you should know:
For the most part magic is a still developing art in the world of Nasvexia. Your character may be able to harness magic, but it will be more like a mage in Final Fantasy, that will be their primary ability, they will stick to somewhat of a specific element, and they must carry a spell book.
(This will also be updated as I think of more things)
Positions to Fill:
Captain: (Played by PeachesNCreme)
First Mate: (Played by SneakyRio)
Cook: (Played by GuiyverT)
Engineer: (Played by Angellebell)
Navigator: (Played by glmstar)
Gunman:(Played By Makkenji)
Medic: (Reserved)
There are also three other spots available to fill, for the most part they will probably be lackeys, but it is totally open to interpretation.
Cabin Boys, Alternative Firepower, etc.
Spot One: (Played by Deuce)
Spot Two: (Played by PeachesNCreme)
Spot Three: (Played by Deallo)
Character Skeleton
Name:
Nicknames: (If your character has any)
Race: (Available races are cyborg [as in you have at least one steampowered part], human, and elf [elves are more proficient in magic, if you have magic by default you must be an elf]/
Age:
Position You Will Fill:
Specialization: (In addition to your job on the ship, you will also be proficient in an area of combat as well as have two skills that can be applied to our adventures, such as first aid, tinkering, etc)
Themesong:
Appearance: [Pictures are preferred but not required)
Personality: (This is where likes/dislikes and quirks will fall if you should so choose)
History:
The goal of this roleplay is to ultimately find Utopia by a series of side quests and missions. How long it ends up being is totally up to the players, based on consistency and creativity. If you feel like prolonging the story, make your character a traitor. If you feel like shortening it if it starts to die (we hope we can take the precautions that it won’t ) have your character discover a major plot piece. From the players we demand a few things:
-That you be consistent and aren’t going to flake out. Since this is a limited number of players, you’ll have to make a case for yourself that you will not stop replying.
-That you use more than five lines per post. It’s not a ton, but that is the minimum. People get discouraged when they pour their hearts into a post and someone replies with a one liner.
- Try to post a minimum of once every three days, five days of inactivity will constitute abandonment and we will pick your character up and have someone else play it.
-Other than that, have fun :P
[Setting]
The sea is a vast frontier, but even more endless is the wide open sky. The setting of this role play is the entire world of Nasvexia (whatever I suck at naming things :P For now, this is what it’s called) a series of floating islands only accessible by means of airship travel. Among these islands is a series of districts and prefectures including:
Juriya: The research capital of the world. Though this is a steampunk roleplay it is characterized by the most advanced buildings and developed communities. Much of it harnesses the still foreign magic energy.
Vedan: The government capital. Filled with military infrastructures and a huge port for giant warships to deploy and restock. Landing here is forbidden by anyone not authorized by the government.
Chromia: A district home to some of the world’s most skilled inventors, it is the most quintessentially steampunk looking area, characterized by rusty shack like buildings. It is also home to the world’s largest library.
Noxia: A dystopic hellish city where all of the world’s ruffians gather to exchange stories and barter illegal goods. A sky-faring pirates own personal home. Also where the first chapter in our story takes place
Redvale: The uninhabited jungle planet, harbors many of the lost civilizations ruins, supposedly a band of primitives still populate this land.. supposedly.
This list will be updated as the story progresses
[The Satan's Serpent]
Upper deck: The upper deck is most notable for its three huge masts, each equipped with a giant rotating fan at the top and serves as the hub for most of the rest of the ship. There is an observation deck, as well as the basics, a helm, an anchor attached to a manpowered crank, and a gun deck. It also houses the captain’s quarters which also itself serves as a meeting room for the crew to come together and discuss and exchange information.
Go down a hatch in the southern half of the deck, and you’ll be lead into a hallway that branches into two separate wings.
On the right is the Galley: It is a vast empty room where the most valuable items are stored. Including extra food supplies, water, ammunition for both the six cast-iron cannons and
On the left is the dining hall and kitchen: The dining hall has one lengthy table that fits fifteen people. The kitchen is a small confined area with the clutter to accompany it. Dishes piled on either side of a one-person sink and rusty old stoves which reek of oil. The final and finishing piece of the dining area is the bar which suits only six
Below this wing is the sleeping quarters, which is divided into eight separate rooms, four on either side of a small hallway. The opposite end of this hallway is the brig, which hasn’t seen much use in recent years and on the opposite side, the infirmary where any injures sustained on this journey will be treated.
The Machine: The lowest level of the Satan’s serpent is the known as the “Machine”. It is where all the inner-workings of gears, pipes and junctions work to keep the boat aloft. The engineer will spend most of their time down here. There is also a small docking area where three sky-cruisers are kept in case of emergency.
Upper deck: The upper deck is most notable for its three huge masts, each equipped with a giant rotating fan at the top and serves as the hub for most of the rest of the ship. There is an observation deck, as well as the basics, a helm, an anchor attached to a manpowered crank, and a gun deck. It also houses the captain’s quarters which also itself serves as a meeting room for the crew to come together and discuss and exchange information.
Go down a hatch in the southern half of the deck, and you’ll be lead into a hallway that branches into two separate wings.
On the right is the Galley: It is a vast empty room where the most valuable items are stored. Including extra food supplies, water, ammunition for both the six cast-iron cannons and
On the left is the dining hall and kitchen: The dining hall has one lengthy table that fits fifteen people. The kitchen is a small confined area with the clutter to accompany it. Dishes piled on either side of a one-person sink and rusty old stoves which reek of oil. The final and finishing piece of the dining area is the bar which suits only six
Below this wing is the sleeping quarters, which is divided into eight separate rooms, four on either side of a small hallway. The opposite end of this hallway is the brig, which hasn’t seen much use in recent years and on the opposite side, the infirmary where any injures sustained on this journey will be treated.
The Machine: The lowest level of the Satan’s serpent is the known as the “Machine”. It is where all the inner-workings of gears, pipes and junctions work to keep the boat aloft. The engineer will spend most of their time down here. There is also a small docking area where three sky-cruisers are kept in case of emergency.
Some things you should know:
For the most part magic is a still developing art in the world of Nasvexia. Your character may be able to harness magic, but it will be more like a mage in Final Fantasy, that will be their primary ability, they will stick to somewhat of a specific element, and they must carry a spell book.
(This will also be updated as I think of more things)
Positions to Fill:
Captain: (Played by PeachesNCreme)
First Mate: (Played by SneakyRio)
Cook: (Played by GuiyverT)
Engineer: (Played by Angellebell)
Navigator: (Played by glmstar)
Gunman:(Played By Makkenji)
Medic: (Reserved)
There are also three other spots available to fill, for the most part they will probably be lackeys, but it is totally open to interpretation.
Cabin Boys, Alternative Firepower, etc.
Spot One: (Played by Deuce)
Spot Two: (Played by PeachesNCreme)
Spot Three: (Played by Deallo)
Character Skeleton
Name:
Nicknames: (If your character has any)
Race: (Available races are cyborg [as in you have at least one steampowered part], human, and elf [elves are more proficient in magic, if you have magic by default you must be an elf]/
Age:
Position You Will Fill:
Specialization: (In addition to your job on the ship, you will also be proficient in an area of combat as well as have two skills that can be applied to our adventures, such as first aid, tinkering, etc)
Themesong:
Appearance: [Pictures are preferred but not required)
Personality: (This is where likes/dislikes and quirks will fall if you should so choose)
History:
- 39 posts here • Page 1 of 2 • 1, 2
The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 10 authors
Ah, Satan’s Serpent, the greatest constructed airship ever to bless the skies. A home to the broken souls and delinquents, shunned by society, who’s only saving grace is to cling to the fading glimmer of their dreams. Currently, the ship that will lead the crew to greatness is docked at the port of Noxia, where its assortment of unique crew members are individually preparing to set sail on an adventure into the stretches of uncharted sky, with the hopes of finding their Utopia. But one does not simply find a century lost city without a lead, and if it’s a rumor you seek, there is no better place in all of Nasvexia to find one than Noxia.
This shattered hub town hosts some of the skies most travelled and hardened sky-dogs. It isn’t uncommon to see, through a veil of smog, drunkards brawling on the broken cobblestone streets, or peddlers trying to smuggle knockoff trinkets, supposedly from the advanced city of Juriya. It can be a haven for those strong enough to bear the crudeness, or a hell for those whose hearts are too weak to handle the immoral city.
For a worn captain like Archer Bishop sights like these are but an everyday occurrence, not even worth a second glance.
Archer always kept his face hidden beneath his cloak whenever he visited Noxia. Maybe it was the fear of catching eye contact with someone larger than him, unlike many of his peers; he couldn’t stand the idea of confrontation. Maybe it was because he didn’t like sticking out like a dwarf among midgets. But most likely, Archer didn’t want to be recognized. Whatever the reason, it made him look like a suspicious character when he casually waltzed into the Gypsy’s Pride Inn, and took a seat in a dark corner booth.
The Gypsy’s Pride was known as a safe haven for pirates to exchange ideas and stories without judgement. To drink until the brink of total inebriation and be safely escorted into the one of the quaint rooms above the pub. If Archer had hoped to find any information about Utopia, it would be here, catching ear of a madman’s rant. Madmen, Archer had come to find, generally had more valuable knowledge than any person in their right wits. He wasn’t sure madmen were driven mad by their knowledge, or if they were merely sane men who had the title slapped onto them by skeptics. Regardless, their ramblings had been known to spark some of his greatest adventures.
It wasn’t long before someone had noticed Archer. In fact, his presence demanded the attention of the room when he had walked in, but the tavern wench was the first to actually acknowledge him. Setting a glass in front of him with a wink, she said, “Welcome traveler, may I get you something to drink or eat?
Archer waved the glass away, “No, thank you madam, it’s not what I am here for.”
“No,” she looked puzzled, “Then what about a room to stay?”
“Actually, I was hoping you could help me with another matter.”
The once sparkling smile on the waitresses face twisted into an offended glance, “Sir -”
Archer recognized the tenor in her voice. It was one that every woman from every stretch of life had in common. The nagging tone. Before she could gather too much momentum Archer interjected, “Do you have any information about the city of Utopia.”
The once vivid bustling of the table closest to him came to an abrupt stop. A large man leaned over the back of his seat giving Archer a baffled glance. He studied Archers face with skepticism, as though he couldn’t figure out if it were a joke at the waitress’s expense, or if the man he suspected to be a moron was actually being serious. When he found out it was the latter, he burst into a mocking laugher, “Utopia, you can’t be serious. That place is a myth. Even if it were true it’s supposed to have fallen into the Great Abyss, you’d never find it”
In perfect harmony and without fail the rest of the room fell first silent, then burst into a fit laughter. In a way, this response was suspected. While Archer sympathized with madmen for many reasons, this was the most pertinent. He could relate. In recent years, Archer had found himself becoming the bud of the joke for men too rational to pursue the legends, imprisoned by their own self-doubts. Some would even call him mad, and he couldn’t say he could disagree. Clearly, Archer wasn’t the first to inquire about the city of gold, but he intended to be the last. Still, in a way, he had hoped the rest of the crew was having better luck.
Archer didn’t anticipate that getting information from these fools would be easy.
Aria
“Satan’s Serpent set’s sail at dusk, I expect everything to be in order when I return.”
Archer’s words rang through the young hopeful, Aria’s, ears like an orchestra’s symphony. Beautifully, and clearly. Everything was becoming so real, so tangible. It was almost as though she could see the tips of Utopia’s towers (or she had assumed there would be towers, Archer was vague about the details) on the horizon. One thing she was sure of, it would be awe-inspiring.
Still, Aria wished she could have joined the crew. She’d never seen Noxia, and despite her objections, Archer refused to let her off the ship. Something about being too young or something. She really didn’t remember; Aria was blinded by her ambition.
Aria found herself humming a tune as she swayed the mop back and forth across the plated deck of the Satan’s Serpent. The movement was so fluid, so consistent, it was almost as if she was dancing with the mop. Normally, any of Aria’s movements were sluggish. If Archer had to rate her performance, she was a less than exceptional cabin boy – err – girl, but was worth having around, if only for her ability to light up the room with her hopeless optimism.
In fact, Aria was known to cause more harm than good. She was clutzy and uncoordinated, and usually ended up making things difficult for their engineer and her assistant. Like clockwork, and unbeknownst to her, she already had.
Now, Aria, wasn’t particularly dumb, so to speak. But something about her wasn’t quite there . She had a tendency to drift off into blissful ignorance at the most inconvenient times. It wasn’t until she was blasted in the face by the steam propelling from the massive mast that she noticed it. She had punctured a hole in something, somehow.
Aria panicked, fumbling backwards and tripping over her own bucket, “Aethyra.” She shrieked, much like a mating-call for a banshee.
Setting
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Jay hadn't left the captains quarters since he handed her an old map she was supposed to fix up and make legible.
"Satan's Serpent sails at dusk," He had told her. "I need this map legible by then,
Of course, Jay had done more impossible things, like escaping her father and finding this blasted ship, but this....this was just pure insanity. The only legible thing was the scrawling of the maps last owner, a few arrows, and some land masses. How was she even going to attempt to fix this?
Jays pockets were heavy with coin, and what she really wanted to do was gamble, but NO she was stuck on the bloody ship trying to fix a map that would take them no where because Utopia doesn't exist!
Sighing in irritation, Jay set to work, coping the lines exactly as she saw them, filling in new areas of the lands she recognized, and re-drawing the arrows, all of which seemed to point to the north east.
Jay looked out the cabin window, the sun still high in the sky. Maybe if she finished this fast enough, Jay would be able to go gamble for a bit after all.
"Satan's Serpent sails at dusk," He had told her. "I need this map legible by then,
Of course, Jay had done more impossible things, like escaping her father and finding this blasted ship, but this....this was just pure insanity. The only legible thing was the scrawling of the maps last owner, a few arrows, and some land masses. How was she even going to attempt to fix this?
Jays pockets were heavy with coin, and what she really wanted to do was gamble, but NO she was stuck on the bloody ship trying to fix a map that would take them no where because Utopia doesn't exist!
Sighing in irritation, Jay set to work, coping the lines exactly as she saw them, filling in new areas of the lands she recognized, and re-drawing the arrows, all of which seemed to point to the north east.
Jay looked out the cabin window, the sun still high in the sky. Maybe if she finished this fast enough, Jay would be able to go gamble for a bit after all.
Setting
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Ryder had always been one to do things at his own pace. One of many philosophies he learned from cooking, Ryder believed that good things came in time and with an attentive eye to detail. This situation would be no different. Ryder sauntered the broken cobblestone streets, breathing in the atmosphere. There was a lot to admire about Noxia. It was something about the stench of industry in the air, the sound of gears grinding on rusty hinges, and the depressing look of starving cats on open windowsills. He hadn’t seen a Juriyan structure going on eight years now, but he just couldn’t become desensitized to the marvel of the struggling lower class. But more than anything he admired the women of Noxia. Oh god, the women! In their scantily clad dresses beckoning him from the entrances of alleyways, so voluptuous and inviting. He couldn’t count the times Archer had warned him about the women of Noxia.
“Sure, you might think that you want them, but I can guarantee you’ll feel differently when you wake up without a kidney.”
And maybe that was true, but perhaps a lost kidney would be a fair trade. After all, he did have two and their waving hair looked so long, so lush, so pullable. It’s was a tempting thought, but he had business to attend to. Besides, the crew of Satan’s Serpent was far more than just easy to look at, and would get his eyeful of gorgeous females in good time.
No, he had come to Noxia for a purpose. To obtain the illegal spice, urragaon. Dejectedly Ryder waltzed past each of the women, heading for the market square. The quicker he could get back to the ship the better at this point. Testosterone is one hell of a hormone. Approaching a shady looking stand that seemed like it may collapse under it’s own weight any moment, Ryder addressed the shop keeper, “I need an ounce of urragon.”
The shop kepper, who was prior digging through a few barrels in the back turned and wiped two oafish hands in his apron, “Do ya now? Don’t ya know Urragon tis illegal?” He was a much larger man than Ryder standing at at least six feet, three inches if Ryder had to guess.
“Yes, and so do you I’m sure. But before you go and try refusing to sell it to me, I’d rethink it. It’s hard to tell whether those marks on your apron are from playing with your own own waste or the spice itself. But because you don’t smell quite as bad as you look, I assume it’s the latter. So cut the shit and get me an ounce.”
“Sure, you might think that you want them, but I can guarantee you’ll feel differently when you wake up without a kidney.”
And maybe that was true, but perhaps a lost kidney would be a fair trade. After all, he did have two and their waving hair looked so long, so lush, so pullable. It’s was a tempting thought, but he had business to attend to. Besides, the crew of Satan’s Serpent was far more than just easy to look at, and would get his eyeful of gorgeous females in good time.
No, he had come to Noxia for a purpose. To obtain the illegal spice, urragaon. Dejectedly Ryder waltzed past each of the women, heading for the market square. The quicker he could get back to the ship the better at this point. Testosterone is one hell of a hormone. Approaching a shady looking stand that seemed like it may collapse under it’s own weight any moment, Ryder addressed the shop keeper, “I need an ounce of urragon.”
The shop kepper, who was prior digging through a few barrels in the back turned and wiped two oafish hands in his apron, “Do ya now? Don’t ya know Urragon tis illegal?” He was a much larger man than Ryder standing at at least six feet, three inches if Ryder had to guess.
“Yes, and so do you I’m sure. But before you go and try refusing to sell it to me, I’d rethink it. It’s hard to tell whether those marks on your apron are from playing with your own own waste or the spice itself. But because you don’t smell quite as bad as you look, I assume it’s the latter. So cut the shit and get me an ounce.”
Aethyra stepped out onto the decks, a flask of alcohol in one hand, her pants in the other.
"You rang, dove?" she smirked at Aria, took a swig, and walked over to her, hood shielding a good bit of her face, though her eyes glowed through the shadow. Her thin gauzey dress rippled behind her as she walked, leaving next to nothing to the imagination, and her easy smile revealed that she'd been drinking already, though she wasn't drunk. Elven livers, she'd joke, human ale hardly affects me!
The grin fell from her face as soon as she saw the punctured steam pipe, and was replaced in an angry scowl. Throwing her pants and the dejected flask to the floor, she raced over and stared at it, whirling on the small girl.
"What have you done, you imbecile! How did you even MANAGE this?! I just repaired it last WEEK!" with a snarl and a roll of her eyes, she ran her fingers around the hole, ignoring the hot steam that burned her fingers. "Fetch me my kit, now, please." She couldn't stay mad at Aria, not for long; she was like a younger sister to everyone on the crew, and bumbling as she was, she had an adorable little smile.
"At least it wasn't Idiot tinkering again," she sighed, and shook her head, leaning against the pipe and stretching her legs out lazily. Noticing the girl still standing on the deck, she snapped and pointed below, "My kit, girl. Now."
"You rang, dove?" she smirked at Aria, took a swig, and walked over to her, hood shielding a good bit of her face, though her eyes glowed through the shadow. Her thin gauzey dress rippled behind her as she walked, leaving next to nothing to the imagination, and her easy smile revealed that she'd been drinking already, though she wasn't drunk. Elven livers, she'd joke, human ale hardly affects me!
The grin fell from her face as soon as she saw the punctured steam pipe, and was replaced in an angry scowl. Throwing her pants and the dejected flask to the floor, she raced over and stared at it, whirling on the small girl.
"What have you done, you imbecile! How did you even MANAGE this?! I just repaired it last WEEK!" with a snarl and a roll of her eyes, she ran her fingers around the hole, ignoring the hot steam that burned her fingers. "Fetch me my kit, now, please." She couldn't stay mad at Aria, not for long; she was like a younger sister to everyone on the crew, and bumbling as she was, she had an adorable little smile.
"At least it wasn't Idiot tinkering again," she sighed, and shook her head, leaning against the pipe and stretching her legs out lazily. Noticing the girl still standing on the deck, she snapped and pointed below, "My kit, girl. Now."
Jericho "Ironheart" Malone
"Where could she be?" Jericho asked to seemingly no one as slowly walked about a cramped apartment. He had a large smile on his face with a faked expression of contemplation. An old man with a balding head, crazy white hair and a white beard with spectacles sat in a wooden chair smoking a pipe. He had an amused grin on his face. "Haven't the foggiest. Like a cat she is." Luther said, adding to the charade. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted two little shoes sticking out from behind a curtain. He nonchalantly made his way towards the curtain, then turned around facing his back to it. "I might just have to give up at this rate. She's just too good." he said, sounding defeated. He then spun around and whipped the curtain open. "Aha!" he said, expecting to see a little girl. Instead, he found nothing. Nothing a pair of empty shoes. "What the..." he then heard a small laugh behind him, followed by the patter of little feet. He spun around just fast enough to see some brown hair disappear around a corner. "Hey!" he shouted and took off in the same direction.
He rounded a few corners, just barely catching a glimpse of his prey. As he rounded a final corner, he saw a little brown haired girl in a white shirt and pink overalls beaming victoriously at him sitting upon her grandfathers lap. Jericho just stood there dumbfounded. "I win!" she yelled out, in almost a mocking way. He slowly approached her. "Since when have you been able to beat me at hide and seek?" he asked in disbelief. Liezel just smiled at him. "Since I got smarter than you." she said with a laugh. Jericho just shook his head and sat down next to the Doctor. She jumped off of his lap and into Jericho's. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. Jericho turned to her, than assaulted her with little rapid kisses all over her face. "HAHAHAHAHA! Stop it!" she creamed. He then picked her and spun her a few times in the air before bringing her back down into his lap. Her laugh could be heard throughout the house and it could spark a light in even the darkest mans soul. She then curled up and rested her head on his chest. He just smiled and stroked her hair. It was silent for a few minutes, then she spoke. :Do you really think you'll find my daddy." she asked innocently. Doc looked at him with worried glance. He frowned at the Doc, but then adopted a smile for her. "Liezel......of that, I have no doubt." He then kissed the top of her head.
After staying like that a little while longer, he looked up at the clock, and with a heavy sigh, realized he had to go. Liezel instinctively knew what that sigh meant. She looked up at him with a sad look, and then slowly lowered her head. "Hey, don't give me that look. You know I want to stay longer, but I have to go. We're getting close, I can feel it. I'm gonna find your dad, and haul his butt back here.....OK?" She perked her head and gave him a sad, yet understanding look. "OK." she said sounding depressed. She got off his lap and he stood up and walked over to the door. He walked with the doctor. "Do you truly believe it even exists, Jericho? Do you really believe Hans is even alive? he asked him quietly. He looked over to him. "I don't know Doc. To either one. But if I follow the trail to Utopia, I have to find some evidence of Hans. Either way, I swear to not rest until I bring closure to you both. It's the least I could do for you." Luther gave a weak old smile. He then embraced Jericho like a son. "Thank you, my boy." He then released the hug as Liezel walked up to him. Jericho bent down on his knees and she walked into his hug. "I'll miss you." was all she said. He embraced her a little tighter. "Not as much as I'll miss you." He kissed her on the forehead again, then was out the door.
He stepped with a lively pace up the tall hill of weathered cobblestones, past all manner of scum and villainy. He had pulled his goggles down and placed the MAW(his breathing apparatus) over his mouth He was already 10 minutes late meeting Archer at the Gypsy's Pride, he knew he should have left earlier. He knew it, but he would never have done it. It was getting harder and harder walking away from that little girl. But, the crew could never know about her. He didn't think they were bad people, he just didn't want to risk it. Besides, what would they say if they found out their big bad first mate played hide and seek. He knew a few of the smarter ones were suspicious due to the amount of mail he receives and sends out, but he would cross that bridge when he came to it.
He entered the Inn and immediately noticed a hooded figure at the bar. For a man who didn't wanted to be noticed, he sure did stick out. As he walked thorugh the inn, he heard some people commenting on how the hooded guy was crazy for trying to find Utopia. It looked like Archer was being as subtle with his questioning as usual. Some of the patrons recognized him and simply raised their glasses and nodded. He nodded back. A few mercenaries he did some work with a few years back. He then reached the bar and leaned against it right next to Archer. He then spoke in a low voice through the speaker of the MAW. "Forgive me for my tardiness. Captain. It took longer than expected to retrieve the information. Anyways, I got that crazy old Elf to translate the locket for me. It is in fact a clue to..." Jericho then looked about, not wanting to broadcast the information. "You know where. Unfortunately.......it's useless without a lead up clue. A clue that comes before this. We have a piece.....unfortunately it's not a starting one." He fiddled with the locket a bit, mind starting to wander. He then snapped out of it. "Anyway, what about your end then, Cap?"
Lucas tinkered with the sphere on his mothers table, carefully shifting his blade along its intricate curves. The sphere was small, no larger than an apple when compared. Its outer shell was made entirely of a shiny, metal alloy. Lucas tried all he could to find out what kind, but to no avail. He concluded that it was likely a combination of several precious metals, though which ones was near impossible to know. He couldn't take it to a lab for ask someone on the ship for assistance as he wanted to be the one to figure it out."When are you going to ever leave that thing alone?" said his mother, drinking him a glass of water and sitting down across from him. He smiled and tossed the object back into his satchel, "Just as soon as I figure out what it does. Dad left it to me for a reason. I intend to find out what that reason was." His mother sighed and leaned back in her chair. "You look just like him... and act just like him to boot!" She laughed and stood back up, stretching her arms out and yawning heavily. "Are you able to stay for dinner?" Lucas shook his head and stood up, hugging his mother tightly and then making his way to the door. "I'll be back again in a few months, maybe even weeks. Once Cap finds his Utopia, I can move you out of these slums." His mother smiled and nodded, which was basically her way of saying, 'Whatever you say, Lucas.' Grabbing one last quick drink from his cup, he jetted out the door, the sight of his once hometown greeting him again. Local people greeted him much the same way you would expect them to, giving a polite nod or a tip of the hat to the former child they all saw grow up, but were still happy to see leave.
Lucas made his way down the narrow streets of the slums, running his hands along the walls and breathing in the stale, dirty air. "Alright, enough lolly-gagging, time to see what I can dig up." Lucas began running, finding a nearby ledge to grab onto and pull himself up the building. He knew every inch of this place and, like instinct, was able to move seamlessly from one ledge to the other, until he reached the top of the building. Lucas sat down on the top ledge, admiring the view of the city of criminals and impoverished. He began humming a gentle tune to himself as he gazed across the horizon. He closed his eyes and immediately began drawing schematics and equations for his inventions under his eyelids.
"You just going to stay up there all day?!" Lucas opened his eyes and looked down to see an old familiar face. He quickly made his way down the building and greeted the man with a handshake. The man was quite a few years older than Lucas, his blonde hair starting to show grey and his blue eyes starting to lose their tint. "Davros, its been too long... you look like shit." They both laughed, Davros flipping Lucas off as they made their way down the street. "So, how's the kids?" asked Lucas with a curious tone. "Well, my wife hates me and my daughter spends all of her time out with her boyfriend. So, my life is pretty good right now actually. You know the business is..." Davros drifted as they made their way down a nearby alley, quiet and secluded. "I looked into it. At first I couldn't find anything, but if you dig deep enough, someone is going to start paying attention. I had to stop my search because I think someone was on to me. For the past week I've had a tail." Lucas dragged Davros further into the alley, his expression said it all. "Relax. I did some following of my own and its just some local thugs hired to keep an eye on me. You shouldn't be surprised that others are interested in this Utopia, right? Anyway, I haven't seen the tail for two days, so I think they've given up, but I can;t keep snooping." Lucas nodded, wishing he hadn't gotten an old friend involved in this. "Sorry, but I didn't find anything. But, the fact someone even cares that I'm looking, means there is definitely something to this. Anyway, I've got to go. See you next time." Lucas nodded as Davros left the alleyway. "Another dead end, huh?"
Lucas arrived back at the ship carrying a rather large assortment of gizmos and, putting it politely, junk. He dropped the bag right beside his cot and made his way back to the top of the ship. He could hear Aethrya yelling at Aria, choosing to not get involved for the sake of his own health.
Lucas made his way down the narrow streets of the slums, running his hands along the walls and breathing in the stale, dirty air. "Alright, enough lolly-gagging, time to see what I can dig up." Lucas began running, finding a nearby ledge to grab onto and pull himself up the building. He knew every inch of this place and, like instinct, was able to move seamlessly from one ledge to the other, until he reached the top of the building. Lucas sat down on the top ledge, admiring the view of the city of criminals and impoverished. He began humming a gentle tune to himself as he gazed across the horizon. He closed his eyes and immediately began drawing schematics and equations for his inventions under his eyelids.
"You just going to stay up there all day?!" Lucas opened his eyes and looked down to see an old familiar face. He quickly made his way down the building and greeted the man with a handshake. The man was quite a few years older than Lucas, his blonde hair starting to show grey and his blue eyes starting to lose their tint. "Davros, its been too long... you look like shit." They both laughed, Davros flipping Lucas off as they made their way down the street. "So, how's the kids?" asked Lucas with a curious tone. "Well, my wife hates me and my daughter spends all of her time out with her boyfriend. So, my life is pretty good right now actually. You know the business is..." Davros drifted as they made their way down a nearby alley, quiet and secluded. "I looked into it. At first I couldn't find anything, but if you dig deep enough, someone is going to start paying attention. I had to stop my search because I think someone was on to me. For the past week I've had a tail." Lucas dragged Davros further into the alley, his expression said it all. "Relax. I did some following of my own and its just some local thugs hired to keep an eye on me. You shouldn't be surprised that others are interested in this Utopia, right? Anyway, I haven't seen the tail for two days, so I think they've given up, but I can;t keep snooping." Lucas nodded, wishing he hadn't gotten an old friend involved in this. "Sorry, but I didn't find anything. But, the fact someone even cares that I'm looking, means there is definitely something to this. Anyway, I've got to go. See you next time." Lucas nodded as Davros left the alleyway. "Another dead end, huh?"
Lucas arrived back at the ship carrying a rather large assortment of gizmos and, putting it politely, junk. He dropped the bag right beside his cot and made his way back to the top of the ship. He could hear Aethrya yelling at Aria, choosing to not get involved for the sake of his own health.
"There." With a sigh, she threw her patching materials to the deck, and patted the steam vent, "That'll do nicely. Cap isn't going to be very pleased with you, Aria, but it's nothing life threatening. Now, don't...don't touch it. At all. OK?" And with a smile and mock salute, she swept away, singing softly to herself in her odd foreign language. Living with this many humans--no matter how many years it had been--took a tole on her. She was in her prime, supposed to be drinking and laughing, with a different man every night, until her true Aging ceremony. Instead, she was stuck babysitting small girls and patching engines, trying to keep Spider from blowing it up every other moment. Sure, Aria was an elf, but...Aethyra could only see her as a baby sister, not one to contend with, drink with and laugh with. Though Aria was smart, the two had never meshed all too well, the elder always scolding or redirecting the younger, trying to keep her out of trouble. She loved the small one, of course, but...
"Aethyra, Aethyra, what have you gotten yourself into, girl?" Her voice was loud enough, but not overly projective, and she pushed her hood from her face, revealing a sweaty and tired-but also pleased-grin. Lucas's familiar behind had scuttled by whilst she was busy scolding, and she felt like some like company. Aeya was fond of the boy, he had a good heart, a goofy smile. And sometimes, especially lately, they needed more of those around the ship.
"Oh, Lucas, my little protege," she sing-songed, "where are you? Come, keep your master company!" He was older than her, this was true, but she loved to put him in his place. She was engineer, he, the assistant. Though lately, she felt it was going the other way around. Archer no longer praised her like he once did, and elves were a prideful and easily scorned race, particularly her. Sweat and blood went into her machines, and she expected a bit of respect, though not lavish. Oh, she longed for the first few months she had been part of the crew! When everyone was surprised that a woman, let alone an elf, knew what she was doing with the machines. She did not speak while working, and instead was deathly serious, snapping and yelling if someone should enter without permission.
"Lucas," she whined once more, "tell me you've brought me something fun to play with, I'm growing bored, which is never a good thing!" Falling to silence once more, she leaned over the railing and stared off into the town, wishing everyone would hurry back. Petty was a good way to describe her...and she was growing lonely, with no drinking games or stories or feats of strength being held on the usually rambunctious decks.
"Aethyra, Aethyra, what have you gotten yourself into, girl?" Her voice was loud enough, but not overly projective, and she pushed her hood from her face, revealing a sweaty and tired-but also pleased-grin. Lucas's familiar behind had scuttled by whilst she was busy scolding, and she felt like some like company. Aeya was fond of the boy, he had a good heart, a goofy smile. And sometimes, especially lately, they needed more of those around the ship.
"Oh, Lucas, my little protege," she sing-songed, "where are you? Come, keep your master company!" He was older than her, this was true, but she loved to put him in his place. She was engineer, he, the assistant. Though lately, she felt it was going the other way around. Archer no longer praised her like he once did, and elves were a prideful and easily scorned race, particularly her. Sweat and blood went into her machines, and she expected a bit of respect, though not lavish. Oh, she longed for the first few months she had been part of the crew! When everyone was surprised that a woman, let alone an elf, knew what she was doing with the machines. She did not speak while working, and instead was deathly serious, snapping and yelling if someone should enter without permission.
"Lucas," she whined once more, "tell me you've brought me something fun to play with, I'm growing bored, which is never a good thing!" Falling to silence once more, she leaned over the railing and stared off into the town, wishing everyone would hurry back. Petty was a good way to describe her...and she was growing lonely, with no drinking games or stories or feats of strength being held on the usually rambunctious decks.
Archer Bishop
Archer had just finished off the last swig of a house ale that the waitress offered him as a sympathetic gesture. By the time Jericho would have arrived, the liveliness had died down. Bar-goers were beginning to resume their respective business. Occasionally, they would make a reference to the crazy hooded man for the sake of a joke. But for the most part, he had been disregarded. Which was just as well, Archer preferred it. Sometimes eavesdropping was the best way to get sincere information. The kind the speakers didn’t want anyone to hear.
The negligence for him was almost fully cemented when a commanding and powerful looking cyborg sauntered into the bar. His presence was the kind that demanded the attention of a room, without even speaking a word, it warped the atmosphere. Watching him from over the rim of his mug, Archer immediately recognized the man as his vice-captain, and he was just on time… late as usual.
Archer gestured to the waitress nonverbally for two more drinks, due to Ironheart’s rare condition and how he expected the events to follow; he expected the drinks would come in handy, “You didn’t waste any time getting here,” Archer grinned, “You’re only half an hour late today.”
Archer watched the cyborg fiddle with the locket as he spoke, a worldly man with many acquaintances, Jericho was dependable in tasks like this. Archer’s eyes ignited with inspiration. Two of the pieces had fallen into place: first, the map to Utopia which was being deciphered by their navigator as they spoke, and now this locket, Elven inscribed which meant it could have only originated from one place. Redvale. Half of a cryptic puzzle that would ensure the crews survival.
“No luck yet, Jericho, but I think that’s about to change.” Archer extended two fingers, subliminally shaped in the form of the barrel of gun toward a group of brutish looking men who for the moment had their back turned to the two at the bar, “Treasure hunters, as well, no doubt, and they haven’t left my eye since my arrival here. I’m sure they are waiting for me, well,” he glanced and studied Jericho’s face, “us now, to leave. No doubt so they can beat the information out of us and take the artifacts we may have.”
A devilish grin extended across his face as he stood, “I suppose it would be rude not to oblige. Did you come equipped?”
Aria Melbourne
The scene was not an unfamiliar one. Aethyra had a good heart, but could be scary when it came to engineering and Aria had grown accustomed to sitting in silence as the various crew members (particularly those whose work was in keeping the ship running) lectured her about being more careful. As the tender scolding of much more soothing voice than Captain Bishops began to fade, Aria picked up the last few words.
Now, don't...don't touch it. At all. OK?
Shit, she had forgot to listen. Again. Aria had a tendency to space out during long conversations, it was the only way to cope with the guilt. Fortunately for her (and probably the rest of the crew) she was able to summarize the important information with this final tidbit. Fearing the worst if she were to stay above deck, Aria stumbled backwards with a signature klutzy demeanor as she was saluted off and darted off toward the door to the lower decks. She was grateful to have someone to clean up after her messes, though she sincerely did not want abuse this by getting in the elder elf's way and inadvertently cause more trouble for her.
Aria pitterpattered down the stairs, her bare feet moving hastily to keep from lingering to long on the steel and becoming cold. Once at the bottom, she sprinted down the hallway at full speed. She didn't know why, or where she was going, she just did it impulsively, burning a pent up energy she'd built throughout the day. On her way down the hall, she crossed paths with Aethyra's assistant, Lucas, who appeared to be returning from his trip to Noxia. She smiled and waved a nonverbal "Good evening!" as they passed.
As they crossed, she spun on her heel and called back, a memory re-materializing in her brain, "I believe Aethyra is looking for you!"
She beamed, feeling an over whelming sense of pride in her own little mini-accomplishment. The engineer would have to forgive her now. Continuing her aimless expedition, Aria found herself in the dining hall, disappointed to find their chef had not yet returned. Dejectedly, she took a place at the table. It wasn't until she was seated that she realized how hungry she had become. At first for adventure, but now she would be satisfied getting a morsel of food in her endless stomach.
Jericho "Ironheart" Malone
Jericho gladly accepted the mug of fuel. He lowered his mask and grabbed the mug and downed the glass faster than humanly possible. He placed mug back down and wiped his mouth. There wasn't much alcohol in that, but it would do for now. He chuckled a bit when he heard Archer's response. "I guess I'm making a reputation out of it, aren't I? I don't mean to, I guess I'm just thorough with my work." he said with a half chuckle. He knew the Captain was a trustworthy man, though a bit odd, he just wasn't ready to tell anyone yet. He felt like he had to protect her. Yeah, real good job of protecting her from half a sky away. Why did he do this? Why wasn't he just providing for her and why didn't he just take care of her? Because she had a father out there......somewhere. They needed closure, they needed to know if he was a live or dead, and if the latter, how he met his end. He never in a million years thought he would be a pirate searching for lost golden city to find a young girls father. It just sounded to........crazy.
He noticed the change in Archer when he had finished telling him about the locket. He got that spark in his eyes. That spark that get him going through any amount of obstacles and nay sayers. If you could say anything about Archer Bishop, it would be that he would ever give up and never lose hope in anything he puts faith in. Whether it be Utopia or his crew. He had gained Jericho's respect, which was not easy to do by any feat, but he had gained it within moments of looking into his eyes.
Jericho gave him a queer look when he stated their luck was going to change. He saw the men Archer were referring to in the reflection of one of the brass ornaments that hung from the ceiling. Jericho then gave his Captain a surprised look when he mentioned starting trouble. He knew Archer wasn't a pacifist, but he hated any form of confrontation and did everything in his power to avoid it. Then again, nothing got i his way when it came to Utopia. His look of surprise melted into a similar devlish grin. He slowly opened his coat revealing his duel Pneuralizers, illegal military grade fire arms capable of single shot and full automatic fire. Burst rounds said to be to destructive for military use......he loved these guns. "Never leave the ship without them, sir. As if you have to ask." he lowered his coat and readied himself. "By your your lead, Captain."
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Lucas stopped mid step as he heard Aethyra. He sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Stealth failed." He laughed to himself and began making his way toward her location, knowing she likely just wanted someone to tease. On his way he past Aria. She was a cute kid, if a bit naive. He couldn't imagine traveling on a ship at her age... well, at least the age he thinks she is. Lucas gave Aria a nod as he past her. The sound of her from behind him made him turn and smile. "Yeah, yeah, I heard her. Stay out of trouble. Annoying Aethyra is my job, remember?" He could still hear Aethyra yelling for him. He past by the Captain's cabin on his way to her. Knowing Jay was in there, he gave a light tap on the wall as a way to say hi. It actually reminded him that he needed to keep working on a gambling device that counted the cards for him. He would do it himself, but usually by the third hand he is already to drunk to even remember that you're not supposed to go over 21. That last incident where he rubbed a score of 56 into his opponents face still sits firmly in his memory, and that of some of the crew's.
Opening the door to the deck, his first sight was that of his Supervisor leaning over the railing. After taking a brief moment to check her out, Lucas called out to her. "You rang, Master?" He laughed to himself as he walked over to the railing and leaned against it, staring out into the town with her. "There wasn't much I could buy with what money I had." He stood in silence for a few seconds before reaching into his satchel. "So, that being said, I managed to steal this 18 year old Vanari Rum from a local tax collector. Imported directly from Velan." He popped the top off and took a small sip from the bottle, coughing immediately afterward. "... Like butter." He smiled and rested the bottle on the railing, reaching back into his satchel one more time. "I brought back some trinkets and odds n' ends, but they're in a bag by my cot." He took out a rather intricate looking box. "Its a music box I found in the junk heaps. It doesn't work, but I think we might have usable parts in one of the piles of junk laying around." The box was beautifully ornate with engraving covering every inch of its outer casing that alternated between colors of white and purple. It was clear whoever made this box valued it greatly. Makes one wonder why it ended up in the trash?
Opening the door to the deck, his first sight was that of his Supervisor leaning over the railing. After taking a brief moment to check her out, Lucas called out to her. "You rang, Master?" He laughed to himself as he walked over to the railing and leaned against it, staring out into the town with her. "There wasn't much I could buy with what money I had." He stood in silence for a few seconds before reaching into his satchel. "So, that being said, I managed to steal this 18 year old Vanari Rum from a local tax collector. Imported directly from Velan." He popped the top off and took a small sip from the bottle, coughing immediately afterward. "... Like butter." He smiled and rested the bottle on the railing, reaching back into his satchel one more time. "I brought back some trinkets and odds n' ends, but they're in a bag by my cot." He took out a rather intricate looking box. "Its a music box I found in the junk heaps. It doesn't work, but I think we might have usable parts in one of the piles of junk laying around." The box was beautifully ornate with engraving covering every inch of its outer casing that alternated between colors of white and purple. It was clear whoever made this box valued it greatly. Makes one wonder why it ended up in the trash?
"Oh, Lucas!" she gasped and snatched the box from his hands, her eyes spinning over it methodically. "It's beautiful. And we WILL get it to work, even if our fingers bleed." With a smile at the man, Aeya grabbed the bottle of rum and took a deep swig, placing it down and swiping the back of her hand over her mouth. A streak of grease strayed behind on her cheeks, but she didn't seem to mind. "It's simple to drink, if you'd man up a little."
Her glowing blue eyes turned back onto the box in her hands, and she sped towards her workshop below decks, beckoning him to come after her. "It's old Elvhish, I think, we had ones like this back in the Clan." Her words were spilling out in a quick tirade, and she pushed a half-fixed radio from her workbench, letting it crash on the wood boards like trash. She placed it in the center of the table and crouched down, grinning wickedly. Her fingers traced etchings on the side, mouth forming strange and foreign words.
"'The Elkhunt', a popular Elvhen children's story." Aethyra grabbed her hood and tugged it back up over her flaming hair, smile falling back to a serious grimace. "Get my pliers, boy, would ya?" With an aggrivated flick of the wrist, she twirled her dress up and tied it above her hips, baring her underclothes, yet paying no mind; she was in work mode. She was gonna crack this thing open, and make it play again, let it bring her back memories of childhood.
Her glowing blue eyes turned back onto the box in her hands, and she sped towards her workshop below decks, beckoning him to come after her. "It's old Elvhish, I think, we had ones like this back in the Clan." Her words were spilling out in a quick tirade, and she pushed a half-fixed radio from her workbench, letting it crash on the wood boards like trash. She placed it in the center of the table and crouched down, grinning wickedly. Her fingers traced etchings on the side, mouth forming strange and foreign words.
"'The Elkhunt', a popular Elvhen children's story." Aethyra grabbed her hood and tugged it back up over her flaming hair, smile falling back to a serious grimace. "Get my pliers, boy, would ya?" With an aggrivated flick of the wrist, she twirled her dress up and tied it above her hips, baring her underclothes, yet paying no mind; she was in work mode. She was gonna crack this thing open, and make it play again, let it bring her back memories of childhood.
Rayne looked down at the crew, watching them from the rooftop of the nearest building. She sat perched, her eyes intent on her next prey. One thing made her think about turning back to the requester and declining his offer. There appeared to be a child on that ship.
"Son of a bitch," the thief muttered under her breath. The woman absentmindedly fiddled with what appeared to be a figurine of a robot while she thought. The payout on this was going to be good, all she needed to do was nab the music box that someone had picked up. It had taken her ages to find it and as she'd been about to snatch it from the pile of trash it was hidden in when he'd sauntered between her and it and picked the thing up. Okay, now the girl was gone so it made the job a hell of a lot easier now. Just swoop in, grab the box, and take off... simple.
Or so she thought. The woman he was holding the box to grabbed it and retreated below deck with her prize. But as she left the deck with her friend, no one remained. So she'd just need to track the woman to whichever room she'd retreated to.
"God damn it. Look's like we're doing this the hard way..." and she moved. Not precariously but with precision and grace, that not unlike the wildcat she was so often referred to as.
Rayne's feet pattered quietly on the cobble of the street as she ran to the docks. Coming to a rest at the ship's plank, Rayne reached and pulled her modified pistol from its holster under the clothes on her back. She walked up the plank, careful to not make a sound. As she reached the top, the hired thief ran across the deck, hid behind the full mast in the middle, out of sight of the staircase, and put the figurine from before to her lips.
It surged, power racing through the metal, as Ray dropped it to the ground. In a matter of seconds, the once small robotic figure stood six feet tall and nearly that at its waist. Teko, Rayne's old friend, rolled unoiled joints that creaked.
"You know," he muttered in a raspy metal voice, "I need to take a day off. Maybe go to a spa, find a pretty girl, get a massage." Rayne stifled a snort and instead smacked hit metal head with her gun's barrel. The ding rang out more so than it should have and Rayne mentally kicked herself.
She glanced at her friend, he nodded, and then she took off for the staircase leading below deck with him clanking behind. Down the stairs the pair went, Rayne clearing the way as they advanced. They slowed when they came to open doorways, Rayne peeking into each room before they continued. One room they crept past sat the little girl Rayne had seen earlier. She seemed to have zoned out, which was good.
Talking from ahead caused Rayne to smile. She'd found them. As she swept into the door frame, Teko behind her, to block any escape, Rayne raised her pistol to aim at the woman's head while Teko aimed for the boy's.
"I'll be taking that," she announced, her voice echoing into the hall.
"Son of a bitch," the thief muttered under her breath. The woman absentmindedly fiddled with what appeared to be a figurine of a robot while she thought. The payout on this was going to be good, all she needed to do was nab the music box that someone had picked up. It had taken her ages to find it and as she'd been about to snatch it from the pile of trash it was hidden in when he'd sauntered between her and it and picked the thing up. Okay, now the girl was gone so it made the job a hell of a lot easier now. Just swoop in, grab the box, and take off... simple.
Or so she thought. The woman he was holding the box to grabbed it and retreated below deck with her prize. But as she left the deck with her friend, no one remained. So she'd just need to track the woman to whichever room she'd retreated to.
"God damn it. Look's like we're doing this the hard way..." and she moved. Not precariously but with precision and grace, that not unlike the wildcat she was so often referred to as.
Rayne's feet pattered quietly on the cobble of the street as she ran to the docks. Coming to a rest at the ship's plank, Rayne reached and pulled her modified pistol from its holster under the clothes on her back. She walked up the plank, careful to not make a sound. As she reached the top, the hired thief ran across the deck, hid behind the full mast in the middle, out of sight of the staircase, and put the figurine from before to her lips.
It surged, power racing through the metal, as Ray dropped it to the ground. In a matter of seconds, the once small robotic figure stood six feet tall and nearly that at its waist. Teko, Rayne's old friend, rolled unoiled joints that creaked.
"You know," he muttered in a raspy metal voice, "I need to take a day off. Maybe go to a spa, find a pretty girl, get a massage." Rayne stifled a snort and instead smacked hit metal head with her gun's barrel. The ding rang out more so than it should have and Rayne mentally kicked herself.
She glanced at her friend, he nodded, and then she took off for the staircase leading below deck with him clanking behind. Down the stairs the pair went, Rayne clearing the way as they advanced. They slowed when they came to open doorways, Rayne peeking into each room before they continued. One room they crept past sat the little girl Rayne had seen earlier. She seemed to have zoned out, which was good.
Talking from ahead caused Rayne to smile. She'd found them. As she swept into the door frame, Teko behind her, to block any escape, Rayne raised her pistol to aim at the woman's head while Teko aimed for the boy's.
"I'll be taking that," she announced, her voice echoing into the hall.
Lucas took the drink back, popped the cap back on, and placed it back into his satchel. He laughed to himself as she jumped around before heading back below deck. Lucas sighed and scratched the back of his head. "I just can't keep up with that girl." After taking one last look at Noxia and breathing in its cold, dirty air, he followed after her, casually sauntering down the hall as she rambled on about the box. It was nice to see that she was so excited about something for a change, but why did he have to be the one dragged into it? Oh well, it would give him something to do until the Captain got back. He followed her into the workshop, leaning against the far wall and finally deciding to listen to her explanation of the box and her fascination with it. Aethyra pushed a radio down onto the ground, several parts spilling out of it as she did so. "I'm not positive, but I'm pretty sure you were asked to fix that radio by... damn, who was it again? Oh well, it'll come back to me eventually."
"Get my pliers, boy, would ya?"
Lucas rolled his eyes and walked over to her tool table. "Let's see, let's see... Ah!" He flipped the pliers up with his right and caught them with his left hand. "Pliers, check." He walked over to her and placed them in her hand, knowing she wasn't going to bother looking up from the box to grab them. "Never say I didn't give you anything. Who names a children's story 'The Elkhunt' anyway? Shouldn't it be called The Elk Parade, or The Elk Dance. You know, something with a bit of a happy-go-lucky feel to it." He moved some loose parts off a nearby hunk of metal, wiping the dust off and taking a seat. "I wouldn't get too excited, alright? Remember, I found it in a junk heap. Plus, if it is Elven I doubt we're going to find parts in Noxia of all places." Before he could continue blathering on, the sight of a woman and a rather large hunk of metal appeared in the doorway.
"I'll be taking that,"
Lucas looked at the duo, an eyebrow raised. He lifted his right arm up and snapped his fingers, pointing at Aethyra afterward. "Ryder. That was Ryder's radio. Man, that was driving me crazy. He asked you to fix that weeks ago. Not saying he'd do it, but you'd better eat off ship for a while." He stretched his arms out and sat forward, resting his elbows on the top of his knees. "Its your call, Boss. The box is yours now."
"Get my pliers, boy, would ya?"
Lucas rolled his eyes and walked over to her tool table. "Let's see, let's see... Ah!" He flipped the pliers up with his right and caught them with his left hand. "Pliers, check." He walked over to her and placed them in her hand, knowing she wasn't going to bother looking up from the box to grab them. "Never say I didn't give you anything. Who names a children's story 'The Elkhunt' anyway? Shouldn't it be called The Elk Parade, or The Elk Dance. You know, something with a bit of a happy-go-lucky feel to it." He moved some loose parts off a nearby hunk of metal, wiping the dust off and taking a seat. "I wouldn't get too excited, alright? Remember, I found it in a junk heap. Plus, if it is Elven I doubt we're going to find parts in Noxia of all places." Before he could continue blathering on, the sight of a woman and a rather large hunk of metal appeared in the doorway.
"I'll be taking that,"
Lucas looked at the duo, an eyebrow raised. He lifted his right arm up and snapped his fingers, pointing at Aethyra afterward. "Ryder. That was Ryder's radio. Man, that was driving me crazy. He asked you to fix that weeks ago. Not saying he'd do it, but you'd better eat off ship for a while." He stretched his arms out and sat forward, resting his elbows on the top of his knees. "Its your call, Boss. The box is yours now."
How to find Utopia:
Step 1) Find an airship and crew.
All discoverers had some form of transportation. The Great Hallendale had the Flying Pussyfoot and Winston Hays had the Luminescent Cobra. Both had crews armed to the teeth and money to make the expenditure possible. Iris had neither a crew, an airship, money nor weapons. There had to be another way...and there was.
"We have reached our destination. Thank you for choosing Wright Brothers Inc. Have a good day."
As he stood up from his seat; Iris doubted the good hopes of the stewardess whose voice boomed over the airship. The flight attendant on the speakerphone was enough to finally scare him into rushing out the boarding station onto solid land. Back in Juriya, he wasn't observant enough to notice the name of the company until he was inside the airship and it took off. What kind of company names itself after brothers who crashed in a fiery inferno? Iris thought, hands over knees as he panted for air. He had made it to Noxia. With no more money left.
Out of the frying pan and into the fire.
The elf looked like a mess, blonde hair strewn about, sweat dripping from his brow. Iris took his time to recover that morning, only carrying a small pack on his back that held some books, the corpse of his deceased cat, Lucky, two sticks of chalk, and a handwritten spell book that hung from his waist. Being dressed in a black cloak was his way of acting inconspicuous, plus, he always found warmth in the darker colors of clothing. Iris stood on the dock for twenty minutes and already didn't trust the people who came and went Noxia, the hulking, intimidating, dirty, cyborg men, nor the sharp, lusty eyed gaze of the woman.
Irie practically felt naked as he walked into the town, watching his back at every turn, whipping his head left and right, he knew he was too vulnerable. There were some brawling in the middle of the streets for no apparent reasons other then for the sake of fighting. The mage ducked into an alley to get away for the chaos; pondering how in the world he'll join a crew who's willing to find Utopia if he can't even securely walk the streets. That's when it caught his eye. For a moment, he wasn't sure if was really a carcass, but when he edged himself forward he could see it plainly. The rotting body of a rather large bulldog.
Kneeling down besides it, the necromancer put on a tight pair of black gloves, and inspected the severity of the rotting and it's wounds. Iris traced a finger to it's throat, which looks like it was torn apart, it's right eye missing, and the rotting left side that exposed it's ribs was host to flies and insects. The blood was all dried up and it didn't smell...much. It had brown fur and strong muscles; most likely the victim of a literal dogfight.
The idea popped up almost immediately and a confident smile appeared on Iris's pale face. He drew the book and opened the pages to a rather simple spell; a spell he utilized when he was sixteen to bring back his dead cat back to life. Still, for some reason, it helps to have one's eyes on the words, making the spell last for a longer time. The ancient words spilled past his lips for ten seconds as a smoothing white light softly resonated over the body of the rotting dog before disappearing. For a minute or so, it seemed like the spell wasn't worked, but the body twitched. The bulldog wiggled it's legs and managed to stand up, shortly after sitting on it's hind legs, a flesh-ridden green tongue lolling from it's mouth. It was bigger then Iris expected, reaching up to his own waist, but it had an excited demeanor. It gave a strong bark, nearly giving the Necromancer a heart attack, and sat panting.
"Uhmmm...good boy." Irie said, unsure of what to do. He was of course, a cat-man, but he had a vague idea of doggy commands. Most importantly however, the dog needed a name, instead of just calling it Dog. "Your new name is...Rusty." The mage said, pointing his finger at the dog, before quickly bringing it back to his side for fear of enraging it. Bringing animals back from the dead by their bodies tended to bring their spirit back as well; but they're still (mostly) bound by his word. It wasn't the same with a human corpse. "Come...Rusty?" He said, voice cracking into a question, confusing the dog as it looked at him with it's head tilted to the side. "Come Rusty." Iris said more confidently, having the bulldog give another strong bark, before sauntering off in his direction.
It was a lot easier to navigate the streets of Noxia with the confidence of a undead canine companion by his side. Mainly because people noticed the large rotting dog that barked loud enough for them to back off. Iris couldn't help but have a smile on his face as he was no longer the one scared.
Still, it left himself little progress into joining a crew of disgusting pirates. Hours passed until he finally remembered something from a horrid fiction book that could help him: taverns, bars, places to drink whatever you may call them. The beginning of a journey always started wherever there was alcohol. Yes, it seemed as bad as an idea then as it did now, but understand Iris was getting desperate. So he chose the tavern he could find, a quaint place by the name of the Gypsy's Pride, and turned around whenever he got close enough to the front door. The very thought of going into such a place was disgusting. How many bottoms has rubbed off on the stools and chairs? Twenty-years worth? How many people were inside; too many. Enough to make the air stale. And fights, mindless fights probably occurring around every corner inside.
By the sixth time he neared the door, it suddenly opened in front of him, two crusty-looking fellows coming out while in conversation.
"Can ya believe that guy? Chasing after myths and ghosts."
"People stupid enough to think Utopia exist are not worth living."
From that point in time Iris had discovered two things. The first was that there was someone else trying to find Utopia in that bar. The second was that even pirates thought finding Utopia was as pointless venture as regular people did.
Almost immediatly, one of the two bumped into the elf, too enveloped in thought to pay attention, crashing backwards into the ground.
"Watch it, girl!"
Watch it, girl! Watch it, girl! Watch it, girl! Watch it, girl! Watch it, girl! Watch it, girl! Watch it, girl! Watch it, girl! Watch it, girl! Watch it, girl!
The words echoed in Iris' head, teeth instantly grating against one another, a low growl escaping his lips. Too many times. Too many times. He was not a girl. Not a girl. NOT a girl! NEVER a damned girl!
The dog growled at the pair and their attention was instantly shifted to the undead canine. "What the fuck is that?!" One of them managed to shout, in shock at the rotting presence that bore his teeth against him. They re-examined the person they knocked over, long black cloak, knife-ears, and a book by the waist. It was easy to put two-and-two together as one word came in mind. A mysterious god-like power that they couldn't wrap their tiny minds around: Magic.
The words that left the necromancer's lips were that of a mere whisper.
"Rusty. Sic'em."
Rusty barked as a sign of affirmative action, but the two were already running, leaving the dog to give chase as Iris stood up and shouted the order again and again.
"Sic'em. Sic'em! SIC'EM!" Left painting outside the entrance of the Gypsies Pride, another pair of people stood in the doorway on their way out, one of them, a tall muscular cyborg, the other clothed in a cloak as well. The necromancer was left to regain whatever composure he had left, which wasn't much, before he could take his chance to enter the disgusting tavern.
"E-Excuse me..." He said, taking the last few breaths of air to stabilize himself. "I'm...looking for someone inside, someone who is...searching for...Utopia." Iris said, only managing to squeak out the name of the mythological city, bracing himself for more humiliation and ridicule only if it meant he could find the man those two idiots spoke of before.
Step 1) Find an airship and crew.
All discoverers had some form of transportation. The Great Hallendale had the Flying Pussyfoot and Winston Hays had the Luminescent Cobra. Both had crews armed to the teeth and money to make the expenditure possible. Iris had neither a crew, an airship, money nor weapons. There had to be another way...and there was.
"We have reached our destination. Thank you for choosing Wright Brothers Inc. Have a good day."
As he stood up from his seat; Iris doubted the good hopes of the stewardess whose voice boomed over the airship. The flight attendant on the speakerphone was enough to finally scare him into rushing out the boarding station onto solid land. Back in Juriya, he wasn't observant enough to notice the name of the company until he was inside the airship and it took off. What kind of company names itself after brothers who crashed in a fiery inferno? Iris thought, hands over knees as he panted for air. He had made it to Noxia. With no more money left.
Out of the frying pan and into the fire.
The elf looked like a mess, blonde hair strewn about, sweat dripping from his brow. Iris took his time to recover that morning, only carrying a small pack on his back that held some books, the corpse of his deceased cat, Lucky, two sticks of chalk, and a handwritten spell book that hung from his waist. Being dressed in a black cloak was his way of acting inconspicuous, plus, he always found warmth in the darker colors of clothing. Iris stood on the dock for twenty minutes and already didn't trust the people who came and went Noxia, the hulking, intimidating, dirty, cyborg men, nor the sharp, lusty eyed gaze of the woman.
Irie practically felt naked as he walked into the town, watching his back at every turn, whipping his head left and right, he knew he was too vulnerable. There were some brawling in the middle of the streets for no apparent reasons other then for the sake of fighting. The mage ducked into an alley to get away for the chaos; pondering how in the world he'll join a crew who's willing to find Utopia if he can't even securely walk the streets. That's when it caught his eye. For a moment, he wasn't sure if was really a carcass, but when he edged himself forward he could see it plainly. The rotting body of a rather large bulldog.
Kneeling down besides it, the necromancer put on a tight pair of black gloves, and inspected the severity of the rotting and it's wounds. Iris traced a finger to it's throat, which looks like it was torn apart, it's right eye missing, and the rotting left side that exposed it's ribs was host to flies and insects. The blood was all dried up and it didn't smell...much. It had brown fur and strong muscles; most likely the victim of a literal dogfight.
The idea popped up almost immediately and a confident smile appeared on Iris's pale face. He drew the book and opened the pages to a rather simple spell; a spell he utilized when he was sixteen to bring back his dead cat back to life. Still, for some reason, it helps to have one's eyes on the words, making the spell last for a longer time. The ancient words spilled past his lips for ten seconds as a smoothing white light softly resonated over the body of the rotting dog before disappearing. For a minute or so, it seemed like the spell wasn't worked, but the body twitched. The bulldog wiggled it's legs and managed to stand up, shortly after sitting on it's hind legs, a flesh-ridden green tongue lolling from it's mouth. It was bigger then Iris expected, reaching up to his own waist, but it had an excited demeanor. It gave a strong bark, nearly giving the Necromancer a heart attack, and sat panting.
"Uhmmm...good boy." Irie said, unsure of what to do. He was of course, a cat-man, but he had a vague idea of doggy commands. Most importantly however, the dog needed a name, instead of just calling it Dog. "Your new name is...Rusty." The mage said, pointing his finger at the dog, before quickly bringing it back to his side for fear of enraging it. Bringing animals back from the dead by their bodies tended to bring their spirit back as well; but they're still (mostly) bound by his word. It wasn't the same with a human corpse. "Come...Rusty?" He said, voice cracking into a question, confusing the dog as it looked at him with it's head tilted to the side. "Come Rusty." Iris said more confidently, having the bulldog give another strong bark, before sauntering off in his direction.
It was a lot easier to navigate the streets of Noxia with the confidence of a undead canine companion by his side. Mainly because people noticed the large rotting dog that barked loud enough for them to back off. Iris couldn't help but have a smile on his face as he was no longer the one scared.
Still, it left himself little progress into joining a crew of disgusting pirates. Hours passed until he finally remembered something from a horrid fiction book that could help him: taverns, bars, places to drink whatever you may call them. The beginning of a journey always started wherever there was alcohol. Yes, it seemed as bad as an idea then as it did now, but understand Iris was getting desperate. So he chose the tavern he could find, a quaint place by the name of the Gypsy's Pride, and turned around whenever he got close enough to the front door. The very thought of going into such a place was disgusting. How many bottoms has rubbed off on the stools and chairs? Twenty-years worth? How many people were inside; too many. Enough to make the air stale. And fights, mindless fights probably occurring around every corner inside.
By the sixth time he neared the door, it suddenly opened in front of him, two crusty-looking fellows coming out while in conversation.
"Can ya believe that guy? Chasing after myths and ghosts."
"People stupid enough to think Utopia exist are not worth living."
From that point in time Iris had discovered two things. The first was that there was someone else trying to find Utopia in that bar. The second was that even pirates thought finding Utopia was as pointless venture as regular people did.
Almost immediatly, one of the two bumped into the elf, too enveloped in thought to pay attention, crashing backwards into the ground.
"Watch it, girl!"
Watch it, girl! Watch it, girl! Watch it, girl! Watch it, girl! Watch it, girl! Watch it, girl! Watch it, girl! Watch it, girl! Watch it, girl! Watch it, girl!
The words echoed in Iris' head, teeth instantly grating against one another, a low growl escaping his lips. Too many times. Too many times. He was not a girl. Not a girl. NOT a girl! NEVER a damned girl!
The dog growled at the pair and their attention was instantly shifted to the undead canine. "What the fuck is that?!" One of them managed to shout, in shock at the rotting presence that bore his teeth against him. They re-examined the person they knocked over, long black cloak, knife-ears, and a book by the waist. It was easy to put two-and-two together as one word came in mind. A mysterious god-like power that they couldn't wrap their tiny minds around: Magic.
The words that left the necromancer's lips were that of a mere whisper.
"Rusty. Sic'em."
Rusty barked as a sign of affirmative action, but the two were already running, leaving the dog to give chase as Iris stood up and shouted the order again and again.
"Sic'em. Sic'em! SIC'EM!" Left painting outside the entrance of the Gypsies Pride, another pair of people stood in the doorway on their way out, one of them, a tall muscular cyborg, the other clothed in a cloak as well. The necromancer was left to regain whatever composure he had left, which wasn't much, before he could take his chance to enter the disgusting tavern.
"E-Excuse me..." He said, taking the last few breaths of air to stabilize himself. "I'm...looking for someone inside, someone who is...searching for...Utopia." Iris said, only managing to squeak out the name of the mythological city, bracing himself for more humiliation and ridicule only if it meant he could find the man those two idiots spoke of before.
The response that followed Ryder’s smart-assed remark was to be expected. Ryder wore a certain type of look that provoked hatred from members of the lower class, and it wasn’t just his formal attire it was his entire air. Ryder fancied himself as an intellectual, often using the power of word smithing to incite his enemies. Which usually came off as condescending, but that was just how the chef had always been. It didn’t matter if you were Noxian, Juriyan, a Redvale native, or a Chromian. Ryder was just…better than you, and he knew it. Especially if you were a competing male. Because of his privileged past, Ryder had a tendency to forget to acknowledge the situation. After all he was in Noxia, this was thieves’ domain. And he was in no place to be running his mouth in the presence of men much more raw and brutish than he was. They already had a disposition against him, and Ryder had, without fail, managed to ignite the fire.
“Nah, tis that right pretty boy?” The man grimaced, “Ya see, talkin’ like that will get ja in a lot er trouble ‘ere. Tis ain’t no Juriyan capital. Yer in Noxian now, boy, and the rules here are different.” The oafish man had ricocheted around his stand and was now towering above massive arms folded across his chest. He was within inches of Ryder’s body.
Ryder studied the scene that was taking place around him. He had managed to somehow attract the attention of a variety of market-goers. “Kick his ass, Jacque!” “Put that aristocrat in his place.” They crowd heckled.
“Rules? You’re trying to tell me you Noxians abide by a code of honor?” He glanced around once more, annoyed that for once, a crowd had turned against his charm and wit, “You’re all a bunch of prison-bound shit rats, unfairly ganging up against a single Juriyan. But if you feel you need that much support, by all means – “
Fueled by the encouragement of the crowd, the shopkeep lunged with open palms at Ryder’s throat, lifting him by his jugular so that his feet dangled off the ground and the two had met eye to eye. Surprisingly, Ryder’s body remained rather motionless and calm.
“I can take care of yeh by myself.” Jacque said, tightening his grip around the aristocrat’s neck.
Ryder’s fingers peaked out from the cuffs of his tail coat, spasming seemingly as the air was drained from his body. The small crowd wildly roared as the redness cracked at the corner of his eyes, spreading around his pupil, but he still did not struggle. Jacque briefly loosened his grip as he stared at Ryder with a puzzled look. Ryder exchanged the glance with somewhat of a malicious glare, and for a fleeting moment, Jacque could have sworn, the chef flared a smirk.
The mechanical arm twitched more erratically as it shifted form into a small, but powerful blade. Ryder plunged the knife into the shopkeeper’s eye, and was immediately released. Without hesitation, Ryder utilized the moment of bewilderment to regain his composure. Slicking back perfectly oiled blonde hair, he swept behind the stand, stuffing a satchel full of urragon then sprinting off down the street, accumulating a following of angry bystanders. He weaved through several decomposing archways, until he was able to find an alley way to stow away in.
Feeling somewhat uneasy about his hiding place, Ryder attempted to distinguish the sounds of footsteps beating on the street over the beating of his own heart. He couldn’t say with confidence that he had lost them just yet. Ryder found quickly, that the alleyway tunneled into a dead end at the opposite side, and desperately searched for an alternative hiding spot. Surprisingly bare, with the exception of broken trinkets and a drunken (or perhaps dead) hobo’s body, Ryder felt at a loss, and able to catch his breath, he could hear the voices of disgruntled civilians still on the search. In one final plea, he glanced to the sky above, and noticed a conveniently window with just enough avail for him to crawl into. Brushing up on amateur parkour, he pulled himself up the knobby wall, grasping onto the trail of unstable stones to the window.
Once inside, he was greeted by a rather appalled looking woman, maybe thirty years of age, and voluptuous to top it off.
Instinctively he raised a single finger to his lips, “Please don’t scream.” He pleaded with an assertive tone, then proceeded to pull her into a passionate kiss. The two remained that way for a good five minutes, and he could feel the woman’s at first reluctant body ease under his touch until the footsteps rushed past the window, and were now dejectedly trailing back.
Ryder pulled away first, and bowed his head courteously. “Thank you m’adam.”
Awestruck, and to none of his surprised, she did not reply. Ryder scurried around her residence, peering out each of her windows to find the clearest path to the port.
“Will you stay?” The woman asked as Ryder, who had now selected his route of escape, was hunched in an open windowsill.
“Sorry, see I have a commitment to attend to. Don’t get me wrong, you are a very attractive woman, but there are other riches I need to pursue.” With this vague statement, he flicked a under-lived wave, and jumped down to the street below.
Once he arrived at the port, Ryder could feel his heart race. He breathed a sigh of relief as he climbed up onto the massive ship, and once aboard all his inhibitions had been released.
“Elora! Aethyra!” He called pleasantly and in a sweet voice that was uncommon to his demeanor. “I am back my goddesses!”
It wasn’t uncommon that the girls did not respond with the same excitement, but the silence was an unfamiliar thing. Especially aboard this ship. Curiously he wandered about the deck, heading down the hatch to the lower levels. “Aria, darling? Where are you.” Even the little elfling he fancied as a daughter was silent. “Geez, what happened.” Ryder muttered to himself, “Did someone die?”
Ryder first found the elfling, sitting at the table with her face in the palm of her hands as he had predicted she would be. She looked so cute expectantly and faithfully waiting for her chef to arrive. “Aria!” he exclaimed with arms open, welcoming her embrace, “Where is everyone?!”
“Nah, tis that right pretty boy?” The man grimaced, “Ya see, talkin’ like that will get ja in a lot er trouble ‘ere. Tis ain’t no Juriyan capital. Yer in Noxian now, boy, and the rules here are different.” The oafish man had ricocheted around his stand and was now towering above massive arms folded across his chest. He was within inches of Ryder’s body.
Ryder studied the scene that was taking place around him. He had managed to somehow attract the attention of a variety of market-goers. “Kick his ass, Jacque!” “Put that aristocrat in his place.” They crowd heckled.
“Rules? You’re trying to tell me you Noxians abide by a code of honor?” He glanced around once more, annoyed that for once, a crowd had turned against his charm and wit, “You’re all a bunch of prison-bound shit rats, unfairly ganging up against a single Juriyan. But if you feel you need that much support, by all means – “
Fueled by the encouragement of the crowd, the shopkeep lunged with open palms at Ryder’s throat, lifting him by his jugular so that his feet dangled off the ground and the two had met eye to eye. Surprisingly, Ryder’s body remained rather motionless and calm.
“I can take care of yeh by myself.” Jacque said, tightening his grip around the aristocrat’s neck.
Ryder’s fingers peaked out from the cuffs of his tail coat, spasming seemingly as the air was drained from his body. The small crowd wildly roared as the redness cracked at the corner of his eyes, spreading around his pupil, but he still did not struggle. Jacque briefly loosened his grip as he stared at Ryder with a puzzled look. Ryder exchanged the glance with somewhat of a malicious glare, and for a fleeting moment, Jacque could have sworn, the chef flared a smirk.
The mechanical arm twitched more erratically as it shifted form into a small, but powerful blade. Ryder plunged the knife into the shopkeeper’s eye, and was immediately released. Without hesitation, Ryder utilized the moment of bewilderment to regain his composure. Slicking back perfectly oiled blonde hair, he swept behind the stand, stuffing a satchel full of urragon then sprinting off down the street, accumulating a following of angry bystanders. He weaved through several decomposing archways, until he was able to find an alley way to stow away in.
Feeling somewhat uneasy about his hiding place, Ryder attempted to distinguish the sounds of footsteps beating on the street over the beating of his own heart. He couldn’t say with confidence that he had lost them just yet. Ryder found quickly, that the alleyway tunneled into a dead end at the opposite side, and desperately searched for an alternative hiding spot. Surprisingly bare, with the exception of broken trinkets and a drunken (or perhaps dead) hobo’s body, Ryder felt at a loss, and able to catch his breath, he could hear the voices of disgruntled civilians still on the search. In one final plea, he glanced to the sky above, and noticed a conveniently window with just enough avail for him to crawl into. Brushing up on amateur parkour, he pulled himself up the knobby wall, grasping onto the trail of unstable stones to the window.
Once inside, he was greeted by a rather appalled looking woman, maybe thirty years of age, and voluptuous to top it off.
Instinctively he raised a single finger to his lips, “Please don’t scream.” He pleaded with an assertive tone, then proceeded to pull her into a passionate kiss. The two remained that way for a good five minutes, and he could feel the woman’s at first reluctant body ease under his touch until the footsteps rushed past the window, and were now dejectedly trailing back.
Ryder pulled away first, and bowed his head courteously. “Thank you m’adam.”
Awestruck, and to none of his surprised, she did not reply. Ryder scurried around her residence, peering out each of her windows to find the clearest path to the port.
“Will you stay?” The woman asked as Ryder, who had now selected his route of escape, was hunched in an open windowsill.
“Sorry, see I have a commitment to attend to. Don’t get me wrong, you are a very attractive woman, but there are other riches I need to pursue.” With this vague statement, he flicked a under-lived wave, and jumped down to the street below.
Once he arrived at the port, Ryder could feel his heart race. He breathed a sigh of relief as he climbed up onto the massive ship, and once aboard all his inhibitions had been released.
“Elora! Aethyra!” He called pleasantly and in a sweet voice that was uncommon to his demeanor. “I am back my goddesses!”
It wasn’t uncommon that the girls did not respond with the same excitement, but the silence was an unfamiliar thing. Especially aboard this ship. Curiously he wandered about the deck, heading down the hatch to the lower levels. “Aria, darling? Where are you.” Even the little elfling he fancied as a daughter was silent. “Geez, what happened.” Ryder muttered to himself, “Did someone die?”
Ryder first found the elfling, sitting at the table with her face in the palm of her hands as he had predicted she would be. She looked so cute expectantly and faithfully waiting for her chef to arrive. “Aria!” he exclaimed with arms open, welcoming her embrace, “Where is everyone?!”
"You want. My box." Aethyra didn't even turn to look in the doorway, and instead began to fiddle with the music box, popping the top off and beginning to stare at the gears. "I'll fix Ryder's radio later, I want to fix the box first. Elven bedstories are not happy, nor cheery. They are quite dark." She leaned against the table and sighed.
"Sorry, lady, but this box is mine now. Fair and square."
Singing louder, she began to pull out small parts and study them, grinning. "I have plenty of contacts where I can get parts if I need them. Now then." She turn and grinned at the woman and machine, her eyes suddenly glimmering.
"Oh my Dread Wolf, what is that? Can I play with it? Can I touch it? Can I pull it apart? Oh, please!" she run forward staring at the large robot. It was like nothing she had ever seen, and she wanted to study it, badly. "Stay for dinner, we'll discuss the box, and your friend here. How about it? Seem fair?"
((SUper sorry about the shortness of the post :/ ))
"Sorry, lady, but this box is mine now. Fair and square."
Singing louder, she began to pull out small parts and study them, grinning. "I have plenty of contacts where I can get parts if I need them. Now then." She turn and grinned at the woman and machine, her eyes suddenly glimmering.
"Oh my Dread Wolf, what is that? Can I play with it? Can I touch it? Can I pull it apart? Oh, please!" she run forward staring at the large robot. It was like nothing she had ever seen, and she wanted to study it, badly. "Stay for dinner, we'll discuss the box, and your friend here. How about it? Seem fair?"
((SUper sorry about the shortness of the post :/ ))
Archer Bishop
Archer pried himself from his place at the bar. He was finding as he got older the bar was becoming like a long-distance lover. The longer he spent away from it, the increasingly more difficult it was to leave. He enjoyed the atmosphere, the smoke hazed his thoughts and for the moments he wallowed and drank, time was at a standstill. Nothing could go awry, no one would get hurt. Of course, he couldn’t confine himself to that fantasy world forever. He gathered his carefully concealed equipment without forgetting to tip the waitress, who in the short time of knowing her, he had figured to be too soft of heart to work in a bar in Noxia. Misfortune favors the good of heart he supposed
Archer casually sauntered across the tavern without acknowledging the group of men he had up until this point been keeping such a watchful eye on all night. He swung open the tavern door, and as if on queue, they followed suit. He could hear them arise: the sound of their chairs sliding against iron floors and his suspicions were confirmed. As he predicted they had intended to follow him somewhere their confrontation would not be interrupted or overheard no doubt. Archer glanced at Jericho and nodded a nonverbal message of understanding. He could trust that Jericho was every bit as aware of their surroundings as he was. They shared that weather-worn warrior’s intuition.
Had Archer looked ahead a moment later he would have collided into a bumbling and shrouded elf that now stood inches before the two pirates. Archer was already baffled by the elf’s immediate appearance, but the first line he managed to stutter startled and confused him all the more:
"I'm...looking for someone inside, someone who is...searching for...Utopia."
Archer first looked to Jericho for confirmation, to be clear he had heard the creature right. Then his mind immediately ran through the possibilities; a fellow treasure hunter? A government official? Or perhaps it was just someone who wanted to further mock the existence of the city. Having lost track of time, Archer studied the sky to assess how the situation could be handled in the period that remained. The sun was in limbo, its bottom edge resting in a dip in the island’s horizon. They didn’t have enough of the ever precious time to explain in full. But, he found in his experience as a pirate. Things usually tended to explain themselves if an individual was willing to wait it out. After all, their followers were expecting a show.
He patted the hooded elf on the shoulder with a smirk. He was finding it difficult not to laugh at the unfortunate timing of this scenario, “Well, kid, the people you’re looking for aren’t in there. Come on over here,” he said leading the elf by his shoulders, “You’ll meet several people looking for the…aforementioned city.”
Archer led the two into a crevice in the wall, which itself led to an empty junk lot. “One way in…” Archer thought to himself. He then turned, and waited. Like clockwork, five men emerged from the same whole in the wall.
“What are you looking for boys?” Archer called.
“Same thing as you.” One responded with a tone of impatience to his voice. Archer studied the builds of each of the individuals, there were two artificials, one with the same detriment as their own chef, a mechanical arm, currently conformed to a claw-like device, the other with the misfortune (or advantage) of having an entire metal half made of steel, probably a speed utility more than anything. The last three were humans armed with pistols, though they looked capable of beating each of the individuals within an inch of their lives. If he didn’t know better. Archer teased, “Afraid to say the name?” “Fuck yew, what do yew know.” The half-cyborg spat in a heavily accented slur.
“Less than you do, of this I can assure you.” Archer said defensively. “That may be true, but we don’t give a damn about the information we already ‘ave, what we want is what is own to us… that frackin’ locket, and anything other information yew might ‘ave.”
Archer looked up in a fake contemplation, “I don’t suppose you’d want to just peacefully exchange information would you?” The five didn’t humor him this time. Brutes like this usually didn’t, why negotiate when you could have everything by use of force. “That’s a shame boys, you could join the Satan’s Serpent. We wouldn’t have to partake in this childish game.”
“Fuck yew, this is yer last chance boy. Lest we take what we need by force.”
Archer’s face falsed a look of offense. He turned to Jericho, “I guess they don’t want to join us.” He said sadistically. After studying the body language of his two companion’s Archer pulled a gun from a pocket in his vest and fired at the the half-cyborgs right leg, puncturing the joint and unleashing a geyser of steam in the confined space. He then immediately dragged the hooded necromancer from the line of fire, leaving Jericho to his handiwork.
"Don't kill them all Jericho. We need one alive." Archer commanded.
Aria Melbourne
Aria was having trouble keeping her head upright. Her empty belly, as well as the overwhelming anticipation had worn her down. In a distant dream, she could hear Ryder calling her to dinner,
“Aria, darling! Where are you”
“I am right here Ryder, come feed me Ryder!” Aria mumbled to herself in a dreamy-daze. The dream quickly shifted into a nightmare. Aria was beneath the floor of the ship, hungry and trapped, unable to call out to her chef. She could hear the footsteps above, seeking her, but unable to hear her. She could smell the wafting scent of Ryder’s signature spices, and drool seeped from the corner of her mouth, and she scratched desperately for freedom. “Aria, Aria, Aria?!” Ryder’s voice would call.
“Aria!” This time it wasn’t a dream, someone was calling for her. Aria, who had been lying on the table, jolted into an erect position. There was Ryder standing in front of her, looking more ethereal then she could ever remember, arms extended out to her in a welcoming embrace. Aria wiped the drool on her sleeve and plummeted into Ryder’s stomach she nuzzled it a bit before recognizing the question he had asked.
Backing up away from the chef she bit her lip. For the most part she had been asleep through the commotion, “Lucas…and Aethyra, are here.” She struggled to think, “ I also think that, Elora is hauled up in the Captain’s Room. But the others, they must be below deck.”
Aria’s conversations were always like this, out of place and disjointed. To fully understand one really had to pay close attention.
Jericho "Ironheart" Malone
It seemed Archer was finally ready to leave as he struggled to his feet and seemed to pry himself off of the bar. Jericho missed the days when he was dependent on alcohol for emotional reasons.......and to get sauced for the hell of it. Now Jericho has to drink to live and can't even enjoy the relief of being drunk. The things he had to live with in order to......well, keep living. They made their way to the exit and as if it was a cue button, the second they opened the door, he could hear the sound of five chairs scraping along the floor. Amateurs, didn't even wait to be out of earshot. Archer gave him a knowing nod in which Jericho returned. They were about to relocate themselves to a better area to deal the stalkers, but they were instead greeted by a very lithe elf cloaked in black. He seemed incredibly scared, but not in an innocent way. More in a I don't know what to do next, sort of way.
"I'm...looking for someone inside, someone who is...searching for...Utopia."
Archer simply turned to him with a look that practically screamed 'Did he just really say that?'. A small chuckle escaped Jericho's lips and simply nodded. The odds of this elf bumping into them at such a crucial moment of them retrieving info about Utopia when the Elf is looking for the very exact thing were astronomical. But, either way, here he was. It seemed Archer, not wanting to explain the situation seeing as in they were in a hurry, decided to take the elf along with them. Great, another ass he was going to have to cover. He knew how this would end up, Archer would make a distraction and he would have to take all of the guys. Now don't get him wrong, he prefers working this way, but now he would have to cover a civi, and he was not looking forward to that.
Archer led them through a crevice in the wall into an empty lot. Jericho quickly surveyed it, one way in or out, good choice. Archer was very good at subtly setting up scenarios where he and his would come out on top, one of the reasons Jericho enjoyed following him for all these years. Jericho spun on his heel and stared at the hole, waiting for the arrival of their new soon to be informants.
Seconds later, they came through the hole and then lined up to show how many there were and what kind of fire power they had. All in all, it was rather unimpressive to Jericho. Two arti's and three mugs with pistols. Nothing he couldn't handle......blindfolded......with both his hands tied around his back.
Jericho mentally readied himself and saw in his mind how he was going to take each one down. While he did this, Archer and the thugs exchanged words back and forth, all the while Archer remaining cool. He heard that they wanted the locket, as if Jericho didn't need more incentive to kill them. Soon the words came to a close as Archer gave his usual signal that shit was about to go down. He turned to him, mocking an offended expression. “I guess they don’t want to join us.” Jericho then mimicked a disappointed voice. "Aw, well you tried Cap. No one to blame but them." Jericho then glanced with an evil grin back to the 5. As if on cue, Archer whipped out his pistol and shot one of the Arti's legs, a pressure cable of all things. Steam began to fill the area quickly and managed blind a lot of the goons. Archer then pulled the elf aside.
"Don't kill them all Jericho. We need one alive." Archer commanded.
Jericho nodded. "Aye aye, sir." Suddenly, gunfire started emerge from the now clearing steam cloud. It was mainly panic fire and wasn't really near him at all. Jericho was frozen for a few moments, his fingers rubbing against themselves. He then lowered his goggles and put the maw back onto his face. He froze there for a split second, then he leaped into action. His coat seemed to fly open as he retrieved one of his pistols out of it's holster as he leaped forward and rolled on the ground. He came back onto his knees as he raised his pistol in both hands. He then quickly and efficiently fired off five shots to five different places. The entire motion took under 5 seconds, then, they all fell to the ground. Jericho stood up, reloaded his gun, and casually walked over to the 5 fallen bodies.
One of them, a normal one in a burgundy suit, was moaning on the ground, a hole going straight through his left shin. Ignoring him Jericho walked up to each body and delivered two shots into each one for their heads. The military had trained him to always do a triple tap to each kill. When he came to the mechanical armed cyborg, he raised his gun to his head. Suddenly the cyborg's eyes burst open and his claw grabbed Jericho's gun and yanked it out of his direction. He then delivered a sucker punch to Jericho's nether regions, causing him to let go of his gun. The claw then came down onto Jericho's throat and he was hoisted up into the air. Jericho clamped his hands down onto the arm to support himself.
The goon looked him dead in the eyes with an evil grin. "I'm 'onna squeeze the life out of ya, then I'm 'onna torture your boys over there for what I came 'ere for. Then, I'll...." he was suddenly cut off by Jericho swinging his body up and wrapping his thighs around the mechanical arm, then his feet around the other one. Jericho then heaved with all of his might and caused the goon to flip backward and land on the back of his head. The claw released his throat and the First Mate quickly shifted his position and wrapped his arms around the metal arm of his assailant and planted his boot on his shoulder. He then began cranking it to the left as hard as he could. The goon started to scream as blood was slowly from from his arm socket. Then, with a sudden sound of snapping metal and bone, the arm dislocated and blood began to pour from his arm socket. Jericho readjusted himself so he was sitting straddling the goon's chest and facing him. Jericho bent down and said through his mask. "If your going to kill someone, just do it. Because if you talk about it to them, it gives them time to do exactly what a I just did." The goon simply let out a few pitiful whines as his face started to lose color. Jericho then held the goon's head in his hands and spoke. "By the way, my name is Jericho Malone." With that, Jericho then snapped his neck so hard that it spun completely around.
Jericho then got off of him and started to fully detach the arm from his body. When it was completely off, he then pulled the man's coat off of his corpse and wrapped it around the arm. HE looked over to Archer. "Spare parts for Ryder." was all the explanation he gave. He then slowly walked over to the injured man. He was breathing rapidly but seemed to be slowly slipping out of shock. Jericho reached into his coat and pulled out a small piece of paper and small brown bag. He poured the contents of the bag into the paper and rolled it up. It was tobacco. Jericho put the bag back and drew out a lighter. He lowered the MAW and lit the cigarette and took a long drag on it. He puffed out the smoke and then looked down at the injured man. He was now staring daggers at him. Jericho cocked his head at him, put the cigarette into his mouth, bent down, then delivered a quick jab to his nose. The man called out in pain as blood began to rush from his nose. Jericho then picked the man up by his shirt and began walking over to his captain, carrying the man like he would a piece of luggage.
He plopped the man down in front of Archer and took another drag on is cigarette. "Here you are then, chief, one living goon." Jericho said proudly.
Archer Bishop
Archer, who had until this point been impatiently watching from behind a pile of discarded gears and metallic plates, almost lunged to his feet after the five gunshots rang through his ears. Five was more than enough for Jericho.
By a normal person’s standards, it was an inappropriate circumstance to be as jovial as the captain appeared, yet contrary to the status quo, Archer chuckled, slamming an open hand on his new companions back, “Heh, sorry if you were hoping for more of a show.” He joked. As he swept the remnants of the ground off of his trousers, he could hear one of the thugs rise to the occasion. “Brave soul,” Archer muttered to himself. Without so much as batting an eye toward the commotion, Archer could make an educated guess of who was triumphing. He cringed at the too familiar sound of metal grinding and bone giving way under pressure. Shortly after, a second crack followed the first, silencing the pathetic whimpering the artificial. He didn’t understand how cowards like that could justify their existence. Archer had always believed the useless did not deserve to consume air. Waste not, want not he supposed. After Jericho finished off the rest with the traditional dual shots to the head, he dropped the remainder at his captain’s feet. “Flawless,” Archer said beneath his breath. Archer found that the case with his crew was an unusual one; their loyalty had yet to outweigh their usefulness.
“Here you are chief, one living goon.” There was a tone of pride flavoring Jericho’s speech. Modesty was not among Jericho’s many attributes. And Archer found that to be a surprisingly engaging trait. It kept Archer’s spirits high.
Archer crouched next to the hostage, resting his elbows on either of his squatted knees. He cocked his head slightly as he inspected the seeping wound left by Jericho’s bullet. Smiling a familiar friendly smile, he spoke in a sympathetic yet sarcastic tone of voice, “Sorry about that, I really had hoped our negotiation wouldn’t have a violent outcome. But you should be thanking your lucky stars chance had mercy on you. One of five and you are the survivor.” He clapped his hands mockingly.
The goon’s chest had a heavy rise and fall, and Archer could see his eyes flare up in hatred. Still, he was smart or frightened enough to not speak on it. One of the two.
Archer cleared his throat awkwardly, “I’ll cut to the chase then… As you can see, in your position we wouldn’t need speed, intellect or strength to deliver the coup de grace. And as you can also see by my first mate’s display even given that, we have plenty of each. You know what we want, and I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, so in the interest of not defying fate, you could leave here a breathing man if you just tell me what you know. By my honor.” Archer beamed with a youthful appearance as he held a hand over his heart.
“Fack yew. You fackin’ cur. I’d rather die ‘ere wallowing in some stray dogs feces. ”
Archer sighed dejectedly, so this was how it was going to be. He wasn’t too surprised, just disappointed. The unrelenting egotism of man never ceased to amaze. How merciful did he have to be before someone would take him on his offer? Archer smeared his finger in the alley’s dust, then wedged it in the man’s wound rotating it a bit. The hostage’s body squirmed beneath Archer’s touch, “You’d be a damned fool to believe that enduring pain equates success. The barrel of Jericho’s gun only gets hotter every time it’s fired, my satchel is equipped with a skinning knife, you don’t need many of your appendages for survival and my friend over there,” Archer pointed with his thumb toward the hooded civilian, “She – Err. He? Well he was recently released from a psyche ward, don’t know why though, considering the reason he was admitted in the first place. I heard he set someone’s arm’s ablaze, cut off the charred remnants and put maggots in the hollowed out stumped of the shoulder blade.”
The hostage responded by spitting in Archer’s face. He should have expected that too. Perhaps the last one was too far-stretched. It wasn’t uncommon for the captain to get caught up in his own whimsical tales.
Archer sighed sliding a hand down his face, he didn’t like what he had to do, but there was no other option, “Then I suppose it wouldn’t help to tell you I am wanted for sexual offenses against male civilians across the skies?”
“You’re lying.” The goon called.
Archer stood and began to simulate unbuttoning his trousers. He didn’t have to suggest much before the goon was spilling at the mouth. “Captain was talkin’ bout a ruin on Redvale, says ‘e visited it once, ancient scriptures inside an’ all. ‘E said the ancients’ civilizations might be ‘aving some way to survive the Great Abyss. But when ‘e tried to get inside, it was sealed shut. That’s all I know, Redvale is yer best bet.”
Archer had assumed as much. His suspicions were confirmed, even if they had a means to reach Utopia, there would be no way to the escape pull of the Great Abyss. Not without some sort of vantage. He liked Red Vale, it was a good place to start. Archer tipped his bowler in the direction of the wounded parasite. True to his word he exited the alleyway, leaving the hostage where he sat.
Archer finally directed his attention to the helpless elf, who they had momentarily taken captive to suit their needs, he grinned maliciously in his direction. “So you say you’re looking for Utopia huh? I don’t much care about your business there, or what you are capable of, but here’s my offer. Our ship embarks in at most an hour. You can join us, or go about it your own way. I don’t mind a little friendly competition, but keep in mind, it is my full intent that my crew is first to come back alive from the city. If you get in the way of that dream, you can join them.” Archer gestured to the lifeless bodies with the cock of his head, “What’s it going to be?”
Umbra looked down at the ground ahead of her as she ran through several alleys, rushing to the sound of gunfire. This is most likely them, she thought to herself. She saw two men talking to each other, and could see a pile of corpses on the floor. She wandered out to greet them, when she noticed the man unbuttoning his pants. "Excuse me!" She called out to the men, hoping they wouldn't kill her on sight. "Am I interrupting something? If not, Are you part of the Fleet Foot Pirates? I've been wanting to join, but didn't know where to find you! I heard the gunshots, so I suspected they should be there. Can I join you?" She took a few heavy breaths to compensate for how much she had to say. Thankfully, she thought, they had heard something from her, since one of them cast a glance her way. "If I can't join you, i'll have nowhere to go..."
Hearing Ryder's familiar voice, Aethyra smiled and called out to him loudly, "Yo, Ryder, we have some visitors! And I think they wanna stay for dinner!" Grinning cheekily, she swept back towards the workshop table and plucked the radio up from the floor. She'd have to remember to fix it up and stay in the man's good graces; then again, he was soft on her, soft on ALL women, so a good pout and a bat of her eyelashes would be sure that he'd forgive her.
"Spider, please escort the guests to the kitchen, would ya?" she smiled at her assistant, then settled into position at the workbench, her eyes fixating on the gadgets in front of her, smirk falling from her face. Work mode once again, though curious still about the woman's mechanical friend, Aethyra began to work on the radio, the box just a flick of the wrist away, so she could grab it if necessary.
"Spider, please escort the guests to the kitchen, would ya?" she smiled at her assistant, then settled into position at the workbench, her eyes fixating on the gadgets in front of her, smirk falling from her face. Work mode once again, though curious still about the woman's mechanical friend, Aethyra began to work on the radio, the box just a flick of the wrist away, so she could grab it if necessary.
Rayne clicked back the hammer on her pistol to prove a point. "Box. Now." The next actions of the seemingly elvish woman confused Rayne.
"Oh my Dread Wolf, what is that? Can I play with it? Can I touch it? Can I pull it apart? Oh, please!" she practically squealed, running to examine Teko. The robot, slightly confused, took a step back.
"I relinquish the fact that you'd want to take me apart," he stated, lowering the weapon in his robotic hand. "The only one that has authorization to do so is my female friend here."
Rayne smiled. "That's right. I'm the one that built him in the first place. And I must decline your invitation to stay as I have other pressing matters to attend to. Now, if you please, I'll be taking the box that sits on your desk."
Voices from the hallway interrupted Rayne's speech.
"Yo, Ryder, we have some visitors! And I think they wanna stay for dinner!" called out the woman that still stood in front of Teko. Almost as if she'd completely lost interest, the woman went back to the bench and began working on something smaller, leaving the box within reaching distance.
"Actually, I think I will stay for some food," Rayne announced, stashing her weapon in the hip holster. Teko looked at his friend and began to think of why she would have changed her mind.
"However, you're not authorized to touch my robotic friend at all. Capiche?"
"Oh my Dread Wolf, what is that? Can I play with it? Can I touch it? Can I pull it apart? Oh, please!" she practically squealed, running to examine Teko. The robot, slightly confused, took a step back.
"I relinquish the fact that you'd want to take me apart," he stated, lowering the weapon in his robotic hand. "The only one that has authorization to do so is my female friend here."
Rayne smiled. "That's right. I'm the one that built him in the first place. And I must decline your invitation to stay as I have other pressing matters to attend to. Now, if you please, I'll be taking the box that sits on your desk."
Voices from the hallway interrupted Rayne's speech.
"Yo, Ryder, we have some visitors! And I think they wanna stay for dinner!" called out the woman that still stood in front of Teko. Almost as if she'd completely lost interest, the woman went back to the bench and began working on something smaller, leaving the box within reaching distance.
"Actually, I think I will stay for some food," Rayne announced, stashing her weapon in the hip holster. Teko looked at his friend and began to think of why she would have changed her mind.
"However, you're not authorized to touch my robotic friend at all. Capiche?"
"Yes ma'am!" Aethyra said, then began to laugh, rolling her eyes. "So, you built him?" She swiveled around and studied the woman, eyes shining curiously, "That is AMAZING. If I had the time and the coin, I would be right behind you. I meant no disrespect," she said, bowing her head to the metallic man, "it's just that you're quite an amazing piece, and I have a habit of being overly curious. My apologies."
"Lucas," she snapped, her eyes suddenly cold as she swiveled on her companion, "don't stand there like a rotting faji tree, show them to the kitchen, get the lady some brandy, make sure their stay is comfortable!" She turned back and tucked the box closer to her body, muttering in her elven language, obviously not going to be bothered any longer. She was working.
"Lucas," she snapped, her eyes suddenly cold as she swiveled on her companion, "don't stand there like a rotting faji tree, show them to the kitchen, get the lady some brandy, make sure their stay is comfortable!" She turned back and tucked the box closer to her body, muttering in her elven language, obviously not going to be bothered any longer. She was working.
Only Iris couldn't understand the look those two gave each other.
"Wait, what do you mean?" The elf asked as he was forcefully dragged away by the shoulder. Had he not been partly relieved that he was getting farther from that dirty, dirty bar and partly scared that he was unexpectedly dragged away by two men he might have said something about the touching. "The 'aforementioned city'? You mean Utopia? Is it Utopia? I bet it's Utopia." The clueless necromancer went on, probably attracting more attention to the bounty hunters that followed them, until he was finally pushed in a hole in the wall.
It took a while before Iris could finally put two and two together. The confining to this close space, one way in, one way out...They were mugging him!
The elf gulped and turned to his captors, putting on a half-decent smile, sweat rolling off his brow, nervousness turning his tongue dry.
"Y-you guys got me b-b-but I don't have any money. None! I mean, I have chalk, but its not even good chalk! N-nothing in this bag but my cat and she's all dusty-
Yet it took only a moment to realize they weren't even acknowledging him and were instead; paying attention to a group of nastier people coming through their only exit. It wasn't like the area was claustrophobic but it was definitely too small for the necromancer's comfort. The mechanical augmentations on the first two practically scared the elf, who shrank in their presence, as well as the three with guns. Not like they needed guns; considering they could do a more effective jobs using their fists.
The man who dragged him into this mess started to talk to the terrifying(er) group that blocked their only way out. Half-way through their little talk; Iris then realized they were actually talking about Utopia. Turning his head to the second, apparently ally, who seemed to give off a malevolent feel, like he was...excited for the events to come.
What madness have I gotten into? Suddenly, a deafening bullet pierced his ears, and steam filled into the room. The mage was dragged away into a small piece of cover; where he closed his eyes and covered his ears until he could hear no more gunshots. By the time he slid out of his little corner, fog obscured everything, but all the sounds could be heard. “Heh, sorry if you were hoping for more of a show.” The other one said, smacking the mage across his back in a way too joyous, like perhaps he was somewhere else and not here. "A show?" Iris managed to whisper back before a bone-chilling "crack" sounded from the steam as well as a few whimpers.
Paralyzed, Iris stood there as the steam cleared, the "muscle" of the two dragging the only survivor left from the onslaught and placing it in front of his "chief".
To be honest, the elf hadn't expected the hostage to speak either, mainly cause of the mocking way the leader of the group tried on him. Then the threatening. Although he quickly revised his word "she" to a "he" when talking about the mage himself, it didn't help Irie to ever so slightly twitch, and blankly stare at him while the lie about him being a psycho flew over his head. Of course, that didn't work either. The necromancer mentally debated whether or not he should offer his assistance in this matter. Draw a Circle of Binding around one of the many corpses, perform a Right of Rising, and explain the situation in a timely manner.
Though, as it turns out, they were entirely capable of coaxing the information themselves. Especially after what Irie could only hope was a lie about sexual offenses on male civilians. The hostage looked at the necromancer only confirm that Irie was just as shocked as he was. The mage took a step away from Archer. He spoke about ruins in Redvale, the heartland of elves, that there's something in there to get past the Great Abyss, a land no airship had ever gotten past before. After that, the group left the claustrophobic area through the hole, Iris following suit, trying to not step on any of the blood, bodies, or giblets that littered the floor.
The smile that he was given by the leader of the two was one too creepy to be friendly. The ultimatum the mage was given wasn't one he liked. Either join these most likely crazy people, who were also most likely pirates, or die. Just because he didn't like it didn't mean it wasn't easy to choose.
"Right, I'll join you, I guess?" The necromancer said with a smidgen of doubt in his voice. He pulled back the hood to reveal his face; still an embarrassingly feminine face and looked with dark brown eyes at the two who'd he call the leader and the muscle. "My name is Iris and I'm a-"
Barking suddenly cut off his words as the undead bulldog appeared beside him, sitting on his back legs, mouth and teeth colored with red. Rusty!" the necromancer said with a tinge of surprise; having nearly forgotten his new pet. The elf patted the large dog who's height reached his waist and turned to the new...friends(?) he had made. Although his acquaintances might have different...reactions to his animal friend; introductions were still fairly simple. "Rusty, People I don't know. People I don't know, Rusty." The bulldog bared his teeth and growled at the strangers. "Bad Rusty! These are allies. Friends. Somewhat, I think. No biting them." Irie chided before looking back at the leader specifically and back at his undead companion. "Unless they touch me. Then bite their face off." The necromancer said, petting the dog with two hands by his ears before awkwardly staring back at his other, living, companions. "I don't like being touched." He iterated for clarification; still unsure if that "sexual offenses on male civilians" thing is true or not.
The awkward silence was however broken as Iris turned his head around to a voice. Although he couldn't make out what in particular was said; he could tell that it was bad news. "Uh oh." left his lips as he spotted the elvish girl right before another word: "A witness." Iris turned to his companions and had very little faith that they wouldn't try to kill her just as brutally as the aggressors from earlier.
"Maybe now would be a good time to go to the docks, get to the ship, and head to Redvale. I do know ancient elvish so I guess that'll be helpful." He said, already taking steps to the opposite direction of their witness, mentally nudging forward his acquaintances to do the same.
"Wait, what do you mean?" The elf asked as he was forcefully dragged away by the shoulder. Had he not been partly relieved that he was getting farther from that dirty, dirty bar and partly scared that he was unexpectedly dragged away by two men he might have said something about the touching. "The 'aforementioned city'? You mean Utopia? Is it Utopia? I bet it's Utopia." The clueless necromancer went on, probably attracting more attention to the bounty hunters that followed them, until he was finally pushed in a hole in the wall.
It took a while before Iris could finally put two and two together. The confining to this close space, one way in, one way out...They were mugging him!
The elf gulped and turned to his captors, putting on a half-decent smile, sweat rolling off his brow, nervousness turning his tongue dry.
"Y-you guys got me b-b-but I don't have any money. None! I mean, I have chalk, but its not even good chalk! N-nothing in this bag but my cat and she's all dusty-
Yet it took only a moment to realize they weren't even acknowledging him and were instead; paying attention to a group of nastier people coming through their only exit. It wasn't like the area was claustrophobic but it was definitely too small for the necromancer's comfort. The mechanical augmentations on the first two practically scared the elf, who shrank in their presence, as well as the three with guns. Not like they needed guns; considering they could do a more effective jobs using their fists.
The man who dragged him into this mess started to talk to the terrifying(er) group that blocked their only way out. Half-way through their little talk; Iris then realized they were actually talking about Utopia. Turning his head to the second, apparently ally, who seemed to give off a malevolent feel, like he was...excited for the events to come.
What madness have I gotten into? Suddenly, a deafening bullet pierced his ears, and steam filled into the room. The mage was dragged away into a small piece of cover; where he closed his eyes and covered his ears until he could hear no more gunshots. By the time he slid out of his little corner, fog obscured everything, but all the sounds could be heard. “Heh, sorry if you were hoping for more of a show.” The other one said, smacking the mage across his back in a way too joyous, like perhaps he was somewhere else and not here. "A show?" Iris managed to whisper back before a bone-chilling "crack" sounded from the steam as well as a few whimpers.
Paralyzed, Iris stood there as the steam cleared, the "muscle" of the two dragging the only survivor left from the onslaught and placing it in front of his "chief".
To be honest, the elf hadn't expected the hostage to speak either, mainly cause of the mocking way the leader of the group tried on him. Then the threatening. Although he quickly revised his word "she" to a "he" when talking about the mage himself, it didn't help Irie to ever so slightly twitch, and blankly stare at him while the lie about him being a psycho flew over his head. Of course, that didn't work either. The necromancer mentally debated whether or not he should offer his assistance in this matter. Draw a Circle of Binding around one of the many corpses, perform a Right of Rising, and explain the situation in a timely manner.
Though, as it turns out, they were entirely capable of coaxing the information themselves. Especially after what Irie could only hope was a lie about sexual offenses on male civilians. The hostage looked at the necromancer only confirm that Irie was just as shocked as he was. The mage took a step away from Archer. He spoke about ruins in Redvale, the heartland of elves, that there's something in there to get past the Great Abyss, a land no airship had ever gotten past before. After that, the group left the claustrophobic area through the hole, Iris following suit, trying to not step on any of the blood, bodies, or giblets that littered the floor.
The smile that he was given by the leader of the two was one too creepy to be friendly. The ultimatum the mage was given wasn't one he liked. Either join these most likely crazy people, who were also most likely pirates, or die. Just because he didn't like it didn't mean it wasn't easy to choose.
"Right, I'll join you, I guess?" The necromancer said with a smidgen of doubt in his voice. He pulled back the hood to reveal his face; still an embarrassingly feminine face and looked with dark brown eyes at the two who'd he call the leader and the muscle. "My name is Iris and I'm a-"
Barking suddenly cut off his words as the undead bulldog appeared beside him, sitting on his back legs, mouth and teeth colored with red. Rusty!" the necromancer said with a tinge of surprise; having nearly forgotten his new pet. The elf patted the large dog who's height reached his waist and turned to the new...friends(?) he had made. Although his acquaintances might have different...reactions to his animal friend; introductions were still fairly simple. "Rusty, People I don't know. People I don't know, Rusty." The bulldog bared his teeth and growled at the strangers. "Bad Rusty! These are allies. Friends. Somewhat, I think. No biting them." Irie chided before looking back at the leader specifically and back at his undead companion. "Unless they touch me. Then bite their face off." The necromancer said, petting the dog with two hands by his ears before awkwardly staring back at his other, living, companions. "I don't like being touched." He iterated for clarification; still unsure if that "sexual offenses on male civilians" thing is true or not.
The awkward silence was however broken as Iris turned his head around to a voice. Although he couldn't make out what in particular was said; he could tell that it was bad news. "Uh oh." left his lips as he spotted the elvish girl right before another word: "A witness." Iris turned to his companions and had very little faith that they wouldn't try to kill her just as brutally as the aggressors from earlier.
"Maybe now would be a good time to go to the docks, get to the ship, and head to Redvale. I do know ancient elvish so I guess that'll be helpful." He said, already taking steps to the opposite direction of their witness, mentally nudging forward his acquaintances to do the same.
- 39 posts here • Page 1 of 2 • 1, 2
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View All » Add Character » 12 Characters to follow in this universe
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Iris Arae
"Really? You want to fight? ...Cause I really don't feel like fighting now."
Aria Melbourne
Small? You'll regret calling me that in several hundred years!
Archer Bishop
Everything kills you, either you are dying every day or living every day. I choose to live
Jericho Malone
"You wanna tango with Ironheart Malone? I got one thing to say to that.......good luck."
Aethyra
"Don't bother me while I'm working."
Ryder Thorne
Women are God's most magnificent creation, and we play with the gifts God has given us, no? ;)
Trending
Ryder Thorne
Women are God's most magnificent creation, and we play with the gifts God has given us, no? ;)
Aria Melbourne
Small? You'll regret calling me that in several hundred years!
Aethyra
"Don't bother me while I'm working."
Archer Bishop
Everything kills you, either you are dying every day or living every day. I choose to live
Jericho Malone
"You wanna tango with Ironheart Malone? I got one thing to say to that.......good luck."
Iris Arae
"Really? You want to fight? ...Cause I really don't feel like fighting now."
Most Followed
Archer Bishop
Everything kills you, either you are dying every day or living every day. I choose to live
Iris Arae
"Really? You want to fight? ...Cause I really don't feel like fighting now."
Aethyra
"Don't bother me while I'm working."
Aria Melbourne
Small? You'll regret calling me that in several hundred years!
Jericho Malone
"You wanna tango with Ironheart Malone? I got one thing to say to that.......good luck."
Ryder Thorne
Women are God's most magnificent creation, and we play with the gifts God has given us, no? ;)
Fullscreen Chat » Create Topic » The Fleet Foot Pirates: Out of Character
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The Fleet Foot Pirates
1, 2, 3, 4by PeachesNCreme on Wed Aug 01, 2012 9:37 pm
- 61 Replies
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- Last post by PeachesNCreme
on Sat Sep 01, 2012 6:10 pm
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The Fleet Foot Pirates
Most recent OOC posts in The Fleet Foot Pirates
Re: The Fleet Foot Pirates
Well, there aren't any spots right now ;___; In the immediate future there will be at least one. I would encourage you to submit a character, but I am not sure which spot will need filling. Once I know I will let you know which are available.
If you want to submit a skeleton, just to put it in, you can do that, but it'd probably be best to wait to join in until we at least get to the next chronicle. Just to keep things fluid.
If you want to submit a skeleton, just to put it in, you can do that, but it'd probably be best to wait to join in until we at least get to the next chronicle. Just to keep things fluid.
Re: The Fleet Foot Pirates
Hi I was wondering if I could submit a character for this roleplay if there are any positions open. Or if one becomes open in the future could you reserve it for me?
Re: The Fleet Foot Pirates
Alright, continuation posted.
I'd like to see how many people post after this. Guiyver and I talked, but due to real life conflicts he can't post right away. It is assumed Ryder is going to stay in the kitchen while this is going on. (Which makes sense being that he was cooking and it would be a shame if it caught on fire while unattended xD)
We will see who is still around and act accordingly.
Also, I think when I reach Redvale, if noone has any objections I will find a way to leave Aria there :P (since I conveniently made her history there) It's a hassle trying to juggle two characters when I would rather put all my efforts into one person's post.
I'd like to see how many people post after this. Guiyver and I talked, but due to real life conflicts he can't post right away. It is assumed Ryder is going to stay in the kitchen while this is going on. (Which makes sense being that he was cooking and it would be a shame if it caught on fire while unattended xD)
We will see who is still around and act accordingly.
Also, I think when I reach Redvale, if noone has any objections I will find a way to leave Aria there :P (since I conveniently made her history there) It's a hassle trying to juggle two characters when I would rather put all my efforts into one person's post.
Re: The Fleet Foot Pirates
I talked to Peaches and apparently we're waiting for two people to post. I told her to just post anyway. I'll text her and tell her to just go.
Re: The Fleet Foot Pirates
Woah, I fell behind in OOC chat.
-Sneaky, I was kind of relieved :P It got everyone back on board, no? Wink.
-I am excited to rp with you too Butterfly :D Not to be a conformist, but neat character. :P
-Iris is lawls. xD I love his mannerisms. Also Rusty in himself is entertaining enough.
Makky, hahaha.♥ I have nothing to say but I love you. I have had something similar happen to me once upon creating an RP. This site can be a real jerk from time to time.
After two posts of Aria's implied actions, I suppose I will post for her :P
I always just figured, hey you're probably tired of reading after Archer's massive posts, why add another character. ;)
-Sneaky, I was kind of relieved :P It got everyone back on board, no? Wink.
-I am excited to rp with you too Butterfly :D Not to be a conformist, but neat character. :P
-Iris is lawls. xD I love his mannerisms. Also Rusty in himself is entertaining enough.
Makky, hahaha.♥ I have nothing to say but I love you. I have had something similar happen to me once upon creating an RP. This site can be a real jerk from time to time.
After two posts of Aria's implied actions, I suppose I will post for her :P
I always just figured, hey you're probably tired of reading after Archer's massive posts, why add another character. ;)
Re: The Fleet Foot Pirates
I almost just cried.
I spent two hours working on my post to have the site freak out on me when I tried to post it. Thank god it went through because I was NOT going to write that all again. You guys would have gotten the tl:dr version and it would have sucked.
I spent two hours working on my post to have the site freak out on me when I tried to post it. Thank god it went through because I was NOT going to write that all again. You guys would have gotten the tl:dr version and it would have sucked.
Re: The Fleet Foot Pirates
Oh Butterfly, I adore Lady D. She is quite awesome-sauce.
Iris isn't making a good first impressionat all.
Iris isn't making a good first impressionat all.
Re: The Fleet Foot Pirates
Thank you for the acceptance!
I'm happy that you love my character Sneakyrio! Come and spend a lot of time with her! It would be really interesting to see how she interacts with the other crew members! I hope we all have fun!
I'm happy that you love my character Sneakyrio! Come and spend a lot of time with her! It would be really interesting to see how she interacts with the other crew members! I hope we all have fun!
Re: The Fleet Foot Pirates
Sorry I rushed a bit, I sort of just want to keep things moving.
Also, Butterfly, freaking love your character. I know Jericho is going to spend a lot of time with her, seeing as he has so many medical demands in order for his body to keep functioning.
Also, Butterfly, freaking love your character. I know Jericho is going to spend a lot of time with her, seeing as he has so many medical demands in order for his body to keep functioning.
Re: The Fleet Foot Pirates
Yes, Butterfly. :) That would be perfect.
Go ahead and submit a character.
Go ahead and submit a character.
Re: The Fleet Foot Pirates
Excuse me, I would just want to ask if the medic spot is still open? If it is, can I have that spot?
Re: The Fleet Foot Pirates
My Character can double as medic for now, since she knows the very basics of healing magic. For more serious injury, we'd need someone that actually knows what theyre doing x3
Re: The Fleet Foot Pirates
Okay, I will post tomorrow, sometime. I'm curious what Jericho has to think, so probably after Sneaky :P
We need a medic player since the one who was in that position just messaged me they didn't have time. xD So if someone wants to create a second player, they can have that position. But if no one wants to we can wait until someone hops in, since we are going to be at least back on the ship with my next post and they could probably join at RedVale.
Until then, try not to get hurt I guess! :P
(I'm just messing around.)
We need a medic player since the one who was in that position just messaged me they didn't have time. xD So if someone wants to create a second player, they can have that position. But if no one wants to we can wait until someone hops in, since we are going to be at least back on the ship with my next post and they could probably join at RedVale.
Until then, try not to get hurt I guess! :P
(I'm just messing around.)
Re: The Fleet Foot Pirates
I'm still here too! It looks like people are crawl'in back, which I'm happy about. I'd feel bad if it died so young and with my post being the last one. lol.
Re: The Fleet Foot Pirates
For the record I am still here, I was just waiting for Rayne to post. :) I'd hate to see this roleplay die so early. :P
Re: The Fleet Foot Pirates
We have a spot for a navigator for sure now, I am not totally sure if the medic spot is open, I will talk to spud and see if he is still up to it :3 But go ahead and submit a character if you'd like.
Update, the medic spot is taken still.
But the Navigator is for sure open.
We will see who is still in after I post today if you want to wait until then.
Update, the medic spot is taken still.
But the Navigator is for sure open.
We will see who is still in after I post today if you want to wait until then.