|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Tue May 26, 2009 3:00 pm
Submachina: Noli Manere in Memoria
A century ago the ancient gods representing water, fire, air, earth, light and darkness ruled over everything, completely unquestioned, gave almost infinite power over the elements to their devotees. All was peaceful and the world was in balance until one day the Exmachina Empire plotted a war to take over the world and establish their regime; but the power of the elementals was too great to challenge them.
Eventually, the Exmachina Empire developed a portal through which they could travel to the otherworld, where the gods resided, and managed to entrap them, restricting the power they could send to their disciples to almost nothing. It was then the Exmachina launched their attack --quickly crushing the weakened elementals beneath their now superior machines. They established an empire that spanned almost the entire earth, leaving only one small group of remote islands still clinging to the old ways.
100 years later and the planet is dying from the constant dumping of pollution into the waters and into the air by the massive industrious empire as it tears the world apart. The empire, still not satisfied with its almost total control of the planet, is planning one final attack to cement its dominance. Rumours are spreading of the empire's plans for a final campaign to wipe out the free kingdom. There is only one way for the modern elementals to fight back, and that is the resurrection of the old gods. But the modern elementals can no longer connect to the otherworld and have no choice but to head into the heart of the empire and steal the machine that the empire originally used to begin their campaign.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jun 17, 2009 8:42 pm
His tiny boat bobbed up and down in the waves as it slowly drifted towards land, The hideous spires of one of the Exmachina imperial cities jutting up into the sky some belching smoke out into a formerly clear sky. Warakai groaned feeling sick to the stomach as the foul stench of the water beneath him became more and more concentrated. Normally the young seafarer would avoid these cities but the loss of his sail and his oars put him at the mercy of the current and his dwindling supplies meant he was not really able to continue to drift for much longer he had no choice. His boat tapped against the artificial shoreline and he quickly climbed up sliding his halfsword through the back of his many knotted belt. He didn't even know where to start in an old kingdom town it was easy to find supplies. the market was easy to locate but here everything looked the same. The strange looking seafarer took a deep breath and moved toward the city pushing any fears of it out of his mind.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jun 17, 2009 9:10 pm
Leith let her fingers drag on the thick wall of water to her left as she balanced on her surf-board. She loved the feel of the spray on her shoulders, back, and face. It was like nothing else, feeling the strength of the water around her like that. She wanted to take it's power and use it, and she knew she could, but she was so weak in comparison. Her aunt had always told her to hide her ability or else it would end sourly for her, and Leith knew why. Only a few miles away, on the coast of the mainland, was the cursed city she hated to think about, but her aunt sometimes had work there and Leith would always join her because she hated the thought of her aunt being alone in such a dangerous place. She wanted to kick herself for ruining the moment when she remembered her responsibilities and that she needed to be home an hour ago.
Leith felt the water closing in around her and her board slipping out from beneath her feet and she just let it happen, let the water consume her. As she floated for a blissfully still moment she saw a shark dart pass her only feet away. The way the water embraced her was like no other feeling--she knew she just had to use it. This feeling always came to her when she came in contact with water and it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.
Leith broke through the surface and climed back intop of her board. She paddled back to shore and trudged up onto the sand where her few things lay. She towel-dried her long blonde hair, pulled her shorts on ever her swim-suit and touched the hilt of the knife on her belt. She tucked her board under her arm and gave a long stare at the ocean as the sun neared it. Her heart ached to touch the water again--to command it. But instead she tore her eyes from the scene before her and headed back home.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jun 17, 2009 9:40 pm
Within the darkness of the fume infested night, amongst the outskirts of the towns, along the shores of the sea, nothing was to behold besides that of the glimmer of 2 simple pocketwatches. The holder of the 2 watches watched as boats began to arrive to the docks. Lucien Almethyst solemnly closed the lids on the pocketwatches, and began his walk back towards the familiar and foreboding silence that is the city. Being a member of a family who was attuned to the darkness gave him no happiness. But he did not deny his heritage, and the dark just seemed to call to him. There weren't many who were attuned to the dark existed in the cities, primarily due to the unknown factors that laid within that affinity. But for now it seemed that those affiliated with the dark had a better chance of surviving in what was nothing more than darkness among machinery. He dusted off the soot from his darkening white and black gothic overcoat and proceeded onwards. His mind now turned to the day ahead of him.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jun 18, 2009 7:55 am
All was quiet. Alone Jessie sat in the light rain in one of the numerous dark, dank alleyways in one of the Empire's numerous cities. Laying her head back, she let the raindrops hit her face, finding simple pleasure in the sensation. Gathering her extremely lengthy hair in her lap, she thought about her past, as she often did. How did it come to be this way? Living all by herself? It all started with her parents, who had concieved her when they were only sixteen and seventeen, respectively. Being so young, they weren't mature enough to handle a child, so they unwillingly left Jessie at an orphanage, never to return. There Jessie spent the next eleven years, until the orphanage burnt down in a fire. It turns out one of the older orphans had smoking in the back, which wasn't allowed, and accidentally left the smoldering cigarette on the pine floor, which caught in flames instantly. Jessie almost didn't make it out of the fire, but thanks to one of the older kids, she did. That was the single most happiest day of her life. The orphanage, which to her symbolized everything about her life that she hated - the people, the horrible living conditions, the fact that her parents left her - she watched it burn with a gleam in her eye knowing she never would have to return. Ever since that day, seven years ago, she had been surviving on her own, and managing it. The only family she had left was the Empire, and to that end she has decided that she will faithfully serve them until her death. Instead of enlisting in the Empire's military force at sixteen, though, she bought a pair of handguns with money she had saved up. She decided she would serve the Empire as a lone wolf. And exactly what she's been doing. This was her life. Getting up, she walked through to the end of the alleyway, sloshing through puddles with no apparent discourse. When she reached the end, she went through a door that was well hidden and into a dilapidated building.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jun 19, 2009 1:02 pm
Mike scratched at his prickly stubble on his chin. He hadnt had a good shave in a couple of days, nonetheless a good wash. He sighed, tugging on his strap to his bag across his shoulder, then dug out some change from his pocket. Lucky for him, Mike had enough money this time to pay for his meal. Slapping it all down on the counter, with a few coins spinning on their edges, he left the small, greasy diner and went outside, the smokey, polluted air filling his lungs. It smelled sweet to Mike. He'd been in this same city for years, in the Empire's care.
Looking up, Mike's eyes found the familiar, towering smoke stacks. The sky above them was a thick, gray green color, like it was every day.
This was home. This was a painful reminder.
Mike wiped his nose on the sleeve of his jacket and headed south, towards the coast. There he would use the few hundreds of dollars he'd earned and get a boat ride somewhere.
He didn't want to leave, but he knew if he didn't, he'd be stuck here feeling sorry for himself.
He stopped. The coast would have to wait a few hours. Mike would never forgive himself if he left without saying goodbye. Not to his parents, but to his brother.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jun 19, 2009 2:19 pm
Warakai moved with purpose at a fast pace his trademark smile gone replaced by grim focus as he avoided eye contact with all those who stared at his intricate winding tattoos that made it very clear he was from one of the Sarrakonian fleet cities. But he made no effort to hide his heritage wearing a shirt that only covered the un-tattooed side of his torso his dredlocks and plaits held back by a bandanna to reveal the markings on his right cheek. Everywhere he saw guns in the hands of guards and soldiers those disgusting weapons that felled great warriors with no honor. Everything smelled bitter and sour almost like spoiled milk even the light rain that fell was dirty and fouled. He found the shop of a trader selling mostly junk but it was possible he could find the materials to repair his ship so he stepped inside.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jun 19, 2009 9:02 pm
As Lucien returned to the innards of the city he stopped by the markets to pick up a set of items required by his father. His father was an inventor, who kept his inventions a secret from the Exmachina empire. Although Machinery was frowned upon, these devices weren't beneficial to the empire so they weren't looked down upon by the public, In fact they were often ignored as they seemed like ordinary items used by everyday people. Lucien's pocketwatches were the same way, but they still had other things arranged in it... He decided to stop by the local pawn shop for some last equipment.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jun 20, 2009 2:38 pm
Mike, taking the shortest way possible, zig zagged his way through the labyrinth of large apartments, skyscrapers, and factories. The alleys were crammed with the dirty, the homeless, the druggies, or the tramps who did nothing all day. Mike avoided eye contact with most of them, especially the tramps and druggies. He'd had one too many run-ins with their kind the first time he ran away from home.
About half an hour later, Mike hiked up the hill that would lead to the town's cemetery. It used to have a street there, as large chunks of paved road were still there, with grass and weeds peeking out from the cracks, and roots grasping them with their thick fingers. Sometimes it was hard to climb, as it was quite steep and the roots were in the way. Mike cursed as he tripped over a few, and only once, having to break his fall with his hands.
The cemetery looked as it always had, ever since the war. Tombstones lay broken in pieces, homeless and the like lay about the plots trying to keep warm, or just to sleep the drunkenness away. Mike spat on a man with an empty bottle in his hand who was asleep on a plot.
The saliva ran down the man's dirty cheek. He hardly so much as twitched. Mike hated these people. Mike hated most people. Adults, anyway.
Mike came closer and closer to his brother's plot, and as he did so, memories shot through his mind like a cannon.
Sports, school, dinner, games, nights at home, lonely weekends, boot camp, the war...
Mike stopped, his sneaker centimeters from his brother's tombstone. Squatting low to the ground, Mike read his brother's tombstone for the umpteenth time. His rough, dirty fingers smoothed over the stone, scraping against the inlet letters.
Mike let out a heavy sigh, his heart ached ever so slightly. He lowered his head, his eyes fixed on the ground and the dead flowers around his feet.
Quietly, he whispered, "Goodbye."
Mike stood slowly, wiped his nose on his sleeve, and that was it; He wasn't tied to this place anymore. Mike was free to leave for good.
[[ Sorry that was so long Dx
Not posting anymore until the others go]]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jun 20, 2009 3:10 pm
Warakai walked through the shop finding a length of canvass that would do to patch the damage in his sail he didn't need oars there was a solid westerly that could get him to one of the Sarrakon Islands where his people resided this time of year. He paid for his purchase not making eye contact with the trader who like everyone else was to busy looking at his tattoos.
With his new materials under his arms Warakai left the building only wanting to get some food and return to his ship without incident. Normally in such a situation he would follow his nose to locate food but the mingling of so many offensive odors discouraged him to do so. For a moment his mind drifted to catching his own food but he dismissed that immediately sincerely doubting there was anything alive in the water around here even the Leviathan avoided the water around these cities. He clenched his knuckles as he saw numerous unscrupulous characters drifting through the city many drunk or on drugs he actually spotted somebody being mugged, but it was likely the money he had was stolen from somebody else anyway. Warakai continued on ignoring everything around him except the exact path he followed assembling a map in his mind so he could take the quickest route back to his boat when he was finished in this hellhole.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jun 21, 2009 9:38 pm
Jessie quickly stepped inside and closed the door behind her. She scanned the main room inside for immediate threats, but there were none in this room. Walking slowly, the room opened to a corridor, where there were two door on either side of the hallway. Jessie needed to make sure that there was no one here. She didn't want to be seen. Kicking in one of the doors, she rushed in, but there was nothing there. Exiting the left side room, she turned her attention to the other door on the right side. Without a second thought, she also kicked in this one, cracking the hinges. on the door. She took a step back in surprised shock as she saw a figure on the floor. Stepping back into the room, her initial shock subsiding, she looked at the figure. It was a man, dressed in shabby clothing, laying face down, with a bottle clutched in one of his hands. It was blatantly obvious that the man was a hobo who had gotten his hands on some alcohol and wanted to get out of the rain. Disgusted, Jessie took the passed-out man and dragged him out of the side room, through the main room, and out into the alleyway. There, she proceeded to lay the hobo face down in a puddle. She didn't feel like wasting any bullets today. Looming over him, she spat on him. "Serve the empire, or die." Turning on the spot, her cloak flashed behind her as she re-entered the building, locking the door behind her.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jun 23, 2009 6:01 pm
He exited the dank pawn shop from the market and accidentally bumped into another person, dropping his items. "crap." he thought and scrambled to retrieve the falling objects. He looked back at the person who seemed to be wearing a shirt that only covered half of his body revealing only a tattooed half. He didn't stare too long as he still had to make way to get the last of his items. Then he saw as the last of the objects was about to be crushed under another person's feet. Without knowing it, he accidentally tapped into his hidden ability and used the shadow to knock it towards him safely. He stood back up said his apologies and ran towards the next booth ahead of him.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jun 24, 2009 2:17 pm
Warakai saw the shadows shift and knock the wayward object from danger, a shadow elemental. Even in the Old kingdom their existence was rare this and filthy cityscape was the last place he expected to find another elemental at all. Warakai's curiosity got the better of him and he made the decision to follow this individual though he doubted his ability to be stealthy in his pursuit considering his appearance.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jun 24, 2009 4:42 pm
Lucien made his way around to and fro between the different booths picking up groceries and mechanical delights. The dank dusty air was getting to him and decided to leave before he became sick to his stomach. He looked around the dimly lighted scenery and noticed the same tattooed person still around. He thought it was strange for someone who looked like that to remain in a godforsakened land like this. He carried the items in an old paper bag and walked into the nearest dark alley.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jun 25, 2009 11:57 am
As Mike straightened his knees to stand, he felt two things he hadnt experienced in a long time. One was the warm breeze coming over the hill. Somehow the air wasnt as choked with pollution as Mike had thought, and the wind ran its fragile fingers down his neck, behind his ears. It felt good. There was still life in the sky.
Another thing he felt was homesickness. Not just the feeling he'd be leaving this city forever, but for the first time in months, he missed his family. His family before his brother died, before his parents stopped caring about each other and Mike... longing squeezed at his heart for a brief moment, and then a small buzz of anger bubbled between his eyebrows.
Mike turned around, facing away from his brother's grave, when a drunk stumbled over a neighboring tombstone. Mike payed no attention to him, until the bum vomited all over his brother's plot.
Mike would normally forgive or laugh at this sort of behavior. This wasnt one of those times. Mike was the one who would always upkeep his brother's grave when his parents didn't. Mike was the one who loved his brother the most. There was no way Mike would let this fool degrade his brother's tombstone.
Mike's hands warmed, then, in an instant, they were ablaze with fire. He could see the orange colors gleam off the glazed eyes of the man who stared at him, his jaw dropping to the ground. Mike, without thinking, jammed one of his arms into the man's gut, crumpling him like paper. However, instead of falling to the ground, the man discovered he himself was on fire, and panicked. Panicked was an understatement. In horror, the man ran around screaming, burning, dying.
Mike then realized what he'd done, and looked around. Loafers stared, terror showing through their dirty faces. The man eventually stopped screaming, burns and boils covering his face, his hands... His clothes were black. He was dead.
Mike ran.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
