Roleplay

[center][b]THE CITY OF AEGIS[/b][/center] [img]http://img02.deviantart.net/80c4/i/2012/314/f/4/steampunk_city_by_chentzu-d4ojxjk.jpg[/img] [font=Verdana][size=3] Aegis - A great city once built on the foundation of prosperity, fortune and affluence, buildings inspiring as high as its booming economy and technology exceeding far above the sky, blistering in a hopeful new wave. [b]Now[/b], Aegis is nothing more than a flicker of its former-self, a small buzzing light in contrast to the flaring sun the city used to be. Narrowed cobblestone streets now lay, cracked and chipped, in conjunction with it's restrictive alleyways, seemingly wringing the very life out of its citizens, whilst enveloped in a world of whirring noise of ticking, cracking and clacking, never ceasing for the moment as the city continues to thrive under its gritty conditions. Dark smoke stretches across the sky in large gushes of grey and black, smearing every inch of the pristine blue; the buildings huddle together, humid and hot, spurred only by the machines, perpetuated by a sheet of heat to cling tightly to every being that may walk the bustling streets. Technology, once thought to be a marvel of its time, a new inventive age and ushering in an era of stability, now found to be common knowledge and even dull; every piece of technology is steam-powered in some shape or form; electricity is supplemented in small gaps, the only real breakthrough in years. Factory jobs are plentiful, more so than any other type, couriers flutter about the skies in an array of colourful balloons, floating from one part of the city to another, trading items, mail and every other object one can think of. The city centre is bustling, market vendors and traders, setting up stalls, selling the exotic to the very mundane and necessity, fresh fruit, clothing and even technology itself. The taverns have made their own mark on the city, a new uprising in the last couple of years and a small demand in acholcol has arisen, attributed to the mood the city has taken, the grit has not only affected the city surface but it’s dwellers as hell, thirsting for the potency to numb them. However, one tradition persists within the evolving times, grand stories of old, retelling of great beings who could wield energy like no other, bringing forth extraordinary abilities thought to be impossible or unimaginable. They were more than just might, more than just strong – they were protectors, guardians and warriors, destined to fight a great evil sealed beneath the streets long ago; although such stories are nothing more than legends, stories to idly pass the time and perhaps to inspire the young youth to forge their own path into a shambled city. [center][b]- CHARACTERS -[/b][/center] [center]Jorda Bailey | Protagonist | Manipulates Vines/Enabled to live off the sun. [/center] [center]Soren | Protagonist | Levitation/Telekensis of sorts.[/center] . . @Juneberry [A quick mock up, I'll probably smooth out the details later, but for now, what do you think? Lemme know if you wanna add anything] [center][/center]

@TenaciousMuffin

The sunlight was crippled by an array of clouds in the distance, making the already troublesome road all the more annoying to navigate. Carrying a large, woven basket of assorted goods from the grocer, green eyes stared straight ahead, down the road at hand, waiting to reach the point she'd turn at to get home.

Jorda wasn't the most sociable by any means. She walked alone, her short stature making it easier for her to blend into the small crowd taking the same street she was to journey home. Her chestnut hair braided to her shoulders neatly, keeping it out of the basket of goods she was bringing home for her dinner. A clock tower's chime caught her attention, her usually emotionless lips turning into a small pout. "I'm already late," She mused with a sigh. "I was looking forward to finishing dinner before he got home..."

Boistering laughter in a nearby tavern just partially caught her attention. Taverns- a gathering place for drunks, and a place her father adored. He'd grown fond of staying out late to drink since her mother passed of disease, leaving her to many meals on her own. Though he'd claimed he'd be home early that night without dilly-dallying once his shift at the factory was done, she didn't buy it.

"Well, at least the food will taste good even if it's a little later than I wanted..." Trotting further, she continued on her path down that old, memorable road. "It's getting dark. I really should hurry on home."

@JuneBerry [img]http://pre08.deviantart.net/3ff7/th/pre/i/2013/161/f/5/anime_steampunk_by_kuronah-d68k52o.jpg[/img] [center]Name: Soren Age: 16 Gender: Male Power: Levitation of sorts; telekensis.[/center] The [i]whirring[/i]; the very noise itself was such a comfort, churning in small bubbles of noise, enveloping the area with various clacks and clangs, banged together in an quire of rattling clamour. Soren could easily lose himself against the singing symphony, burning so intently as he worked, fingers stretched and fingering the loose cog in the machine, puffing out small coughs of smoke. Menial and meek when rivalling its other counterparts, just barely whooshing above his head – the machines, if he could remember correctly, were instruments in melting certain coppers, metals and other substances, burning away in the oven situated to the right of Soren; an area he avoided with due diligence. The cog was busted, chipped and shrivelled with use; its edges slowly eroded as the machine worked, horribly blunt and making this little piece obsolete, at least in this case, thus, Soren popped the little cog into his workers bag, bashing up against his side, tilting when he hovered over the machine. Meticulous with an artist’s care, his blackened gloves popping yet another cog, a near-identical copy, replicated to the very design, but brazen with a flourish of bronze, his reflection bounced, much like the machine when the new little piece was allotted within. Now, the machine was more than proud to churn out monstrous guzzles of smoke, rapidly filling the area with a vigorous pace; he calculated this would last for a few weeks, before the machine would wear down its cogs once more – the case was more than a frequent occurrence. “Kid, how many times do I have to say this? I ain’t got time to keep callin’ you when something goes wrong; I pay damn good money for this, so give me damn good materials.” Soren breathed calmly, eyes twitching through his black goggles, smeared with tiny patches of steam but otherwise, his vision remained intact. “And I’ll say this every time you tell me this; you work your machines too quickly, too much, they’ll break.” He recited, doing his best to make sure his annoyance didn’t simmer; when you allowed nothing to rest, things would break, the basic’s really Soren thought with a small snort. “I’ll catch you another time Odin, I am late, I gotta get home, thanks for holding me up yet again.” He chipped, not bothering this time to mask any signs of annoyance, hopping away from the machine; taking one last look at the stubby man, hauled in grey overalls and similar goggles, dedicating to another task on the never-ending pile. Tiredness slunk into the old man eyes and dipped; one day that would be Soren, not doubt about it. He weaved around the pumping machines, slinking in and out of the dancing shadows, slender figure fluttering about and his black boots kicking up dust, grit and dirt, sticking to the floor like a second layering. He was so damn glad when he finally saw the entrance, darting through the crowded entrance, just seeing glimpses of trollies, filled to the every brim of items ready to be melted and assembled into new pieces. A familiar road came into view, his shoulders slowly relaxed underneath his white shirt, riddled with stains from the humid conditions, no longer terse or agitated. Huh, he saw another passer-by, female, he slowed, bristled for several moments and steadied his balance into a casual stride.[/img]

@TenaciousMuffin (You accidentally put your post twice basically in this. :P Also I like him already. :D)

She had barely noticed him- in fact, she hadn't at all, at first. Her eyes were so focused on her next turn, trying to make it home at her usual timing, that she didn't even notice just how close the man was in her stride. As her hide shoes continued to tap the ground at a constant pace, her shoulder brushed against something hard- causing her to stop, look in the direction of the stranger she'd bumped, and bow in an apologetic manner.

"I'm sorry." Her face didn't show it, but her voice was sincere. The way her hair dipped against a white cloth covering much of the produce in the basket showed just how deeply she bowed, as well. Standing straight with the cream cotton of her dress smoothing against her back, she looked at the stranger curiously. "I wasn't looking where I was going properly, it seems. I'm in a rush home to make dinner, you see."

A sound caught her attention from afar, but she couldn't quite make out what it was. It sounded like some sort of bang or pop- perhaps a nearby steam engine had malfunctioned? It wouldn't be the first time that happened on her walk home. The sound was slightly different though. Slightly...Disconcerting compared to the usual.

"Did you hear that strange noise too, sir?" Her eyes glanced to his face curiously, head still leaning quizzically against the shoulder she'd found it pillowed against. "I wonder if I imagined it..."

@Juneberry [Opps' That was likely down to 2am in the morning and trying to scramble down a reply. XD]

Soren stopped momentarily; body seizing upon instinct, limbs hovering by his sides, fingers skittering to the tool bag brushing up against his hip feverishly, swaying in the tenors of the calm wind and hastened stride.

The accidental ‘brush’ was subtle; enough to draw him out of his thoughts and thinking stupor, his mind was humming with various machinery plans, etched neatly across his subconscious, slotting in lines, pieces. One of his bad habits or quirks one might say, divulging into the world beyond his own mind, only to slip pass from the realm of reality for another.

“Uhm, hey, don’t worry about it, accidents happen, and not like you knocked me that hard.” He supplied softly, a little dazed, albeit from shaking the shambled thoughts of machinery plans and calculations; his attentiveness for social interactions was more than just a limited feat.

His eyes narrowed; Soren was acquainted, no more than just acquainted with sounds from what the city churned out and that sound, wasn’t something he heard before, or maybe he had, but it was different somehow, his ears prickled, unsure where to place the very sound in his hazy mind. “You’re not the only one miss, that sound ain’t one I’ve heard of before and I don’t like it.” He admitted, now fully engaging in his surroundings, his eyes snapped behind him; the road was bound to be shorter the way he came, back to the city.

“If there is anything I’ve learned, when something starts to go bang, you run, so I’d suggest we move.” He answered solemnly, a small part of him, his tinkerer side urged to investigate; inquire the very knowledge, scrutinize each piece until he understood and then improve, that’s the part of him that he’d allow thrive but in this very instance, that part of him was now smothered; the wariness and concerns flooding his senses rapidly.

“How far is it to your home miss?” He questioned once more, urgently this time, whilst fingers tugging at his white shirt, a nervous tactic, trying to assess the paths quickly.

@TenaciousMuffin [Hehe, it's fine! It was just really funny and made me need to poke you about it. Because for a moment it looked foreboding...Then I was like "wait I'm seeing double". Fun fact, I do that a lot anyway. Just...Usually not vertically.]

His question of the direction she was headed confused her further, but her eyes remained as blank as a slate of stone that had yet to be carved. "My home is two blocks down the road, then one block to the left. Not far." She listened as another bang caught her ears, a barely notable grimace taking her lips just slightly downwards.

"It sounds like it's coming from the same direction as my house. If it's true that it's best to run when you hear a bang, does that mean I should retreat from going home for now?"

She opted to focus on his nervous tics, such as his tugging at his shirt, his wary eyes, and the tone of his voice. Unlike her, he was much more admittant of his emotions based on his body language, showing his concerns much more clearly than her stoic face seemed able. Internally, she was jealous. But more than anything, despite the aloof gaze in her eyes, she was scared to go home with the sounds so close, yet so far and strange. "What direction were you headed, sir? Perhaps I could join you headed somewhere safer. I can make you a meal as well, if you'd like."

[Yeah; I don't normally make mistakes like that but when I am tired, all common sense goes out the window sooo quickly. XD Hmm; did you want a group to attack them now?]

“I was heading this way miss, going home like yourself.” Soren admitted; chewing his lip with a split second, an open canvas, his emotions were like strokes, colourful blinding strokes that were so obvious to any observer, even those not that well adverse within emotional reading. “Do you have anyone at home miss? Family? Friends? If there anyone is back, kinder thing would be to warn ‘em, correct?”

He glanced at the girl a little more closer this time, the bang searing in the background was so unpleasant, a rioting bang, roaring to life like a caged lion; begging to be released and foretold in volumes something was about to happen, the beginning of the cage being to crack. His concern for the young girl wasn’t all that surprising to the likes of Soren, wearing his emotions on his sleeve and his concern evident as the colour of his shirt.

He decided, she seemed young; younger than Soren himself currently, blank and emotionless, which was slightly disturbing if he was honest, most young people were a churn of various moods, thoughts and sentiment, a feverish dance of uncontrolled passion and spirit, unchecked variables in the making as they all adjusted into being a being.

The process of life, but she was blank as a slate, hard and unyielding to anything, as if her own emotions were useless in all matters. He blinked, realizing he perhaps was staring longer intended, coughing awkwardly, refocusing his lingering gaze on the shambled road ahead, creased and littered with rocks; the signs of the road being used continuously.

“I can provide back up of sorts; I am no fighter but I can throw a punch when needed, years of being worked into the ground does that you.” He quipped, humorously as to extend one arm as the sign of his validation. He also lacked to mention any of his own home, Soren was alone, thus, accompanying the girl was more than alright with him, but the banging wasn’t appeasing the tingle of shiver coursing through him.