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The OOC

Blackhelm City. A thriving port city, situated on the cliffy western shores of the nation of Palms. Airships can be seen floating in front of the setting suns, like tiny insects in the distance, coming and going, merchants, warships, pirates. The bars and pubs are filled, as are the inns and brothels, filled with travellers and visitors. The streets are crowded and lively, with performers trying to earn money on street corners, merchants peddling their wares, and urchins picking pockets. Being such a bustling city, it goes without saying the Blackhelm can certainly be a nasty place to live for those without high standings in the community. But for those with a ship, and those with a fighting instinct, Blackhelm is paradise.

High arches and thick columns made of white marble stand as the entrance to the Mihael Aerodrome, largest in all of Terra, laden with beautiful murals and stained-glass windows, hundreds of airships laying in wait, stocking up on supplies, or taking on passengers. Architecture laden with the influence of the Ancient Race was evident throughout the entire building, and people from all the countries of Terra were present, moving about their day, speaking in the quick chatter of the Shai language, and the slow drawl of Thainfolk.

The Hollow Wind lay at dock there too, a nimble Pyrewolf class airship, owned by one Professor Vincent Ambrosius Greychilde, III, world-renowned inventor and scientist. The door to the cabin swung open, and from it, came the very same Professor, accompanied by a rather dirty Lavistian Verne.

"So what're you telling me, Professor?" came the voice of Lavistian, surprisingly rough for such a young looking man. "That new fuel, what did you call it? Propeus? It burns brighter and cleaner than the kerosene lamps we have now?"

"Propane, Lavistian," answered the elder of the pair. "It has to be stored at high pressure though, to keep it in a liquid form until it is converted to a gas, where it is channelled into the mantle, where it burns much brighter than the kerosene lamps we had installed previously. Hence, I have a large tank of this new fuel below decks, and all the light fixtures have been replaced in the Hollow Wind."

Lavistian smiled. "I see why everyone calls you a genius, Vincent. Well, I best head to the Silver Cloud soon, it's nearly dark, and I plan on a few drinks before nightfall. Should I be looking for a crew, while I'm there?"

"If it suits you, Lavistian." Professor Greychilde waved his hands unexcitedly, as if to beckon that his friend could leave if he wished. Lavistian ran to the gang plank, executed a cartwheel down it, and bounced off happily juggling through the crowd, on his way to his favorite watering hole.

It was a good day.

(Don't worry about having massively large posts, the complexity of the dice and stats are the real reason that I posted this in Advanced. Aim for high end Casual lengths, at the least though, please)

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The city of Blackhelm was simply the best place on Terra to be. Billie thought as she chugged through the wide avenues on her veloci-trike. White smoke billowed behind her like a banner before dissipating into the wind. So exciting, she mused. Philosophers, inventors, mathemetists, astronomers, Captains, soldiers, the rich, people who could afford to pay her for her work. And she could work with some of the most inventive minds in the world! A grin split her grime-covered face. She’d travelled over land for weeks to get her and now? She’d clean up and find Dr Greychilde. He was her goal.

She’d sent dozens of telegrams to him asking for an appointment. She was certain he’d want to work with her. She had so many wonderful ideas and they’d work, she just knew they would! But, unfortunately, she’d received no response from him. Mind you…this had all happened just last week, but honestly! She simply couldn’t wait. She’d packed her plans and schematics and a few projects she was still tinkering with and set out to find Dr Greychild. Halfway through the first day, she was forced to return home and retrieve her clothes, pack some food and supplies and then set out once more. Honestly! She couldn’t be expected to remember everything!
Pulling up to a likely looking inn within the heart of Blackhelm, Billie chugged to a halt along the curbing and with a few flipped switches and a dialing down of the pressure valve, her brass, copper and rubber ‘steed’ hissed and whined as its engine cooled.

Pushing her brass-rimmed goggles up onto the top of her leather helmeted head, Billie took in the teaming crowds with bright enthusiasm. Sliding from the spring-mounted saddle of the trike, Billie untethered her plan-ladden saddlebags and slung them over her shoulder. The smell of roasting meat from a nearby restaurant reminded her that she was starving! She remained rooted to the spot momentarily trying to decide whether she should gain a room and bathe first or have a good hot meal.

“Oh honestly!” She muttered to herself in frustrated indecision.

__________________
"I don't get into trouble. I have adventures!"

RPs I'm in:
Hazard - Jinx
Searching for the New Horizon - T'ra

The Silver Cloud was busy tonight, busier then usual that was. Not that it ever was empty in here. Selleus had been waiting for his target to arrive, it had taken the best part of the week to find out all the other aliases used by this ‘Madam Eve’. And the sketch he had been given had proven less then valuable. Selleus’ current contractor was a toad of a man, no manners at all. Upper city gang lord or something. Selleus didn’t really concern himself with those things, as long as the pay the was good and job not half so immoral. Apparently Madam Eve had been a dancer to the gang lord and had run away with enough money to stay drunk for at least a month straight, to Selleus’ standards that was.

Bidding his time Selleus ordered another drink. The horrendous crowd made it nearly impossible to spot someone. Although blond hair was quite unusual around these parts, dyeing was an easy method to get around such landmarks. All Selleus needed was a glimpse, but he hadn’t caught one so far. Guess he had dressed up nicely for nothing then. Another drink was put on his tab as another glance revealed nothing new. The door swung open and he amongst others looked up, but instead of a woman a man entered. He looked like most of the commoners Selleus knew. Dressed in a leather coat and gloves missing fingertips. Turning back to his drink again he almost fell from his bar stool as a sudden light voice next to him startled him. “Pardon me, did i startle you?” A handsome dark haired woman asked him. “Umm… Not really, it was just so… Unexpected.” Still trying to recover himself. He gave a weak nervous smile which was returned by a merryful giggle. “I’m sorry, i must have lost my manners at your stunning beauty.” He said as he took her hand. “August Leoparch Saul the second at your service.” Selleus spoke with a higher air to himself before softly kissing the back of her hand. More giggling came as if to tease his performance. “They call me Madam Eve. And the pleasure is all mine.” Her voice like silk. “Then can i buy you a drink perhaps? As to celebrate this meeting of chance.” It started to feel as if the accent Selleus was using was wearing of somehow, but there was no way out of this now. Just a few more moments and he could just walk away and pick her up later.

“Truly a gentleman aren’t you? Selleus.” Eve suddenly said sharply like snake venom. The expression on his face told her enough to know what he was thinking. “You didn’t think no one would be starting to be suspicious when there is someone wandering around asking about you?” She raised an eyebrow. “Now, you better come with me and without a fuzz. I have other people keeping an eye on you if you try anything… Funny.” It a few moments for Selleus to get the dumbstruck expression from his face. “Can i at least finish my drink? I did pay for it after all.” To this the woman rolled her eyes and nodded. “You the funny thing about strong liquor is?” His tone a knowing question as he took up the glass and raised it closer to his lips. “ It’s quite nasty when you get it in your eyes.” With those words he threw the drink in Eve’s eyes. She fell from her bar stool her hands clutching her eyes as she hissed at the burning sensation in her eyes. A few man spread around the bar quickly stood up, quickly grabbing for weapons. Selleus had already made a quick glance around the drinking den when Eve had told him they were being watch. Keeping a low profile wasn’t their strong suit apparently. Kicking his stool over He landed hard on his left shoulder. Using his other foot to put of against the bar to propel himself towards the closest table. Keeping his chin to his chest and his arms over his head Selleus knocked down an unfortunate person who was just walking by. Tripping him in the process. is luck was against him as he just reached short of the table. Quickly as possible Selleus got to his feet to make the last few inches. People had already started to look shocked and terrified as the air had turned hostile pretty quick. A bottle landed against the edge of the table, exploding in a million pieces. Another man had gotten up an was coming straight for him. There were too many people around to loose a shot, in fear of hitting an unlucky bystander. Selleus was hoping to return here more often in the future, so it would be better to not make the owner too angry with him.

Figured i better stop here so i can give other people the chance to use this scene. Also, i could have gone on an write a whole chaper otherwise :P I couldn't help my self, i got bored at work today.

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You've seen the movies, but it's different when you're the one getting hit in the crossfire.
You know you should stop the bleeding, you just don't know how.

Lavistian hopped up to the door of the Silver Cloud, singing cheery Gaile folk songs, nearly colliding with a girl dismounting from a rather odd looking motorbike, which, if he were in less of a rush to be drunk, would have caught his interest for at least twenty minutes. It was growing darker, as the Mother Sun had already set fully and the Daughter Sun was barely peeking over the horizon, and Lavistian had a mission. If anyone expected intelligent conversation from him by the end of the night, they were sorely mistaken. His lanky, cloth-wrapped arm shot out to the side and snatched a decently sized purse from the pocket of a passing man, dressed richly, likely a banker or gang lord. Without stopping to check, he counted out the spoils of his catch.

173 Cuperia. That was more than enough to get drunk with. The goofy grin that often covered Lavistian's face grew wider. Pocketing his newfound cash, and revealing his wooden batons, he began to juggle once more as he burst through the door of the inn and saloon with a hearty "Lavi's back, my sweet!"

The grin on his face faltered to see that a rather angry barfight had started in the vicinity of a rough looking gunslinger, but he swiftly regained his composure and hopped over, singing even louder than before to be heard over the crowd. A rather pretty lady lay writhing on the floor, screaming and cursing. He recognized her, her name was Madam Eve, and she was in no way a friend of his. In fact, she had tricked him into buying drinks for her and her posse one day, making her almost his sworn enemy. Lavistian caught his batons in the air, and put all but two back into his coat, and began to swing wildly at the shoulders and necks of the men who were causing the ruckus, his song now started again, and louder than ever, but was not the same cheery song, it had shifted to a lullaby, strangely calm in the din of the bar, and seeming to take all the roughness from his voice, making him sound as though he were indeed only a young man.

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"God damned people in this god damned town." Raven said to himself as he pushed his way threw the crowded streets. He never liked people and being surrounded by them didn't make things better. Jed's voice popped into Raven's head, "You had better get this to the Silver Cloud in under an hour or it's gonna be the last run you ever make. Look for Madam Eve. Here's a picture of her."

As he approached the Silver Cloud he heard a woman scream and he thought Just another day in Blackhelm. As he walked in he saw what looked like 2 people taking on half the bar, one singing a random song while doin' it. He also noticed Madam Eve was right in the middle of it. He started walking towards her when one of the many men in the bar dodged the Singing Man's baton and jumped straight into Raven's path, nearly hitting him. "Hey! Watch where you're goin' buddy!" Raven said as he kicked the back of the man's leg, knocking him to his knees, and followed it up with a punch to the back of the head, knocking him out.

He stepped over the man, dodged a few of the fighters, and walked to Madam Eve. He tapped her on the shoulder and said, "I believe this is for you." He lifted the case and set it on the bar next to her. She didn't even notice him or the case, but Raven didn't care, he had given it to her and that was all that mattered.

Raven almost left, but as he got to the door he turned around. Looks like a good fight and I don't have anything better to do. Raven thought as he found a seat over in the corner.

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Dagnir en Gurtha = Bane of Death in the Language of the Elves

Me rambling on about me, also check the end of the post if you don't understand my name.
http://roleplayerguild.com/f4/quel-undome-21113/

The spoiler for my spoilers:



Text Kitten =^.^=


LOLCATS:

Seeing several people entering the Silver Cloud ahead of her convinced Billie that perhaps securing a room might be the more immediate need. Just as she made that decision, the curious sight of a brow bowler hat rolling from beneath the bat-wing doors of the inn greeted Billie. She watched it quizzically until it came to rest, crown side down right at her feet. “How curious.” She thought to herself. Just as she bent to retrieve the errant hat, a meaty smack of fist hitting flesh could be heard inside the doorway and a balding man lurched out onto the boardwalk. He careened off of a porch support and stood there wobbling with a glazed expression.

Billie noted his balding head and smiled brightly. “Oh! This must be yours.” She walked up and popped the derby onto the man’s head. Just as she did, the man wavered and seemed about to fall. “Tsk. Drunk at this time of the day. Honestly! It’s shameful.” She pointed him down the boardwalk with encouraging words, “Best go home and sleep it off. Things will look brighter in the morning. You’ll see.” Good deed done for the day, she turned back to enter the Silver Cloud. The din inside prevented her from hearing the balding man fall flat on his face, unconscious before he hit the boards of the sidewalk.

Billie stopped short just inside the entry stunned by the sight of a truly epic bar room brawl in full swing. “Oh, honestly!” She muttered, “I hope this doesn’t happen often here.” She looked about to locate an Inn keeper or manager that she might inquire about a room. She spied the singing man in the midst of the fray, swinging his juggling batons with great affect. One sensible soul merely sat on a stool watching the festivities and a man cowering behind the half door of the coat check room had the air of management. She hitched her saddle bags up on her shoulder and began to make her way toward the manager blithely stepping over sliding bodies, barely being missed by flying crockery and only being jostled once along her path. It seemed as though she was charmed.

Leaning over the half door, she shouted down at the little greasy-haired manager. “Excuse me! I’d like a room…” she paused. “Just one night, I think.”
The little man squeaked in fear at the sound of Billie’s voice and looked up at her flabbergasted. “What? Can’t you see we’re in the middle of ruination?”
“Nonsense. You have rooms, do you not? I wish to rent one, if you please.” Billie insisted calmly.

Desperate frustration motivated the manager more than anything and he reached up to snatch a key at random from the pigeon holes. “Here! Just go away before they see me!”

Billie beamed, “Well, that is very kind of you. Thank you very much.” Just as she turned away, two combatants wrestling with one another, sailed past Billie, flipped over the half door into the small office area right on top of the hapless manager.

__________________
"I don't get into trouble. I have adventures!"

RPs I'm in:
Hazard - Jinx
Searching for the New Horizon - T'ra

Half drunk, with five daggers, and twice as many syringes hidden under a dark pink dress, and deep gray jacket let hang about her elbows as she walked from her hotel room to a nearby bar; a great start to an evening. She smiled warmly as she spotted the bar, The Silver Cloud, the name had always struck her as somewhat ironic, although she had so far had amazing times in this particular bar. Guinevere adjusted her dress, and ruffled her hair slightly, she had a number of marks here, she knew they would be happy to buy her a drink or five at a shot to share a bed with the woman. A sadistic smile slithered across her face.

From her vantage point, she could hear a bar fight raging and … singing? Her brow furrowed, Guinevere entered the door to the old style bar, and looked at the curious sight. Well, looks like I’m not getting any drunker off other’s money tonight. Damn. She swore in her mind.

As if participating in some ritualistic dance, Gwen to-and-fro’d her way to the bar, swaying and dancing to avoid swings and thrown bottles. At her height, she was hardly a target, although had people known about her inability to fight, she may have been a bigger target. As she reached the bar, she saw possibly the most curious sight of all, other than the bartender cowering behind the bar as if to avoid confrontation, the man singing, his voice oddly calming, well, his voice, and the bottle of spirits she stole from behind the bar. The bartender popping up to raise his voice against her theft, only to duck as a bottle shattered on the wall behind him. Guinevere couldn’t help but laugh.

“Singing at a bar fight?” She turned her attention to the man singing. A fair bit smaller than Gwen, he wasn’t altogether unattractive, green eyes, dark hair, and a soothing voice, although his common sense seemed to be lacking. “Children.” She spoke in a mock-condescending tone. She immediately let out a laugh, oddly high and musical for her size, although her speaking seemed to mirror that; harsh, and graveled from years of drinking too much, but still vaguely feminine.

Her laugh was only cut short by a man falling, and hitting her bare foot with his large, oily head. Guinevere made a disgusted noise, and pulled her foot away, only to push the man’s body away at the shoulder with her foot. As if to counteract the man’s oily hair resting on her foot for a brief moment, she took a deep, long swig from the now empty bottle of semi-clear liquid. “Oh c’mon.” She pleaded. She slammed the empty bottle on the bar, and turned her attention back to the singing man, only to catch the end of his performance, the second half of which seemed to have more gusto, She applauded his performance half-heartedly, “Nicely done, but I’m sure you could have found a better audience.” Another laugh followed.

Adrenaline shot through his body and his heart sang loudly, even as his Alcohol drowned brained tried to evade the next blow. His clothing half ripped and torn by previous blows and sharp edged broken glass. Somehow Selleus managed to find an opening in his opponents defenses. It was probably more luck then skill at this point. Having the man’s head pinned between his pit and arm. He spun around as something caught his attention in the corner of his eyes. Somehow a single glass pitcher with beer had survived most of the brawl. Dragging the other man with him Selleus took hold of the pitcher and raised it to his lips. Beer splattered across his outfit and the still struggling man in his firm grip. But none of it’s golden content touched his lips. Puzzled Selleus raised the pitcher again to inspect what had happened. Only to find out something had smashed the lower half.

The puff of smoke clung in the air for a few moments. The shooter used the cover to move away from her last position. Madam Eve cursed herself as she clumsily reloaded the black powder weapon. Had that idiot not grabbed that pitcher he would’ve been dead by now. She had been so caught up she didn’t pay attention to the noise around her. Even as the scream of a flying man came closer like a roaring cannonball. The table she was sheltering behind splintered in a million fragments. Like a puzzle that didn’t want to be put back together. Madam Eve got pinned by what was left of the table and the man who caused it’s destruction. Her back hurt and half a dozen cuts and bruises covered her once handsome features.

For a brief moment the fighting stopped and everyone looked at Selleus. He returned most of their stares with a blank face with a slightly still aggressive look. “Alright then! Let’s start cleaning up, it’s been enough for now.” His voice course as his throat screamed for another drink. “I’ll give a round to anyone who helps me clear up this mess. Another for the one that holds that woman down.” He spoke as he pointed to Madam Eve. Chorus, the crime lord, was going to have to pay him double now. How else was Selleus going to pay for the collateral damage? Right now he better got himself started with making the place habitable again.

__________________

You've seen the movies, but it's different when you're the one getting hit in the crossfire.
You know you should stop the bleeding, you just don't know how.

Lavistian swung his baton in a wide arc at the head of a fat, rude smelling man, knocking him out in a single blow. Two rat-featured men rushed him at the same time, and he lept backwards onto the bar, executing a spin kick into both their faces, sending them hurtling backwards. There were fewer and fewer drunks trying to "get in on the action" of the fight, and the man he had seen earlier was finishing the fight even as he knocked the last of the men out.

"That was some damnably good fighting," said Lavistian, his voice rough and deep once again. "Don't worry about the damages, I'll cover them. The bar's owner, Mildred, is an old aquaintance of mine." He scanned the room, his eyes looking to see who was still standing after the massive brawl. The gunslinger was standing, as well as a tall, rough looking man sitting in back, presumably watching the show. The woman with the odd motorbike seemed to be spacily looking about, assumed to be trying to find where the room the key she had clutched in her hand was, and a rather unhappy looking woman in a pink dress with a grey jacket looked idly about for an unshattered handle of liquor.

Lavistian strode up to the bar, leaned over it to the point that he was nearly upside down, rummaged about underneath, and came back up with a gallon jug filled with spiced rum. Beckoning kindly to the remaining conscious inhabitants of the bar, he poured out several glasses of the alcohol. He then took the bottle and took three hearty gulps out of it, sighed deeply, and then began an obviously well-rehearsed monologue.

"Riches. Power. Fame." He began. "The things that man wishes for most. But what is more desired than those simple greeds? What singular thing does man wish for more than any other thing in the known Terra?" He paused to make a flourishing hand motion. "Everlasting life." At this, Lavistian's smile widened even further.

"I am a close personal friend of one Professor Vincent Ambrosius Greychilde, III, and his lead expert on navigations and crew employment. My name is Lavistian Greenwald Verne. You all seem to have the mettle that would be expected of a prime-rate airship crew. It is my pleasure to offer you all a job." Lavistian pulled out the hefty purse and emptied the contents onto the bar, smiling. Sure, he understood that it was not his money, but he decided to overlook that fact in order to entice his newfound prospectives.

"Who wants to live forever?"

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Raven watched as the bar fight went on and first a rather weird looking woman with goggles on her head entered, made her way to the other side of the bar and got a room key from the owner, then, as if that wasn't weird enough, another woman, this one with pink hair, walked up to the bar and stole a drink from under the bar. "Apparently my lucks pretty good tonight, a good bar fight, followed by a pair of hot chicks in the same bar." He muttered as some some gun-toting guy in the middle of the fight called it to a stop.

He saw the singing man start pooring drinks and heard his speech. The drinks didn't interest him, he'd seen it's effects too many times to ever want that stuff, but the promise of everlasting life? and a steady job? Raven was all for that. He jumped out of his chair and pushed back his hat and started walking towards the bar. "I'm in!" he said, then he looked over at the chick with the weird goggles, "Especially if I get to travel with such fine companions. What might your name be miss?" He quickly turned back around to the pink-haired woman, "And, how about you? What can I call you?"

__________________


Dagnir en Gurtha = Bane of Death in the Language of the Elves

Me rambling on about me, also check the end of the post if you don't understand my name.
http://roleplayerguild.com/f4/quel-undome-21113/

The spoiler for my spoilers:



Text Kitten =^.^=


LOLCATS: