Vodius
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MegaraFoxfire
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Feel free to criticize btw. I would be thrilled if you help make me a better writer by critiquing my work with you!
Kendrick growled as he leveled the royal scepter at a cluster of rocks, willing the ancient artifact from the last great age to life. A bolt of electricity arced between the hard edges on its head before firing, blasting the obstacle out of his path. He'd been tracking the little beast for what seemed like ages, but his research, his spies, his tutors had finally led him to the beast's lair. And when he'd arrived? He found the entrance to the inner chambers, though it was little more than a collapsed pile of rubble in an archway. There was a hole in it, small enough for him to crawl through, as though he'd soil his royal garments on his hands and knees like a peasant. The young monarch-to-be figured the dragon inside has cloistered itself off to sleep through this decade and the next, but that just wasn't going to work with his timetable...
He gave the carved stone a moment to settle, finding the dragon would do no good if he got himself splattered by loose stones from his excavations, before stepping into the dark, the points of the royal scepter humming as they charged enough to glow soft blue in the stifling darkness. The first thing he noticed was the smell. Book and scholars warned him that the stench of a mighty red would be overpowering. Ash and smoke, fresh and old, from the refuse of the dragon's meals should be filling the air. But this cave was mostly breathable. There was but a hint of smoke, little more than a campsite's fire would have put off if left for the night. He furrowed his brow curiously, but pressed on into the inner chambers, letting his scepter lead the way.
The drip drop of water from some unseen source echoed in the hollow, which also struck him as odd. The body of an old red should have turned any nearby trickles of water to steam ages ago, and yet here was evidence to the contrary. Had he entered the wrong lair? Was this some other beast? His knuckles turned white as he gripped the scepter more firmly, trying to sharpen his senses and figure out what he was really up against. Something smaller. Something colder. He saw the scratches of claws along the uneven floors of the place; something made its home here.
He hadn't thought to enter stealthily, the sound of his hard-soled leather boots click-clacking with each step, announcing his presence to the lair's inhabitant, if the scepter's glow hadn't given away his position well enough.
He gave the carved stone a moment to settle, finding the dragon would do no good if he got himself splattered by loose stones from his excavations, before stepping into the dark, the points of the royal scepter humming as they charged enough to glow soft blue in the stifling darkness. The first thing he noticed was the smell. Book and scholars warned him that the stench of a mighty red would be overpowering. Ash and smoke, fresh and old, from the refuse of the dragon's meals should be filling the air. But this cave was mostly breathable. There was but a hint of smoke, little more than a campsite's fire would have put off if left for the night. He furrowed his brow curiously, but pressed on into the inner chambers, letting his scepter lead the way.
The drip drop of water from some unseen source echoed in the hollow, which also struck him as odd. The body of an old red should have turned any nearby trickles of water to steam ages ago, and yet here was evidence to the contrary. Had he entered the wrong lair? Was this some other beast? His knuckles turned white as he gripped the scepter more firmly, trying to sharpen his senses and figure out what he was really up against. Something smaller. Something colder. He saw the scratches of claws along the uneven floors of the place; something made its home here.
He hadn't thought to enter stealthily, the sound of his hard-soled leather boots click-clacking with each step, announcing his presence to the lair's inhabitant, if the scepter's glow hadn't given away his position well enough.
Name : Prince Kendrick Burson
Age : 27
Race: Human, of the western kingdoms
Personality : Kendrick is an adventurous young lad fast approaching the age when the fires of his youth should have been tempered by the wisdom of adulthood. Unfortunately, his penchant for cruelty and pettiness often get in the way of what should be a sense of duty, justice, and honor. He's bold, he's brash, he leaps before he looks, and may the gods help you if you try and steer him off of his chosen path. The man is possessive and materialistic, often selfish and detached from the common folk, or even the other members of his royal line, and yet... He has a sense of curiosity, is quick to think on his feet (probably from years of recovering from his aforementioned, impatient leaps), and an unusual (for his family) sense of loyalty to the few that he can actually bring himself to care about.
History : Born from the best stock the Burson consorts had to offer the king, Kendrick was raised to rule. Cloistered in study with only his tutors for company until he was a teenager, he grew up a bright, but socially inept young man. When given the privilege to leave the palace grounds, he often took advantage of it and bullied the commoners with his power and wealth. His apple didn't fall far from his father's tree, and rumors of unrest made their way around the populace. In response, the young prince made it his mission to find the most powerful weapon that man could wield against another man: a dragon. Armed with the royal scepter, he makes his way into the world to find one...
Picture :
Power : Force of personality, Royal Scepter (lightning based offense and elemental defense)
Age : 27
Race: Human, of the western kingdoms
Personality : Kendrick is an adventurous young lad fast approaching the age when the fires of his youth should have been tempered by the wisdom of adulthood. Unfortunately, his penchant for cruelty and pettiness often get in the way of what should be a sense of duty, justice, and honor. He's bold, he's brash, he leaps before he looks, and may the gods help you if you try and steer him off of his chosen path. The man is possessive and materialistic, often selfish and detached from the common folk, or even the other members of his royal line, and yet... He has a sense of curiosity, is quick to think on his feet (probably from years of recovering from his aforementioned, impatient leaps), and an unusual (for his family) sense of loyalty to the few that he can actually bring himself to care about.
History : Born from the best stock the Burson consorts had to offer the king, Kendrick was raised to rule. Cloistered in study with only his tutors for company until he was a teenager, he grew up a bright, but socially inept young man. When given the privilege to leave the palace grounds, he often took advantage of it and bullied the commoners with his power and wealth. His apple didn't fall far from his father's tree, and rumors of unrest made their way around the populace. In response, the young prince made it his mission to find the most powerful weapon that man could wield against another man: a dragon. Armed with the royal scepter, he makes his way into the world to find one...
Picture :
Power : Force of personality, Royal Scepter (lightning based offense and elemental defense)
"What I can gain?" he asked, letting the question bounce around in his head for a moment as he cocked it to the side curiously. He hadn't really thought about it in such terms. "What I can gain..." he mumbled to himself, an almost inaudible whisper, followed by a long pause and then a shrug. "Freedom," he started with a smile, "A home in the sky, on top of the very clouds that have been floating over our heads since time immemorial." His hands curled slightly, a sign of contentedness at the thought of it, "A place to work on what I want to work on. To build and repair and revise to my heart's content and my imagination's limit without having some rozzers over my shoulder trying to fan my dunnage every time I get a new idea."
He took a deep breath, trying to settle the smile that somehow took command of his lips. "But that's not really what an employer should be asking her employees, is it?" Sebastian shoved a hand into his bag and drew one of the disruptor pistols from within with a sigh, pointing it towards the ceiling as he raised it to eye level and using his free hand to twist one of several knobs that lined its left side. The three tubes on the device, one larger, two smaller, crackled as a bolt of lavender light arced from within, painting the man's face and hair with the odd tint. He pointed it at his hand and pulled the trigger, a beam of the same color charging and releasing before sinking into his skin harmlessly. His eyes went to the officers' to make sure they understood his demonstration: he wasn't going to hurt anyone with the disruptor on this setting. He leveled it at Avery's shoulder calmly, "May I?"
He took a deep breath, trying to settle the smile that somehow took command of his lips. "But that's not really what an employer should be asking her employees, is it?" Sebastian shoved a hand into his bag and drew one of the disruptor pistols from within with a sigh, pointing it towards the ceiling as he raised it to eye level and using his free hand to twist one of several knobs that lined its left side. The three tubes on the device, one larger, two smaller, crackled as a bolt of lavender light arced from within, painting the man's face and hair with the odd tint. He pointed it at his hand and pulled the trigger, a beam of the same color charging and releasing before sinking into his skin harmlessly. His eyes went to the officers' to make sure they understood his demonstration: he wasn't going to hurt anyone with the disruptor on this setting. He leveled it at Avery's shoulder calmly, "May I?"
Sebastian's brow rose sharply as Dante introduced him to the captain, he had expected her father to be waiting in the captain's chambers to greet him. "Ah, yes. I have heard a smattering of what to expect..." He cleared his throat and stepped forward into the light from the gas lamps, pulling his hat to his chest and offering Avery a slight bow, though deep enough for the tip of his striped scarf to sweep the floor at his feet. "At your service, Captain." His eyes ran over the shelves and tables of the room, trying to get a feel for the woman, since he had honestly not heard much about her. He awaited her questions, about him, about his skills, knowing that the ship's exploits were too grand to allow any gear monkey walk on without a proper interview.
Sebastian subconsciously brought his hand to his belly, giving it a subtle scratch as he raised his brows and tipped his head to the side acquiescently, "We've all got to eat, right?" He smirked, mostly to himself, as he pressed onward, presumably towards the captain. "My mentor spoke of Captain Coppershade fondly, and frankly, it was either this or sign up to be some lapdog for the military." The young man rolled his eyes at the thought, "And how boring would it be to never see your inventions at work? Or being told what to make, ignoring where your mind really wants to go?"
He cleared his throat and gave his longcoat another tug, bringing himself away from his daydream and back to the present, "Anyhow, how has the captain been fairing lately? All well with him?"
He cleared his throat and gave his longcoat another tug, bringing himself away from his daydream and back to the present, "Anyhow, how has the captain been fairing lately? All well with him?"
Niles immediately settled at the appearance of the captain's pet and the first mate, the pistons in his powered gauntlet letting out a brief hiss before falling still. Habit dictated he tipped his head forward towards the officer, The men behind him fell into some sort of order, moving into loose ranks and silencing their chuckles.
Sebastian crawled out from under the mechanical spider, scooped his tools, parts, and pieces back into his bag, plucked his hat (and farsight goggles) from the floor and followed behind Dante, "I should really be the one to apologize, I was just a bit concerned that I'd miss the opportunity." He cleared his throat and extended his gloved hand out, "Sebastian Benzie, pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Sebastian crawled out from under the mechanical spider, scooped his tools, parts, and pieces back into his bag, plucked his hat (and farsight goggles) from the floor and followed behind Dante, "I should really be the one to apologize, I was just a bit concerned that I'd miss the opportunity." He cleared his throat and extended his gloved hand out, "Sebastian Benzie, pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Perhaps, but I think it makes you smile when I say it :)
You make new masterpieces, I'll just ride your coattails :p
As usual.
As usual.
The floor rumbled under Sebastian as he scooted himself backwards against a wall, "Ah... Looks like we're underway already..."
A burly looking fellow with a scruffy, but shaped, beard curled his lip into a cruel smile as small pistons in his powered gauntlet hissed and tapped rhythmically. Glancing out the still open porthole, he shrugged, "Don't mean ya can't go out th' way you came in, boy..." Chuckles murmured behind the man from the handful of other crewmen behind him.
"W-wait, wait just a moment! It's not what you thin-"
"Not what I think? I don't think that you know what I'm thinking," he drew his long, curved blade from its scabbard, the serrated edge near the hilt churning to life, buzzing as brass gears spun and whirred with the motion.
"Miles Trimble! Professor Miles Trimble sent me!" Sebastian stammered, his heels pressing into the deck, trying to get away further though the wall at his back didn't seem interested in allowing him to do so. "He said 'third dock, the Glory,' and to speak with Captain Coppershade!"
The lenses on the crewman's goggles spun slowly, obviously trying to focus on some of Sebastian's trappings and discern fact from fiction about the intruder's identity. The bearded man ran his tongue over his teeth, "And why would Captain Coppershade be interested in th' likes of you, exactly?"
Sebastian's eyebrows rose excitedly, "I'm glad you asked!" he said with a gulp of nervous spit as he jerked his bag up and off his head, sliding it towards his questioner. "I-I'm a man of many talents you see, engineering, obviously." The crewman kicked over Sebastian's bag as the stuttering stowaway waved him on nervously. Parts and pieces from a dozen half-cocked devices clattered onto the floor, along with the arkencutters, a feromonic field detector, a pair of handheld disruptors (which were thankfully not primed to fire as they hit the floor), and several rolls of wire (brass, titanium, and copper, for variety), as well as a travel-sized set of wrenches, ratchets, pliers, and a single hand mallet that thudded more heavily than the size of the thing would suggest it should have. "Uh, avionics, aeroarchiteture, anachropology and anachroarcheology-"
"What?" the crewman growled, kicking the pile of parts across the floor with a crash. "Toss 'im back out the port, boys," he barked to the others behind him, eliciting another round of chuckles as the crew approached Sebastian menacingly.
"WaitwaitWAIT!" the young man shouted, raising his voice and inadvertently alerting Arachnid to his presence with his unfamiliar voice.
A burly looking fellow with a scruffy, but shaped, beard curled his lip into a cruel smile as small pistons in his powered gauntlet hissed and tapped rhythmically. Glancing out the still open porthole, he shrugged, "Don't mean ya can't go out th' way you came in, boy..." Chuckles murmured behind the man from the handful of other crewmen behind him.
"W-wait, wait just a moment! It's not what you thin-"
"Not what I think? I don't think that you know what I'm thinking," he drew his long, curved blade from its scabbard, the serrated edge near the hilt churning to life, buzzing as brass gears spun and whirred with the motion.
"Miles Trimble! Professor Miles Trimble sent me!" Sebastian stammered, his heels pressing into the deck, trying to get away further though the wall at his back didn't seem interested in allowing him to do so. "He said 'third dock, the Glory,' and to speak with Captain Coppershade!"
The lenses on the crewman's goggles spun slowly, obviously trying to focus on some of Sebastian's trappings and discern fact from fiction about the intruder's identity. The bearded man ran his tongue over his teeth, "And why would Captain Coppershade be interested in th' likes of you, exactly?"
Sebastian's eyebrows rose excitedly, "I'm glad you asked!" he said with a gulp of nervous spit as he jerked his bag up and off his head, sliding it towards his questioner. "I-I'm a man of many talents you see, engineering, obviously." The crewman kicked over Sebastian's bag as the stuttering stowaway waved him on nervously. Parts and pieces from a dozen half-cocked devices clattered onto the floor, along with the arkencutters, a feromonic field detector, a pair of handheld disruptors (which were thankfully not primed to fire as they hit the floor), and several rolls of wire (brass, titanium, and copper, for variety), as well as a travel-sized set of wrenches, ratchets, pliers, and a single hand mallet that thudded more heavily than the size of the thing would suggest it should have. "Uh, avionics, aeroarchiteture, anachropology and anachroarcheology-"
"What?" the crewman growled, kicking the pile of parts across the floor with a crash. "Toss 'im back out the port, boys," he barked to the others behind him, eliciting another round of chuckles as the crew approached Sebastian menacingly.
"WaitwaitWAIT!" the young man shouted, raising his voice and inadvertently alerting Arachnid to his presence with his unfamiliar voice.
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