Post by Rogerette on Dec 8, 2007 21:27:36 GMT -5
About this Site:
Ok, so this site is set for a limited number of players so far. It will be a close-knit RPG in a steampunk setting, and the players for the main story arc have already been selected.
It should be noted that if a number of other players express interest in joining to RP in the setting created, I can extend the site to encompass an unlimited number of members who may interact freely, but the main story arc will remain closed right to its completion.
Hi, I'm Rogerette a.k.a the GM (Game-Master). PM me if you have any questions.
Introduction to the main plot:
Stahl’s boots clanked against the rivet plate, the bare metal providing little contrast to the dull steel surroundings that made up the chassis of the zeppelin. He whistled to himself, and the lilting tune rose cheerily above the dull humming of the engines. Plated leather gloves swung a baton between fingers with an easy familiarity, and Stahl took the opportunity as he passed by a steam vent to check his stern appearance, slightly distorted on the curved plate metal.
Stahl had always been appealing, never good-looking, but his face bore an earnest look that instantly dissolved mistrust. Dark, honest eyes flickered over the reflection. The peaked beret with its stern insignia even stretched his description to handsome, and the ladies did love a man in uniform. Pausing briefly to straighten his collar, he resumed the slow, deliberate march along the platform.
The cells below the platform on either side were roofed with thick plated armour-glass, and Stahl took care to look through into each as he passed, practice allowing him to do so without stopping. Mostly, the inhabitants in their dull grey fatigues were asleep, curled up on meager mattresses. A few were reading, awakened by dawn’s light, or perhaps they simply hadn’t slept. Mentally he checked them off. He knew them all by face and most of them by name save the very newest inmates. He tried not to know any of them by crime.
A clank from somewhere above Stahl caused him to stall, peering up into the dim rafters of the massive craft. The sun was not yet high enough through the clouds to illuminate the top of the HMS Aurelia. Stahl felt a slight shiver run down his spine in spite of himself, but, seeing nothing, dismissed the sound as erroneous engine noise to report to the technicians on completion of his rounds.
Stahl looked down beneath him, noting the reptilian known as ‘Shiskan’ in the cell to his right who was slowly pacing across his cell, and the Arab on his left who was quietly asleep. Both of them were killers, but neither of them had actually killed anyone. Whatever it was that had put them here made them infinitely more dangerous than some ordinary murderer.
He picked up the pace again, twirling his baton in a business-as-usual manner, and occupying the rest of his thoughts with their scheduled arrival on the Talon in less than a half hour. The air dock floated in stasis somewhere over the Atlantic, a military refueling station. It was no social occasion, but Stahl looked forward to seeing faces he hadn’t had to look at each day for the past months. More than that, the Talon had a small smoking section, and he looked forward immensely to his one-cigarette allowance. The zeppelin’s environment ensured that his smoking habit went on hold. Fire was, obviously, a fear for all on board. Even a quick puff wasn’t worth the consequences.
He paused again above the cell of one of the older prisoners, one who still scared him to this day. Most of the criminals in here, despite being the most dangerous of their kind, had managed to develop a civilised relationship with the staff. Even those with limited English, different races, different cultures, different species, had accepted the fact that they were here ‘for the long term’, and might as well try to make the best of it. Chances of escape from high-security onboard a constantly moving armoured prison zeppelin were slim, and combined with its highly secret location, minute to nigh impossible. There wasn’t much point in being hostile towards your captors.
But the feline in the cell below never said a word. Even now, the humanoid panther simply stared silently through Stahl’s skull. He bared his teeth at the animal to show he wasn’t afraid, to hide the fact that his skin was crawling. If only Haskah reacted somehow, got angry or spoke, blinked those dark eyes, it would break the spell that had held Stahl ever since the feline had arrived. But Haskah never did. Even now, the panther’s only movement was a slight swishing of his tail.
Stahl tore his gaze away and made his feet start walking again.
He had almost finished the round, his path looping him back amongst the more dangerous, including his dreaded Haskah, when the klaxon alarm sounded. He was only a minute or so from the radio station where he could report in the end of his rounds and be off to have a quick bite before docking procedures commenced. The Talon awaited.
Stahl cussed in more ways than he knew he could when an amplified male voice informed him that this was not a drill. Things had been going so smoothly! The air dock was so close he could almost taste his cigarette, and whatever was happening now would certainly delay their arrival. He stopped still on the pathway, noting the anxiousness of the prisoners on either side, acutely aware that Haskah was still simply sitting in the cell to his right, and waited further instruction. In the following announcement, a code name or number would inform him of what he had to do.
Then something happened that scared Stahl to his very core, ice in his spine.
The alarms stopped.
Abruptly. No explanation. No lengthy debriefing or staff calls. Just silence but for the prisoners below him, and Stahl felt suddenly, and inexorably alone amongst them.
“Cat!” The cry came from an Englishman down and to his left. Stahl turned abruptly, in time to see the cloaked feline drop from amongst the rafters barely a few feet before him. The platform radio was too far, this he knew by instinct. The cat would be on him moments before he reached it, and certainly before he could transmit anything.
The creature landed on the platform with barely a sound, both legs coiling in brace of the fall. Such a drop would have certainly broken Stahl’s legs. The creature was barely five and a half feet tall, average height for such species, excluding of course tigers, who were the largest and fiercest human felines. This brought little relief to Stahl, and he dropped the baton in favour of the compact steamjet at his hip.
The cat, still hooded, advanced towards him with a slow deliberation, legs tensing further with each steady step, and green eyes glowed out from underneath the heavy hood to bore into Stahl’s own. He froze but for his hands, which scrabbled at the catch on the steamjet. He could hear the reaction inside it which heated the water.
Then, with a snarl, the leopard was upon him. Stahl felt the air knocked out of him as his back met the solid steel platform. His hand clenched, finger pulling the trigger of the jet and loosing half a burst into the paw that wasn’t on his chest. The animal pulled back with another snarl, clutching briefly and protectively at the burned joint, drawing back into a crouch, eyes still on his.
Stahl scrambled to his feet, clicking the catch again to prepare another jet. The cat leapt, swiping out with its uninjured paw, claws sharpened and flaring. Stahl spun abruptly on the spot, trying to identify where it had hit him as he overbalanced with the force of the blow. With an expression of disappointed surprise, he realized that some vital part of his throat was missing and hit the platform face-first with a resounding thunk.
He did not get up again.
The cat stood over him for a brief moment, tail whipping angrily from side to side. It dropped loosely and easily to three paws, favouring the paw which had been devastated by the steamjet. All of the fur and some of the skin had been scalded away by the superheated blast.
In spite of its obvious pain, it limped purposefully towards Haskah’s cell.
Info for the main story arc and a brief note about Hybrids:[/b]
Such is the introduction for the main story arc. It will be fairly close-knit, requiring at least one post a day (exceptions for Christmas Day etc) and RPing of a high standard. The minimum word limit for posts will be circa a hundred words.
The characters themselves will be crew aboard a privately owned airship, renowned vehicle of the 'loveable scallywag' and part time international hero Brenden Slade (Name can be changed!).
I'm looking for five - six skilled and confident RPers who are interested in this setting and story. If you're interested, write a brief description of your planned character in the general board (or PM me if you're really shy.)
We'll need all the useful roles aboard the airship, so be creative! Your character can be human or hybrid, although obviously I'd like some variety (so avoid feline if you can)...
Have fun, I look forward to assembling me some crew!
As a note, hybrids are still untrusted in society, they are better off than negroes in America pre 1960s but the situation is similar.
Because hybrids are so different to humans it makes it easy to segregate them as they require different hospitals etc, most hybrids will end up in lower end jobs aside from the occasional doctors and bureaucrats you might find... so by being in a famous airship all these characters are respected by their peers and grudgingly acknowledged by the rest of society.
Ok, so this site is set for a limited number of players so far. It will be a close-knit RPG in a steampunk setting, and the players for the main story arc have already been selected.
It should be noted that if a number of other players express interest in joining to RP in the setting created, I can extend the site to encompass an unlimited number of members who may interact freely, but the main story arc will remain closed right to its completion.
Hi, I'm Rogerette a.k.a the GM (Game-Master). PM me if you have any questions.
Introduction to the main plot:
Stahl’s boots clanked against the rivet plate, the bare metal providing little contrast to the dull steel surroundings that made up the chassis of the zeppelin. He whistled to himself, and the lilting tune rose cheerily above the dull humming of the engines. Plated leather gloves swung a baton between fingers with an easy familiarity, and Stahl took the opportunity as he passed by a steam vent to check his stern appearance, slightly distorted on the curved plate metal.
Stahl had always been appealing, never good-looking, but his face bore an earnest look that instantly dissolved mistrust. Dark, honest eyes flickered over the reflection. The peaked beret with its stern insignia even stretched his description to handsome, and the ladies did love a man in uniform. Pausing briefly to straighten his collar, he resumed the slow, deliberate march along the platform.
The cells below the platform on either side were roofed with thick plated armour-glass, and Stahl took care to look through into each as he passed, practice allowing him to do so without stopping. Mostly, the inhabitants in their dull grey fatigues were asleep, curled up on meager mattresses. A few were reading, awakened by dawn’s light, or perhaps they simply hadn’t slept. Mentally he checked them off. He knew them all by face and most of them by name save the very newest inmates. He tried not to know any of them by crime.
A clank from somewhere above Stahl caused him to stall, peering up into the dim rafters of the massive craft. The sun was not yet high enough through the clouds to illuminate the top of the HMS Aurelia. Stahl felt a slight shiver run down his spine in spite of himself, but, seeing nothing, dismissed the sound as erroneous engine noise to report to the technicians on completion of his rounds.
Stahl looked down beneath him, noting the reptilian known as ‘Shiskan’ in the cell to his right who was slowly pacing across his cell, and the Arab on his left who was quietly asleep. Both of them were killers, but neither of them had actually killed anyone. Whatever it was that had put them here made them infinitely more dangerous than some ordinary murderer.
He picked up the pace again, twirling his baton in a business-as-usual manner, and occupying the rest of his thoughts with their scheduled arrival on the Talon in less than a half hour. The air dock floated in stasis somewhere over the Atlantic, a military refueling station. It was no social occasion, but Stahl looked forward to seeing faces he hadn’t had to look at each day for the past months. More than that, the Talon had a small smoking section, and he looked forward immensely to his one-cigarette allowance. The zeppelin’s environment ensured that his smoking habit went on hold. Fire was, obviously, a fear for all on board. Even a quick puff wasn’t worth the consequences.
He paused again above the cell of one of the older prisoners, one who still scared him to this day. Most of the criminals in here, despite being the most dangerous of their kind, had managed to develop a civilised relationship with the staff. Even those with limited English, different races, different cultures, different species, had accepted the fact that they were here ‘for the long term’, and might as well try to make the best of it. Chances of escape from high-security onboard a constantly moving armoured prison zeppelin were slim, and combined with its highly secret location, minute to nigh impossible. There wasn’t much point in being hostile towards your captors.
But the feline in the cell below never said a word. Even now, the humanoid panther simply stared silently through Stahl’s skull. He bared his teeth at the animal to show he wasn’t afraid, to hide the fact that his skin was crawling. If only Haskah reacted somehow, got angry or spoke, blinked those dark eyes, it would break the spell that had held Stahl ever since the feline had arrived. But Haskah never did. Even now, the panther’s only movement was a slight swishing of his tail.
Stahl tore his gaze away and made his feet start walking again.
He had almost finished the round, his path looping him back amongst the more dangerous, including his dreaded Haskah, when the klaxon alarm sounded. He was only a minute or so from the radio station where he could report in the end of his rounds and be off to have a quick bite before docking procedures commenced. The Talon awaited.
Stahl cussed in more ways than he knew he could when an amplified male voice informed him that this was not a drill. Things had been going so smoothly! The air dock was so close he could almost taste his cigarette, and whatever was happening now would certainly delay their arrival. He stopped still on the pathway, noting the anxiousness of the prisoners on either side, acutely aware that Haskah was still simply sitting in the cell to his right, and waited further instruction. In the following announcement, a code name or number would inform him of what he had to do.
Then something happened that scared Stahl to his very core, ice in his spine.
The alarms stopped.
Abruptly. No explanation. No lengthy debriefing or staff calls. Just silence but for the prisoners below him, and Stahl felt suddenly, and inexorably alone amongst them.
“Cat!” The cry came from an Englishman down and to his left. Stahl turned abruptly, in time to see the cloaked feline drop from amongst the rafters barely a few feet before him. The platform radio was too far, this he knew by instinct. The cat would be on him moments before he reached it, and certainly before he could transmit anything.
The creature landed on the platform with barely a sound, both legs coiling in brace of the fall. Such a drop would have certainly broken Stahl’s legs. The creature was barely five and a half feet tall, average height for such species, excluding of course tigers, who were the largest and fiercest human felines. This brought little relief to Stahl, and he dropped the baton in favour of the compact steamjet at his hip.
The cat, still hooded, advanced towards him with a slow deliberation, legs tensing further with each steady step, and green eyes glowed out from underneath the heavy hood to bore into Stahl’s own. He froze but for his hands, which scrabbled at the catch on the steamjet. He could hear the reaction inside it which heated the water.
Then, with a snarl, the leopard was upon him. Stahl felt the air knocked out of him as his back met the solid steel platform. His hand clenched, finger pulling the trigger of the jet and loosing half a burst into the paw that wasn’t on his chest. The animal pulled back with another snarl, clutching briefly and protectively at the burned joint, drawing back into a crouch, eyes still on his.
Stahl scrambled to his feet, clicking the catch again to prepare another jet. The cat leapt, swiping out with its uninjured paw, claws sharpened and flaring. Stahl spun abruptly on the spot, trying to identify where it had hit him as he overbalanced with the force of the blow. With an expression of disappointed surprise, he realized that some vital part of his throat was missing and hit the platform face-first with a resounding thunk.
He did not get up again.
The cat stood over him for a brief moment, tail whipping angrily from side to side. It dropped loosely and easily to three paws, favouring the paw which had been devastated by the steamjet. All of the fur and some of the skin had been scalded away by the superheated blast.
In spite of its obvious pain, it limped purposefully towards Haskah’s cell.
Info for the main story arc and a brief note about Hybrids:[/b]
Such is the introduction for the main story arc. It will be fairly close-knit, requiring at least one post a day (exceptions for Christmas Day etc) and RPing of a high standard. The minimum word limit for posts will be circa a hundred words.
The characters themselves will be crew aboard a privately owned airship, renowned vehicle of the 'loveable scallywag' and part time international hero Brenden Slade (Name can be changed!).
I'm looking for five - six skilled and confident RPers who are interested in this setting and story. If you're interested, write a brief description of your planned character in the general board (or PM me if you're really shy.)
We'll need all the useful roles aboard the airship, so be creative! Your character can be human or hybrid, although obviously I'd like some variety (so avoid feline if you can)...
Have fun, I look forward to assembling me some crew!
As a note, hybrids are still untrusted in society, they are better off than negroes in America pre 1960s but the situation is similar.
Because hybrids are so different to humans it makes it easy to segregate them as they require different hospitals etc, most hybrids will end up in lower end jobs aside from the occasional doctors and bureaucrats you might find... so by being in a famous airship all these characters are respected by their peers and grudgingly acknowledged by the rest of society.