Emillion Mods (emillionmods) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-07-26 17:51:00 |
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Who: Everyone in the area.
What: A darkening cloud falls over the city.
Where: Tenement District.
When: Late evening.
Rating: R; violence.
The small boat moved by itself through the water, without wind nor oarman to guide it forward, as it carried only a single passenger with a single small lantern in hand. Their eyes clouded by the dense Mist that had formed around the city throughout the day and into the evening, the dock workers barely had opportunity to glimpse its seemingly unprofound arrival. The traveler didn't mind the overall lack of fanfare, of course, she had no use for that manner of inconvenience tonight. Her boat swayed gently over to the pier and, with ginger movements, the woman left her small boat and lantern behind. A scientist she was by profession, or had been, as that life had left her long ago. Her calling was much higher now, more profound in importance, but it was true that the woman still looked the part, her traveling cloak tattered by the sea, her bags and tool pouches warped from the near-constant rain. The once-scientist adjusted her glasses and made her way through the city gate. Such a wonder was Emillion, she thought to herself, even as viewed through the haze of Mist. Such an old city, filled with so many clever secrets simply waiting to be discovered. Almost like an expedition of old, and the idea thrilled her a bit, quickening her pace through the streets. Walking on land again felt unusual, so accustomed was she now to the ebb and flow of the sea, its gentle waves and roiling storms. The cobbles under her feet seemed foreign now, and walking was proving tedious, tiresome. Something more efficient would need to be found. Around the corner of the next block was parked a small row of vehicles, clever machines fueled by magicite that she had once been very familiar with. Reaching for her tools, it only took a few moments of tinkering to get one of the vehicles running and a suitable traveling alternative found. Turning the headlamp on, she made double, triple the time. It was infinitely more efficient, and the easy sway of the machine as she glided around each city block made her feel at ease once again. But this city was wholly unfamiliar, and it was difficult to tell where she needed to go. Only the constant feeling that she must continue onward kept her at such an excited pace. A mistake, perhaps. Not every district was as welcoming to her arrival. This district, from what she could gather, was more rundown than the rest, the buildings in various states of ill repair, the street lamps flickering as she passed. There were people out, however, many people gathered in groups to note her passing by, and she was not at all prepared that they might take some sort of offense to her presence. One group of young men stopped right in front of her. It was difficult to maneuver around them, too difficult, and the hoverbike lost its balance midair. The two parted ways, the bike speeding off to a halt into a pile of trash bags and she landing in a similarly ungraceful manner on the street. There was a taste of blood in the woman's mouth, and she rose to her feet in a slow and strained manner. Her head felt foggy. Some of the men were shouting, but the language seemed foreign through the haze of her mind. Like loud static through a faulty machine, they were indecipherable. This was no good, all her work for this evening was delayed now, and it made her irritated, angry, and she wiped the blood from her mouth on the edge of her tattered cloak. It sounded as if someone had screamed. Bothersome details, mucking up her focus. Her hand reached for the pistol on her belt, she'd show them a thing or two about hospitality, once her mind became clear again. Famfrit was simply so loud when he was angry. Her companion settled behind her, a tower of armor in the sea of dense Mist, raising a giant gauntleted fist and summoning from its timeless well of power. The men were running away, she realized, their figures disappearing into the fog, but his spell followed after them as true and unstoppable as the tide. The feeble stone under their feet could not abide the magick, their mortal flesh as nothing so much as a hindrance to the ancient sea, to the reckoning of Darkening Cloud itself. The woman heard the uncoiling of chains and knew her companion was raising its great ewer above her. |