Renegade Misfits – An Original Final Fantasy RP

Started by Miyr, June 07, 2010, 01:03:44 AM

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Miyr

In the country Deira, located on the central continent of the world that was inhabited by diverse races and many classes of people, there were a couple of major cities that held the power over the current economic and social equilibrium. One of these major cities, known as Soma, was within the top five of the nation for its economy and social standing. Many lords and ladies who were descendants of the royal family inhabited Soma, for it was well known for its forbidden districts and beautiful architecture.

It was on such a day that the citizens of Soma were enjoying their leisurely activities, shopping in the markets or strolling through the streets when a huge national event would occur. An airship of the royal navy was seen by the citizens in the sky, smoke and flames erupting from it. Many were horrified by the sight, for Deira was not at war so there was no reason for people to be in such terrible condition, and began to gather in the streets to watch.

However, soon they were fleeing for their lives when they noticed that the airship was descending in the sky, not ascending. The airship was coming down, and it was going to fall into the city. Many transport pods evacuated out of the smaller airship, fleeing to try and save as many lives of the crew as possible. There was a prime building in the airship’s path, and word quickly spread that people needed to evacuate. It was going to come down right on a central shopping district, and it was impossible to stop it.

Screaming filled the streets as people fled, and there were others trying to force buildings to be cleared. One of these people was a young woman named Alexandria Boudreaux. Known as Alexia to most, she was the daughter of a merchant lord, and it was her job to run the local shop on the day this airship came crashing down into the city. Barking out orders like the aristocrat she was, she helped clear the path for the airship as it came crashing down onto the city.

Unfortunately Alexia was caught in the crash, taking shelter in a nearby building as the airship came onto the ground and exploded. Once the flames had subsided a bit, Alexia fled from the wrecked building she was trapped in, digging herself out and eventually emerged to see the destroyed district. Panting heavily, she thanked her blessings before emerging from the wreckage, covered in grime and a bit of blood from cuts she received, feeling that her leg was damaged. She was in too much shock to truly feel the amount of pain that was coming from the wound, so she kept trudging forward.

Hobbling away from the wreckage, Alexia spotted some survivors that she knew, people who worked for her and her father. Immediately going toward them, she smiled and eagerly took a helping hand, using the support to walk better so she could get away from the wreckage. There was a makeshift triage area, and the crew she worked with immediately took her there. A medic arrived and immediately got to work removing the piece of shrapnel that was embedded in her thigh. She screamed loudly in pain as it was removed, and quickly passed out from the pain and the sight of it all.

Citizens and victims of the event were left scurrying around the district in a panic, trying to extinguish fires and rescue those who were caught in the destruction. The reactions of the people were diverse and strong, weak and frantic. However, the events of this day would cause a shift in the balance of power not only for Deira, but for the souls directly affected by this event.
Been gone for almost two years. I apologize for my absence.

-Miyr


Henderson

#183 had been given no orders.

He stood, quiet save for the ticking of his heart while around him, the city erupted into chaos. People ran back and forth in front of him, screaming and shouting at each other and waving their hands at things. They knelt on the floor weeping, or shouting their woes to the sky and anyone who could hear them. #183 Didn’t understand why they were doing these things. He didn’t understand why no-one was telling him to help. This type of introspection was new to #183, who had never considered wanting anything. He wanted to help, to be useful.

Eventually, he felt a pressure on his hand and looked down to see what had caused it. A small, delicate hand had wrapped its fingers around one of his own massive digits. The hand was attached to one of the small humans that filled the city, wearing a dress and looking dirty. The small human looked up at him and said “I can’t find mummy”. He did not understand the order.
     “I do not understand your order, Maam” he told the small human. “Please re-state your request”
     “I lost my mummy and I can’t find her” The little girl began to cry, a hiccupping wail that he felt was like a siren. Now a siren, he understood. Something was wrong. The little girl was not giving him an order, but she required aid. He stood motionless for a while, watching the small human sound her siren until an idea formed in his mind. As carefully as he could, knowing that humans were delicate and required careful handling he picked her up and placed her on his shoulder, where all cargo that he carried was placed. One hand on her side to make sure she did not fall and damage herself, he began to walk.

He heard another siren sound, a voice that he recognised. He walked in the direction of it, heavy metallic footsteps barely heard over the running feet of the humans all around him. One, not careful enough to look where he was going collided with #183’s chest and fell down backwards, swearing. #183 stopped and watched the man pick himself back up, before carrying on the way he was going. #183 carried on walking until he spotted the Overseer, laying prone on a bed surrounded by others. He stopped at the foot of the medical bed, the doctors giving him a strange look and telling him to go away, but they had no authority over him. “Overseer Boudreaux, Maam. This human has a request.” He told the overseer, getting no reply.
     “She’s unconscious, you idiot machine” one of the doctors told him.
     “I do not understand your order, Sir.” He replied, looking back down at the Overseer. “Maam. This human has a request” He stated to the unconscious Alexia, once again.
A level 5 Solo Lurker!

Kineas

Ienis had been making his way to the prime building as soon as he saw the airship descending. It was his day off, and he had been sitting on top of the roof of his humble home looking up at the sky at the time. When it finally crashed, he was already more than halfway there. As the airship finally crashed into the building, Ienis felt a twinge of deja vu, although he shook it off quickly and redoubled his pace. Lives were at stake. He needed to get there.

When he did finally arrive, he immediately applied himself to the task of digging up potential survivors and helping people who were close to death. With a subtle application of healing power, their survival would be guaranteed and no one needed to know he was using ... well, in truth Ienis didn't know what he was using. He kept his power to himself, and only used it when it was needed. When is healing more needed than when people are dieing? He went about his work quickly and passionately, saving as many people as one man restricted to one place at a time could.

Miyr

The doctors that swarmed around Alexia were focusing on cleaning out her wound as best as they could as #183 approached. They were frantically trying to stop the bleeding, for the scrap of metal appeared to have been dangerously close to piercing an artery in her thigh. There was one doctor who was covered in her blood, pulling out fragments of the metal for it had broken apart upon impact. One of the crew who recognized #183 and ha helped Alexia get to the triage unit quickly ran up to the large machine and tugged on his arm. This man was one of the more burly members of the Organization that had created #183 and quickly spoke to him in a way that he would surely understand.

“Give me the girl!” It was a simple and basic command, one that #183 would have been able to comply with. There were a select few people who were able to order #183 to do more intricate tasks, but the crew was permitted to give him orders to direct him where to place cargo and such. This was being treated just like one of those times. The man yelled again, growing impatient with the machine, holding his arms up. “Give me the cargo 183!” Once the machine lowered the girl into the burly man’s arms, he quickly asked her if she was alright and then heard her plea about her mother. Nodding swiftly, the burly man ran off toward the wreckage with the small girl in his arms, going toward where her mother should be in the mess.

Enough time had passed now where Alexia had started to come back to consciousness. Upon seeing the sight of her bleeding leg, she let out another high pitched shriek as the pain swarmed back to her mind. Clawing at the medical bed with her hands, she began to frantically scream out and a doctor pinned her down to the makeshift bed. They were desperately trying to stop the bleeding but it wasn’t working. When  Aleixa heard the word amputation being thrown out a few times, she began to panic more.

“You will NOT cut my leg off!? Understand!? I am Lord Nobuo’s daughter you fools! If you cripple me you will have the wrath of our whole House upon you!” the way that Alexia spoke in that moment was of the arrogant noble she was. But there was no way in hell that she could allow someone to cut her leg off. It simply wouldn’t do for a lady of her stature, co-owner of a merchant business or not.

Spotting #183 standing there before her, it took a moment for her eyes to lock on him and her mind to clear, realizing what she should do with him. Looking around the scene, Alexia’s arrogance finally faltered and she glared at #183 with a determination that burned with a brilliance that was passed down to her from the Queens she was long descended from.

“183!” She barked out strongly, gripping the table tighter as the doctors poured some alcohol on her wound to sterilize it. “Go into the wreckage! Help those who are digging people out! I am your Overseer! I demand that you go into the wreckage and save as many lives you can. Hurry! Go dig people out now! Save lives now! Get them to safety as fast as you can!” Alexia’s attention was once again turned to her leg as more alcohol was poured on it, and a doctor approached with crude suturing material. Shrieking out in frustration, she began to yell and kick at the doctors. “Take me to a proper medic!”
Been gone for almost two years. I apologize for my absence.

-Miyr


Henderson

“Maam!” #183 responded, raising a hand to his head in a salute. “Heading to the Wreckage Maam! Helping with digging, Maam! Going to the Wreckage and saving as many lives as this one can, Maam. Saving lives now, Maam! Getting them to safety as fast as this one can, Maam!” He stopped for a few seconds, working out what had been shouted at him in his head, as his mind was slow to understand. He heard another order. “Taking you to a proper medic, Maam!”
     Using a hand to heft aside one of the doctors so he could pick up the Overseer, he hoisted her over a shoulder before she could shout a no and started to run towards the wreckage. “Preparing mental map of merchant district” He informed the overseer. “No adequate medics in district for fixing damage to Overseer. This one requests permission to exit the district, Maam!”
     His feet were heavy on the cobblestones, his movement across them occasionally kicked up a spark. It was unusual for an Automaton to run, even though they had been built for it. They were clumsy machines, dim witted and unsuited for moving too quickly without causing an accident. #183 was careful that he did not collide with humans, and understood that the Overseers damage should not receive too much stress as it could create un-nessicary torsion and further damage it. He held her carefully, if a little bumpily.
A level 5 Solo Lurker!

Kineas

"I guess that's all I can do for this area." Ienis spoke to himself as he stood up from digging up someone who had already been dead. He took a deep breath. "I should..." His thoughts were interrupted by an automaton's voice. It stood out among the cries and yells of the place. Although he couldn't catch all of what was said at his distance, Ienis did catch something about a 'proper medic'. With the way things were, they were probably in need as well. He began heading in the direction of the machine's voice.

"I may be screwing myself over today, but lives need saving, and a secret can't compare to that need."

Miyr

Hearing 183 accept the orders that she had given him, Alexia started to turn her attention away before seeing what 183 was doing to the doctors. She was still in shock, unsure of what was going on, and blinked horrified as she was picked up and slung around his shoulders. About to scream out in horror, she stayed silent as she was placed around his shoulders and he began to run off. The run was a bit uneven, but she was not in too much discomfort. Part of her smirked at the machine’s mistake, but part of her was also touched by it. it was amusing to her that he misunderstood what was said, but it also made her realize that there might be more to the machine than meets the eye.

Feeling the machine’s feet catching on the cobblestones, she screamed loudly as she wiggled around and tried to get away, even though it was impossible for her to do so. Glancing around at the rubble, Alexia started seeing corpses being brought out of the rubble and felt her stomach lurch. She could handle the uneven stride of the machine carrying her, but the sight of dead people was too much. Doing her best to hold her stomach contents down, she suddenly felt the machine stumble once again and screamed out frightened, trying to push herself up onto his shoulders more to avoid getting smacked into the ground. Deciding to end this, she quickly grit her teeth together and barked out an order at 183.

“Set me down!” She yelled then quickly added, “Gently! Set me down gently!” she knew that the machine would take the order literally, so she waited for it to set her down on the street or a broken piece of building so she could inspect her leg. Alexia was sure that she had been bleeding all over the machine and needed to try and stop it before she bled out. Inside her mind, she silently prayed for someone to come along and help her, for she was beginning to feel light headed and woozy, knowing that she was probably going to be in serious danger of dying if someone couldn’t fix her up. . . Soon.
Been gone for almost two years. I apologize for my absence.

-Miyr


Henderson

“Maam!” #183 declared and skidded to a stop, sending a quick trail of sparks behind him. He took her off of his shoulders and set her down on the floor carefully, setting her up against a wall so her body was supported. “Maam, This one observes you are leaking fluid from your damaged hull. This one would like to position the Overseer upside down to reduce internal pump pressure and stem leakage, Maam” #183 slammed its hand against its head again in a salute, standing stock still over her, half drenched in her blood down one side.
A level 5 Solo Lurker!

Kineas

Ienis finally found his way to the automaton, but he had not been expecting it to be covered in blood on one side. It didn't take long to find the source of the blood, and he ran over to her as quickly as he could. "Hello, miss, try not to be alarmed."

He usually refrained from healing someone while they were still conscious or able to see him, but it didn't take a genius to see all the blood and figure that he had to act fast. Kneeling down he put his hand over the wound and spoke softly, inaudibly to himself. The pain subsided first, then the wound closed. He smiled to the woman. "Make sure you drink lots of water."

Standing back up, he looked around for the next place that needed help.

Miyr

Feeling 183 skid to a stop, Alexia gripped onto him even tighter as she tried to steady herself before being placed onto the ground. Shifting a bit so she was propped up against the wall, she glanced up at 183 hearing the smack sound of his salute. She was rather pale at this point, and was doing her best to focus on what he was saying, but it was impossible. Her attention was directly shifted to the new person who had approached her, and stared up at him with dull eyes. She started to mumble a bit incoherently and watched the hands go to her leg.

The pain vanished and then the wound appeared to not be there. She could see in her ripped trousers that the wound was gone, and stared up at the new arrival with clearing eyes. “How did you?” she whispered out before he rose and left, telling her to drink water. staring at 183, then at the fleeing man, Alexia slowly stood and realized that her leg was fully healed. Slumping against 183, Alexia pulled herself up and glanced around at the carnage that surrounded them. she needed to help others, even though she was in a weakened state, but she also knew that she needed to find the man that had healed her. Staring up at 183, she spoke calmly yet firmly.

“I need you to help people. Help the men who are digging people out, and if possible. . . Keep your eye on that man who helped me.” Not caring to wait for 183 to respond, Alexia pushed her way forward and started helping people evacuate to the triage unit. Her trousers were red with blood, but she didn’t care, she’d push forward to help people get out of the wreckage.
Been gone for almost two years. I apologize for my absence.

-Miyr


Henderson

#183 saluted again and wandered off without a word, fitting himself in the crowd moving rubble and debris. He was built for things like this, his hard metal skin and tough fingers able to wedge themselves into gaps and not have to be worried about being crushed by heavy weight. The servos in his shoulders whirred into life as he hefted a boulder over his head, stepping back and turning to put it down with a ground shaking thud before he moved back over and wrapped his fingers around a metal girder.
     He wasn’t sure why he was lifting things. The Overseer had said ‘Save Lives’, but he wasn’t sure there was a member of the company called Lives, or wether he was under the rubble or not. But an order was an order, so he lifted, shifted, and dropped the parts too big for the humans to lift. He knew that as his place in the world, to do the things that humans could not. It was an important task and one that he did unthinkingly.
     He lifted a sheet of metal up from under the rubble, and a shout went out from the group around him, people pushing forwards. He could not lift the sheet fully, as people had gotten under it in a hurry to try and get something out. They were sounding their sirens as they did so, and he was confused as to why they were putting themselves in more danger rather then continuing to remove the rubble. So he stayed, holding that sheet of metal which had served as a roof to save the survivors inside from the crush above his head, a ramp holding back more rocks. “… This one is unable to continue lifting. Please remove yourselves from the lifting Zone. You are making it impossible to continue orders, please remove yourselves from the lifting zone.”
     #183 was getting worried. If he could not continue his orders, he would be deemed defective and taken in for repairs or destroyed for parts. Realising what that implied, #183 was finally aware that he did not want to cease existing, and took a step forward to try and get a better hold on the metal sheeting. “This one must continue to follow orders. Please remove yourselves from the lifting zone” He said, impassionately. If he was capable of sounding scared, it might have helped. People started to panic as the Automaton started moving, shifting pebble sized bits of rubble and the roof that was currently holding back bigger pieces of rubble.
A level 5 Solo Lurker!

Miyr

Seeing that #183 had taken her orders to heart, Alexia continued to go around the mess of rubble, trying to help dazed survivors like herself and get them out of the area. But by this time now, the guards from the center of the city had arrived and were beginning to assist in the recovery effort. They were ushering those helping victims of the rubble out of the area and gathering them into a safe zone filled with doctors and medics.

Alexia was one of those people rounded up by guards, and frantically searched for anyone that she knew. Eventually meeting up with a few men of her crew, they frantically tried to check her leg but she forced them away. She didn’t want anyone looking and seeing that the wound was gone, and said that the blood wasn’t hers. They would have to accept it; she was the boss and they listened to whatever she told them, thus this would just have to be another order.

Eventually they were moved to an area further away from the wreckage, and Alexia stood with her men in a line waiting for people to come and get them. she still couldn’t see #183, but she hoped that he would at least remember how to get back to their headquarters. If not, someone would find his ID number and return him quickly.

Tucking some of her fair, yet dirty hair, behind her ear, her blue eyes flicked up across the faces of those who were crying. Eagerly taking a flask of water from someone, she drank a large amount down because she had been advised too. Alexia was also aware that she had lost a lot of blood due to the fact she couldn’t walk far without getting dizzy and grabbing onto someone for support. She was hoping that her father would be arriving soon, but didn’t look forward to all the bureaucratic debate she’d have to deal with further down the road. With their shop destroyed in this district, the company lost a lot of money but that wasn’t what was on Alexia’s mind right now.

She was wondering what brought the airship down, and why. Clearly it was retreating to the city to get repaired, but they country was not at war. Something was going on, something big. It was unknown to the young merchant, but she knew deep down in her gut that things were going to change drastically.
Been gone for almost two years. I apologize for my absence.

-Miyr


Nevermore of blood ravens

Sasha slowly extricated himself from the dust and rubble, coughing and clawing at the debris. He had been taking a nap in the bathroom of the building where he kept his studio when hell erupted around him. He looked around himself as he cleared the wreckage of his building, spying the remains of an airship and the bodies littering the ground around him. He barely had time to question what had happened before being Shepherded  off by a guard.

Henderson

People got out of the way finally, as #183 stepped into the hole that the survivors had been trapped in and stretched his arms up, lifting the sheet above his head fully as the last of them climbed out of the hole behind him, swearing at the crazy machine for putting them all in danger. His servo’s whined loudly as he stuggled with it, moving his feet again to step out of the hole and bringing the makeshift shovel with him. Dumping it down with practised care.
     It seemed like most of the humans were moving away now, either given up on finding any more survivors or too tired or injured to continue. #183 picked up a discarded shovel in his hand and went back to the piles of junk, digging it in to a clump of brick and mortar crumbs and dust and hoying it behind him. The methodic crunch and slide of the shovel at work reminded him of the ticking of his clockwork heart, slow, methodical, accurate. He was out of time with the few people who had remained to help out, and he tried to Synchronise with their strikes but to no avail.
      When he had cleared away as much of the small clumps of debris as he could, he started to heft large chunks of it again, lifting, walking, dropping, repeating. He began to make piles of debris based on what was closest, types of material, things that could be re-used for building the city again. He wasn’t sure why, it seemed like the right thing to do.
     When the sun began to rise at dawn and the birds began to sing outside the city, the red glow of the sun illuminating his heavily dusty hull, #183 was the only thing still working where he was, other workers having fallen asleep or having been dragged away by families or doctors. He was alone, following his orders. Trying to prove he was not defective, that he was useful and in full working order. Every so often, he would find wood to chew on and feed his internal fire, or drank water from a roof drainage bucket in order to keep his steam levels high. When the dust was so thick on his body that he was having trouble holding things, he washed himself quickly, and went back to work.
     The day had broken. And he was still there when the workers came back to carry on.
A level 5 Solo Lurker!

Miyr

Alexia had waited with the other survivors of the wreckage for her father’s transport car to arrive, taking her and the other men back to her residence. It was a lavish home in the more up-scale district of town. Her father greeted them with a stern expression, but it softened when he was presented with dirt and blood covered Alexia. Ushering the men under his employ off to the guest rooms, Lord Nobuo made sure that his private medic inspected Alexia head to toe before having the servants prepare a bath for her.

Once the grime and grit was washed from her form, the blood off of her leg, she rose from the warm, now murky water and allowed the private medic to examine her. After getting a few wrappings on her wrists and ribs, she was released to her rooms to rest. Her body was damaged, mainly bruised from being crushed, but otherwise she would recover with rest.

Lying in her bed, she stared up at the ceiling as the curtains were drawn over her bed. Letting out a heavy sigh, she replayed the events of the day in her mind, holding her pillow close as she ran her fingertips over her thigh, wondering how in the world it was healed and she was still alive. Rolling onto her side, she squeezed her pillow tightly to her belly and closed her eyes as she tried to force herself to sleep, but she found that the night would be a restless one. She could still hear the screams of people as the airship crashed into their part of the district’s market square.

Alexia would toss and turn the whole night restlessly until she would hear the birds outside of her room. The curtains prevented the light from coming in, but she could feel it was morning. Rising out of her bed, she slowly pulled the curtains aside and began to sort through her drawers, debating on what to wear that day. She knew that everyone else in the home was asleep, except for a few servants possibly, but she was sure that the recovery effort would resume shortly.
Been gone for almost two years. I apologize for my absence.

-Miyr


Nevermore of blood ravens

Sasha spent the better part of the night answering the guards questions about what he saw and heard, which he admitted, was little. Dawn came and he was finally allowed to go and look at the remains of his studio. He searched the collapsed building and was dismayed to find that the sum total of he peacetime artwork was destroyed and set out to put his military training to use helping the others and set to work near the automaton he had seen digging tirelessly through the night.

Kineas

When the morning came and Ienis awoke, He couldn't help but feel like he was forgetting something. He had had the feeling for what seemed like half of yesterday too... but he just couldn't put his finger on what it was or when it started. He shook his head and sent himself to work.

Ienis made his living as a guard. He worked in their specialty division for escorting and/or protecting very important wares and/or people. There weren't a lot of people who made it into the aspect of the guards who were assigned to protect nobles or very, very wealthy merchants; only the best were accepted. The best or those with an unseen advantage.

He arrived at his reporting station a few minutes early, greeting the officer there with a salute. The officer stood at the entrance to the guardhouse closest to Ienis' residence holding a notepad loosely. "Sir, Ienis Caleron reporting for service."

The officer returned his salute. "Good morning warrant Caleron. Do you have anything to report?" This was routine, but only for Ienis. He had a habit of getting himself involved in work during his free time.

"Sir, I rendered my aid during the airship crash yesterday from it's descent until deep dusk."

He nodded as though he expected to hear it, making a note. "Understood. Today you are to return to that area and continue the rescue efforts until you are requested for commissionary work. I believe I heard that someone from the Boudreaux estate would be taking a look through our ranks later, ensure that you cooperate with them if they ask for your aid."

Ienis saluted again. "Yes sir. Will there be anything else?"

"That should do it. Dismissed."

Ienis began heading back to the damaged area and got himself to work.

Geradine

Gerad was one of the of the first white mages to arrive from one of the nearby towns, and immediatly headed to the triage tents near the impact zone. He was ushered into the main tents quickly, and he was suprised by the number of wounded.

"who needs healing the most?" he asked the nearest doctor. the doctor led him to a small tent by the side. "these patients have wounds we can only relieve them from. most will not make it another day."

Gerad proceeded to move bed to bed, murmuring gentle encocuragements to those he healed, concious or not. his hands glowed with the light of his healing, and most he healed he managed to heal completely. others, however, even he coudln't completely help. as his mana ran low, he healed less and less. with the final person, all he managed to do was clear the infection that was starting to form. he tiredly called the doctors in to finish up, and moved towards the rubble, leaning somewhat heavily on his staff. he moved towards the largest concentration of people, who seem to have centered their work around an automaton, and used his staff for leverage in moving rocks away. the manual labor gave him time to recover, and he healed those he found, aquiring a gash along his jaw by a shard of metal when the rock he was levering suddenly shifted and caught him off balance. he quickly healed himself, and went back to work.
The view from behind a scope puts everything into perspective.

There are many things you can tell about a person by the way he/she writes. -me, i think.

Miyr

The events that took place the day the airship came crashing down upon Soma had instilled fear in the hearts of many, and glee in the eyes of a select few. The event had caused a shift of power within the city, many noble families fighting to get compensated for their losses. There were others who were focusing on their humanitarian efforts primarily to try and earn praise from the king of the land, but even they had their own moments of complaint.

The Boudreaux home was one of the few noble families focusing on the humanitarian effort, providing shelter and food for families who had lost everything they had. Lord Nobuo was doing this to help enhance his public image, but he was also a smart and cunning man. In five years, people would remember that it was the Boudreaux Merchant Company who had helped them get back on their feet, so in the future business would increase.

His daughter, Alexia, was focused on other things. She was down there early that day, passing out food and clothes to children, trying to bring smiles back to their faces with candy and toys. The daughter of Nobuo shared his arrogance, but not his greed. Lavish gowns and jewels had never interested her. Swords and fighting were her calling. She had received private training on how to fence properly, and competed with other noble families son’s, doing rather well for her hindrance of being a woman.

Spotting #183 still working on sorting through the rubble, she patted his metal shoulder gently and smiled up at him. Taking in the many assorted piles of rubble and scrap metal, she immediately assumed that #183 had done so during his overnight stay within the district. She was dressed in a crème vest that was open at the collar, the bottom of it coming past her hips slightly. Underneath was a leather skirt with a high cut on one thigh, leather leggings underneath. Her shoulder length hair was pulled back with a ribbon to keep it from her face as she worked. “Good work #183, you have done well.”

As she spoke, Alexia noticed the damage done to the unit and quickly began to move his joints around. She wasn’t the smartest when it came to machines, but she did know a little. The metal of his hands was worn down and gashed, clearly needing to be repaired. Metal along his torso was also damaged, and his arms, clearly having occurred form all the work he had been doing to rescue people. The machine had done well, and it made Alexia smile for a brief moment.

Giving #183 a firm scolding, she pointed toward a different area of the district where men from her father’s company were waiting. “I need you to get your hands repaired #183, a member of the company will escort you to the repair shop. I expect to see you back down here once you are finished.”
Been gone for almost two years. I apologize for my absence.

-Miyr


Henderson

“Maam” #183 agreed with a salute, his worn servo’s whining as he did so. “This one is afraid he could not save Company Employee Lives. This one could not find him.” He said, before trudging off towards where he was ordered to with his hands by his sides. He was not in pain, for it was an alien sensation to him. He was aware however, of the damaged condition of his internal machinery by the noises they were making, the shaking squeals where dust had gotten between the gears and all of the stiffness was obvious to him. His hands had worn down the most – the rubber padding that was placed on the underside of his hands to give his palms more grip had almost completely worn off overnight due to the amount of heavy wear that he’d put them through, all that remained was the outline of a handprint, tiny specks of black trapped between joint lines originally designed to keep the rubber on.
     Running metallic fingertips across those rough rubbed flecks, #183 walked into the industrial yard that housed the east division of the merchant company. The first thing that he noticed were just how many damaged automatons there were standing, sitting or laying around in the work yard. They had came here with no other orders, regardless of how damaged they were because that is what they were supposed to do. Of the 30 or so mechanical men that filled the yard at least half of their fires had died out permenantly, never to be rekindled into life. The thought terrified him.
     Not that automatons were easy to destroy, of course. They were thick skinned, capable of withstanding damage from a falling cargo crate and able to be repaired back into full working order. The fire in their bellies could be extinguished and it would put the automaton into an equivalent of sleep, though they did not dream. Re-lighting an automaton’s fire was a simple process and would re-awaken it. #183 knelt down beside one of his fallen kind and reached forward, lifting the head that was on the ground beside its body up to look into its eyes. Its skull had been crushed, no doubt by falling debris and the delicate machinery inside its head had been broken. That was one way to ensure that while a fire could be lit, the automaton would never awaken again. Nervous, #183 took off his hat and ran a hand across his head, checking it for damage. His hand caught on something and it made him jolt suddenly, dropping the head that was in his other hand. It had been a sharp sensation, like a lightning bolt had struck the inside of his head. Carefully, he reached back and felt what had caused it.
     Pulling the sliver of metal from the back of his head was like having a heavy burden taken from his shoulders, he was unaware of how much of a problem it was causing until it was gone. He looked at it, a strange type of metal he couldn’t identify, wafer thin and a few inches long. It must have been travelling at some speed to have pierced the metal of his head and he suspected that it had grazed the delicate machinery inside, causing the strange sensation he had felt when his finger had bumped against it. He looked carefully at the sliver, wondering how close he had actually been to his existence being ended by it and wondered what to do. Able to think of no better plan, he slipped the sliver of metal into the lining of his flat cap as a reminder of how close he came.
     “… And the damnest thing?”
     “Yeah?”
     “I swear I saw someone out there last night killing people they found under the rubble. Like he was putting them out of their misery” two voices discussed in the background while #183 looked around the mess of destroyed and damaged automatons. He turned his head slightly to see who it was – two employees of the company, who were on a break and sharing a cigarette between them both. “Your kidding.” The second one rebutted “Aint no way and no how someone would ruin lives like that.”
     “I’m telling you I saw it, Biggs. I dunno if it was some addle headed killer looking for fun or what, but I tell you this…” the first said, taking a long draw on the cigarette before he passed it back. “… people might see him as a saint when they come to realise they ain’t got no home no more. Tell you at least half of the people in this district are going to be destitute. It’ll ruin lives, will a catastrophy like that. Mark my words”
     “You’re a pessimist is what you are, Wedge”
     #183 turned back to look at the smashed-headed automaton he was crouched by. That’s what the overseer had meant when she had ordered him to save lives. She was talking about other humans, not a specific person whose name was Lives. He realised he had made a mistake, and that his orders had not been completed. He pulled his cap back on his head and rubbed the back of his neck, hearing a squeal of metal that surprised him. He had forgotten that he was still in need of repair, and that he had been ordered here for a reason. He stood up and walked over to the two employees on break, saluting. “Sirs! This one has been ordered to return to this facility for repairs so this one can continue saving lives and making people safe, sirs!”.
     “183? Huh.” Biggs said, standing up and putting his hands on his side, stretching his back slowly.     
     “Wondered where you had gotten off to when everything went downhill last night. Who gave you those orders where you weren’t supposed to follow protocol and return to the yard, eh?”
     “Sir, Overseer Boudreaux, sir”
     “Oh” Biggs said, clearing his throat a little as the authority that he thought he had was quickly removed. “Well, we’re on break for another hour, see?” He motioned at Wedge, who waved the cigarette at the big automaton. “You’ll have to wait.”
     “This one understands, Sir” … But that didn’t mean this one liked it, is what he omitted from his reply. He walked away from the pair and went back to the yard, ignoring the chuckles and insults that were coming from behind him. He sat down on a thick bench, listening to the creaking of his gears mix with the creaking of the wood. He looked around the yard a little, with nothing better to do other then sit hunched over, arms on his thighs and shedding the dust of a night’s work. Tools dotted all over the place, discarded body parts from automatons who were too damaged to be repaired, sheet metal.
     “… This one was not given an order” He realised, speaking to himself for the first time ever while thinking about what the employees had said. “… This one could repair itself. It would still be following the overseer’s orders. It would not be breaking any rules.” It was a slow realisation, one that he rolled around in his head for a while before standing up silently. He walked over to the crush-headed automaton and picked it up with one hand inside its neck cavity, walking over to one of the toolboxes and setting it down carefully.
     #183 was good with his hands, as he came to discover. Even if those hands were not his own. With a technical savvy he wasn’t aware he had, he removed one of his arms completely as well as stripping out a few of the worn gears from inside his shoulder, working one handed as he re-attached one of the other auto’s undamaged arms in its place. This was repeated again with the other arm, working left handed as he cleaned, cut and welded things back into place.
     The new arms felt good and fresh, he thought and flexed them. He looked down at the armless body beside him and felt odd for a few moments. He knew that unit could never be brought back due to extensive brain damage, but he still wanted to do something in order to make sure that he remembered where his new strength had come from. “117” He said to himself, touching the embroidered number on its overalls, stained with soot and grime as they were. Absent-mindedly, he picked up a fine detail welding torch and clicked its flame into life. He copied the number on his wrist, just under the joint and worked it onto his own skin, a permenant reminder of the auto that had given up part of itself. He watched the metal redden and cool, waiting for it to set before he used a piece of cloth to wipe down the surface. Now he would remember.
     When #183 had returned to the crash site, he did so with a tool box. Oh yes, it was full of tools, but it also held a spare set of hands and gears inside it, just in case his hands became damaged again. It would save another journey back to the work yard when his orders were to help people and keep them safe. He had also washed himself down and cleaned out his insides with a bucket of grease in order to keep himself in good and working order. Tucked under his other arm was a bag of coal and an empty bucket for water.
     He walked past a crowd and back to where he was working, setting the toolbox and his things beside one of the piles of lumber he had built up last night. Stretching his arms out just to make sure they were in perfect order, he started to lift out large chunks of rubble that had fallen down while he was gone. Work was easier in the light, he realised, as he could see things better. He was even making good time when a spatter of water hit him on the head, followed by another. He looked up at the sky, which had started raining and washing away the dirt of the night. People were huddling under what cover there was in the street, many of them unable to go home to get out of it since they had no homes to go to.
     #183 looked in the direction of the work yard, knowing that the staff would be taking the automatons inside now to get them out of the rain and stop the rust. The humans had gotten out of the rain themselves, not needing an order. Were they likely to rust if they hadn’t? He remembered what the one ‘Wedge’ had said. Homeless, destitute. He thought back to the small human sounding her siren.
     And then, he did something that no other automaton had ever done. He had an idea.

“What are you doing, 183?” Overseer Boudreaux asked him as he started hammering nails into wooden beams loudly in the middle of the street, holding up a large sheet of metal every so often to check the distance between the beams as he worked underneath it out of the rain. “Keeping people safe, Maam. Saving lives.” He said, putting the sheet down on top of the beams to create a roof to keep the rain out from inside it. He’d built it up against a ruined wall with no other purpose. People had already snuck inside to get out of the rain, taking sheets with them to keep warm. He patted the roof of the make shift shelter. “Just like you said, Maam”
A level 5 Solo Lurker!

Kineas

The sense of confusion Ienis had been feeling earlier was getting worse.

While working with the cleanup crews and keeping civilians from entering areas that could still contain too much dust in the air (those work areas were relegated to automatons) Ienis found himself collecting some shards of metal. Not too often, but occasionally he would come across a bit of metal that seemed familiar. He had come across three so far, one of which had a bit of blood on it. He was keeping them in a separate pouch for now, intending to take a better look at them later when he had time.

"I'm sorry sir, but this area is off limits to those not partaking in rescue efforts." He addressed the unfamiliar face that was heading this way. There had been quite a few people earlier who were capitalizing on the tragedy. He had to keep the area safe, and the area wasn't exactly safe for people anyways.

(( ooc - I'll leave whoever it happened to be open just in case anyone wants an invitation to post more x3  ))

Geradine

"i'm a healer, i could be needed in there, sir." Gerad pushed past the guard quickly and moved into the area, moving towards the center af the area, ignoring the rain, and somewhat unsuprised to see what looked like the same automaton creating shelters along the edges of the area.
The view from behind a scope puts everything into perspective.

There are many things you can tell about a person by the way he/she writes. -me, i think.

Kineas

I wouldn't be standing guard and doing cleanup if there were people who were in danger of death, but I guess I can't just tell him that. Ienis didn't pursue the somewhat pushy stranger. Chances are pretty good I'd be in just as much a hurry... although by now I imagine everyone who was injured and still breathing has been relocated for treatment. Still, you never know, and if he's a healer he can probably take care of himself.

Nevermore of blood ravens

Sasha went back to his studio, or rather the ruins of what used to be his studio and began the long process of salvaging what he could of his art and tools. He sighed as he surveyed the damage and began to move the rubble out of the center of the room.

Kineas

It wasn't too long before the latest event of  this calamity reached Ienis. When his relief for his post came, it was all he could speak of.

"Hey, any ideas about what happened?"

At first Ienis was at a loss. "Happened to what?"

He was filled in quickly. A night theft with no signs of a struggle or even any signs of entry. "We don't even know where to start with this one. It's a real mystery, that's for sure. Hey, when you go over there let em know the captain sent ya."

It was times like this that Ienis wondered if he was really being helpful or if he was being taken advantage of. "Uh huh. Thanks." Of course he would have gone anyways, but it still irked him. Nevertheless... he headed out towards the storage sheds. Something on the way caught his eye, however.

Isn't that the automaton that was covered in blood the other day? Unless they had made a new #183, he was pretty sure it was the same one. Ienis decided a quick stop by wouldn't hurt.

"Pardon me, #183? You don't need to stop what you're doing. Who was the lady that you were carrying yesterday?"