LateNight QuickDraw SteamPunk RolePlay
 

It's late at night but you're doggedly mooning around Menewsha in search of something to do, waiting for the next attack and itching for some action.
You've come to the right thread!

Passengers and crew on a steam powered blimp are dealing with the fact that their ship is quickly losing altitude... Pop on in and play as anybody, for a moment or an hour or a few days, just have some fun and post to earn gold and event items!

Rules:
No godmodding. (ie. the ship is going to crash even if you grab the steering wheel and try to save everyone)
PG-13ness only. (Ewww, get a cabin!)
You can have as many characters as you want but keep track of where they are! (You can't teleport)
RESPECT!
Follow Menewsha Rules also.

I'll start it off...

The airship HMS Thunderbird lurched sickeningly to starboard. Claxons sounded all over the ship, hissing and whistling noises emitted from every pipe and gearwheel. The luxury airship was in chaos.
The well-dressed passengers were being hastily fitted with emergency parachutes by servants and staff who were frantic with the knowledge that they would only get to wear the same once the paying customers were all accounted for.
On deck, chairs and tables slid across the polished wood and piled themselves against the railings, fancy drinks with umbrellas in them spilled overboard and fell through the clouds to the mysterious terrain below.
In the engine room, soot-covered engineers and workmen scurried to and fro, sweating as emergency release valves spewed excess stream from the boilers. Foremen shouted orders that were not heeded.
The Thunderbird was going down.

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Ohhh, come on lurkers, don't be afraid! Everyone is welcome!

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Do we need a post to prime the pump?

In the engine room, Jesse stumbled on the sloped surface of the floor, slipping on ashy dust and small lumps of coal. One of her fellow workers slammed into her shoulder as she was off balance, knocking the small woman to the ground.
She slid inexorably down the rough surface of the iron-cast flooring, her eyes squeezed shut as she fumbled to fit her goggles over the thick awkward glasses without knocking them off. The coal dust in her short-cropped hair was shaking off into her eyes and she had to do something about it before she was running blind.
Jesse kicked herself across the aisle to one of the pumps and wedged herself against the footing to keep from sliding underfoot. Her brown overalls were completely black, and given the size of her workmates, it would be no small exaggeration to say that she could have been mistaken for a piece of coal and easily stomped to pudding.

A young man hung down in front of one of the engines. He grabbed a wrench from his tool belt and began banging on the engine to try and tighten the bolts. Sweat dripped down his dirt covered face . With a dirty rag, the 23 year old wiped the glass on his goggles and continued to work as hard as he could. He knew the ship was going down, no matter what he did, but he held onto the hope that maybe he could fix something.

"Lyre, get down before the ship crashes!" Called one of the mechanics from the floor. Lyre looked down, sighing heavily. There was panic on the floor; people running around aimlessly trying to find a safe place so they would survive the crash. Lyre was one of the few who still worked on saving the ship. It was hopeless though, and Lyre knew it. Looking down once more, Lyre allowed himself to slide down the engine. He hit the floor hard, and pain shot up his legs. He ran.

((I hope this is alright... XD))

((it's awesome!!! YAY! A playmate!))

Jesse finally snapped the googles into place on her face. She blinked away as much ash as she could and tried to orient herself in the topsy-turvy new world. A pair of boots stomped by her splayed hands. She yelped and recoiled, dark eyes wide.
"Watch where you're GOIN'!" she shouted to the retreating boots. Their wearer definitely did not hear her.
Jesse reached for something to help her get up off the floor. Anything. Her hands found purchase and she climbed up the rattling compressor unit until she once again felt like her body was oriented in a more or less vertical fashion. She peered around for anyone she could recognise in the swarm of panicked faces, her fear slowly mounting. No one was getting things back in line... they were really not going to pull out of this one.

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((I love your little white fish! What item is that?))

Amongst the panic and mayhem, one would find a strange calm in the dining area. At a table, which had been bolted to the floor as were its chairs, one at calmly at his dinner, savoring it with closed eyes as if he were at the comfort of his own home. He was a strange man dressed in white, an ebony cross at his collar as a rosary, blood red against the pure silk, dangled lightly at his chest. A long brown braid tilted and fluttered with the fall, bangs brushing against the dark skin, and he was perfectly in place even at every lurch and jerk the ship gave.

Upon finishing his feast, he stood, eyes still closed as he grabbed a book- A bible, one would recognize, provided they had calmed down long enough to do so. The man strode calmly through the raging crowd, weaving easily and avoiding being bumped or jostled. Eventually, he arrived at a large area where no one was- He opened his eyes, revealing twin pools of liquid gold, and looked around, realizing he was at the viewing gallery. Of course no one would want to be here, to see the ground they were falling to through the fragile looking glass. However, the priest walked towards it, pausing when the ship gave another jerk, and placed a hand on the cool window, looking down with a smile.

(Does this work as a post?)

((The white and black fish are from an CI called Yin Yang))

Lyre looked around him as people ran by. Several bumped into him, one almost knocking him down. Panic had struck the crowd and Lyre watched as they caused themselves more harm then good. The sound of the breaking engines filled the room. They clanked and popped at an ear shattering level.

One girl stood not too far from him. He recognized her. They had briefly met a few times before this. For he size, she was tough, and strong. She stood, the same as he, and Lyre could see the fear growing inside her. He ran to her, taken her arm. "Come on! We need to find somewhere safe!" He knew she probably wouldn't be able to hear him over the shouting and screaming of other, but he hoped that his hand on hers might reassure her enough to follow him. He knew of a place that they could hide were they would be safe. He just hoped no one else had found it first.

((Welcome Pheonix! It works great! Very mysterious :D ))

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So many calm and logical minds... melting into sheer animal panic. It made her want to cry with the realization that there was no logic, just masks covering the primeval survival instinct. She was almost ready to join in and let go of her last ties to humanity when a hand was around hers.
Jesse started at the sudden touch and felt herself cling tighter to the threads that she had just been ready to release into the wind. She looked up into the face above her and understood that he was saying something. She also understood that she didn't have to understand the actual words. The strong hand squeezed hers through the thick leather glove and she knew what he wanted to say. She nodded, eyes wide under two layers of glass and grime. She could barely tell the features of his face, but they seemed familiar. "Lead on" she mouthed, exaggeratedly.
Smoke and steam mingled in the hot, damp air. She hoped he knew what he was doing.

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((Oh, I'll do some NPCs I guess, we need more people to occupy the airship!))

On the observation deck, a small girl clung to the wall, pretty much leaning on it for the force of the tilt. She had one white little thumb in her mouth as the other clutched at the doorframe. Her wide blue eyes followed the priest with terrified interest. She squeaked a few words around her thumb, "Stop it?"

The priest looked around, noting that the viewing deck seemed like a completely different world. While he could see the people outside screaming and running through the closed glass doors, it was completely silent in the room. It felt rather distant, but he did not mind, instead returning his gaze out the window. He watched as clouds sped by, and how the sea, yes, they were over the ocean, although that could change any moment, seemed to be growing larger. He watched the details of the currents on its surface, occasionally spotting sea life.

He pulled his eyes away from the outside to look about the room, noting a bench. He was surprised to see a woman sleeping, and, curious, moved forward. He stopped when a pair of bug machines flew around her, buzzing. The bronze colored one poked her with a wrench, while the steel colored one pulled at her shirt. The woman simply waved them away and grumbled something before falling deeper into her slumber.

The woman was beautiful, he noticed, thick black locks that tightly curled, flowing around her shoulders and lightly tanned skin. She looked like a gypsy, by her crimson dress along with her black and green corset that cut off above the stomach. She didn't seem to care for her appearance, however, sprawled awkwardly on the bench and looking as if she were in the comfort of her own home- Much like he seemed right now.

It was interesting, but he, as always, returned to the outside. It was lovely, the view. Pity no one else stopped to appreciate it. It was then he noticed the child. He blinked, and then gave a warm smile to her, holding out a hand. By all means, he looked like some sort of ethereal being, the way the light from the windows hit his frame and reflected off of his white clothing, making him seem as if he glowed.

"Stop what?" He asked, voice soft, rich and oddly ephemeral.

"Fawling." The girl responded, pouting. She pulled her thumb out of her mouth with a slight "pop!" sound and wiped it distractedly on her pinafore before extending her stubby fingers out to his. Her languid blonde curls had pulled loose of her beret and bounced gently on her back with the throbbing of the ship.

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A small dark speck appeared on the horizon, a sole solid mass on the immense span of blue below the HMS Thunderbird. Commands rattled down communication pipes from the captain's cabin, and the ship jerked awkwardly, like a heron being hit mid-flight by an eagle.
The airship flailed hopefully towards land. If they could stay in the air long enough, they could maybe reach it.

The priest smiled again.

"I'm sorry, but I will not stop it." He grasped her hand gently and pulled her to him, patting her head kindly as he knelt down to her level. "Don't worry though, child. Stay here and you won't be harmed." He glanced out the window and smiled lightly while he picked up the child, keeping her from jerking about the ship.

"Just a few moments longer..." In the sky, if one paid attention, a speck in the sky was heading towards the Thunderbird. It was small, but heading towards them all the same. "See? Salvation is coming."

The child put her thumb back in her mouth, distracted by the speck in the sky and comforted by the familiar feeling of being held. "Issit a tweet-tweet?" she asked, with the air of someone who knew that their terminology was very professional and spot-on.

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((Ohhh my gooddnessss I must take a nap! I'll be back in a few hours (if that)! If anyone else comes in and you guys want to continue it, don't crash the ship til I get back! Tie balloons to it if you need to :) I have to set up the next scene for Y'all!))

The priest chuckled. "No, it is not a 'tweet-tweet'. Its something better." He glanced around and then outside of the observation deck. Still panicking, as usual. He chuckled lightly.