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Purity Damaged (Hiatus)
http://coursesite.uhcl.edu/HSH/White...tes/utopia.jpg By Miss Chevious and Tachigmai The discovery of a massive power source drives a team deep underground. What they discover is beyond their wildest dreams. Will they really destroy this beautiful city for that power? Tachigami's Characters: Character Name: Adelina Age: 86 years (appearance relates to around mid-twenties) City/Location: Hitu Appearance: Adelina Job: Greeter of newcomers, guardian and historian Job information: Adelina is head of a large welcoming committee that greets strangers and newcomers to their world. While for several centuries there have been no visitors, the committee still stands as necessary. In the event of a meeting between them and a stranger, Adelina watches over them, tells them of the city's history, answers questions should they have any, and help them along until their departure. Basically, Adelina acts as an escort, and stays with a specific group or number of people wherever they go. Height in Society: Her actual status has been unknown for several years. Adelina isn't her given name, and she lives in a small cottage in a glade hidden by the energy-powered forest that spans miles outside the city. Her real name is still known throughout the city, however, as she was once a part of the royal family before vanishing for more modest work. Personality: Friendly and usually around to help, though she's not terribly outgoing and prefers small groups to large community; Adelina is rather soft-spoken, Not easy to upset, but at times can be concerned with what others think. Abilities: Adeline can, of course, fly, given her wingspan and the strength of her wings. She is able to pull energy out of the plantlife that grows, keeping herself alert, awake, and energetic and at the same time, not killing the plant. Talents: Her painting skills are unsurpassed; the way she sees her world is detailed and intricate, and almost surreal in certain instances. Bio: Adelina spends her time painting beautiful scenes both from her imagination and of reality. The paintings tend to be sold throughout the city, and in certain instances, she is recruited by the royal family to create tapestries of their city, palace, and various family trees. As she changed her outward appearance and name when she left home, they don't know who she is. Adelina's flight is powerful, usually more than most others. She doesn't fly but on certain occasions, however, when she needs to traverse the city and outlying town quickly, or gain perspective not many else can for her paintings. She can recall scenes with startling detail, making her paintings worth quite a bit of money. It's unknown why she never talks about her family; most speculate she's just secretive, and there's nothing wrong with that---however, others wonder about her presence, limited past, and the missing member of the royal family. These speculations never become more than that, though. Character Name: Sheila Seridano (also known as "Firestarter") Age: 27 years City/Location: Below the Atlantic Ocean Appearance: Sheila Job: Demolition and Navigation Job Information: Sheila is a bit of a pyromaniac, making her perfect to use her intelligence in fire and explosives to clear paths for the team she's a part of (and a very large part of). This role was given to her after she already obtained position as navigator, and her hardheaded disposition didn't allow her to decline one for another. As she is both navigator and explosives expert, she travels at the front of the team at all times and tends to see things before most of the others. Height in Society: At one time Sheila was a fire safety instructor before getting involved with a large power company, who later found a source of massive, unknown power. Now she's a main gear in the machine, so to speak, in the elitist team being sent to locate and obtain this power source. Personality: Sheila's a rather rough girl, learning such talents from having only brothers, then growing up around rough crowds and getting along more with men than with women. She'll always have her say, will rarely take no for an answer, and doesn't even conceive the possibility that she'll be beaten down without a hell of a fight. She's sarcastic and energetic, though can become eerily silent when angry. Abilities: Sheila can make fire out of anything flammable and not waterlogged. She's got a keen eye and startling sense of direction, even underneath the waves. She's light on her feet and nimble of hand (which on many occasions saved her from losing a finger or two). Talents: She can organize a team in moments, intimidate even a powerful man with a few well-chosen words, and has developed a new explosive that reacts with a light electric charge, giving it an instability so unpredictable it could go off with an accidental static charge. Bio: Sheila grew up in a low class family with six brothers and a tough, military-involved father. Her mother was overworked, but had a steel heart that rubbed off on her only daughter. Throughout her youth Sheila (nicknamed Firestarter by her male friends and, now, colleagues) had a mean streak that's somewhat rounded out now, but she's still always ready for anything, especially a long fight. Her favorite mode of transportation, outside her own ultra-strong mini-submarine (issued to her specifically, as were the others) is a massive tank-like vehicle with twelve-foot steel plated silicon-rubber tires and a roomy cockpit with shatterproof glass windows. Sheila usually avoids the few women on the mission. She's a bit too rough and blunt for most of them. She is, however, friends with most of the men, though some, due to their arrogance and blatant stupidity, she cannot stand (and she tells them). While she is one of the few in a rare power seat, she doesn't use, nor abuse, this power. At least, she doesn't use it often. Sheila knows right from wrong. Good from bad. Obviously what she's doing is good; it'll bring endless possibility to billions of people... Right? |
Characters, yay~
Character Name: Raelan Jillrei Bruella Age: 36 (Looks late-teens/early-twenties) City/Location: Hitu Appearance: Raelan Job: Royal-in-training Job information: Not a particularly 'official' job, per-say, but he insists that he has no time to waste on anything menial. He spends a lot of his time studying, learning whatever he can to ease his ascent to the top when he gets the chance. Much of this includes simply wandering the city - listening to the people, getting involved with whatever he can (a lot of 'volunteer work', being that it's good for his image and an easy way to keep up to date on things), and making connections for himself. He's highly ambitious, and while he isn't cruel or mean-spirited, he isn't above some slightly 'under-handed' methods here and there. His silver tongue is his most useful tool, gossip his weapon - collecting and spreading whatever he can to 'lighten the competition'. Height in Society: The eldest son of one of the leading noble families - at an age where his opinion could be heard and considered, even if it wouldn't have too much weight. Personality: Confident, ambitious and charismatic. He wields smiles as tones as one may a shield and sword, both to protect himself and, if necessary, to wound others. He very rarely looses himself to emotion, and is widely regarded as a genuinely nice, easy-going guy - much of his mischief and gossip impossible to trace back to him in the long run. Unfortunately, he's also managed to gain quite the sense of superiority 'playing' with people like this over the years, even if he keeps a lid on it as best he can. Abilities: Flight, obviously~ His 'Silver Tongue' isn't completely natural either, he has a way of subtly charming his words to 'encourage' the reactions he'd prefer in others. Nothing obvious or powerful, but enough to vaguely influence reactions. He's as careful as possible with it, as it's extremely easy to resist if one figures out he's doing it. Talents: A skilled photographic memory, aiding him mostly with reading, but also has a bit of talent with remembering faces, spoken words and layouts. It's also helped him gain an uncanny accuracy with projectiles, one that's certainly under-appreciated - he mostly uses it to bounce small objects like pebbles off unsuspecting 'victims' when bored, or when he wants the attention off himself. He can work a crowd like no other, a combination of the above-mentioned 'charm', natural charisma, body language and a knack to always find and collect information to his advantage. Small Bio: A problem-child even at a young age, Raelan was constantly testing limits - both his own and the people around him. How much he could get away with before any negative consequences, especially, along with how well he could keep his emotions in check around others. Even before he knew just how he could use it to his advantage - he was simply fascinated with people and emotion. Of course, this 'study', along with his photographic memory, quickly turned him into a 'quirky prodigy' instead of a problem child. Spoiled for much of his life and highly talented for the remainder of it, his ambitions and pride completely skyrocketed - believing he could have anything he wanted and be anything he wanted when he put his mind to it. Character Name: Mresilla 'Sil' Verlest Age: 43 (Claims to be 30.) City/Location: Below the Atlantic~ Appearance: Sil Job: Scientist, Doctor Job information: Heavily focused on various Earth Sciences - Geology, Oceanography, Atmospheric sciences, etc. Basically a planetary-expert. Highly invested in exploration of the unknown. Studying medicine was mainly a result of the lifestyle she chose to lead, but never-the-less, she made herself into a rather decent field-doctor. Also something of a historian, though it's only a passing fancy or a hobby, not as an expert. Basically, the woman to call when the planet decides to throw you for a loop. Height in Society: Fairly high - more then enough to be well-off for the rest of her life. She was born into wealth and has more then enough degrees in various fields of science to ensure some of the best jobs, she simply chooses to be at the forefront of things instead of sitting back where it's safe and comfortable. Personality: Assertive and to-the-point, almost to the point of being brash. She's fairly good-natured in general, but doesn't really have a functioning brain-to-mouth filter of any sort. She never hesitates to say what's on her mind, and she usually has quite a lot to say. Rather spoiled, so she expects a good amount of, well, life in general to just... go her way. Even if she doesn't actively think she's above anyone else, her habit of getting excited over subjects she's interested in and spouting off what she already knows makes her come off as something of a know-it-all. Abilities: Luck. Enough that it probably qualifies as an ability. Anything from avoiding pitfals by a dime and accidentally ducking out of the way of unknown projectiles to finding exactly what she needs when she needs it and stumbling into all the right people. She's rather used to improbable, ever-fortunate turns of events around her, to the point she practically expects it. Talents: Lots of various tidbits having to do with her fields of study, such as easily being able to accurately identify the properties of the earth around her (how fragile it is, how thick, how tough, etc), lots of knowledge in elements and chemical reactions, along with oceanic biology and currents and atmospheric patterns down to fairly accurate predictions of the weather up to hours in advance. Her talents in dressing wounds and treating illness and injury are rather forced (she doesn't really have much interest in anatomy), but passable enough to become certified (even if she refuses to use her skills outside of field work). She can also sew, and has a habit of not wearing anything she hasn't 'prettied up' first. Small Bio: She grew up as spoiled as a child could be. Practically raised as a prized doll instead of a kid, she was constantly surrounded by wealth and beauty, both people and objects. Never denied what she asked for and provided with everything she never new she wanted. But also never able to take a step outside her home. She was a sickly child, and her over-protective family only worsened it, keeping her in as tight a bubble as they could. By the time she got over her illness, she was dangerously vulnerable to nearly every other sickness out there, her immune system absolutely terrible from disuse. Determined to be able to live a normal life, she decided to become a doctor. It took her years, mostly due to lack of interest, making it nearly impossible to concentrate properly. She began spending her days outside under the veranda, slowly but surely contracting sicknesses she was vulnerable to, much to her parents' horror. By the time her immune system was stable enough to support her and she had enough training to survive if it failed, she was already a young adult. Frightened and angry that so much of her life had been wasted, she burned to be able to see the world that was kept from her, and her passion quickly grew into an obsession as she began to study it. Eventually she forced her way onto various exploration teams despite her still rather frail body, mostly because her growing good fortune was widely regarded as a good luck charm (though often she just turns her good looks against any unlucky males in command positions, really). |
Usually the crew's quarters would be separated male and female. But there were only a few females on the team; Sheila didn't mind the layout at all---she got along with men far easier than with women, after all, and bunking with seven other guys was more like home than anything else. She'd been sitting on her top bunk since they left the surface; apparently they didn't need her navigational skills quite yet, and her mass stock of explosives would be pretty useless until they found the system of caves they were looking for. It was about time they'd set off, too. She'd applied for this position months ago, when the idea of self-sustaining natural energy had been toyed with, then cemented, and a team had begun to be formed. Few were quite as acceptably adept as Sheila in navigation and explosives. She plugged in the last charge of a simple pipe bomb and smiled at the result. There were no explosives in it---in way of gunpowder, she had substituted torn fabric. It was her quickest assembly yet, though, and she was proud of that. Uncrossing her legs, Sheila hopped down and onto the floor, lined with a metal grate that really seemed necessary in the submarine taking them most of the way to their destination. "Firestarter, Cap wants you in the control room!" Calvin, chief engineer and repairman, stepped in. He was middle-aged, with graying black hair and a couple missing teeth from previous accidents on the job. "Says it's urgent, we might be going off course." Sheila squeezed the bridge of her nose. Really? She had to be notified just as they may or may not be going off the set path? They couldn't have done so... maybe, before? "You good?" Calvin asked. "Yea, get out. I'll take care of it." Sheila huffed; her voice was a bit hoarse from smoke damage, having happened several years ago during the placement of a poorly-rigged explosive device. She'd been trapped in the building it was meant to demolish, and the resulting fire had greatly damaged her larynx. It didn't damage the ability to use her voice, however. Before she made her way to the control room, she deposited the fake pipe bomb in a random bunk for whomever slept there to find it. |
Mresilla, to be clear, did not like submarines. Or, at the very least, she did not like this submarine. She was raised to believe that sleeping even in the same room as another man should be saved for marriage. Sure, she found that idea ridiculous now, but it doesn't mean she was prepared for this! She was of the opinion that shoving seven men in one room together was a recipe for disaster in the first place - expecting them to sleep peacefully? Irrational! But really, she just wanted some space of her own again. Space that didn't wind up with pipe bombs dropped into it like some war zone! Was that really too much to ask for? Just one expedition with more civilized company, for once? She knows she shouldn't complain, she really shouldn't - she was lucky to be a part of this in the first place. But it riled her delicate sensibilities never-the-less. Especially knowing very well just who was responsible for it. She'd been excited to have another woman on this trip with them, at first. The feeling faded within the first few days. '...it wouldn't be armed... would it...?' Sil honestly didn't know what to expect when it came to the girl, she really didn't. Sure, she very much doubted she'd be making actual bombs on a submarine, but for all Sil knew the thing could be filled with flour or goo or any other manner of messes to drench the room in. She really didn't know the first thing about bombs. And yet, the prospect of sitting (however uncomfortably) next to the bomb was still better then the unsettling idea of using someone else's bed. She's seen how some of these workers sweat! And smelt, for that matter. So, she resisted the urge to go find their resident explosives expert and, instead, settled down as gently and carefully as she could on her bed, as far away from the bomb as she was able. Just as carefully reaching over the device to grab one of her books, she settled down to wait for the [[I like smaller text, obviously, but feel free to say if you'd like me to leave it normal sized, I know some people get annoyed with it. xD]] |
When Sheila stepped into the control room, she was presented with the pilot (and commander of the team) and co-pilot, and a couple engineers. "Incompetence in the control room?" She asked, snatching the paper map from the co-pilot. The area showed a bit of Hawaii in the high right corner, and a highlighted circle that presented them with fifty miles of open water to explore, along with a bright red dot where the cavern location had been discovered. "Not human incompetence, I tell you." The co-pilot, Atticus, an old, bearded man said. He was quite eccentric, and the one to give Sheila her nickname "Firestarter". "I'm not even relevant right now." He lifted his arms and leaned his chair back. Sheila sighed. "Whatever. Do you have the laser active?" "Laser..." One of the engineers muttered. Sheila stared at him as though he'd gone crazy. "The proximity laser. It makes the ship show up on radar, and it feeds information back to the computers, telling you how far away from something you are or what something is." She reached forward, onto the control panel, spied a red button with the black outline of an eye on it, and pressed it. From the viewing monitors a series of green beams of light shot off into the dark blue of the water. "Much better. Now it'll be able to give you coordinates." Sheila said, folding the map. "Set the ones we've written down and it'll begin leading you, but you've got to steer the nose in the right direction." She took a notebook out of her camo-pants and flipped it open. "Here." She gave it to the captain and pointed. "Set these numbers. We'll have to dive deeper in about an hour, and gradually descend for another two after that." With a sigh, Sheila turned and left the control room, heading back down to the bunks. Her heavy steel-toed boots clunked on the metal underfoot. She passed a few regulators, the chief engineer, and the two cooks (who were men with little cooking skill at all), and finally made it back to the bunks---though now she wasn't alone. Not as she had been, unfortunately. One of the only other females on the ship, going by the name Sil in place of her actual name, was oddly situated in her bed, and it took a moment for Sheila to catch why. The empty pipe bomb. She tilted her head to the side, letting her black pigtails flick over. What use was there mentioning it? She took it up and unscrewed the top, taking out the small bag of rags. "A bomb needs explosives to go off, just so you know." She said, and set the things under the bunk, along with some battered old suitcases. Then she hoisted herself up onto her mattress, fopping back and digging a small book from one of her other pockets and flicking it open. Just ignore her. Sheila's thoughts told her as she flipped to the right page. Why was it she had to be so near someone she didn't get along with at all? It was probably the worst part of this trip. |
Mresilla heard her coming a good amount of time before she actually saw Sheila appear in the doorway, and it was all she could do not to look expectantly over at the door when the other arrived. She merely glanced up as she came closer, only the smallest of frowns portraying her annoyance and discomfort. It grew, however, when the girl spoke. "'So I know'..?" she muttered to herself - quietly, but not impossible to hear, and her tone was obviously rather incredulous. She let out an irritated huff of air, snapping her book shut and uncrossing her legs, her posture unconsciously tensing and straightening in irritation as she moved to set her book aside and start spreading out her bedding (as she kept it neatly folded when not in use). "We're approximately three-thousand meters under the sea, with another four or five thousand meter dive into the Aleutian Trench below us, and you still expected to calmly mess around with a possible bomb? Untrained civilians should not go messing around with anything resembling an explosive device, let alone on a submarine with two dozen others." Finally getting her bed in order, she rose her head to look over at Sheila. Only for a moment, enough time to throw a teasing, "Just so you know," back at the girl. And then she was settling into her bed and turning on her side away from her - and even laying down her posture was picture perfect, back straight and hair meticulously perched in a high bun. She grew up with high standards, taught to behave as if she was always being watched, always judged, always tested. She didn't really know how to relax, at this point in her life. [[I just sorta threw the depth and trench in there at random, I could change them if you had something else in mind~]] |
((The depth and trench is just fine with me! Of course you have just as much power over the RP and its naming as I do)) Sheila tossed a half-glare, half 'are-you-kidding-me?' look over the cover of her own book. She'd propped herself up on her pillow with her sheets balled up under it, and had one leg thrown over the side of the bed, swinging in the air---growing up around six brothers and a military father, she'd never really had much of a female figure in her life. Even her mother was more manly than usual. But she had to shake her head. "Only a damned fool would even conceive the possibility that I'd actually make an explosive device on the submarine." She scoffed. "My test runs always contain fabric instead of explosives." Besides, in a pressurized tube, one couldn't even light a match, let alone actually fiddle around with plastic explosives, dynamite, nitroglycerin, PETN, and TNT. It was stored at the back of the submarine, separated by power of explosion, and under lock and key (a key which Sheila kept around her neck at all times). Irritated, Sheila shut her book and sat up, digging around in her pockets. She brought out the map she'd used in the control room, along with a few papers she'd copied coordinates onto. Glancing at the watch on her right wrist, she considered the time it would take to get to the cavern. It was located at the very bottom of the Aleutian Trench, a massive thing, but still too big for the actual sub to fit into, and far too winding to navigate safely. Which was what the pods were for. They fit at least three comfortably, and could haul up to fifty tons of weight apiece. Sheila had her own, and it would be used to carry her supplies when they got to the cavern. Judging by their rate of descent, Sheila considered they would reach the cavern in a little more than twelve hours. Whether they would be able to get out of their pods and use the land vehicles, however, was a different story. No one had managed to get through the mouth, however, as no one had been prepared enough to venture in. "Thirteen hours wouldn't be out of line." Sheila muttered. Slightly lost in her thoughts, she hadn't thought much of speaking aloud, until she glanced sideways at Mresilla. Oh, how she hated spoiled little brats. Hated, hated, hated! She ground her teeth at the thought of where the girl came from. Whether or not she'd worked for what she had now, she didn't have to, and it obviously took her a long time to get to where she was. Of course. High class children didn't usually have much of an attention span. Her eye twitched at the thought of around thirteen more hours. |
[[Hah, I think it's actually a real trench. And an approximate accurate depth for said trench. Or at least Wikipedia says so. ;P Also, sorry this is a bit short. :/]]
'Or maybe someone who believes you to be a damned fool!' Mresilla thought rather cruelly, tensing as if to prepare to say the exact words aloud. She caught herself just in time, though, and she was honestly shocked at the venom laced in the thought. This girl didn't deserve that much. Had she really been about to start spewing insults like she was some petulant toddler again? And that language! The submarine must be getting to her. The cramped space, the lack of privacy, the lack of decent night's rest. It was wearing on her more then she'd like to admit. She'd much prefer hiking across mountains or weathering through the snow - even if such activities were hard on her body. At least she wouldn't be going stir-crazy. She took a deep breath to try and clear her head, bringing one of her hands up to massage at her temples in hopes of keeping the stirring headache at bay. "Nevermind. I'm just tired. If you'd please refrain from using another's sleeping arrangements as a dumping grounds for your toy- your tests, I'd appreciate it." Well, at least she was trying to be nice. Or at least civilized. It was unfortunate that she didn't really have much practice in doing so. She hadn't even turned to look at Sheila, and just pulled her blankets a bit higher when she was finished speaking, trying to force herself to get the rest she needed. The other girl's last words were ringing in her head, though. 'Thirteen more hours. Thirteen. Thirteen more in this horrid contraption. Just pray everything goes according to plan and it's not more, Sil.' |
((Well, it's good to use real places usually, isn't it? Makes it more realistic when it's set in our world)) Sheila's lip involuntarily curled as Sil spoke. She could feel the dislike thrum between them, and Sheila herself didn't mind. She liked disliking. Mainly those she could so easily screw around with. A clean, proper, trimmed type like Mresilla was so simple to target. She didn't necessarily set traps for the girl, but well-placed items really set it off and forced Sheila to swallow her laughs for later. And Sheila wasn't the only one to do so. She'd seen it plenty of times despite their short time on the sub. Just about every guy she got along with just fine. She even called them friends. Even that other girl, Rena, a mechanic, was easy enough to get along with. But Mresilla... Mresilla. The name alone made Sheila want to grind her teeth. She snorted at Sil's tone when she spoke, almost coughing the laugh out before she could steady herself. "Public sleeping arrangements." She said. "Means you don't know what's been there." She paused, thinking. "Actually... I saw Guy put his old workroom boots up on your mattress while searching for some socks a couple hours ago." She folded her map and pocketed her copy of the coordinates. "Welp, I'm off to the mess hall while you laze around. See 'ye." She did a half-assed salute and turned, clopping out of the bunks and through the cabin to the mess hall. Being around Sil without anyone else was a real strain. It proved to be as a slight stinging headache took root right at the base of her skull. With a growl she brushed her bangs away from her dark green eyes and flopped herself down at one of the round tables, which seated seven. From the farthest wall the scent of simple but heavy food came drifting toward her and the few others seated around her. Guy Williams, another mechanic of Jamaican origin (despite his very Americana name), Calvin, and his younger brother (and electronics technician) Pete. Guy greeted Sheila with a bump to her shoulder. "'Sup, Firestarter?" He asked. "Lookin' worn out." "God, no." Sheila sighed, running her hand over her hair. "Well, a bit. People just piss me off." "I hear that." Calvin reached across with an outstretched hand. Sheila returned the move, grabbing his fingers and pushing away as he mimicked. "Must be one of those girls, knowing you." "And you know me too well already." Sheila raised a brow, then let the conversation go toward their location and plans after reaching the trench's bottom. |
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