Post by seraph on May 11, 2008 0:08:52 GMT -5
Harper sat straight up in bed. He had been awakened by a strong jolt that nearly threw him to the floor. Turbulence, perhaps? No, that wasn't likely. The Luxembourg was far too large and well-balanced for that.
He looked around the small dorm he had been assigned. Fortunately, the lamp he kept on his bedside table had run out of oil while he slept. Perhaps that was for the best. If it had hit the floor during the jolt, it could have smashed and set the room aflame. The floor was a goregous dark hardwood, and the walls were wallpapered. Pulling the curtain aside, he saw tops of clouds in the midnight sky. They were beautiful, a sea of purple in a black, starry sky.
The Luxembourg was the military's finest airship. She was easily the largest, too, and formidable in battle. She was a heavily armed and armored carrier. She could easily accomodate a thousand biplanes and a few hundred bomber dirigbles. If Admiral Farran were to come into battle, this is where he would be, commanding this ship in safety. But the Luxembourg's real strength was in her carrying capacity. She was easily able to accomodate a thousand biplanes and hundreds of bomber dirigibles. The Luxembourg's propulsion system was top-notch too, held aloft by hundreds of colossal propellors that depended on just as many steam engines. Dirigibles were sent up daily with enourmous quantities of coal and water. But the Luxembourg could fly higher than the other aircraft in the Naval Federation, and that's where she stayed, a glittering jewel of wood and brass high above the clouds and the battle.
If something had happened to her to cause this jolt, Harper had no doubt in his mind that he would be summoned within the hour. His grandfather had drawn the blueprints from bow to stern and engineered the propulsion system down to the last rivet. Harper had inherited the engineering gene, and the time he had spent with his grandfather had given him the knowledge he needed to fix whatever needed repair.
Harper sighed and stepped onto the floor. He yawned and stretched. Another sleepless night, another sleep-starved day. He stepped over to the sink on the wall and folded it down, looking into the mirror by the light of the window. His hair was as long as the Federation allowed it to be, two inches. It was touseled too, partly from sleep, partly from the flying he had done all day yesterday. Harper splashed some water in his face to wake himself up a bit. He pulled on his brown trousers and jacket and stepped outside his room, not forgetting to pick up his toolbox on the way out.
The hallway was dark, and he turned left into it. It was narrow and lined with cookiecutter dorms, and Harper could hear other soldiers behind the doors who had been awakened in the jolt. The hall led into a well-decorated dining hall, with a luxurious mahogany spiral staircase that led to other floors just like this one. Sometimes I wonder how how this airship can belong to the military with all this pomp and circumstance. A few candelabras had fallen over in the jolt, but the room was mostly unharmed. Opposite the staircase were the double doors that led to the deck. If something had collided with the Luxembourg, it had hit her out there. Harper jogged toward the big doors and pushed one of them open. He stuck his head out.
Before he could react, Harper had a gun to his head. Someone was yelling at him in a foreign language. He could see a dirigible floating in the air next to the Luxembourg, attached by a few heavy cables. So that's where the jolt came from... He turned his head slowly to look at his captor. The man was a strange looking fellow, with a shaved head and flying goggles. He was sporting a trenchcoat and heavy boots. The gun was a revolver held in a gloved hand. This man continued yelling at Harper until another man walked up. The other fellow was dressed in similar attire, although he appeared to be of a higher rank, as his coat had different patches and a few medals on it. The language they spoke was unlike any Harper was familiar with. The superior officer yelled a sentence at Harper's captor, and Harper's captor pistol-whipped Haper.
Harper woke up in the bottom of a jail cell with a massive headache. The floor was dirty, and he could tell the craft was moving. I must be on a different airship. He could see other cells just like his across from him and both ways down the hall. Harper looked at his prison mate. "Where are we?"
<Feel free to jump in, just obey the rules.
1. Guns are allowed, but no swords. And the guns have to be primitive. No missiles or AK-47's. I'm talking about early machine guns and primitive grenades and things like that.
2. No magic, please. I'd like to keep this an industrial/steampunk type of story. I like magic and swords, but I wanna try something different.
3. You don't have to give a history or bio about your character unless you want to, as long as you let us know through his or her actions.
This isn't necessarily a rule, but if you have some ideas for a title, I'd definitely like to hear them. Thanks! Looking forward to RPing with you.>
He looked around the small dorm he had been assigned. Fortunately, the lamp he kept on his bedside table had run out of oil while he slept. Perhaps that was for the best. If it had hit the floor during the jolt, it could have smashed and set the room aflame. The floor was a goregous dark hardwood, and the walls were wallpapered. Pulling the curtain aside, he saw tops of clouds in the midnight sky. They were beautiful, a sea of purple in a black, starry sky.
The Luxembourg was the military's finest airship. She was easily the largest, too, and formidable in battle. She was a heavily armed and armored carrier. She could easily accomodate a thousand biplanes and a few hundred bomber dirigbles. If Admiral Farran were to come into battle, this is where he would be, commanding this ship in safety. But the Luxembourg's real strength was in her carrying capacity. She was easily able to accomodate a thousand biplanes and hundreds of bomber dirigibles. The Luxembourg's propulsion system was top-notch too, held aloft by hundreds of colossal propellors that depended on just as many steam engines. Dirigibles were sent up daily with enourmous quantities of coal and water. But the Luxembourg could fly higher than the other aircraft in the Naval Federation, and that's where she stayed, a glittering jewel of wood and brass high above the clouds and the battle.
If something had happened to her to cause this jolt, Harper had no doubt in his mind that he would be summoned within the hour. His grandfather had drawn the blueprints from bow to stern and engineered the propulsion system down to the last rivet. Harper had inherited the engineering gene, and the time he had spent with his grandfather had given him the knowledge he needed to fix whatever needed repair.
Harper sighed and stepped onto the floor. He yawned and stretched. Another sleepless night, another sleep-starved day. He stepped over to the sink on the wall and folded it down, looking into the mirror by the light of the window. His hair was as long as the Federation allowed it to be, two inches. It was touseled too, partly from sleep, partly from the flying he had done all day yesterday. Harper splashed some water in his face to wake himself up a bit. He pulled on his brown trousers and jacket and stepped outside his room, not forgetting to pick up his toolbox on the way out.
The hallway was dark, and he turned left into it. It was narrow and lined with cookiecutter dorms, and Harper could hear other soldiers behind the doors who had been awakened in the jolt. The hall led into a well-decorated dining hall, with a luxurious mahogany spiral staircase that led to other floors just like this one. Sometimes I wonder how how this airship can belong to the military with all this pomp and circumstance. A few candelabras had fallen over in the jolt, but the room was mostly unharmed. Opposite the staircase were the double doors that led to the deck. If something had collided with the Luxembourg, it had hit her out there. Harper jogged toward the big doors and pushed one of them open. He stuck his head out.
Before he could react, Harper had a gun to his head. Someone was yelling at him in a foreign language. He could see a dirigible floating in the air next to the Luxembourg, attached by a few heavy cables. So that's where the jolt came from... He turned his head slowly to look at his captor. The man was a strange looking fellow, with a shaved head and flying goggles. He was sporting a trenchcoat and heavy boots. The gun was a revolver held in a gloved hand. This man continued yelling at Harper until another man walked up. The other fellow was dressed in similar attire, although he appeared to be of a higher rank, as his coat had different patches and a few medals on it. The language they spoke was unlike any Harper was familiar with. The superior officer yelled a sentence at Harper's captor, and Harper's captor pistol-whipped Haper.
Harper woke up in the bottom of a jail cell with a massive headache. The floor was dirty, and he could tell the craft was moving. I must be on a different airship. He could see other cells just like his across from him and both ways down the hall. Harper looked at his prison mate. "Where are we?"
<Feel free to jump in, just obey the rules.
1. Guns are allowed, but no swords. And the guns have to be primitive. No missiles or AK-47's. I'm talking about early machine guns and primitive grenades and things like that.
2. No magic, please. I'd like to keep this an industrial/steampunk type of story. I like magic and swords, but I wanna try something different.
3. You don't have to give a history or bio about your character unless you want to, as long as you let us know through his or her actions.
This isn't necessarily a rule, but if you have some ideas for a title, I'd definitely like to hear them. Thanks! Looking forward to RPing with you.>
