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Entering Elysium



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Mon Sep 28, 2020 11:04 pm
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ThePatchworkPilgrims says...



Thick layers of smoke clog the air as a salty-breeze blows in from the promenade. Other than the gulls overhead and waves before, not much else makes noise. Far in the distance across the water, just out of eyesight for a human, the Pale is slowly eating away at this part of Elysium, its pace only slower than humanity's own destruction of itself.
Beside the coast, the city of Revachol, the city of fallen tyrants, mobrule and disco, slowly wakes up after a long, hard night, unknowing of what today, or any other day from now, may bring.


* * *


Greetings, and welcome to Elysium, or at least one part of the greater Elysium. This story begins in the run-down, beaten-up city of Revachol, on the continent/isola of Insulinde, one of the six interconnected "continents" drifting about in the ever-growing Pale, a vast empty void only few skilled travelers know how to traverse. Below will follow some basic details on the city, basic plot(s) and character information.

The Setting
Revachol_Vista.png


As mentioned above, Revachol is essentially a glorified ruin city. Formerly the capital of a tyrannical, insane monarchy, the city was the epicenter of the Antecentennial Revolution (this world's version of a communist/anarchist revolution),which decimated the city, and deposed the former power structures (before the revolution collapsed itself, as all things eventually do in Elysium)
Now the city is under the special control of the Insulinde Coalition, a disparate group of factions working "together" to keep stability as much as possible. The police/military force are the RCM, or Revachol Citizens Militia, but in most of Revachol, especially the outer parts, their authority is ignored and vigilante/mob justice is the norm.

The city itself is divided into districts, but the SB will start in Martinaise, a neighbourhood of the Jamrock disctrict effectively for the rejects/outcasts of society, "ruled" in effect by the Dockworker's Union bosses.

Map of the Jamrock District of Revachol
Spoiler! :
Revachol_-_Jamrock_District.jpg


The Setting mainly in the Martinaise and The Pox neighbourhoods, but your characters may come from other neighbourhoods as well. Precinct 41 is the main "station" for the RCM officials


Plot

Unknown to almost all but the most learned people (and almost none of them ever come to the Jamrock district, and even less to Martinaise) the Pale, essentially a "tangible" void, is devouring this continent faster and faster everyday. The closer it gets to civilisation, the more it... alters people's minds to become more aggressive/prone to irrational behaviours, which unfortunately gets put off by most people as the effect of drugs/alcohol.
As such, when people start going missing, especially the homeless and children, most people don't notice.
But our characters aren't most people. Our characters may be anything from a down-on-their-luck RCM official (police officer), or an ordinary Dockworker, or a mechanic or librarian, or even another teen/kid, but the point is that they have started realising something is happening in Martinaise, and they must find a way to stop it.

Characters

Other than being set in a different world/universe, this world still is your usual human only world (there are races like Asian, African, etc, even if this isn't our world, but for simplicity sake we'll just say those terms actually exist in this world too)

The world is like a fusion between the 1960s "Disco" era and the 1980s era of fashion, but in Martinaise that isn't as prevalent (unless your character still holds out hope for a better life again). With regards to the city itself, as the name Revachol suggests, this is basically like a French city, in a different universe.

Any "normal" job you can think of existing between the 1960s-1980s in our world exists in Revachol as well, but in Martinaise (as the harbour neighbourhood) the most common is fisherman/dockworker (hence the Dockworker's Union "controlling" this neighbourhood like the mafia)

Character Slots
(Since this is a potential LSS Registered Ship, we will only have four slots available at present (the fifth is for ourselves))

Character 1: Charles Trudeau (@ThePatchworkPilgrims)
Character 2: Taro Rosenbloom (@RadDog13579)
Character 3: reserved for @Lia5Giba
Character 4: Sofi Chen (@PrincessInk)
Character 5: Open

Character Sheet
Code: Select all
[b][u]Name:[/b][/u]
[b][u]Age:[/u][/b]
[b][u]Gender & Sexuality:[/u][/b]

[b][u]Appearance:[/u][/b] (also include their preferred outfit(s))
[b][u]"Day Job":[/u][/b] (if you're teen/child, just say what your character tends to do during the day)

[b][u]Personality:[/u][/b] (Remember- Martinaise is the neighbourhood of the forgotten/outcasts/fugitives of society. So no straight-A, perfect-in-every-way people live/work here)

[b][u]Short Backstory:[/u][/b]

[b][u]Why do they care about the disappearances:[/u][/b]


* * *


Rules

-Since this is a potential LSS Registered Ship, all LSS rules apply to this SB (we don't wish to become a Pirate vessel, but yeah)

-Where you can, please try and invent unique ways to "curse". We don't want to bump up the age rating just so people can curse.

-Don't ever harm another user character without discussing with them first. The Pale may be causing us to act weird, but don't go psycho on someone else's fun please.
Former incarnations have been:
TheWanderingWizard
TheClockworkConjurer
TheIllusiveIntellect
TheSunderingSorceror
And, TheMaieuticMesmerist


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62 Reviews



Gender: Ace
Points: 911
Reviews: 62
Mon Oct 19, 2020 10:18 pm
ThePatchworkPilgrims says...



Charles Trudeau

Allons-y!


“Wake up! You’re going to be late for your shift!”

Charles was woken by a sudden jolt as Alice shook him awake. Living in a bolier room had the unfortunate side effect of not actually having any windows, meaning Charles often overslept if Martin or Alice forgot to woke him up. Sitting upright, he instinctively ducked his (still half-asleep) head to make sure he didn’t hit it on the pipe that ran above his bed. Rubbing his eyes, he took a few seconds to wake fully, before looking round the room.

Though originally quite small, the boiler room the three of them called home felt like it had grown tenfold in the years they had been living there. There was, of course, the actual extra room which had been “added” when one of the walls had broken, revealing an old hideout (from the revolution) on the other side. They had since converted that room into a bathroom/storage room, which in turn led to more space in the main room itself.

Beside the bottom end of Charles’ bed, Martin was still sound asleep, his glasses on the ground under his bed to keep them from being stepped on. Though he didn’t go to school (kids in Martinaise rarely did) he did deliver letters for the Independant Telegraphers Union, and got lessons in “science” from a paraplegic lady who came to Martinaise every week with her husband (who was a cryptozoologist, whatever that was)

A meter or two away was their dining table and “chairs” (more like glorified crates), on which stood two bowls of porridge, Alice already eating hers (Martin’s porridge was still in the pot on the gas stove they used) Walking over to the table, Charles sat and started eating his porridge.

“Remember to pick up some beans from the corner store on your way back later,” Alice said as they ate. “and some flu pills. It’s gonna be winter soon, so we need to stock up on meds again.”

“I will. Mister Evrart wants me to deliver a parcel to Frittte’s (the corner store) as well, so I’ll do it then.”

“Okay good. I don’t want Martin to get as sick as he did last year.”

They finished their breakfast in relative silence, the only real sounds being the boiler (they had all but become immune to its noise), and Martin’s steady breathing. Finishing up, Alice washed up the dishes as Charles went to the bathroom to wash his face with some cool water, and to get dressed in his Dockworker’s uniform (it was kind of a “one size fits all” type of uniform, and since the largest workers were very large, the uniform fit easily over Charles’ casual clothing) They didn’t have a large mirror, but in the cracked one they did own, Charles tried his best to make his hair look better.

Saying goodbye to Alice (she’d stay at their home until Martin woke before heading off to her workshop), he stepped out into the cool autumn morning, heading up the outdoor stairs to reach the street that ran between the apartment building and the sea. A thick fog laid over most of the bay, the small islands and opposite end of the bay completely covered in this white blanket. The apartment building stood on the end of one of the three bay “peaks” that made up the shoreline of Martinaise (the other two were on the border with the Pox district and in the harbour respectively)

Turning left, Charles walked down the street passed several smaller apartment buildings, all of them bearing the scars of the revolution that passed decades ago. He continued walking for about ten minutes, before veering off into an alley between the DCA and a neighbouring apartment building. The Martinaise Business Complex (otherwise known by locals as the DCA or Doomed Commercial Area) was an apartment-like building which used to be filled with various... unique upstart businesses, of which only three, a bar, a bookstore and Alice’s dice workshop, remained. The general theory was that the building was haunted or cursed, but some other people (like Alice) blamed capitalism and bad entrepreneurial instincts instead.

Continuing down the alley, Charles came to an open yard, split in two by a fence (the side he was on was unowned. the other side was used as a garden/play area by some of the more decent kids in Martinaise) Ahead of him, on the far end of yard, was the tall exterior wall of the Docks, seemingly unclimbable to most. However, Charles headed straight for the wall, before suddenly turning right into what at first appeared to be a derelict house. Inside, he moved a sheet metal plate aside to reveal a small steel door locked with a padlock, to which he had a key. Passing through, he came to the long, cramped (and all but forgotten) service ladder he often used to get into the Docks without interacting with “Le Montagne”, the giant of a man who guarded the employee entrance to the Docks (and always intimidated Charles)

Coming out on top of the wall (beside the unmanned guard post. Unmanned like almost all the wall guard posts), Charles took one final look out over the foggy bay, before making his way down into the already busy container yard, completely unaware of what events would change his and a few other individuals’ lives forever...

Spoiler! :
word count- 900 words
Former incarnations have been:
TheWanderingWizard
TheClockworkConjurer
TheIllusiveIntellect
TheSunderingSorceror
And, TheMaieuticMesmerist


Proudly [They/Them]
  








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