One-Shot - Tangent 5 - '16'

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Rising_Dusk
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One-Shot - Tangent 5 - '16'

Postby Rising_Dusk » Sun Sep 13, 2009 7:33 pm

Notes

SPOILERS FROM THE MOVIE '9' FOLLOW

This is a tangent based upon the story '9', a movie that recently hit theatres. I am starting this tangent because I feel that the universe behind the movie was bloody brilliant and that the characters were genius, I just feel that the movie was rushed and didn't get the attention it really deserved in the design stages.

The only characters that are the same as they were in the movie are 3, 4, and 7. The others (1, 2, 5, 6, 8, 9) can all be changed as necessary, but I will likely redesign them myself and use them as NPCs for the purpose of the RP. If you want, you can also go above 9 into 10, 11, 12, 13, etc. since we are not limited by the story in the movie with the scientist. Please don't pick arbitrarily large numbers, since that kind of negates the real "cool" factor behind the characters. I think here at this forum, we can probably cap out at 16 and be OK. If we need more than that, just count up from whatever the highest we have is, but start with 10, 11, 12, and go on from there.

Anyways, cheers and stuff, hopefully this gets some participation. :)

The cold breeze swept over the abandoned chapel. He stood on top of a worn and partially broken cross mounted upon the roof of one of the chapel's towers, looking out over the shattered landscape. In the distance was a large bastion of metal, looming menacingly above the desert before it, as it portending of events to come. Behind him was the broken and crippled once-city of some name that had long since been forgotten. He had never had the opportunity to learn more about was once here ever since she took the twins and left the safety of the church against his will. He sighed, knowing that one day he might get the opportunity to ask questions, but that day would not come soon.

His right arm clattered in the wind against the metal of the cross, the sewing needles mounted to the crossbow on it bouncing back and forth gently with intentional slack. He looked down at it, examining the implement and making sure in a few short seconds that it was in proper working order. Thread arched across his back and hooked into one of the holes in an unmounted sewing needle to serve as a grappling hook when needed. The metal, spring-loaded crossbow itself was composed of an old pen casing broken down to a smaller size, the spring inside it, and the locking mechanism. The pen's hook, once used to attach it to the pocket of a much larger being, was now sewn into his arm so that the implement could not be removed or knocked away. He clenched his fist and then let go, being careful that the safety was on so that he wouldn't misfire a needle. After verifying that the machine was indeed intact, despite it not having been used from his last check mere minutes ago, his eyes drifted upwards slightly...

He now looked down upon his right shoulder and in an instant, the reality of the moment flooded back to him. The black marking inked into his pockmarked, burlap-sack shoulder was etched so deep that it seemed to have existed before even he had. The symbol carved was upside-down to him now, but he knew well what it said, for it was what the rest had called him since the day he awoke to life seemingly by magick. It read the number 5.
"I'll come to Florida one day and make you look like a damn princess." ~Hep

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Re: One-Shot - Tangent 5 - '16'

Postby Kaome Sky Deathand » Mon Sep 14, 2009 12:47 am

The ammo box had served him well during the Aftermath.
That, at least, is what he was choosing to call the current situation of the world outside his box. Not only had the metal walls protected him from the scourging winds that ripped across the Forsaken Grounds, another coined term, but from prying eyes. The beast was out there, always watching, always waiting, always hungry. Twice he had met it in the Killing Field and twice he had turned it off the hunt with skill and blade and sheer luck. Twice he had returned to his box, in victory...however small.

True, he was not alone in his exile.
He had been visited many times by a scavenger of the Wastes. A female from another tribe that seemed divided. She spoke often, telling him of what she had seen, bringing to him an unlimited supply of fresh parchment...and the opportunity to spar, to ensure the skill with his pike and armblade was not dulled by the scratchings of his fingers.
Burlap and leather, the details she mused once. His burlap body, with an over case of black leather and a sash as well, Was taller and broader than hers, crude but efficient. Where as she seemed stitched with care, he was clasped with metal bindings, the same metal that made his articulated hands and functioned as his eyes...the very same that criss-crossed his mouth. He could still speak, but it was often clipped short.
By his table, an upside down 'ardine can, sat the tube that held his collection of maps and schematics of inventions still unmade, of things still unbuilt, of dreams not given life. Beside that, leaning against the steel wall, was the metal and wire bound implement of his wrath given form. A pike, or halberd as some would call it. Steel, honed to a fine edge.

He dipped his right middle digit into black ink once more.
The pool of murk sat in a small thimble that had been caked with the murk so as it would not leak. Hanging above his makeshift table, ringing as they gently smacked the steel shell he called home, was row upon row of silver rings. Each ring tied to the next down the line, these in turn marked with a simple 1 a 2 and a 3. He had born witness to the power of those rings, those Keys, with his own eyes and harvested them for his own defense.
His latest design sat half-finished on the table, the hole in the top of his home that served for light was cut off by clouds. He paused for the moment and shut his eyes from the world.

Mindlessly he rubbed the area under his left eye with a digit.
Marking the stark black XIII that in turn marked him.
Cruor Vult

Hope, it is the quintessential human delusion,
simultaneously the source of our greatest strength, and our greatest weakness.

Soon we shall be One...joined in the Word.

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Re: One-Shot - Tangent 5 - '16'

Postby Jericho Veronus » Mon Sep 14, 2009 9:41 am

The fingers of a single hand snake around the edge of what was once the concrete boundaries of a small house. Soon followed by two darting eyes and he checked to see if the coast was clear. Darting from his place of hiding, he swiftly made his way towards a pile of rubble to scavenge for anything of use, which to him was actually a rather loose term.

His size alone, apart from the bulk of the various objects he carried and wore, should have made him easy to pick out, even at a distance. Though his attire consisted of twisted metal and scraps that sustained no discernible pattern, so if he stood still he could ultimately look like a junk heap, rather than a living being of rather warped design. It was easiest to see him for what he really was only when looking at him head on. His face, torso and left arm were really the only noticeable pieces of burlap cloth that remained, and on either side of a crudely sewn tear running from both shoulders and down the center of his chest were two number 1's. Aluminum caps, small cuts of metal and wood, and wiring of steel and copper run along the lengths of his entire body, covering certain entire areas altogether. And strapped to his back, causing his to constantly remain in a hunched form, was a large source of energy from the before times, still containing its creator's markings, "Dur_cel_". He learned to harness the source's power, running hooked lines of wire from it to a small metallic contraption engulfing his right arm.

Searching through the debris that lay around him, he would every so often put wire or bits and pieces of all manner of materials into a separate pile off to the side. Gathering the new pile in his arms, he looked around once more before scurrying back to his former place of security, in order to set to work.
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Re: One-Shot - Tangent 5 - '16'

Postby Jericho Veronus » Tue Sep 15, 2009 1:47 pm

Flipping a small piece of metal 11 kept tucked into some stitching on his side, he cut the rope slung around his shoulder. The Dur_cel_ fell to the ground. He shot his head around the corner to make sure the sound hadn't been loud enough to alert anyone or anything that may have been in ear shot. Returning,he twisted the wires hooked to the energy source and the metal contraption on his hand kicked to life. A bluish white light sparked from the tip and he picked up the first piece of scrap from his pile.

Sliding the spark down one edge, it began to glow as well. He picked up another piece and began soldering the scraps together. With each piece he added,he picked up the pace a little bit,until the last pieces he added all almost simultaneously, ending his final result with a curved glowing piece of additional armour for the ever changing carapace that made him who he was. He ripped the crumpled,rusted piece from his shoulder but suddenly regretted it, as he fail to dettach the straps and ripped the seams holding his arm on.

It wasn't the first time, as 11 considered these simply to be minor details that he would over look time to time. He sighed and just looked at it for a second before finally removing the straps and separating should plate from the arm. Replacing it with the new plate, 11 re-attached his whole arm and shoulder guard. He checked his range of motion,and once satisfied he picked back up the Dur_cel_ and tied it once again to his back.
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Re: One-Shot - Tangent 5 - '16'

Postby Rising_Dusk » Wed Sep 16, 2009 5:30 pm

The rain had begun in earnest.

5 slipped back inside the window of the chapel tower just before getting drenched at the sudden torrent that now assailed the city and its chapel, his home. He retracted the needle from the ledge of the window, frustrated that he'd have to replace it as it was weaker in such a wet state. That would be okay, though, 2 always kept such implements handy. He had even procured an odd instrument that blew hot air out of it, air hot enough to dry wet matter. His exclamation of 'Eureka!' earlier this very night suggested that he may have discovered how to make it portable as a weapon of some sort.

He attached his second hook-needle and fired at a wooden crossbeam of the tower a story below him. *SCHICK* Testing the line with his weight to ensure security, he leaped down in an arc and swung neatly into a door below him, landing softly and quietly, as if he'd done the same action thousands of times. He was the only member of their group able to reach the top of the tower, currently, a subtlety of being him that he relished tremendously. He reeled in the needle he'd just fired, checked the line for punctures (there were none), and fixed it again on a hook in his aluminum-can, right shoulder plate.

5 walked down the hall he had landed in, looking about in a very nonchalant and usual manner. He could hear heavy breathing at his right, but was not alarmed by its presence. 6 had the innocuous habit of stalking after anything that moved about the chapel's halls at this hour. Whether or not he rested his eyes and mind were unknown to 5, because no one had ever actually found 6 doing so. Further down the hall, distracting him from 6's strange, yet familiar, behavior, was a lighted room in this rafter area of the chapel.

"You trying to kill yourself again, 5?!" came a commanding voice from inside the room.
5 sighed, knowing well that he'd have to explain his actions tonight on the roof, what 1 considered suicide, for the thousandth time. Of course, he always tried to convince 2 to go out in the streets alone and unarmed, so one can only imagine what he intends to have happen to --

"JUSTIFY YOURSELF, BOY!" 5 had just reached the threshold to what 1's 'throne' when this call was made.
"Calm down, 1, I was just ensuring that the perimeter was clear of any threats, surely you can respect the need to be safe..."

This answer, despite having been given time and again, always seemed to appease 1. However commanding he was over the group of them, he was always paranoid that the chapel wasn't safe or was prone to being attacked by the beasts. This sort of reassurance made the likelihood of either reprimand or an exile practically nonexistent.

"Yes... There is that. Good work, then. Have you seen that big oaf around? I've been calling for him for hours!"
The oaf in this case was 8, a heavily armored burlap behemoth who had never been given a mouth with which to communicate. No one questioned his strength, though, he truly was the brute force behind the lot of them.
"No, 1, shall I go look for him?" 5 didn't exactly want to look for him, but he was hard to miss and an excuse to wander the halls sounded great at the moment.
"Yes, yes, you do that. Bring him here at once!" 1 bellowed this last thought out as though a direct order.

5 sighed again and turned his back to 1. 1 rested back down in his chair, cradling his chin in one hand and holding his lightning rod staff in the other. 2 had taken 1's old staff and turned it into what it was now, something that could shoot bolts of lightning when a button on the side was pressed. Quite an impressive work of craftiness, but benign tinker 2 had never recognized prior to the upgrade how 1 would use it later against its maker...

5 stepped from the chamber and turned immediately to his left and down a flight of stairs seemingly designed for one of his size. 8 would likely be guarding the front door and be utterly incapable of hearing 1 from his 'throne.' All the while down the stairs, 5 could only think about what she was up to at that very moment...
"I'll come to Florida one day and make you look like a damn princess." ~Hep

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Re: One-Shot - Tangent 5 - '16'

Postby Kaome Sky Deathand » Wed Sep 16, 2009 7:59 pm

"I can't believe I got stuck here in this weather."
The rain whipped by the ammo box, trying in vain to snatch away the plastic tarp XIII had tied down to spare the metal siding of his home. 7 stood by the entrance, speaking into the wind.

XIII slowly turned his head in the direction of the female voice near the entrance to his residence.
She suddenly stiffened up and half-turned to look at him.
"...uh...I mean..."
XIII chuckled, a rich and deep sound, and shook his head.
"I knew what you meant...just giving you a hard time about it."
Again he dipped his right center digit and again he scrawled on the parchment she had so swiftly delivered. The current design was a cylindrical containment shell for the pile of lethal metallic objects XIII had stockpiled in another container nearby. He was working on a way to bridge the two with a series of rooms and tunnels cleverly designed to look as nothing more than heaps of junk. He only had a few more holes to conceal in the line.

She was staring out into the storm again.
He knew without looking up where her gaze was.
"If what you tell me is true...they will be fine for the duration."
"I know..." she answered. "...I should still be there with them."
Again he dipped his finger and again he scratched out lines, his hands mere implements slaved to the will of his mind. It was almost as if he couldn't write things fast enough for his mind's liking. Lines were formed and blurred with varying levels of detail. Small numbers and based projections on what it would do and serious flaws followed as his eyes took it in. Like most of his kindred, XIII was blessed with ghosts of memories and knowledge he couldn't possibly have, as well as an innate knack for building things from the salvage found across the desolated land. In his particular case, it was a great overwhelming need to build an elaborate yet fitting place that he, and indeed others of his ilk, could call home.

The small things, like the sheltered light inside his box or the weapon he was currently working on, were side projects.
After all, what was the point of building a home if you could not defend it from the beasts in the hills.
Cruor Vult

Hope, it is the quintessential human delusion,
simultaneously the source of our greatest strength, and our greatest weakness.

Soon we shall be One...joined in the Word.

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Re: One-Shot - Tangent 5 - '16'

Postby Rising_Dusk » Wed Sep 16, 2009 10:42 pm

There he stood, alone in the rain as though a statue. His huge frame was at least twice as tall and twice as wide and deep as 5's. He stood in mute defiance of all causes and all reason. He existed to serve and served to exist. That was all there was for him, that was all there ever would be for him. His three blades hung, singing against the rain, crying out for the taste of oil and metal flesh to sear through. Two of the blades across his back, one on his right and one on his left, were the sides of a once-pair of scissors. There were many dents in each where the weapons had cleaved apart their targets more as blunt weapons than as cutting blades. 2 makes an attempt to sharpen them when 8 comes inside; they cut so much cleaner when their edges are honed properly.

The centerpiece upon his back was the length of his entire body. It was a single blade, about as thick at its base as a large paperclip and as wide as a pencil. The blade had been the mainstay of 8's arsenal since before he had even awoken from his slumber. He knew before he had awoken that the blade was there and what he would have to do with it. It was as much his future as it had been his past.

His head was covered in a large thimble with two slits taken out of it for him to see through. It had been painted a dark gray from wear and tear, much like the steel plates he wore over his chest, back, shoulders, arms, and legs. He made no attempt to conceal himself under his metal shrapnel, he had those implements to be used to prevent oncoming damage. How he managed to move at the speed that he does with all of that weight was beyond 5, he truly was a force of nature in his own right.

The rain fell upon his statuesque frame and he ignored every drop. He was aware of 5's presence before 5 had been aware of his. It was his job to be aware. The great behemoth finally turned towards 5 as 5 had just contemplated walking out in the rain to get his attention.

"8, 1 has summoned for you.." The words seemed almost hollow, as 8 had nodded before he'd even finished talking. The titan knew what was coming, it seemed, and began hulking back towards the entrance of the chapel. Before stepping in from the rain, however, he turned his head back to the dark night and scanned the horizon one last time, as if he had heard some inexplicable chirp and contemplated chasing after it as though a tiger after a gazelle. Satisfied that nothing was out there this night, 8 ducked in order to not hit the top of the door and walked up the stairs towards 1.

5 continued looking out into the rain, knowing that somewhere, someone else was doing the same...
"I'll come to Florida one day and make you look like a damn princess." ~Hep

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Re: One-Shot - Tangent 5 - '16'

Postby Jericho Veronus » Mon Sep 21, 2009 8:16 pm

As the rain spattered the ground outside his shelter, it began to soak the roof as well. Slowly but surely,the cardboard began to sag and droplets began to appear within. Unaware to this occurrence until it hit him,literally,11 switched his gaze from the opening to the ceiling above him. He looked up just in time for another drop to splash onto his face.

"Wet!"

11, while extremely mechanically inclined and inventive, lacked an extensive vocabulary. Though for any one word he uttered there were a hundred thoughts behind it. Stepping out of the water's path,he stepped into yet another. He grumbled and dragged himself towards the back of his shelter, where a rather large pile of scraps sat.

Throwing bits and pieces about,he finally found a slip of a tarp like fabric. He wrapped it around himself,fastening it with some wire to form a rudimentary poncho, and stepped out into the rain. A thunderclap shook the ground around him, collapsing the soaked box shelter behind him as he trekked away in search of a more permanent structure.
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Re: One-Shot - Tangent 5 - '16'

Postby Kaome Sky Deathand » Wed Sep 23, 2009 2:43 pm

"The road goes ever on and on..."
7 perked up form her silent vigil over the downpour, turning her attention to the tune XIII hummed. It rose and fell in an alternating rift. The first line climbing while the second line would gradually fall. Every so often he would throw in some words, as if the tune was once something he knew but had long since forgotten.
"...down from the door where it began..."
She took a step towards him, glancing at the images he drew on the parchment, not really making much in the way of heads or tails of it. Whatever it was, it held XIII's attention, he didn't even glance up at her when she stood over his shoulder. He kept humming the tune, rising and falling, his head bobbing along to the natural beat of the falling rain.
"And should my path join a larger way..."
"...well wither then? I cannot say."

"What are you singing?" she asked a little low.
As if asking was to intrude.
"Hmm?" XIII responded.
"I asked what you were singing."
"Ah...I don't know." he replied.

A moment passed as he continued to work and she looked on after him, even more confused and wary about him than before. Finally she turned away and resumed watching the sky release its tears...staining the ground with its ageless sorrow. She leaned against the side of the ammo box and under her breath hummed the same tune XIII struck up again without even realizing it.
Cruor Vult

Hope, it is the quintessential human delusion,
simultaneously the source of our greatest strength, and our greatest weakness.

Soon we shall be One...joined in the Word.

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Re: One-Shot - Tangent 5 - '16'

Postby Rising_Dusk » Wed Sep 23, 2009 5:10 pm

"5, 5! Come quick, come quick!" came a scurried voice from beyond the entrance of the Chapel, interrupting 5's staring into the rain. It was 2, and although the voice sounded strained, it was by no means fearful, rather excited.

He rushed inside in the direction of the voice, never really knowing which way to turn except to follow the direction of the loudest echoes. Half-lost, he stumbled into a workshop of mechanical terror. Upon the walls were husks torn from machines that had long since attacked the chapel and been felled by its defenses. Limbs from these fallen beasts hung from the domed ceiling hooked and intertwined by fishing line. At the ground level, cauldrons filled with bubbling pitch and tar surrounded by assorted mechanical bits and bobbles cover nearly the entire floor. Carefully stepping over and around these doodads and electrical trinkets, 5 navigated his way to 2, who was currently hovering over a workstation as though he had brought a creature back from the dead.

2's backpack was overwhelming. Because of all of the electrical and mechanical components he carried with him in his pack, he was constantly hunched forward to maintain his balance. The pack was wrapped in a leathery composite and held together by wired stitches in order to shape the leather into something that could actually carry anything. 2 was an old soul, even older than 1 despite being the second to awaken. His being old made him humble and wise, and these traits played across his face like the pages of an open book. Behind the large, geared and motorized telescopic spectacles, his eyes peered out at the world as if constantly seeing it for the first time. Below his hunched form, his hands had all but been replaced utterly by mechanical appendages. He had long ago realized the ineptitude that came with clumsy pen-stroke fingers and saw it necessary to craft himself more precise implements to handle his equipment. His entire right arm had gone the same way as his hands, having to be entirely replaced by a series of interconnected metal shafts and cog-joint systems after an unfortunate encounter with one of the mechanic monstrosities that now hung upon his wall.

"Come, 5, look at this... I may be able to fully replace your crossbow with this technology..." muttered the burlap tinker to a rightfully stunned 5. Before him was a piece of metal fully hovering in the air without any strings or supports of any kind.

"I found this strange concept that seems directly related to electricity flowing through wire... It has the power to levitate and project metals at high speeds." 2 had mentioned this before, noting that some of the mechanical beings he'd collected used this as a means to fire their projectiles.
"I think I will call this effect Teslism..." 2's obsession with the once inventor, Tesla, led to many things being invariably named after him in some form. The twins, before leaving the chapel for good with her, had given him a book about the man, which now stood like a sacred artifact against the back wall in the only area of the workshop not covered in oil or other such grime.

"I seem to recall you calling this something else before, from the book..?" 5 chimed in, trying hard to remember the exact word that 2 had once used.
"Oh yes, I believe you are correct.. What was it again..?" 2 hobbled over to the large book and carefully flipped several dozen pages before resting upon one with the large header reading "Magnetism."
"Magnetism! Yes! Brilliant! 5, I will get right to work on your new attachment! I'll need two long rails, distanced from each other by the width of a needle..." 2 muttered to himself gradually quieter until 5 could no longer distinguish the words being used.

5 stumbled out of the workshop, nearly knocking a large glass eye off the wall on his way out. He looked left and then right at the exit, wondering which way would lead back upstairs. He had a question to ask of the illustrious one...
"I'll come to Florida one day and make you look like a damn princess." ~Hep

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Re: One-Shot - Tangent 5 - '16'

Postby Jericho Veronus » Wed Sep 23, 2009 7:11 pm

It' wouldn't at all have been difficult tracking 11, had one been trying, especially as the rain turned the usually brown,dusty ground beneath him to a pitch black muck. Not only did his feet sink in slightly with every sloshing foot step,but the bits and pieces of once mechanical contraptions that he felt he could use at a later date dragged along behind him, drawing a path in his wake.

His stature and armaments caused his head to somewhat slouch and he found it much easier to just let it hang as he trucked along,his eyes towards the ground. Every once in a while he would stop, look up and turn to a certain degree, and then pick at the his chest stitching before continuing down his new direction. The picking of the stitches had been a habit that stuck with him, ever since he came to one day and they had appeared almost overnight,without him ever knowing exactly what had happened. It was his only mysterious modification that he didn't seem to realize a purpose for.

The stitches weren't the first time he became conscious after an unknown period of blackness, his metallic arm had been the first followed by plating on the soles of his feet the second time, and though he couldn't technically 'see' what had been done, the third time he awoke to find his eyes were able to without a doubt pick out scenes from far distances with extreme detail. While all of these seemed to benefit him, the stitching upon his chest baffled him.

In addition to the seemingly disadvantageous alteration, this was the first time he awoke in a new location. The prior three, 11 had woken to find himself almost exactly where his world had gone black. He had always been a wanderer, always on the move, but he at least felt security in knowing how it was that he got there.

For a brief moment 11 thought he had heard the sound of music from a direction somewhat ahead, the sound of someone singing. Though as quickly as he picked it up, the rain began to pour harder and drowned out any evidence that it had ever existed.
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