The Furry Forums
Creative Arts and Media => Roleplay => Fun RP => Topic started by: Rayleonarde on July 17, 2016, 11:26:52 AM
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Welcome to Galia, a nation locked in a dangerous, violent war. Two companies, though to call them sovereign nations would not be far off, the New Trade Company and the United Skyway Transit are at war. These massive companies have divided the nation in two, civilizations pledging soldiers, materials, and land to support the ongoing war.. Each company has, however, begun hiring mercenaries and gifting them the airship of the mercenaries own design. Gas balloons and heating vents, massive propellers, or even harnessing the dangerous material Float (a VERY unstable, gravity defying stone, ground to dust and placed in tanks, lovingly called Floaters). The loadouts of these ships, the crews, and even fuel are provided, as long as you're doing your job. But, that aside, welcome to the war.
Cordoned off in one of the few Gentlmen's Zones, New Meridia was used by both companies to hire recruits, pay mercenaries, and generally try to bolster their own numbers. The high-rise buildings did little to obscure the two massive ships that seem to be locked in a staring contest. The NTCS Warmonger and the USTS Titus were some of the largest ships in the fleets of the New Trade Conglomerate and the United Skyway Transit respectively. Each was armed to the teeth, and itched to knock the other out of the sky. However, the Gentelmen's Zones scattered about the nation were standing agreements handed down at the beginning of the war. Garret C. Tormer, CEO of the New Trade Company, had met with Kormik J. Sadere, the CEO of United Skyways Transit. The two gentlemen, after a bout of dueling, decided war was the only way, but each required locations from which to gather their arms. And so, places like New Meridia began to rise, as each company pitched in to gain population, which in turn gave them possible soldiers, pilots, engineers, whatever they needed to keep the war going. A bus pulled up to the Recruitment Depot dropped off a fresh batch of furs, looking to join up with a company, or make their riches by salvaging and independent warfare.
As the fresh batch entered the terminal, it was clear just how divided the land was. A young basset-hound stood smiling, in a suit of crisp, crimson silk, offering each passer-by a pamphlet describing what exactly the United Skyways Transit company stood for. Just a few yards down the way, a grizzled silverback stood in his finest dress uniform, telling the potential recruits all about the New Trade Company's outlook on the world, and the good they planned to do. Each pitch-man was trying his hardest to sway potential recruits. At the back, however, stood another fur, a good-looking bat dressed in a deep purple suit, offering those who passed a ticket on the CTS Keller, a large airship that was at one point armed to the teeth, but now the de-clawed ship was used as civilian transport, taking anyone to any city they so wished, for a modest fee of course.
This is where you, dear player, will start.
You can start as a fresh recruit, finally looking to join in the war, a veteran captain looking for a crew, a crew-member taking R&R, or whatever else you think'll fit. Perhaps you're looking to see the sights and travel the globe.
Anyway, here's the skinny in case the description above was foggy, Airships! is a diesel-punk style RP wherein two companies fight for control over cities, factories et cetera. Your story here is your own, you can start fresh, have some history, whatever you wish.
Rules:
No magic, BUT species-based whatevers are fine (ie certain dragons breathe fire, or have wings, or both).
This world is locked in a pre 1920's world, so everything's got a WWI flair to it (if this doesn't make sense, just search up 'diesel-punk' to get an idea.)
Your ship can vary in size, from a one-man fighter plane to a 20-crew dreadnought.
Weapons include the standard WWI affair, but configurations are of your own design.
Character Sheet:
Name:
Age:
Occupation: ((Recruit, Captain, Crew-fur, Mercenary or whatever else.))
Clothing (off-duty/rest):
Clothing (on-duty/active):
Weapon(s):
Bio:
Extra:
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Character Sheet: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/19526479/ (http://www.furaffinity.net/view/19526479/)
Name: Razuel Dracon
Age: 21
Occupation : Firepower slave (Basically he's been captured for his sheer power. Controlled by an assortment of shock collars)
Clothing (off-duty/rest): strong leather mitts on his paws
Clothing (on-duty/active): strong leather mitts on his paws, a heat resistant metal muzzle with lock
Weapon(s): Breathing fire, very sharp claws
Bio: Raz lived in one of the caves they had been mining the stones from and when they saw his raw power after taking out a few ships in retaliation, they eventually captured him and are now forcing him to fight on their own terms, but they thought he had needed no food and when he showed weakness, they sent him off to the main terminal in his cage to be auctioned off for a low price. The United skyway transit doesn't are who gets him as they think he's a waste of space.
Extra: He has a very faded ink marking of the United Skyway Transit on his left shoulder.
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Raz's cage sat on a platform of soap box crates and looked terrible, skinny as all heck, and looked as though he was near to death. A large crow stood infront of the cage at a makeshift podium, "So, can I 200 for this specimen? Er, 175... 150? 125? 100, come on people, this is the red scourge from the blue caves, fearsome and powerful!", the crow took out a rag from his pocket and wiped his head, he then turned around to Raz, "Act fierce you stupid lizard!", He then kicked Raz's nose and Raz whimpered and brought his paws forward to try and rub it
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A young weasel, dressed like a shoddy NTC officer, approached the crow. "Two twenty-five if you help me load 'im to my ship."
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The crow had a small gavel with them and they hit the cage with it, causing Raz to grab his head as the high bang made his head ring, "Sold, for two twenty-five!", the crow stepped down from the crates and stood infront of the weasel and held his hand out for the money, "Sure thing, 'friend'. Money first, then I'll help.", Raz groaned as his belly rumbled, his clear appearance showed that he had been poorly fed, but his body still had defined muscles.
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The weasel nodded, and handed over the cash. "This way, please."
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The crow hastily took the cash and stuffed it inside his uniform, he then pressed a button and a crane claw came down and picked up Raz's cage and as they walked along, the cage followed behind them, "So, uh... what do you have planned for 'im... er, just for curiosity sake..."
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The weasel shrugged. "Not sure, the captain makes that call. I'm just a delivery boy." As the pair neared the ship, the weasel fired off a blue flare, which was answered by a loud sounding horn.
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The crow's eyes widened when the horn sounded, "I-in a way, we're the same... B-being a delivery boy, that is... Uh, here...", the crow then handed the weasel a bulky remote, "...This is the controller that controls the shock collar on the dragon's neck.", He then pressed a red button, and Raz cried out above them in his suspended cage, "I'm going to take my leave now... the crane will follow you thanks to a little device inside the controller... bye bye~", The crow then turned around, counting the money in his hand, whistling a sweet and airy tune as he walked away.
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The weasel nodded, smiling as he tore the NTC patch off of his coat. "Cap'n Ronnie's gonna love you, dragon." A metal claw descended from the sky and grabbed the cage. The weasel leapt onto the chain, and cackled quietly as they ascended.
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Raz whimpered as the claw snatched onto cage and lifted it up, looking up at the person on his cage, and rearing back, making the cage swing in the air.
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After a few moments, the cage was pulled into the cargo hold inside Captain Ronnie Duval's flagship, the Bloodeater. A massive beast, it blended well with the other dreadnought class ships hovering around. The Bloodeater quickly sped off, and Captain Duval went to see his prize.
The weasel, soon after getting aboard, quickly made himself scarce, leaving Raz in the near pitch black hold. Each item inside was meticulously coated with fire-resistant chemicals, to keep the danger of fire low.
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Raz looked back at the closing door as the weasel left, looking around in the dark, the floor beneath his stone being dimly lit. The hold seemed dusty to Raz, and he let out a sneeze, a sorry excuse for a flame as he exhaled his sneeze, he then looked down at his belly, it rumbling whilst he did, and a mouse ran by, but was too far away for Raz to grab when he tried
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Ronnie opened the door to the hold, and greeted the dragon warmly. "Hello, friend! I'm so glad you finally decided to join us!" He grabbed the cage door, and shook it. "Be you able to speak?"
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Raz gave a soft growl, "Back of...!", he said as clear as possible through his muzzle, but stopped when his stomach rumbled, and he just uttered a single word through his muzzle afterwards, "...Food..."
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Name: Nishjin Hlao
Age: 19
Occupation: Bounty Hunter
Clothing (off-duty/rest): Black pants and a black shirt, along with a leather trilby. Wears non-prescription glasses.
Clothing (on-duty/active): See extra.
Weapon(s): A Mauser C96
Bio: Nishjin's dad had been a bounty hunter before him until he tried to hunt a certain Ronnie Duval, who killed him. Nishjin didn't know who killed his father, but in between hunts he followed clues as to what happened.
Extra: A master of disguise, Nishjin will wear whatever he needs to get his job done. He's killed a number of military generals, criminals, and others for cash and never been caught.
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I hear a ruckus from my pigeon coop and walk over to it, where I see Keith's Carneau fluttering around a little bit. The red bird didn't struggle as I took the note off of its ankle. "Ronnie Duval," I read aloud before getting ready for the day. Putting on my hat, I went out to find my informant. I had a feeling that this one would be tricky.
"Ronnie Duval? That guy's got what you have comin' to him. You'll need to get in close to him for this one Nish, no hit and runs. If this isn't a clean kill, the police won't stop until they find you." That isn't what I wanted to hear, but John was never wrong. He had given me a file and I skimmed it over until I found something.
"So you bought a dragon, eh Duval? Interesting..."
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Ronnie smiled, compassionately, and tossed a loaf of bread into the cage. "If y'come here, I can get that muzzle off."
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Walking to the docks, I stepped into my small airship, the Valkyrie.
'Says here his ship is the Bloodeater. It should be docked somewhere north.'
I raise up and go to the town where the target was supposed to be residing. After docking my ship, I find a motel and pay for a room.
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Razuel grumbled but put his muzzle through the cage bars so that his muzzle could be taken off, drool dripping from his maw as he eyed the bread
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The muzzle was removed, but quickly replaced by a full-iron mask. This mask could be pulled open to allow for food, and Ronnie made sure the thing worked as bread was given to Raz. Ronnie smiled at his new prize, and leaned on a nearby barrel. "Do y'like yer accommodations, friend? I'd imagine not. If yer wantin' a new place to kick up yer feet, I've got another place in mind."
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Razuel happily ate the bread and then perked up when he was offered somewhere different to sleep... his cage had grown 'old' for him and was rarely cleaned, he then nodded in response, still finding it hard to talk through the mask, "Yesshh..."
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Ronnie smiled wider. "Good, good." He pulled the cage door open, and started leading Raz to the front of the ship. "Didja ever want a good view of the open blue?"
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Raz tried his best to talk through the mask, "I used to have one, until you people invaded my home, and locked me in a god damn cage!...", Raz stopped and sighed, "But what does it matter, I'm gonna die alone anyway..."
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Ronnie chuckled. "I never did you no wrong." He stopped, and motioned towards a door in front of him. "Your new room." The room was finely furnished, but seemed a little off.
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Razuel walked into the room and looked around it, "What gives... Why the luxury for a practical monst-... What are you planning?"
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I walk down to the high-end docks and ask a dock worker where the ship I'm looking for is. He seems a bit surprised and says, "What do you need?"
I tell him that I need a job to work on the ship, whether it be cleaning or whatnot. I had to work up the ranks as a ship worker, otherwise I'd have to think of something else.
He picks up a device and presses a few buttons on it and seemed to be calling someone.
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Ronnie smiled, wickedly, as the door shut behind Razuel. The room fell away, as it was merely a painting on a canvas, and revealed to be a suspended iron cage. A boom-arm extended, putting the cage ahead of the ship by a few yards. "No better place," the captain exclaimed, "for a trophy than the figurehead for a ship!" He cackled, as the crew cheered loudly, and shouted again. "Make yourself fierce, dragon! You gotta give our prey a good show!"
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Raz tried to rush the door as it closed, but failed at getting out, he lost balance as the cage moved and he grew scared for his life as if the cage fell, he'd not likely survive a fall from this height, so, Raz began to thrash about the cage, trying to break free, that is until he saw the man who put him in there and he stared at him growling and then giving an ear piercing roar at him before laying down and curling up inside the cage, purposely denying any command given.
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Ronnie grinned, and waved as he walked away, speaking to no-one in particular. "Feed him once in a while. Starvation's a cruel taskmaster. He'll come around."
Unbeknownst to Ronnie, he was being followed by none other than his own brother. The much smaller ship stayed in the cloud banks, spying upon the crew and captain undetected.
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Raz's stomach grumbled and he groaned, 'So hungry...', he then saw a seagull fly too close to his cage and he snapped at it with his tail, breaking it upon impact and dragging it into his cage, using his tail to piece it apart to eat the meat, 'Terrible... but it'll do', he thought to himself
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"I'm sorry sir, but I can't get ahold of Mr. Duval. You can come back later, if you like. He's acquired some new... Property, and he may need someone to take care of them."
I scowl at the dock worker and tell them, "Look buddy, just try calling ONE more time. I really need this."
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Captain Duval's first-mate ran to him, speaking quickly. "Someone's trying to call." Ronnie nodded, walked to his cabin, and answered the phone. "What?"
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The deckhand started having a hushed conversation with the other person and soon put the phone down.
"He'd like to see you now." I followed the worker to the ship and he pointed me towards an important looking man who I walked to.
A held my hand out to shake his and said, "Hello sir. It's a pleasure to meet you."
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The extended hand was met with a crushing grasp, and Ronnie smiled. "So, who's this then?" He looked to the first mate. "Alan, did you let this'n on?" Alan shook his head. "N-No sir. I-I dunno who let 'im on." Ronnie furrowed his brow. "Well, anyway," he said as he released his grip, "who are ya, and what makes y'think you can just approach the captain?"
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When the man nearly broke my hand I could've squeezed back, but he seemed to want total respect and control if he was to hire me.
"I'm just looking to earn some money sir. I'll do any job, and I have references."
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Ronnie looked around. "Hmm...I've got a job for ya." He pointed to the edge of the ship. "Clean the keel. Also, what is the width of your neck?"
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"The width of my neck, sir? Possibly ten inches, I guess. Anyways, if you could direct me to where the cleaning supplies are, I can start right away."
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Ronnie nodded. "Ten inches, eh?" He sighed, and started away. "The cleaning supplies are over in that storage box." Suddenly, a steel collar locked around [Nishjin]'s throat, a small remote charge seated on the back. Ronnie turned when he heard the clasp close, and smiled. "If you're gonna work for me, the collar stays on until I trust you."
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My eyes widen as I feel the cold of metal grasp my neck. I turn around, about to object, but I remember what I'm here to do. This collar is a good test to see when he trusts me, and when I can get closer to him. So when I open my mouth, instead of an objection, I introduce myself. "I'm Nishjin, by he way, sir. Glad to be here."
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Raz's stomach grumbled when he smelt some food drifting up from below, and then looking up at a crewmate walking on an external walkway, uttering a single word to them, "... Food..."
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Ray, Ronnie's brother and slave-cook, looked around. He looked up at Raz, and frowned. "I-I'm s-sorry, I can't..." The pot he carried was a simple soup, but was aromatic nonetheless. Ray scuttled off quickly, taking one last glance at Raz before walking into the cantine.
Ronnie nodded. "Good, then you won't go against my orders." He walked into his bedroom, locking the door behind him.
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As my 'boss' walked away, I note how paranoid he seemed to be. I get the cleaning supplies and do my new job diligently, knowing that I could very well get fired if I don't do it well.
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After a few hours, the Bloodeater was somewhere in the desert, with nary a soul to be seen. Ronnie stepped out onto the deck, the exposed metal of which was painfully hot, and looked around. "This is the lane, I believe. Bring me the charts!"
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Raz was groaning pretty loudly at this point, having been devoid of water and food for so long, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ray and looked at them very weakly, as though he may faint, "Please... food... water...", he said in a breathy and raspy voice.
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Ray nodded, and scuttled away. A few moments later, he had a loaf of bread and a bottle of water. He jumped to the cage, and handed over the rations. "K-Keep these hid. A-As best y'can." Ray then jumped back to the catwalk, and stepped back into the ship.
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Raz smiled at Ray and nodded before going to eat the bread, washing it down with water, hoping his eating and chugging of water wouldn't be noticed by any of the crew.
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The crew took no notice of Raz's eating.
Ronnie read his charts for the third time over, and sighed. "Yes, this is the spot. We're gonna have company here soon, lads! Prep for battle and stand by!"
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After hearing that there would be battle, I run into the interior of the ship. I definitely didn't bring a weapon today in case I got searched, and I really don't feel like dying today.
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Raz barely overheard the word 'battle' and he began to frantically looking around, freaking out and shaking his cage, making roaring/whimpering noises as his cage shook, making creaking noises along with his whimpers. One of the shakes caused the cage to his the closest bit of ship to him, scratching the paint.
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Ronnie strode to the cage, and jostled the chain. "Give us a big loud roar when the traders show up, an´ maybe we'll feed ya, eh?" The massive raccoon cackled to himself as he walked away.
No more than ten minutes later, the trade fleet arrived. Two small frigates flanked each of the barges, ill equipped to fight a ship like the Bloodeater.
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Looking out one of the portholes, I saw a small ship portside and wondered what the fuss was about. Surely something that tiny wouldn't pose a threat? Then I noticed the crew were spreading out evenly across both sides, so there must be two ships. Enough reason to have a battle, I guess. When I hear the first shots being fired, I hide inside the room that had the cleaning supplies in it.
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Raz put a paw to his belly and rubbed it, "I think I can...", Raz wrenched his head back and thrust it forward, letting out an ear - bursting roar, causing the closest of windows to him shatter and break.
When Raz finished, he looked around awkwardly as the whole area had gone silent, either silent from fear or from being impressed.
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I heard a huge roar from what the dragon had been kept. Looking out the porthole I see the enemy ship scuttling a little bit, obviously intimidated. I chuckle and wonder what they'd think if they knew the dragon was here against his will.
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Ronnie watched the trading barges stop, and smiled as he shouted. "Forward guns! Open up on 'em!" Barrages from the forward facing 105 millimeter howitzers ripped across the sky, plinking off of one barge's rear armor plating. The frigates began to return fire, small 40 mm shells slammed into the Bloodeater, but didn't pierce the armored hull, giving the gunners time to readjust and return fire. The entire time, the Bloodeater cruised on, heading right for the barges.