The Fulcrum

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» Making our Descent [PRIVATE]
Fri Mar 14 2014, 01:01 by ZODON_THE_UNBOUNCEABLE

» Business as Usual [Open]
Sun Mar 09 2014, 21:11 by Guest


    Making our Descent [PRIVATE]

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    Making our Descent [PRIVATE]

    Post by Guest on Sun Mar 02 2014, 21:58

    It was not a pretty airship. It looked like a bus, and flew like one too. It was an old prewar bomber, sort of. Where it's wings had been, now were two heavy lifting flight bladders. The ship wasn't fast but the taped together engine in the back of the ship got them where they needed to go, most of the time. Richtor was sitting in the maps room. Being an alchemical scribe made him the most qualified to read navigation charts. Maps are easy compared to alchemical glyphs. When he heard the sound he was trying to figure out how far the rust bucket would go on the limited fuel it had left. It sounded like a bomb going off right outside. When Richtor looked out the window he saw the starboard pontoon had a large hole in it, where a patch had been. Oh no... When he looked at his instruments Richtor saw that the Airship was losing altitude fast. I really hope there's a place to land around here. He grabbed the map of the area they were in and ran up towards the cockpit.

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    Re: Making our Descent [PRIVATE]

    Post by Guest on Sun Mar 02 2014, 22:39

    There was a crack like thunder, and Barlow jumped before he remembered that they were skimming above the cloud line, and these were no conditions for lightning. Next came the guttural grinding of dying machines and the screech of tearing metal. Smoke was billowing from the starboard side of the airship, twisting into the open air behind them. Pieces of metal flung by the explosion had skinned part of the hull. That was all he could gather from a cursory glance, but if it was all, then he saw no need to worry. He had kept a vessel upright through more than this. He looked over the gauges. Fuel was leaking. Cabin pressure was in decline. Altitude was dropping. Now, he saw need to worry. "Uh..." Barlow frantically flicked the altitude dial, "No... no, please. Don't do that. Stop. Stop!"

    The wheel jerked and shuddered as the airship trembled in the sky. "Okay, you're no help..." he murmured, keeping his eyes on the horizon.

    Richtor came in with an old map clutched in his hand. "What's the situation?" the pilot asked as their view was lost in the dip below the clouds, "I mean, aside from the part I already know."
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    ZODON_THE_UNBOUNCEABLE

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    Re: Making our Descent [PRIVATE]

    Post by ZODON_THE_UNBOUNCEABLE on Mon Mar 03 2014, 01:08

    As the clouds cleared up around the cockpit of the rickety airship, a human-like figure could be faintly seen standing in the view of Barlow and Richtor. As the airship cleared the cloudline, the figure's full form could be seen. It appeared to be a man wearing a oxygen mask and an old flak jacket over a camouflaged uniform with gray, white, and blue stripes, all of which was soaked to the bone with water. In one gloved hand it clutched a thick cable that led to somewhere else on the ship, and in its other hand was a large welding torch that had a flickering blue flame emitting from its tip.

    The figure glared angrily at the two men in the cockpit of the descending airship for a few moments, as if it was some kind of grim reaper dedicated to harvesting the souls of post-apocalyptic aviators. After a few moments, the figure began to walk along the airship's hull, its heavy footsteps resonating inside as it slowly approached the hatch that led to the cockpit.

    There was a hiss, followed by a blast of cold wind as the figure opened up the hatch above the cockpit and dropped down behind Barlow and Rictor with a loud clunk, a side effect of the magnetic inserts built into the man's boots. After closing the hatch that led to the outside, the man known as Murdoch hastily peeled the oxygen mask away from his face and removed the wet and bulky flak vest, letting both hit the floor by his feet with a soggy thump.

    "Whoever said that clouds were soft and fluffy can go die in a chemical fire." said the mercenary in an irate tone as he deactivated his boots set down his welding torch on a nearby bench, shivering slightly from being drenched with water from the clouds. "They are nothing but cold, wet, deception."

    Nodding to Richtor, the man grunted. "So, Mr. Navigator, how much longer before we can land this thing? I welded down what I could out there on the port side, but unless we get this flying coffin stationary, I can't make any long-term repairs..." Murdoch trailed off as he raised his index finger to the ceiling of the cockpit, as if trying to point at the sound of tearing metal. "What is...what is that noise?"

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    Re: Making our Decent [PRIVATE]

    Post by Guest on Tue Mar 04 2014, 12:49

    "Well," Richtor began "something exploded and now we're falling out of the sky through a rain storm into a mountain range with no where to land...Unless you knew that then I have nothing" Richtor spread the map out in front of him and studied it. With more than a little panic in his voice he said "There isn't a settlement, an airfield or even a flat piece of ground for miles." Richtor looked out the front windows of the cockpit into the storm. They might be below the clouds but the rain was still obscuring their vision. But through the rain and mist he could see something huge floating above the mountain tops. Awesome, now I'm Hallucinating. Does that happen right before you die? Probably... It would explain the flying city...Why can't my crazy death vision be something cooler...like a dragon, or lasers...

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    Re: Making our Descent [PRIVATE]

    Post by Guest on Tue Mar 04 2014, 15:28

    Barlow looked out the window. The smoke had dissipated, but one of the air bladders was flapping in the wind, half empty, with a visible gash in its fabric. "We've lost a bag," Barlow announced, "I can turn up the air flow to maximum on that one to keep it inflated, but that won't buy us much time. We gotta set down somewhere soon, or we trade in 'setting down' for plummeting."

    Barlow peered through the windshield, straining to see anything through the weather. "Looks like you're wrong, Richtor. There's a plateau right over there near the mountains." He focused, and as they drew closer, there was a brief clarity in the air before him. "Wait..." he paused, focusing on the obscured object hidden in the fog of the mountaintops, "That's... that's not a plateau," his eyes went wide as the realization struck him, "Oh my god... it can't be..."
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    ZODON_THE_UNBOUNCEABLE

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    Re: Making our Descent [PRIVATE]

    Post by ZODON_THE_UNBOUNCEABLE on Fri Mar 14 2014, 01:01

    Murdoch was relatively upset by the news of their gradual freefall out of the sky. "Dammit!" he fumed. "I knew I'd end up dying like a chump as a result of hanging out with you two...especially you, Rictor, but I didn't want to die like this! Urgh!"

    The mercenary spun around to face the windshield with his hands clenched into his short hair, about to make another berating comment when he saw the large object that seemed to be nestled into the fog of the mountains that were coming up.

    "Well I'll be damned..." he mutters to himself. "Maybe we're not going to die like chumps after all."

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    Re: Making our Descent [PRIVATE]

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