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RP Archives 2005-2019 / Chonyosa
« Last post by LaoTaun on March 01, 2014, 02:48:42 PM »Ayenee System
Elysium Spiral
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Messages in an age where technology had plateaued at the deadly level where wars had begun being fought on a galactic level often traveled through subspace or through obscure webs of hival pathways; no matter the method of transmission there was often the lacking of personalization. In the days of antiquity sailors would place messages in bottles and cast them into the sea in hopes that they would wash upon friendly shores to be found by a lady in waiting. And so the bottle was cast into the astral sea, and delivered directly to the Ayenee System to find it's way to his dark orchid...
The banner of distant stars twisted and distorted as the broken hull of the Voltian II was flung from the bowels of slipstream, the uncontrolled exit pushing super-heated gases and exotic particle clouds outwards in a rippling effect as the massive battleship turned end over end sheering through real-space as the transit rift blinked closed behind it. The USI's flagship was a tomb, a bottle sealed and carrying a rather pointed message. Scorched, shattered plating peeling of it's broken 'spine' under the sheer of sub-luminal speeds; billowing clouds of escaping gases and fuels igniting at chaotic intervals as plasma fires ripped uncontrolled through corridors in the engineering sections. Some of the burn marks on the vessel's hull were obviously post-battle, drilled with the precision of close range the sigils of Lao'Taun and Pestilence super-scripted over the Umarian symbol of the Hēilóng ('Black Dragon').
While the Voltian herself laid to rest, a crumbling slumber power sources of a Umarian origin burned within her decks which permitted the emission of a single uncodified transmission through the region. The live image of the Voltian's main bridge cast for Satrinah to see. The expected image of a battle-torn vessel had been muted by what had been arranged. The bridge filled with tall pillar candles, which cast a pale flickering glow on the morbid display which had been hung from above. Hooks pierced the softer interior petals and polymers from various points in an enter three hundred and sixty degree formation from which filaments stretched the leather-like blanket of flesh which had been pulled off Marissa's suspended form. Twisted ropes of dangling innards swayed below the corpse dripping with various fluids along with blood which was caught by an elegant carpeting of black silk which had been draped over the floors. The former Vaesudan's head was tilted back, face frozen within the horrific phase that death had left, eyes boared out hallow like the endless spans of the voids - a painting of poetic justice of a deed that never should of been committed.
The image transmitted would shift every few cycles, from the dark ritualistic display on the bridge to that of the ship's Ward Room. The Ward Room was too bathed in the soft glow of flickering candles, the table set with the finest of china and treasures that could be found. Propped up within each of the seven chairs were the corpses of Norians, each wearing the old uniform of the Imperial Senate. Their chest cavities broken open, shattered in a way that the breaking points of the ribs had jutted outwards like the decorative points on a rack of lamb. Upon each of the silver plates before the gathering of dead senators was their own heart, a symbolic never to be partaken feast. Each of the Senators had belonged to the party that had challenged Satrinah's rise to Aester in Lorenz, it seemed this deed that had occurred centuries before had not gone unpunished after all.
The third and final image transmitted from within 'the bottle' was that of a polished crystalline pillar upon which a single decorative clay crucible. Within the shallow pot a single black orchid grew from a black serpent-like scale, it's pale violet petals dripping the glistening drops of moisture that showered from the modified environmental system. It was a simple arrangement with a pointed and meaningful message that would only likely registered by her.
Amplified by the placed systems on the Voltian II, the subspace calls of distant leviathans sung like that of whales; echoing harmonics being transmitted through open channels that wound reach almost ten cubic lightyears from Ayenee. As the unmistakable calls climbed towards a peak the Voltian reached the end of it's lifespan, the hull of the vessel finally reaching it's critical stress limit and buckling. In a single explosive burst the former USI flagship blew apart, shockwaves from it's destruction carrying released energies and debris across the outer span of the Ayenee System.
ʟσшεя κıтнυɢнα-ɔαмαυɔαп
вσנıпɢ'ƨ ɢεпεяαʟ ɢσσɔƨ
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[/align]
The streets of Lower Kithugha-Damaudan were quieter, weaving back alleys and the place of many shops and ventures that ranged in their legitimacy and function; they were at the depths of Chonyosa society but deeply ingrained within the very culture of the city itself. Fancy lanterns still strung from building to building, never taken down from the festival of orchids - few souls walked the street, those who did were usually apart of something more sinister or in a rush to get to whichever warmly lit window they were heading to. On one of the corners was a shoppe a bit larger than the rest, it's windows riddled with posters announcing various functions and events as well as the specials on various rare herbs, vegetables and produce within and an old sign that flickered on the verge of burning out that advertised the fine liquors within. Bojing's General Goods was a staple of the city, a place known for the strangest of visitors including members of upper society that were never expected within the bowels of the heart of the Chonyosa.
Chen, a young lad who had worked for the elusive Mister Bojing was stocking shelves as usual. He was never bored, there was always something to do from unloading shipments, to cleaning, to making special deliveries including the rare bottles of Wuliangye baijiu which were taken to the Cathedral of Cystho. Chen was not the only employee under the Bojing name, but he was the one the public seen the most. The hours of the shop were unpredictable, sometimes it even stayed closed for days ; rumors were rampant that it was the front for something bigger but those who investigated often came back with pockets full of dry rice and stories about seeing nothing short of a boring old market.
The bells jingled as the old door was pushed open, Chen was busy stocking some green tea that had come in on the last order and shouted, "Nǐ hǎo!" He was used to the usual customers who shouted back, and when there was nothing he turned his head to see the massive black military issued boots planted against the floor. His slanted eyes narrowed as his gaze scaled what seemed to be a giant, WASP-style armor and massive black arching wings which came to a clawed point just above the man's head. There was nothing gentle about the figure, build strong and obviously military - yet something powerfully alluring, hair clipped back tightly, making the masculine features of the man's face seem even more statue-like. He was something Chen had come to expect from comic books, and even with the diversity of the Chonyosa it was definitely something to see. "Eh...Can I help you?" he said, slowly rising to his feet, dusting off his apron as he felt dwarfed in the shadow of the man who had come inside.
Sorle looked down towards the young boy, "I have a package waiting for me. Special Order from the Telal Tea Company." His voice was deep, commanding and held no emotion at all. He didn't smile, daunting form towering over even the highest of shelves in the market. Nebulous blue-green eyes churning as the reflection of the child twisted within his sights. Outside a running SUV-style vehicle with government plates and tinted windows was running with two sentries standing along side of it.
Chen tilted his head slightly, "Oh, Telal Tea Company...Yeah I think we have something in from them." He smiled almost knowingly, "A shame about the rain today, would of been nice if it lasted longer." He said, "Do you have an umbrella?" He asked, first locking the shop door and then heading towards the counter, looking at the crates stacked up there.
Sorle said quietly, "The rain is never long enough, and I have an umbrella..I got it from Miss Lan." It was far from small talk, but authentication to verify him for the package. "Hope nothing got damaged in transport this time." He said, watching as Chen looked for the right package. There of course was no Telal Tea Company, but it was one of the many ways those with access to the HoL sent things back and forth. Miss Lan of course referred to the orchid herself, and the use of the umbrella symbolic within the secretive stories whispered by the Leviathans about the Second Luminary.
Chen placed the crate on the counter and stood back, "Here it is, Sir!" The young boy was curious as to what was inside, thanks to the nature of the shop he often got to see such things, and of course had never uttered a word to anyone about what he had seen or heard within the confines of Mister Bojing's establishment.
Sorle ripped the top of the crate off with his bare hands, with a man of his strength it was like plaster crumbling. The crate was rather large and inside was a sealed armored security case which he pulled out and placed on the counter. He opened the case, and a volumetric screen activated as a micro-mindhive un-linked to the rest of the combines shared it's information. After a few minutes, image after image passing, Sorle would close the case and push it back towards Chen. "Please send this back, it is the wrong kind of Tea." He then turned, giving a wave out the window towards the sentries who would get back in the car and immediately drive away. "It would appear, I am in the need of the restroom." Sorle said giving a slight nod.
Chen lead Sorle towards the back of the store, apron swaying as he walked hurriedly. He opened the slidding wooden door to reveal a sealed isolation-style access door. "Here you are, Sir." Chen said, using his access codes to open the door. It was not a bathroom, rather a small lift. He waited until Sorle was inside and then resealed the door, giving a slight nod. The building shook slightly as the lift's brakes were released, sending it zipping through the secured tunnel. Chen would then reseal the inner door and slide the wooden one shut. Once more, someone went into Bojing's and didn't return out the door from which they had entered.
sᴀᴛʜᴀʀᴜᴀ ─ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ sᴇᴄᴛᴏʀ
As the lift blazed through the tunnel system, passing security checks and evaluations Sorle went over in his mind what he had seen, the details of his mission were rather delicate. It was not a mission he would of normally taken under any circumstances but it had come right from the Luminary. The door finally opened and Sorle stepped out of the lift and into a small control room. Upon his entry the door behind him closed and the dim blue lighting activated illuminating the room. There were several control panels arranged ahead of him, to his right was a sealed armory and then another door to his left, another isolation door clearly marked as an airlock. Windows looked out into what appeared to be emptiness, the pitched black interrupted as loud electronic noises exhumed from all around him, section by section the massive docking bay was illuminated.
Within the bay was a vessel that was still yet to be fleeted to the rest of the UAR. A new class of Leviathan, and a true killer by all means - a suitable ride for a warrior like Sorle. The Satharua GX-VI Harbinger-Class Gunship Leviathan, it was one of many advancements brought forth in conjunction with the AT-GATE project. The Gunship Leviathan was smaller, more compact, roughly only two hundred and fifty meters long, and only six decks but the ship was far from anything traditional. It's glossy black hull resembled some kind of prehistoric arachnid, like a scorpion without claws and a long segmented and spiked tail that swayed back and forth as it remained stationary in the bay. Faint blue luminescent regions marked what seemed to be engines, but actually determining what was what as the chitinous-like exterior seemed to flex and transform was nearly impossible. "Hmm..." Sorle whispered, looking out the window as he packed munitions from the armory into a bag.
Sorle headed out the airlock reviewing the technical specifications of the new leviathan, soon enough they would be on their way - part of a secret and risky mission to Ayenee, to bring to motion the true Hand of Lao'Taun.
Elysium Spiral
[align=center]
[/align]Messages in an age where technology had plateaued at the deadly level where wars had begun being fought on a galactic level often traveled through subspace or through obscure webs of hival pathways; no matter the method of transmission there was often the lacking of personalization. In the days of antiquity sailors would place messages in bottles and cast them into the sea in hopes that they would wash upon friendly shores to be found by a lady in waiting. And so the bottle was cast into the astral sea, and delivered directly to the Ayenee System to find it's way to his dark orchid...
The banner of distant stars twisted and distorted as the broken hull of the Voltian II was flung from the bowels of slipstream, the uncontrolled exit pushing super-heated gases and exotic particle clouds outwards in a rippling effect as the massive battleship turned end over end sheering through real-space as the transit rift blinked closed behind it. The USI's flagship was a tomb, a bottle sealed and carrying a rather pointed message. Scorched, shattered plating peeling of it's broken 'spine' under the sheer of sub-luminal speeds; billowing clouds of escaping gases and fuels igniting at chaotic intervals as plasma fires ripped uncontrolled through corridors in the engineering sections. Some of the burn marks on the vessel's hull were obviously post-battle, drilled with the precision of close range the sigils of Lao'Taun and Pestilence super-scripted over the Umarian symbol of the Hēilóng ('Black Dragon').
While the Voltian herself laid to rest, a crumbling slumber power sources of a Umarian origin burned within her decks which permitted the emission of a single uncodified transmission through the region. The live image of the Voltian's main bridge cast for Satrinah to see. The expected image of a battle-torn vessel had been muted by what had been arranged. The bridge filled with tall pillar candles, which cast a pale flickering glow on the morbid display which had been hung from above. Hooks pierced the softer interior petals and polymers from various points in an enter three hundred and sixty degree formation from which filaments stretched the leather-like blanket of flesh which had been pulled off Marissa's suspended form. Twisted ropes of dangling innards swayed below the corpse dripping with various fluids along with blood which was caught by an elegant carpeting of black silk which had been draped over the floors. The former Vaesudan's head was tilted back, face frozen within the horrific phase that death had left, eyes boared out hallow like the endless spans of the voids - a painting of poetic justice of a deed that never should of been committed.
The image transmitted would shift every few cycles, from the dark ritualistic display on the bridge to that of the ship's Ward Room. The Ward Room was too bathed in the soft glow of flickering candles, the table set with the finest of china and treasures that could be found. Propped up within each of the seven chairs were the corpses of Norians, each wearing the old uniform of the Imperial Senate. Their chest cavities broken open, shattered in a way that the breaking points of the ribs had jutted outwards like the decorative points on a rack of lamb. Upon each of the silver plates before the gathering of dead senators was their own heart, a symbolic never to be partaken feast. Each of the Senators had belonged to the party that had challenged Satrinah's rise to Aester in Lorenz, it seemed this deed that had occurred centuries before had not gone unpunished after all.
The third and final image transmitted from within 'the bottle' was that of a polished crystalline pillar upon which a single decorative clay crucible. Within the shallow pot a single black orchid grew from a black serpent-like scale, it's pale violet petals dripping the glistening drops of moisture that showered from the modified environmental system. It was a simple arrangement with a pointed and meaningful message that would only likely registered by her.
Amplified by the placed systems on the Voltian II, the subspace calls of distant leviathans sung like that of whales; echoing harmonics being transmitted through open channels that wound reach almost ten cubic lightyears from Ayenee. As the unmistakable calls climbed towards a peak the Voltian reached the end of it's lifespan, the hull of the vessel finally reaching it's critical stress limit and buckling. In a single explosive burst the former USI flagship blew apart, shockwaves from it's destruction carrying released energies and debris across the outer span of the Ayenee System.
ʟσшεя κıтнυɢнα-ɔαмαυɔαп
вσנıпɢ'ƨ ɢεпεяαʟ ɢσσɔƨ
[align=center]
[/align]The streets of Lower Kithugha-Damaudan were quieter, weaving back alleys and the place of many shops and ventures that ranged in their legitimacy and function; they were at the depths of Chonyosa society but deeply ingrained within the very culture of the city itself. Fancy lanterns still strung from building to building, never taken down from the festival of orchids - few souls walked the street, those who did were usually apart of something more sinister or in a rush to get to whichever warmly lit window they were heading to. On one of the corners was a shoppe a bit larger than the rest, it's windows riddled with posters announcing various functions and events as well as the specials on various rare herbs, vegetables and produce within and an old sign that flickered on the verge of burning out that advertised the fine liquors within. Bojing's General Goods was a staple of the city, a place known for the strangest of visitors including members of upper society that were never expected within the bowels of the heart of the Chonyosa.
Chen, a young lad who had worked for the elusive Mister Bojing was stocking shelves as usual. He was never bored, there was always something to do from unloading shipments, to cleaning, to making special deliveries including the rare bottles of Wuliangye baijiu which were taken to the Cathedral of Cystho. Chen was not the only employee under the Bojing name, but he was the one the public seen the most. The hours of the shop were unpredictable, sometimes it even stayed closed for days ; rumors were rampant that it was the front for something bigger but those who investigated often came back with pockets full of dry rice and stories about seeing nothing short of a boring old market.
The bells jingled as the old door was pushed open, Chen was busy stocking some green tea that had come in on the last order and shouted, "Nǐ hǎo!" He was used to the usual customers who shouted back, and when there was nothing he turned his head to see the massive black military issued boots planted against the floor. His slanted eyes narrowed as his gaze scaled what seemed to be a giant, WASP-style armor and massive black arching wings which came to a clawed point just above the man's head. There was nothing gentle about the figure, build strong and obviously military - yet something powerfully alluring, hair clipped back tightly, making the masculine features of the man's face seem even more statue-like. He was something Chen had come to expect from comic books, and even with the diversity of the Chonyosa it was definitely something to see. "Eh...Can I help you?" he said, slowly rising to his feet, dusting off his apron as he felt dwarfed in the shadow of the man who had come inside.
Sorle looked down towards the young boy, "I have a package waiting for me. Special Order from the Telal Tea Company." His voice was deep, commanding and held no emotion at all. He didn't smile, daunting form towering over even the highest of shelves in the market. Nebulous blue-green eyes churning as the reflection of the child twisted within his sights. Outside a running SUV-style vehicle with government plates and tinted windows was running with two sentries standing along side of it.
Chen tilted his head slightly, "Oh, Telal Tea Company...Yeah I think we have something in from them." He smiled almost knowingly, "A shame about the rain today, would of been nice if it lasted longer." He said, "Do you have an umbrella?" He asked, first locking the shop door and then heading towards the counter, looking at the crates stacked up there.
Sorle said quietly, "The rain is never long enough, and I have an umbrella..I got it from Miss Lan." It was far from small talk, but authentication to verify him for the package. "Hope nothing got damaged in transport this time." He said, watching as Chen looked for the right package. There of course was no Telal Tea Company, but it was one of the many ways those with access to the HoL sent things back and forth. Miss Lan of course referred to the orchid herself, and the use of the umbrella symbolic within the secretive stories whispered by the Leviathans about the Second Luminary.
Chen placed the crate on the counter and stood back, "Here it is, Sir!" The young boy was curious as to what was inside, thanks to the nature of the shop he often got to see such things, and of course had never uttered a word to anyone about what he had seen or heard within the confines of Mister Bojing's establishment.
Sorle ripped the top of the crate off with his bare hands, with a man of his strength it was like plaster crumbling. The crate was rather large and inside was a sealed armored security case which he pulled out and placed on the counter. He opened the case, and a volumetric screen activated as a micro-mindhive un-linked to the rest of the combines shared it's information. After a few minutes, image after image passing, Sorle would close the case and push it back towards Chen. "Please send this back, it is the wrong kind of Tea." He then turned, giving a wave out the window towards the sentries who would get back in the car and immediately drive away. "It would appear, I am in the need of the restroom." Sorle said giving a slight nod.
Chen lead Sorle towards the back of the store, apron swaying as he walked hurriedly. He opened the slidding wooden door to reveal a sealed isolation-style access door. "Here you are, Sir." Chen said, using his access codes to open the door. It was not a bathroom, rather a small lift. He waited until Sorle was inside and then resealed the door, giving a slight nod. The building shook slightly as the lift's brakes were released, sending it zipping through the secured tunnel. Chen would then reseal the inner door and slide the wooden one shut. Once more, someone went into Bojing's and didn't return out the door from which they had entered.
sᴀᴛʜᴀʀᴜᴀ ─ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ sᴇᴄᴛᴏʀ
As the lift blazed through the tunnel system, passing security checks and evaluations Sorle went over in his mind what he had seen, the details of his mission were rather delicate. It was not a mission he would of normally taken under any circumstances but it had come right from the Luminary. The door finally opened and Sorle stepped out of the lift and into a small control room. Upon his entry the door behind him closed and the dim blue lighting activated illuminating the room. There were several control panels arranged ahead of him, to his right was a sealed armory and then another door to his left, another isolation door clearly marked as an airlock. Windows looked out into what appeared to be emptiness, the pitched black interrupted as loud electronic noises exhumed from all around him, section by section the massive docking bay was illuminated.
Within the bay was a vessel that was still yet to be fleeted to the rest of the UAR. A new class of Leviathan, and a true killer by all means - a suitable ride for a warrior like Sorle. The Satharua GX-VI Harbinger-Class Gunship Leviathan, it was one of many advancements brought forth in conjunction with the AT-GATE project. The Gunship Leviathan was smaller, more compact, roughly only two hundred and fifty meters long, and only six decks but the ship was far from anything traditional. It's glossy black hull resembled some kind of prehistoric arachnid, like a scorpion without claws and a long segmented and spiked tail that swayed back and forth as it remained stationary in the bay. Faint blue luminescent regions marked what seemed to be engines, but actually determining what was what as the chitinous-like exterior seemed to flex and transform was nearly impossible. "Hmm..." Sorle whispered, looking out the window as he packed munitions from the armory into a bag.
Sorle headed out the airlock reviewing the technical specifications of the new leviathan, soon enough they would be on their way - part of a secret and risky mission to Ayenee, to bring to motion the true Hand of Lao'Taun.
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