Forums » Sci-Fi Roleplay » Mechanomorphs: Steam and Oil

The year is 1885...The place is London.

However, it is not the London you know.

The advent of the Helix Steam Engine in the year 1845 has changed the course of history, providing a rapid revolution of science and industry worldwide. Fantastic mechanical marvels have become the norm as civilization spreads outward, and the planet itself becomes a very different place. Mankind turns to the stars and wonders, "Are those the next limit that we may achieve?"

Little did they realise, the stars where watching back.

Unbeknownst to the human population of Earth, on the far arm of the galaxy lay the planet Mecha Terra. A mechanical planet inhabited by a race of sentient machines called the Mechanomorphs. However, in contrast to the peace the reigned on Earth, Mecha Terra was being torn asunder by a blood civil war. Various factions known as guilds aligned themselves either with, or against, the oppressive rule of a guild known as The Tyrants. It was a battle fought bitterly over the most precious resource the planet had to offer.

The war raged for decades, without any sign of peace being reached. Until one day, a single faction of warriors decided that the only way to win this war, was to seek aid elsewhere in the galaxy. Merely fighting one another would surely end their race as they tore one another apart. They needed allies to tip the scales. So they assembled a fleet and supplied themselves for a escape from Mecha Terra.

Little did they realise, that the Tyrants where aware of this attempt, and made their own plans to thwart this attempt to tip the scales of the war. The ambush was planned, blades sharpened and cannons charged. They where ready to put down this insurrection.

Little did these Seekers also realize, that this act and it's consequences would bring their war to the innocent planet of Earth...

For when the ambush entrapped the Seeker fleet, they where forced into a gambit. As their forces where reduced to merely a single flagship, Their only chance of escape became apparent. A wormhole that lay near the battlefield, the Seekers and Tyrants knew fully well, that no exploration team that had entered the wormhole had ever established contact again. But the Seeker saw no other hope.

They plunged into the wormhole, with a Tyrant battlecruiser in pursuit. Both dove through the heart of the gap in space, and where lost...

Or, so the records on Terra Mecha state...In reality, the two ships emerged in the gravitational pull of a small blue planet. And their battle was far from over...And the two badly damaged vessels engaged one another yet again.

Below on the Earth, humans marveled at an unprecedented and unexplained astrological event. Bright bursts of light showered the sky, as falling stars littered the sky. Humanity was amazed at this unexpected wonder, even as the falling stars became larger and more fiery.

In the atmosphere above, both ships tumbled from orbit, firing off escape pods in every direction as they tumbled from the heavens. The Tyrant ship split into two as it fell, and the Seekers drove directly towards an uninhabited Continent. The pods were seem from the planet's surface as giant meteors, arching across the sky towards distant places, most falling towards the ocean. And this...is where the war upon earth begins.

And it begins, with tragedy befalling a single vessel in the Atlantic.

As the ship was hit, the crew began to panic. Very few passengers were on this voyage, and already five of the six were being loaded into a life vessel. The sixth however was running around the room she had been working in, picking up plans, vials and scooping a little puff of orange fur into a carrier. Hailing down a young man who worked further down in the ship, she smiled, "Would you be a love. Cog is more important than my life and of course these plans have to get to where they're going!" She seemed pretty chipper for a woman on a sinking ship. As she waved him off in a daze, she took her life jacket and pulled it on over her military jacket, checking to see that everything of importance was there.

Then she smashed other sets of vials and ripped up sheets of paper. Satisfied when the water was rising up her ankles, she took to the stairs, dashing up. It was her lucky day. Seems the boy had forgotten she was still on the ship and everyone had gone, including the damn captain.

Now panic set in. She thought about diving into the water, but they didn't know what had caused the hole in the ship. Sea monsters were not common, but who knows what might take down a ship of this size. The red haired woman looked up at the sky, cursing her luck. At least Cog was safe. He would be delivered to her home if she was not found and her friend would care for him.

Taking to the highest point of the ship, Lilura Ibarra said the one thing that had only briefly passed her lips before - prayers.

Water flooded in from the huge hole in the side of the ship. It was a clear puncture, straight through the edge of the decking, and right out through the hull. The edges of the hole through the ship smoldered as through they had touched something incredible hot.

And as water flooded the ship, it began to sink rapidly into the ocean. There was very little time for anyone to respond, considering the severity of the damages. Lilura could hear the someone in the wheelhouse, barking distress calls over the radio, pleading through tears for help.

The steam engine powering the nautical screw at the stern chugged, spluttering and died. The flooded engine could do no more, and all lights died on the vessel. The radio had too, as the rapid footsteps of whomever was hailing for help fled. They could only hope one of the hailing calls had reached someone. The whole ship creaked and groaned, as it's aft sank rapidly, driving it's opposite end up into the air and the whole ship began to slide down towards the depths.

Below, a single light could be seen distantly, blinking as it sank much like they were, a small edge of metallic luster gleaming in the dark against that light. And above, massive shooting stars raced towards the horizon. Had that been what had hit the ship? A falling star?

The water swept over Lilura's point, the water breaking against her and seeking to unseat her from her place as the undertow of the sinking ship threatened to suck her down with it. Debris littered the waters, and the only option left top the survivor, was to cling to the wreckage and wait for rescue.

Lilura jumped as she neared the water's edge, clinging to a piece of the former ship that was about as tall and wide as she was. She took a deep breath as she ship sucked both her and the debris under, saltwater flooding her eyes. It was not a cold day, exactly, but the water did bite at her skin, reminding her that the water would never be as warm as the air.

She kicked her legs, finding that instead of going up, she was being pulled down further. The tools in her pockets were working against her. She let go of what she had hoped would save her and began to pull her tools out. The pockets worked against her and she undid her belt, kicking off her boots and pants.

When she finally reached the surface her lungs were burning and she coughed, inhaling water and air, trying to find something to cling to. When she found something, she closed her eyes, relaxing for a moment, turning up to look at the sky.

Something different was going on there. She wanted to know what. Well, she wanted to survive and then find out, but one might not happen at this rate.

It would be two hours before Lilura would be found. It would be a test of any survivor's very endurance.

But, fortunately, the distress hails had gotten through, and at the end of that two hours, above her a light flooded her place on the water. In the heavens, an Ornithopter pumped it's twin pairs of mechanical, bird-like wings as it hovered in place, shining it's light down onto her. Then it circled her twice, to show that it had spotted her, before turning away and heading towards the direction of land.

And then fifteen minutes later, steam ships appeared on the waves. The familiar chug and rumble of the engines as they labored to provide speed to the rescue vessels. The Ornithopter was with them, leading them.

Rescue had arrived. Her ordeal was over it seemed.

However, this was not what fate had decided for her this day. As the middle steam ship suddenly went through a mysterious change. It's sides flipped open with a hiss of steam and a mechanical shifting and grinding sound. Several large cannons emerged from the now open slots, as through held by large arms within, they took aim at the two other rescue ships and with the thunder of shelling guns, the two rescue ships exploded into bright orange flames and oily black smoke. There was more of that mechanical clamor, that grinding and shifting sound, as the steam ship suddenly flipped over and split asunder, it's stern unfolding into legs as arms emerged and unclasped themselves from the vessels sides, mechanical fists of plates and black gears grasping the cannons. A head and snarling humanoid face emerged, as the now giant mechanical man flipped over on his stomach. The steam ships nautical screw spun to life, forcing the metal titan towards her with a foaming, cresting wake spreading behind him. The metal titan roar in a voice of hissing steam and synthesized sound, like a record player of amazing quality. "Come out, come out, Seeker filth! You cannot hide from me!"

The mechanical titan leveled one of his handheld cannons at the Ornithopter in the air, and the thunderous bang and flash of the muzzle launched a round cannon ball at the aircraft. The Ornithopter flapped hard, trying to bank and avoid the projectile, but it caught it on the tail of the vessel, tearing it free and sending the aircraft into a nose dive towards the ocean.

It splashed down heavily, splashing water over Lilura, as it sank rapidly into the depths.

The metal titan was heading directly towards her, on a collision course for where she lay.

But below her, something was happening. As the Ornithopter was lost to the blackness, a small light glimmered in the deep beneath her. A small beam of concentrated light, running over the Ornithopter as it sank. And then, pockets of air began to bubble up from the depths under Lilura, a large shape rising from the black.

Lilura summoned energy she wasn't even aware she had. She dove under the surface, kicking her strong legs, attempting to keep out of the way of the ship.

There was nothing quite like being cut in half by... whatever that was. Fatigue had clouded her brain, she concluded. That was not what she saw or heard. It was only a fever dream. Surely she was drowning.

Well, no, that wasn't right. The pain in her chest was reminding her to breath. She kicked up again, sucking in breath, sputtering as she kept paddling out of the way, looking for something else to hold on to.

((Lame post is Lame))

Below Lilura, the rising shape from the depths became recognizable. It was the Ornithopter, floating back to the surface. And as it approached her, the orb-shaped cockpit opened widely, like a maw ready to snatch her up. It's wings where pumping to cause it to surface...but that couldn't be possible, the engine shouldn't function when submerged in water. But nonetheless, the cockpit rose beneath her and brought her firmly into the pilot's chair as it rose, as though responded to her wish for something to hang onto.

There that same mechanical grinding sound again, the ornithopter's engine chugged and spluttered, and then flared to life with purring vibration of pistons and gears. Vents in the floor of the cockpit opened, as the wings of the Ornithopter beat hard and hovered the craft above the waves. The water in the cockpit drained out those vents. Over the Ornithopter's radio, a voice came, addressing Lilura in a soft artificial sounding voice...much like the metal titan, it sounded like a voice recorded over a phonograph disc. "Well, looks like I picked up a castaway. Ye hang in there little lassie, aye?"

Beside them, the water detonated as the oncoming metal titan fired again, the shells detonating on either side of the aircraft. "Whoa whoa, Tyrant be getting a wee bit close for comfort there." The control stick before Lilura swung sideways on it's own, and the bat-like mechanical wings of the ornithopter pumped hard, causing the whole vessel to peel off eastward and arch away from the rushing metal titan. Above Lilura's head, the cockpit's hatch closed and a vaccuum sealer began to hiss and throttle as it pressurized the cockpit with oxygen. "There be ye all snug, lassie?"

Lilura was visably shaken in the machine, wondering if perhaps she had been wrong about the burning in her lungs. She rubbed her temples, groaning softly. She needed a drink. As she watched the fighting outside, she shuddered, the other machine was huge.

"Ah, yeh. I'm fine." Her voice was thick Irish, which was a change from how she spoke on the ship. No point in stopping to sound like a good British lady of standing. She had been panicked at first, hearing the vacuum sealing, but now she was fascinated, "Are you sentient, or a automaton?" She couldn't think of how an automaton would speak to her like that, how it would know what to say, or how someone on the beginning end of a rescue mission like this would be able to record, knowing what to say.

The Ornithopter made a hard bank back, gaining altitude as it climbed gentle, there was a groan from the radio as more explosion detonated in the water. "My name be Geargrinder, lassie. If that be an answer...Now, lets see if I can get outta this. More talk later." The control stick swung hard, as he banked back again, "We might have to make a stand and fight." Another shelling from the titan below, as it refused to let them be. the round shell detonating nearly into orbs of black smoke with concussive bangs.

"Foolish Seeker! You cannot escape, no matter your form! I won't let you!" the Tyrant bellowed as it swung one of it's cannons back and it slid easily into a neat slot along it's mechanical back. He reached into a panel along it's submerged Leg, and drew out a giant hand gun. Electricity sparked along the barrel, traveling from the bore. The black pit of the gun glowed with red plasma, and then the gun discharged, firing three expelling bursts at them. The control stick in the Ornithopter swung wildly as whatever had saved Lilura tried to evade again...but this time, the Tyrant struck true, a burst of red plasma striking the right back wing of Ornithopter and causing it to go into a hard uncontrolled spin. the voice returned over the radio, "Lassie...unbuckle yourself. Trust me..."

There was a hiss as the cockpit lost pressure, the third bolt of plasma hit home on the of the Ornithopter, as bolts of cackling red swept over the body of the craft. The engine spluttered and died. And then, the cockpit shot open, exposing Lilura to a whipping wind. There was that mechanical grinding sound, as the tail of the ornithopter split in two along a clean line, revealing shifting, twisting mechanics within. The body of the craft was twisting, shifting shapes. The wings bent like a birds as it landed, and arms unfolded from beneath the cockpit. One of them reached up, fingers seeking to close around Lilura.

Despite the fear she felt, Lilura didn't scream. Instead she closed her eyes, trying to remember if she knew what to do in the case that she might fall into the water. The hand closing around her was a comfort and she put her hands on the great fingers, holding tight.

"Dear Lord, if I survive this, I promise to... well, I won't promise a thing." Her soft accent was growing deeper - no need to pretend to be a nice, proper woman. Instead, she sounded like her mother, the thick Irish accent, giving flavour to her words.

The massive metal hand, the gears clinking away in it's knuckles as the metal plates that made it up the fist gently cradled the human as lightly as they could. The cockpit she had just barely been sitting it split rapidly into two even brass half-spheres, and slid among mechanical tracks to the shoulders of the transforming Ornithopter. As this happened, the voice she had heard over the radio echoed out again. But this time, it came as a booming voice from the chest of the...machine that was carrying her. "Geargrinder...Transform!"

The undercarriage of the Ornithopter cracked open along mechanical seems, forming into a humanoid chest plates as a head and neck unfolded from within. The face was simple, mechanical. Like a soldier wearing his combat helmet. His eyes covered in a bright green glowing visor. She could watch as mechanical feet, with toes and all, unfolded from the separated tail of the Ornithopter. And then the wings upon this second, friendly titan's back spread and they where no longer falling. Six sets of wings, four upon the back and two upon the ankles of this mechanical marvel, beat in unison to hold them aloft.

A simple metal face mask covered the face's mouth and chin, moving as it spoke in it's phonograph-like grumbling voice. "Hang onto this, lassie." He moved her to one of the half cockpits, and it's glass plating slipping open to reveal that half the pilot's chair had transformed into a small bucket seat within. There was a series of bronze rings within she could hold until she could buckle herself into the small, backless seat.

Geargrinder's metal hands set to work, as his wings beat to gain them altitude. From his legs hissed open a pair of metal panels, chambers inside filled with a pair of giant revolvers. Or at least they resembled revolvers. They had a long thing barrel and round cylinders, but no chambers within for bullets. Instead, they had a mass of coiled wires like a generator, hooked up to a high speed gear. Geargrinder took a gun in each hand, digits tense and ready, he spoke again. Both to her and to his opponent. "I have no intent to die 'ere, Vendetta! Nor take the lass with me. Stand down!"

Vendetta, the metal titan who circled them below like a shark in the water, replied by firing another bolt of red plasma into their direction. But Geargrinder spilled air from his wings, dropping in a small swoop. And then he unloaded with his twin pistols, bright beams of hot blue light issuing from those tiny barrels with an alien tenor and pitch. Geargrinder fired in rapid succession, for the first few beams failed to strike. But beam after beam, till finally on the sixth beam from the second gun lanced home and left a smoking hole in the shoulder of the swimming metal titan. Vendetta screamed painfully, his human like cry mixed with the rasp of metal on metal, as the sixth beam from the first gun shot home and struck their attacker in the back. It's rudder failed, and it began to sink.

Geargrinder took the opportunity and took to the sky as quickly as he could, holstering his revolver-like guns on the fly. They raced towards the clouds, until Geargrinder felt it was safe. He stopped, hovering with the beating of his wings, and he reached behind himself. A hiss of steam sounded something opening on the mechanical man's back, right between the wings. Geargrinder drew out a rifle of massive size, with a massive brass optical telescope mounted on top. It was almost as long as Geargrinder's torso...Lilura was probably familiar with his sort of gun, it was a Sniper Rifle. He raised it to his eye, and from his helmet, a monocle slid down over a portion of his visor, to cooperate with the sight on the rifle. He grumbled to her, "Locked On...Your call lassie, cripple him or send him to the depths for good? Make your choice fast."

Lilura was quick on her feet and managed to buckle herself in fairly quickly. At this point she relaxed a moment. At least if she was going to die now, she would do so in a chair, which was her second favourite place to be. She leaned her head back, taking a moment to gather her wet hair, tying it behind her neck.

She listened and watched, "Finish him." She felt her voice choke. It felt horrible to decide on the death of someone else. She couldn't think of what else it could be, if not someone. It had a voice and mind, it wasn't a thing. Her chest began to ache with guilt as she covered her eyes.

It wants you dead, Ibarra. You can't feel sorry for it.

Geargrinder shouldered the rifle, staring down the optic, in a low grumble he returned, "Roger..."

Below them, the water bubbled and frothed as the massive metal titan struggled to surface with damaged equipment. His dark shape rising, from the depths towards that endless blue. Geargrinder kept the gun trained on target, adjusting slightly for variance in the dark shape.

Time all slowed for a moment, as the sequence of events played out. Vendetta breached, his metal mouth belching water and steam as his gnashed metal plated teeth. Geargrinder squeezed the trigger, timing the shot between the beats of his wings with a calculated expertise. As the trigger pulled, there was the click of the firing pin, as six vents on each side of the sniper rifle opened. They where each connected to a swept back set of exhaust pipes along the barrel...and the hair filled with the smell of oxidized air, that hazy scent of electricity as it struck air. There was a roaring boom, as light flashed from the bore of the rifle, and a bolt of sparking electricity, flame, and metal launched from barrel in a brilliant streak...

The streak drew a line straight to the center of Vendetta's chest, and a smoking molten hole emerged. The glowing yellow light of it's eyes died, and it was sunk beneath the waves once more. Geargrinder righted, standing more erect against his pumping wings. "It's done, lassie. Another corrupt bot down..." He turned away from the site of the battle between sky and sea, and began to fly back in the direction of land. "Lassie, I be needing you to focus. Is there an island nearby? I can't rightly be changing back with you on my shoulder that way. Need a place to set down and make the change."

Lilura flicked her goggles down, sheilding her eyes from the sight of seeing the bot die. She closed her good eye, shutting out the feelings that flooded her. A hard line crossed her lips and she pushed her goggles back up. She was too strong to let this influence her, "To the East should be Scotland. We're closer to Denmark in the West though. Go that way."

She wasn't sure about her contacts there, but she knew that if anyone was going to find a safe place anywhere, it would be her.

Geargrinder gave a hard pitch to the west, and set a course towards what which she called Denmark.

He gave a low grumble towards her, "I be sorry ye got caught in this all, Lass. It were never our intent to involve Natives. Damn Tyrants." He looked over to her on his shoulder, his metal and glass face was flat and blank, as he was not made to be a very expressive bot. But he sounded morose. "I imagine ye have quite a few questions for me about what just barely happened to ya. Or be ye in shock?"

He stuck out his hands before himself, making himself more aerodynamic as he flew along to the rythmic beats of his Ornithopter wings. But then he added, "If it mean anything to ye, you made the choice I would've made. That Tyrant wouldn't have had any discretion about killing ye after I had fallen. Or before to draw me out."

Lilura nodded, placing a hand to her forehead, "If I am in shock, it's not bad. My skin feels normal. Not clammy. What the blood 'ell are you?" Her voice slowly climbed in pitch as she spoke, the terror ripping through her as she thought about exactly what was happening.

Her green eyes closed and she leaned back. She was glad she hadn't pissed herself in the moment of terror and kept her cool. This wasn't the worst thing to ever happen to her, but it was in the top ten. Top five. Top three. Okay, it was the worst.

Geargrinder shook his head, the slow clash of gears heralding the motion, "That be more towards the response I was expecting from an organic life form."

"It's a long story lass, but, obviously, I be not of this world. I'm a being from a world known as Mecha Terra, a machine planet far from yours." He explained slowly in that mechanical, phonographic voice of his. He was keeping the bits of data generic and too the point, to keep them from overwealming her with information. "I'm a mechanical lifeform. A living machine. And like I said, lass, I'm Geargrinder. On my planet, I was a Peacekeeper. Now, I'm a member of the Seekers."

The ocean rolled on below them, allowing her plenty of time for questions and to come to terms with that she was dealing with.

Lilura mulled over what he said, "What's a seeker? If you're a living machine, does that mean you can be opened up like other ones? Does it hurt? If it doesn't, can I open you up?" She was getting a little tense now, excited. A living machine! Can I make one of those? Maybe I could rescue my father if I did... She grew sad, suddenly, no longer speaking, just sitting there limply. Everything came back to her father, it seemed.

"Seeker is a guild, lass. My world's government was arranged to be hierarchical system revolving around specialized guilds, who outfitted Mechanomorph to do jobs for society. At least, this were it's nature before them Tyrants took over the planet as the ruling body and sparked a war. But the tradition of designating Bots by guild still be one we hold dear." He sighed, and slowed down, best to just address each question in turn, one at a time. "We Seekers named ourselves for our treasonous mission, to be seeking out Allies on other worlds to align with in the hopes of ending the civil war, and the oppression of the Tyrants."

He continued shortly, "And yes, I be made with several compartments that can be opened for maintenance and improvements to existing systems. But yea, parts of this body would be fatal to be muddled with. My nexus and it's lines be one such, the Transformation Matrix be another. Lots of little bits that be very important, lass. Life never be a simple thing, ain't it the truth?"