((Post-apocalyptic/steampunk setting. The inhabitants of "post-apocalypse" have had time to rebuild a little, but the current level of technology is about the same as that of the Middle Ages. The medical field is the only part of technology that remained somewhat intact. Accepted species are humans, anthros, and humanoid custom species (within reason). No magic, maybe sci-fi powers, guns are iffy, and motors usually don't work.))
"Sale! Anything you wish, and it's all for sale!"
Just another shameless advertisement among so many others. Uttered on a large road where several merchants and salesmen gathered, it was hard to believe that this particular one would stand out this much. It may have been because of the nature of the offer, or maybe because of the way it was said, but there seemed to be something about it that attracted the ear, and by the same fact, attracted the eyes.
The voice, of a slightly higher pitch than what was considered 'normal', belonged to an individual nothing short of dubious. Just by the fact that it hid its face behind a mask and wore loose and heavy clothes despite the warm weather, one could tell it was an unusual fellow. It didn't help that its mask didn't seem to fit with the rest of its clothes; whereas its attire was rugged and used, the mask seemed in perfect shape. Of draconian appearance, there was not a single crack or blemish on its white surface.
A tail protruded from its lower back, the only visible part of its being apart from its hands and hair (the latter still somewhat hidden under an old fedora), confirming its identity as far as species was concerned; it was a Malady. Whereas most humanoid species that had arisen after what everyone called the 'Apocalypse' were allowed to go anywhere in the humongous city where they all had gathered, Maladies had been quarantined since the past fifty or so years due to their reputation for carrying plagues and diseases. They were restricted to a certain area of the city and only a select few were allowed to come out.
That single fact didn't seem to help this Malady's business; everyone seemed to avoid it because of that. It was standing in the middle of a wide assortment of seemingly random merchandise which were set on tables, hung on fragile hooks or flat out on the ground, and were spread out in a U shape, opening on the street side for people to look at. The Malady was going back and forth from either side of the improvised stall to try to interest people, but to no avail. Still, it never seemed to get discouraged nor to run out of energy to call out his public advertisement or to run after potential clients.
"Sale! Anything you wish, and it's all for sale!"
Just another shameless advertisement among so many others. Uttered on a large road where several merchants and salesmen gathered, it was hard to believe that this particular one would stand out this much. It may have been because of the nature of the offer, or maybe because of the way it was said, but there seemed to be something about it that attracted the ear, and by the same fact, attracted the eyes.
The voice, of a slightly higher pitch than what was considered 'normal', belonged to an individual nothing short of dubious. Just by the fact that it hid its face behind a mask and wore loose and heavy clothes despite the warm weather, one could tell it was an unusual fellow. It didn't help that its mask didn't seem to fit with the rest of its clothes; whereas its attire was rugged and used, the mask seemed in perfect shape. Of draconian appearance, there was not a single crack or blemish on its white surface.
A tail protruded from its lower back, the only visible part of its being apart from its hands and hair (the latter still somewhat hidden under an old fedora), confirming its identity as far as species was concerned; it was a Malady. Whereas most humanoid species that had arisen after what everyone called the 'Apocalypse' were allowed to go anywhere in the humongous city where they all had gathered, Maladies had been quarantined since the past fifty or so years due to their reputation for carrying plagues and diseases. They were restricted to a certain area of the city and only a select few were allowed to come out.
That single fact didn't seem to help this Malady's business; everyone seemed to avoid it because of that. It was standing in the middle of a wide assortment of seemingly random merchandise which were set on tables, hung on fragile hooks or flat out on the ground, and were spread out in a U shape, opening on the street side for people to look at. The Malady was going back and forth from either side of the improvised stall to try to interest people, but to no avail. Still, it never seemed to get discouraged nor to run out of energy to call out his public advertisement or to run after potential clients.
"C'mon, Elsa. Dare you to talk to it," Teena smirked as she jabbed her companion in the ribs. Elsa, the scrawniest of the lot and by far the most shy, shrunk back from the teasing. A few of the other girls laughed.
Elsa was short and utterly unspectacular in appearance. Her hair was dishwater blonde and cropped just short of her chin. The dress that she wore was once blue but had faded to a color that was very nearly grey, and it looked like it was two sizes too large for her. She was standing with a little assembly of teenage human girls on the edge of the milling crowd. Unsurprisingly, their attention had been drawn by the unusual merchant before them, and the bolder girls had decided that this was a wonderful opportunity to put poor Elsa on the spot.
"I'm sure it don't got the plague or anything," Aislee chimed in, giving Elsa a little shove in the direction of the merchant. "Go on!"
Elsa steeled herself and took a deep breath. She knew that her "friends" wouldn't allow her any peace if she refused the challenge, and as much as she was terrified by the prospect of speaking to a stranger (and a stranger than average stranger, at that!) the idea of being relentlessly teased by the other girls was worse. They already had enough to use against her-- her shortness, her shyness, her awkwardness, the fact that the dress she was currently wearing had been passed down through two older sisters before her and definitely looked it-- and she refused to give them any more ammunition.
She walked down the street toward the Malady and halted in front of him.
That was when she realized that although she had it in her head to speak to him, she had no idea what to say. She didn't have any money to actually buy something, but she supposed she could at least pretend to be interested for long enough to shut her friends up.
"I, uh, would like to see what you've, uh, got for sale. Please."
Elsa was short and utterly unspectacular in appearance. Her hair was dishwater blonde and cropped just short of her chin. The dress that she wore was once blue but had faded to a color that was very nearly grey, and it looked like it was two sizes too large for her. She was standing with a little assembly of teenage human girls on the edge of the milling crowd. Unsurprisingly, their attention had been drawn by the unusual merchant before them, and the bolder girls had decided that this was a wonderful opportunity to put poor Elsa on the spot.
"I'm sure it don't got the plague or anything," Aislee chimed in, giving Elsa a little shove in the direction of the merchant. "Go on!"
Elsa steeled herself and took a deep breath. She knew that her "friends" wouldn't allow her any peace if she refused the challenge, and as much as she was terrified by the prospect of speaking to a stranger (and a stranger than average stranger, at that!) the idea of being relentlessly teased by the other girls was worse. They already had enough to use against her-- her shortness, her shyness, her awkwardness, the fact that the dress she was currently wearing had been passed down through two older sisters before her and definitely looked it-- and she refused to give them any more ammunition.
She walked down the street toward the Malady and halted in front of him.
That was when she realized that although she had it in her head to speak to him, she had no idea what to say. She didn't have any money to actually buy something, but she supposed she could at least pretend to be interested for long enough to shut her friends up.
"I, uh, would like to see what you've, uh, got for sale. Please."
(Q:Can Kryrissa be the Malady's Guardian by the fact that he was the first to order by saying "out of the way, your scaring the customers"? And so you know her horse will not be part of the role-play because it is a robot without being medical in any way.)
Kryrissa stepped into the tent that lay between the smithy and the medical center. She knew what would happen. The smith named Cleron and the medical/bionic specialist with shiny glasses, who's name was never said would walk in threw flaps on either side of the tent. Cleron would say in his deep cherry voice "Welcome back Kry! Sit right here please!" and motion towards a chair that faced away from a large seemingly steam while the specialist would stand begind it and be ready to hook here up. Kryrissa would sit down in the chair and remove her helmet and get ready for the sound of something long and made of metal slide into an import on her neck. Then the specialist will give her commands while Cleron tweaked with the machine. The pair will make eye contact sometimes and nod. After 15 minutes the machine would let loose a puff of steam and Kryrissa would be unhooked as Cleron noted "Okay Kry, Your free to go!" and Kryrissa would step out, replace her helmet, and head towards the end of the row of medical and metal working tents to a gate that separated the medical district from the merchant district. thinking *I continue to wonder at the name of the strange man that seems to pay my expenses*
After turning a corner she gazed upon the site of a girl who was being pushed towards a Malady's stand. She thought *Humans are so strange*
Kryrissa stepped into the tent that lay between the smithy and the medical center. She knew what would happen. The smith named Cleron and the medical/bionic specialist with shiny glasses, who's name was never said would walk in threw flaps on either side of the tent. Cleron would say in his deep cherry voice "Welcome back Kry! Sit right here please!" and motion towards a chair that faced away from a large seemingly steam while the specialist would stand begind it and be ready to hook here up. Kryrissa would sit down in the chair and remove her helmet and get ready for the sound of something long and made of metal slide into an import on her neck. Then the specialist will give her commands while Cleron tweaked with the machine. The pair will make eye contact sometimes and nod. After 15 minutes the machine would let loose a puff of steam and Kryrissa would be unhooked as Cleron noted "Okay Kry, Your free to go!" and Kryrissa would step out, replace her helmet, and head towards the end of the row of medical and metal working tents to a gate that separated the medical district from the merchant district. thinking *I continue to wonder at the name of the strange man that seems to pay my expenses*
After turning a corner she gazed upon the site of a girl who was being pushed towards a Malady's stand. She thought *Humans are so strange*
((Drake is gonna be a side character for this RP and I'd rather he keep as few "close" contacts with other characters if possible; I'll be using him to redirect the plot at times, but most of the time he won't be there and I'll be like the DM (passively). Medicine was also intended to be very close to current standards, by the way. 
))
((Also, I'm not exactly sure how group forum RP works, if it's in turns or if anyone who has something to post can post... but yeah, more people can join at any time in either case, I guess.))
Elsa's request was met with an amused stare from the Malady, followed by an over-exaggerated "hmm?"
It appeared like it was putting on an act, but it was impossible to make sure with this mask it wore; it looked constantly bemused and mocking while wearing it. One might find it difficult to keep a straight face when first setting eyes on it, without showing any sign of being weirded out.
"Oh!" it exclaimed after a moment, lifting its hand up, index finger pointing upward, as though it had found an idea or had just figured out what was going on. "I have just the thing for you, I know I do..."
The arm it had raised now lowered, only for the other to raise in turn as it pushed the rim of its hat with its thumb. Its head followed in a thoughtful movement. A mild chuckle could be heard if one listened carefully enough.
Its hands had now joined in front of its chest, rubbing against each other. "Take a look around, I'm sure you'll find it..." The tone used to speak this sentence wanted to be inviting and reassuring, but it came out all the opposite; every factor preceding it was surely enough to outweigh it.
))((Also, I'm not exactly sure how group forum RP works, if it's in turns or if anyone who has something to post can post... but yeah, more people can join at any time in either case, I guess.))
Elsa's request was met with an amused stare from the Malady, followed by an over-exaggerated "hmm?"
It appeared like it was putting on an act, but it was impossible to make sure with this mask it wore; it looked constantly bemused and mocking while wearing it. One might find it difficult to keep a straight face when first setting eyes on it, without showing any sign of being weirded out.
"Oh!" it exclaimed after a moment, lifting its hand up, index finger pointing upward, as though it had found an idea or had just figured out what was going on. "I have just the thing for you, I know I do..."
The arm it had raised now lowered, only for the other to raise in turn as it pushed the rim of its hat with its thumb. Its head followed in a thoughtful movement. A mild chuckle could be heard if one listened carefully enough.
Its hands had now joined in front of its chest, rubbing against each other. "Take a look around, I'm sure you'll find it..." The tone used to speak this sentence wanted to be inviting and reassuring, but it came out all the opposite; every factor preceding it was surely enough to outweigh it.
((you normally just go with the flow. And you never answered my above question: Can Drake be Kry's master?))
Kry sat down to the side to observe. Just last week Cleron suggested that she observe humans more often. This human in itself was interesting. It seemed as if influenced by her fellow species. But when planning to follow threw on the suggested quest she froze and asked a common question yet stuttered at the effort as if frightened by her audience.
"interesting, what will the human do next?"
Kry sat down to the side to observe. Just last week Cleron suggested that she observe humans more often. This human in itself was interesting. It seemed as if influenced by her fellow species. But when planning to follow threw on the suggested quest she froze and asked a common question yet stuttered at the effort as if frightened by her audience.
"interesting, what will the human do next?"
((@ Kryrissa : Ooooh! I thought you... ooooooooh! I thought you meant the opposite! I don't mind it the way you meant; Drake sees no one as a master. But a sort of servant could be something of interest to him.))
((@ Elsa : Drake pretty much has anything for sale; you get to decide what you find (as long as it fits with the setting).))
But a sort of servant could be something of interest to him.))((@ Elsa : Drake pretty much has anything for sale; you get to decide what you find (as long as it fits with the setting).))
((um where is everyone?))
((Sara appears to have been offline for a while now... she hasn't responded in weeks. It might be best to look for someone else to fill the position, I think... 
))
))
((Have you tried PMing her? If she hasn't turned off email notifications, that may shake her awake))
((Indeed I have. She responded a few days ago, but she might still be thinking about something to post. I don't blame her for that much; I myself really wouldn't be able to think of anything most of my characters would want, in terms of possessions. I guess the good old saying could apply to RP: do unto others that which you would wish done unto you... in other words, only put characters in situations you would like your own characters to be in. o3o))
((Sorry about the delay! Had family in town / pondering replies / busy with work. I'm inept! Moving on...))
Elsa probably could have left right then. The other girls would have seen that she was as least moderately courageous, she might have earned at least a tiny sliver of respect from them, and that was all that she wanted.
Or was it?
Something-- curiosity, it must have been-- tugged at her mind and drew her toward the table full of wares. She paused in front of it, and allowed her gaze to dance across a myriad of trinkets and baubles. There were many that she had never seen the like of, but since she knew that she could not afford them, she didn't touch any for fear she might break them.
At least, she did not touch anything except for one certain thing.
Sitting amid the items on the table was a small metal box. It was only about six inches long, and perhaps four inches deep. It was affixed with a steely grey lock, and was utterly nondescript along its sides. Its top was engraved with a single word in slanting script, and was adorned with the etched image of a sunflower. Elsa picked up the box because the word engraved on its top was her name. And the flower...
"Grandma's favorite," Elsa murmured. Then she tried to open the box, but found that it was locked fast and tight.
Elsa probably could have left right then. The other girls would have seen that she was as least moderately courageous, she might have earned at least a tiny sliver of respect from them, and that was all that she wanted.
Or was it?
Something-- curiosity, it must have been-- tugged at her mind and drew her toward the table full of wares. She paused in front of it, and allowed her gaze to dance across a myriad of trinkets and baubles. There were many that she had never seen the like of, but since she knew that she could not afford them, she didn't touch any for fear she might break them.
At least, she did not touch anything except for one certain thing.
Sitting amid the items on the table was a small metal box. It was only about six inches long, and perhaps four inches deep. It was affixed with a steely grey lock, and was utterly nondescript along its sides. Its top was engraved with a single word in slanting script, and was adorned with the etched image of a sunflower. Elsa picked up the box because the word engraved on its top was her name. And the flower...
"Grandma's favorite," Elsa murmured. Then she tried to open the box, but found that it was locked fast and tight.
((Is this still open?))
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