Sins of the Cogwheel Republic: Chapter One

[Blindsense]

Chapter One: East Side Beat



It was often said that should one find themselves dying in a Rakken alleyway, then their death knell would sound amongst the sundry harmonies of the world itself. Indeed, if one simply stood for a while in one of the empty side roads and listened, they would hear the weary, eerie music of the city's creaking pipes, accompanied only by the occasional whimper of an old, foreclosed building. Perhaps such sound wouldn't be so maddening if there was any motion in the air; alas, such was the nature of Rakken. Its citizens had not felt a breeze in generations - the air was stagnant, metallic, and foul.

Hardly a pleasant place to find oneself on the best of evenings, let alone this particularly dark, foreboding night, where even the artificial moonlight that shone down from the dome above seemed dimmer and wearier than usual. And yet, here you were; six misfits, castoffs, byproducts of an age that cared little for the filth it left in its wake. Each of you had your own motivations, of course - your own backgrounds, your own motivations... At least, you had managed to muster up what little motivation you had to do anything at all to at least make an effort at escaping this hell.

The six of you stood there in silence - not entirely sure what to make of each other. Sure, you were familiar enough with each other (how else would you have decided to arrive here on this, the most peculiarly foreboding of nights) but even fast and strong comrades would have little to say in this environment. Even so, it was so very tempting to break the silence if only to interrupt the brutal cacophony of what had sardonically become known as the "Beats of East Rakken".

The black hand print sat like a declaration upon the iron door - your eyes were drawn to it every few moments, as if you were expecting it to leap off the surface of the gateway and strangle you. A mouse scurried by, its form as emaciated as your own, and cause one of you to jump, breaking the eerie drone of the pipes for a few nervous moments. Then all was silent again.

Would you speak to one another? Try to ingratiate yourselves with your unlikely allies? Or would you simply remain quiet and await whatever would come through that blasted iron door? The still air was stifling - it was hard not to do SOMETHING.

[Feng]

Pascal eyed what the funny-looking people before him, oblivious to the hypocrisy in his assessment of the five others before him. As an androgynous pale teen garbed in the discarded castoffs he could acquire from his living as an urchin, young Pascal was not doubt probably the strangest looking person in the room.

Eyes darted back and forth among those present, not saying a word. What is there to say to strangers when partaking in forbidden activities?

Hello? Lovely weather we're having? By the by are you here about that Urban Legend about the Wanderers the Church is so hush-hush about?

No. Pascal was not one for idle chit-chat, or at least not starting it anyways. Information was a valuable currency on the street. "Knowledge is power" the old saying went and such an idiom held true even for a street rat like little Pascal. No, let one of those dumb jocks from the factory speak up first and confirm his suspicions. :3

Coughing into the sleeve of his woven poncho, the girlish look child backed a bit into the shadows to watch and wait, doing his best to hide his mischievous grin~!

[ashuros]

Anthony ended up breaking the silence, as he burst into a coughing fit, he had been in a fire and he was still coughing things up.

“Excuse me.”

The man said gasping for air. Anthony soon sat down on an loose block of stone, his legs were a bit sore from all the walking he had done in past day and he wanted to be ready for whatever came.

As he rested, the bandaged man took a moment to look to his potential compatriots around. He recognized Abra, they had hardly ever talked but he had run into one or two of his siblings from time to time besides him, he only really recognized the watch tinkerer’s son. Looking to the younger people of the group Anthony couldn’t help but sigh, they were all meant to be the next generation the people who would carry on into the future and yet they were all struggling so much.

[Vomica]

Leaning against the nearby brick wall, unabated by the filth and grim which sets the mood for the grim atmosphere of this shadowy ally way... the young man known as Abraham surveys the scene. All of these fellow citizens, turning to some unknown force for... well not aid. Nor is it help. It's more a blind act of desperation. No one, at least not him, is here in belief that whatever might come will be sunshine and rainbows... but rather just something that is not the status quo.

His sight comes onto Anthony for a few moment -- a face he recognizes at least. One he has seen in the pits, he frownsHe glances about, and says in that deep voice of his, "...I know that cough. It is not good. ...many of the furnace stokers get it."

[Blaze]

Stewart looks around at his fellow... heretics? Rebels? Depends on the observer. He leaned against the walk, arms folded, looking around at the others. He was used to being around those bigger than him, but normally they were under his thumb. This lot were unknowns, about to join more unknowns. It would be tough to rise to the top of this pile, but he was sure he could manage. Starting with this fellow with the cough.

Flashing Anthony a sympathetic smile, he says, "You gonna be okay there friend?"

[ashuros]

Anthony’s bandages barely hid his worried look. I had coughed so much in the past day that he had started to ignore it, though he admitted it was ultimately futile he couldn’t look at his hands without seeing those bandages and thinking about the fire.

“The cough is nothing; to be honest with you I’m more worried about my burns.”

The young man said with a laugh in an effort to defuse the seriousness of what he had said. He quickly tightened the bandages around his mouth that had gotten loose in his last fit, as he looked forward to the marked door. He was getting impatient so in an effort to distract himself he turned his attention to Abra and steward.

“What brings all of you here anyway?”

[Blindsense]

Sure, Anthony's question had been small talk - but even still it hardly merited an answer. Being in this part of town so late at night could only mean a few things these days, and none of them were particularly pleasant activities to discuss. The Wanderers' Sigil painted crudely onto the door served as answer enough.

Nobody would get the chance to respond to the idle question, however - everyone's attention would suddenly be captivated by a rather peculiar silence. Silence was a rarity in the city - so much so that the absence of the usual clanks and pops of the aging infrastructure was used in folk tales as a herald of great calamity. A chill ran down each boy's spine as the room suddenly fell silent, Anthony's idle question echoing off the walls of the room as an aura as black as death settled over the space. ;

For a moment - a long, excruciating blip in time - nothing happened. Suddenly, inexplicably, one of the dim lights in the room simply vanished. No sign of its demise was seen - it simply disappeared, a sphere of inky black void taking its place. One by one, each light in the room followed suit, until the blackness enveloped each of the boys and everything around them.

The sheer silence was nerve-wracking; more maddening than any of the melodies of the slum pipes could ever hope to be. This was the stuff of nightmares; in an instant, every black tale that the boys had ever been told about the Wanderers sped through their minds. On the surface, the situation didn't seem so dire - the lights had simply gone out. But from the boys' perspective, they had just dropped without warning into the pits of Hell itself.

[Knight Errant]

Feramin had not really wanted to speak to anyone present... he really wasn't much for small talk in the best of times... and this situation was far from the best. He had spent his time peering at the others through the window between his coat and his hat... silently watching. It isn't until the lights begin going out that he finally speaks.

"... damnit." Comes the soft sound of the young man's voice. Then soon after the others can hear fumbling in the darkness... then faint sounds of unzipping and rummaging around... "I have a candle and matches in one of these pockets..."

[Blaze]

it's true what they say. You don't realize how much you rely on something until it's gone. As the lights go out and the noise of the city vanishes into silence, Stewart's whole body tenses up from the sudden novel situation. He tries to cling to the wall for some kind of support.

For most of his life, he had had some degree of control. Over others, over his situation. But now, he was at the mercy of the Wanderers.

[ashuros]

Anthony’s eyes widened sharply as the bandaged man tried to force his vision to adapt to the sudden darkness. Slowly he rose to his feet and using his hand to guide himself walk back against a wall.

While still unable to see through the darkness Anthony felt as safe in the knowledge that he wouldn’t be hit from behind. As he tightened his fists in preparation of the attack of some unseen adversary, the young man was caught off guard as his throat tightened and he felt powerless to do anything but cough. Anthony desperately tried to stop but with each successful attempt his coughing fit would just start again, hopefully those around him would be less paranoid and realize the source of the cough.

[Blindsense]

Despite the apparent drama of the situation, nothing seemed to be happening aside from the darkness. It was merely... Black. Empty space. If the boys couldn't feel the weight of their bodies they would be perfectly justified in thinking that they had suddenly popped into space.

"You know..." Suddenly a voice rang out through the blackness, cutting into each boy's mind like a hot knife - though the voice itself was rather matter-of-fact and unassuming. "For a bunch of boys ready to start a revolution, you sure don't handle the darkness very well. Try communicating, why don't you! You'll never figure this out on your own."

[Blaze]

Stewart instinctively turns towards the voice, fists clenching as he struggles to regain his composure.

"Hah... I don't think shutting off power to a section of the city is a particularly sneaky initiation. But fine, let's play it your way."

Taking a deep breath, he speaks in a clear, strong voice, one that belongs to someone used to giving the orders.

"Everyone! Take small steps only, use your hands to feel to make sure you don't bump into anything."

[Knight Errant]

Feramin rolls his eyes in the darkness. He thinks about making a comment about cursing darkness instead of lighting candles, but instead decides to just go for it. Taking out a small, thick candle and rattling a box of matches... he grins. "Right..." He takes out one of the wooden strike-anywhere matches and feels for the wall he was leaning against... once he has it, he goes to strike up the match and put it to the candle wick.

[ashuros]

After what felt like forever Anthony’s coughing fit finally stopped, his throat though sore didn’t feel as sensitive with some luck the fits would stop for now. Relived though somewhat embarrassed the burned man’s thought turned to the challenge at hand, it was clear this was a test though the ultimate goal was somewhat unclear. For the moment Anthony decided speak up to offer his own method of improving visibility within the room as well as alerting those near him of his location.

“Is anyone close to the front door we might be able to let some light in from the street.”

[Blindsense]

Stewart instinctively turns towards the voice, fists clenching as he struggles to regain his composure.

"Hah... I don't think shutting off power to a section of the city is a particularly sneaky initiation. But fine, let's play it your way."

Taking a deep breath, he speaks in a clear, strong voice, one that belongs to someone used to giving the orders.

"Everyone! Take small steps only, use your hands to feel to make sure you don't bump into anything."

"Ah... A leader amongst you. Most groups have one." The voice almost sounded sardonic as it echoed through the darkness. "Tell me, boy - have you ever felt the burden of leadership? Do you know what consequences lie beyond every initiative, every command?"

Feramin rolls his eyes in the darkness. He thinks about making a comment about cursing darkness instead of lighting candles, but instead decides to just go for it. Taking out a small, thick candle and rattling a box of matches... he grins. "Right..." He takes out one of the wooden strike-anywhere matches and feels for the wall he was leaning against... once he has it, he goes to strike up the match and put it to the candle wick.

How odd. Feramin can hear the match strike against the box - he can even feel the soft heat of the flame that results. However, no light appears.

"Occam's Razor, my boy," the voice chides. "A clever attempt. Unfortunately, in this world things are rarely as straightforward as they seem."

After what felt like forever Anthony’s coughing fit finally stopped, his throat though sore didn’t feel as sensitive with some luck the fits would stop for now. Relived though somewhat embarrassed the burned man’s thought turned to the challenge at hand, it was clear this was a test though the ultimate goal was somewhat unclear. For the moment Anthony decided speak up to offer his own method of improving visibility within the room as well as alerting those near him of his location.

“Is anyone close to the front door we might be able to let some light in from the street.”

The voice did not respond. However, as the boys would move about (assuming they followed Stewart's initiative) they would notice something rather peculiar indeed. Though the room that they had been standing in was very small, they never seemed to encounter any of the stray objects or even any walls nearby. It was as if they had been placed into a black, empty expanse - like they were no longer in the room at all.

"Feeling uncomfortable yet?" The voice goads. "My apologies. Perhaps I should shed some light on the situation." Suddenly, off in the distance, the boys would indeed see a pinprick of light - like a door had been left ajar some distance away. "Many are not cut out to dwell in the darkness. They fear the unknown - they would rather accept the coddling light, regardless of whether it was truly good for them." A ghostly laugh peels through the expanse, seeming to reverberate off of a thousand surfaces at once. "So tell me boys, do you seek the light? Or do you wish to dwell in the darkness, in uncertainty and fear, in pursuit of something... Greater?"

The boys would get a rather peculiar feeling about the light. There was something familiar about it, indeed - but this familiarity was not entirely comfortable. It seemed warped... Twisted, somehow.