The Escapists (Closed)

[MBRShorse]

Only a few spots left! Be sure to send in a form ASAP, or you may not get a spot!

[tide.]

[ please save me the inventor :3 ]

[MBRShorse]

I will do my best!

[Rhapsodii___x]

[[ I'm working on an aviator form now if it's not too late :O ]]

[MBRShorse]

[[ I'm working on an aviator form now if it's not too late :O ]]

It's not, but there is some stiff competition. I already have one form I am very pleased with and another coming in soon. Acceptance isn't guaranteed.

[Rhapsodii___x]

[[ Ah okay, well I'll try my best >_< ]]

[Temperance.]

I made a chat for the roleplay, so if the people who have joined want to chat about plotlines and such please feel free to join ^-^ The link is in my siggy and right here.

[MBRShorse]

Chapter 1: The Voyage Begins

Chapter Master: MBRShorse

Location: London, England at the docks of the great airships. Imagine wooden ramps stretching out into the unknown, only air between you and the invisible ground.

Once upon time there were six tiny people. Each was different and each was special. No two were alike, and though they may have passed each other on the streets of a past life, they were all strangers. One day, five of them recieved a letter in the mail inviting them to board the world famous airship Reverie. Another saw it sitting in port and quietly created a plan in her little head. They were all looking for the same, small thing: an escape. It came in a different form for each of them, but it the end it was all the same. They wanted out. They needed to leave wherever they were and just get away from everything. Each tiny person was on the run from something that only they could see. Rest assured, they found their escape, and so much more...so much more....

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Fidelia was dressed in black. She liked to pretend that she was in a state of eternal mourning, though the idea of mourning was a concept she found to be pointless and useless. Tears and sadness were not going to suddenly bring the dead back to life. All it did was leave the cryer in a shameful state of snot and blubbering words. It was almost disgraceful. But the black set her red hair on fire, so to be ranked among the mourning was a small price she was willing to pay for such a contrast. She didn't care what other thought of her anyway. She had better things to think about.

The airship was bigger than she had imagined. The billowing, off-white ballon that held the whole thing up was atleast twice the size of her own mansion back in Lerwick. Copper wires hugged the giant entity and attached it to a bronze body that was decorate with ornate reliefs of mythical creatures, such as mermaids iand unicorns, things she hardly believed in, but she did found the craftsmanship of the art to be quite good. She was more fascinated, however, with the shining windows that reflected the silver sky that hung above her. It gave the entire ship a rather ethreal feeling. With such a fine and large vessel, ths journey was bound to be grand. Now, all she had to do was find someone to carry in her luggage for her. She had been staring at the Reverie for nearly twenty minutes, but not a soul had come out to greet her or offer to assist her with her bags. Maybe she was early. It wouldn't be the first time.

Fidelia gripped the handle of the violin case she held in her left hand. In her right hand was a larger case, built to carry a French horn. Behind her were two large, leather suitcases stuff with her clothing and other necessities, including sheet music. Somewhere beneath all of the fabric was a flute in it's case, since it was the only instrument she was willing to have "man-handled". Leaning up against her suitcases was a cello case, which someone hadn't stolen yet, to her surprise. On the streets it would fetch a handsome price. Perhaps the people in London were kind, moral folk. Well, not kind enough to help her, but at least they weren't thieves.

With a sigh, Fidelia leaned back to sit upon a suitcase, but her bustle got in her way. Blasted thing. Her mother had insisted that she wear it. Fidelia had only done so in order to shut the woman up. Corsets she was fine with, but these metal contraptions used to make her back-side look larger really drove her up a wall. They were useless, pointless, and got in the way of daily activities. Once she got on the ship, it was coming off, if she ever got on the ship. She pulled a pocketwatch out of her skirt pocket. 10:37. They left in less than 30 minutes. Why hadn't anyone shown up yet? Did she have the days mixed up? Fidelia let an irritated sigh escape her lips. She began to count the cobblestones beneath her feet as boredom slowly crept up on her. Not today. Not today.

[Raella]

She never slows down
She doesn't know why but she knows that when she's
all alone, feels like its all
c o m i n g d o w n
She won't turn around
The shadows are long and she fears if she cries
that first tear, the tears will not stop
r a i n i n g d o w n

So stand in the rain
Stand your ground
Stand up when it's all crashing down
You stand through the pain
You won't drown
And one day, whats lost can be found
You stand in the rain

Arrabelle inhaled. Fresh, cold air filled her lungs, the air of opportunity, the air of hope. It was open air; the kind only found where an airship could be piloted, and she loved it. Shouldering her single suitcase, the young woman strode down the streets of London, unflinchingly ignoring the tittering of several well-dressed ladies as she passed by. Arrabelle was never one for fancy things, preferring to dress more practically; accesories were all fine and good, but clothing should most definitely not hinder her in any activity. She never wore long, heavy skirts and she scorned any functional corset, though admittedly she quite fancied the ones that didn't pinch her waist, rather were there to just look nice. Like the leather one she was wearing now, over her white collared shirt. Despite the whispers and reproachful glances directed at her for it, Belle was glad she wore trousers, because the only thing more humiliating than crashing a borrowed airship was tripping over a long skirt. Unfortunately, she knew from experience, and was most definitely not going to let anything ruin today.

This was the day that she would board the Reverie, the most famous airship of it's time. A masterpiece of engeneering, the airship was by far the largest and most complex ever built; the veritable Titanic of its day. She rounded the corner of the street and there it was. The ship she'd read so much about. The ship she'd become facinated and enchanted by. It was perfect. Arrabelle had, of course, marveled over pictures of it, but seeing the Reverie in person was breathtaking. Her trained eyes scanned the ship from top to bottom, analyzing every mechanical detail, every shining copper wire stretched over the pale ballon, no doubt filled with either heated air or hydrogen. "My god," she whispered. Never had Arrabelle seen an airship so huge, so magnificent. Her hands longed to take the wheel of that giant, if only for a second.

As her eyes drifted down the airship, she noticed a woman clothed entirely in black with various suitcases scattered around near the figure. "Hello," Arrabelle called, walking eagerly down the dock, "are you here to board the Reverie?"

{I'm just thrilled to start this roleplay! Hey Ashwyn, glad to see you^^

[kitten;]

patrick jane
fears losing everything he loves
is thirty-one years old
has a voice inside his head
is a con man
but wants to love someone again

i was just guessing, at numbers and figures
pulling the puzzles a p a r t
questions of science, science and progress
do not speak as loud as my h e a r t
;;;
nobody said it was easy
oh, it's such a shame for us to p a r t
nobody said it was easy
no one ever said it would be this hard
oh, take me back to the s t a r t

Hefting the heavy suitcase in his hand, Patrick walked along the dark alleyway, the way ahead only lit by the narrow shafts of sunlight shining in through the open holes. Various things above his head blocked the light from entering the narrow corridor; clothes mostly, but some peasants were arguing from across the open space. He winced a bit as an unexpected clang came from above. Not exactly wanting to figure out what had happened up above, he quickened his pace through the strangely lit area, so wrapped in his own thoughts that he barely noticed when he roughly bumped into a boy, no older than eighteen, if he was correct. The boy looked rather trustworthy, but he narrowed his eyes slightly in suspicion, all laughter suddenly gone from his expression. The boy mumbled an apology and quickly shuffled away; too quickly to be natural.

Patrick would have gone after him, but he was probably already late for the boarding and upon further inspection of the quickly retreating silhouette, he could deduce that the boy was no more than an urchin. Wincing again as another clang echoed throughout the narrow path, he quickened his pace in the correct direction, trying not to think about his wallet, even though the personality seemed to enjoy it; he didn’t seem to realize that his identification had been in there, as well as q quite large sum of money. His invitation was in another pocket, however, so that wouldn’t be much of a problem if he needed to prove that he was indeed a passenger.

’That's a good thing you did there, Pat. I would have done the same, actually--did you notice his clothes? No more than an urchin. You kept him alive for another week, good on you.’

Patrick snorted softly, rolling his eyes minutely as he murmured, "It's a wonder you didn't give everything away for others--you could have easily been a clinic doctor for the poor. I wonder where that would have left me..."

The inner personality rolled his eyes. 'Nowhere. Now hurry up and catch that ship before I do it myself.’

Patrick chuckled softly, now noticing that he was safely out of the alleyway and right by the ports--it was an empty threat, that much was obvious, but it made him wonder how, if ever, his old personality would come back. Not that he wanted it to, actually--he quite liked being himself. He referred to the other presence as simply a consciousness that had found its way into his mind; they were simply too much alike to be sharing one brain. Although the being protested this train of thought, identifying clearly what had happened, avoiding the emotional parts, for fear that he would break down--he simply didn't know how they would have made the switch, a rather peculiar question that, surprisingly, his other personality didn't have a clear answer for.
His train of thought trailed off, and he looked around for the ship, his face lighting up when he saw it.

"It's..."

'…beautiful,' His other personality mused, sounding just as awestruck as he felt.
At once, he felt a flood of emotions--hope, longing, excitement--but mostly hope. He could finally get away from this would and start something new, all because of an invitation...strange, one tiny sheet of paper had changed his whole life.

His mind blissfully blank except for the dozens of emotions swarming around, trying to get a hold, he stared at the marvelously crafted airship with dumbstruck awe, his feet carrying him towards the loading dock unconsciously. He barely registered what appeared to be two women next to him as he continued to gaze at the ship, setting his case down lightly next to him, not taking his eyes off of the magnificent beauty in front of him. He couldn't form words, couldn't speak to the human being next to him. Patrick felt a sense of wonderment he had only felt as a small child, and he was going to embrace it, no questions asked. This was the first day of his new life, for sure.

{{ This roleplay is going to be amazing; can't wait to really start! c:
I apologize for the filler and overall fluffiness of this post. My muse has dried up at the worst time, and this was the best I could churn out...it would be a lot better, had I the time P: }}