Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Sycamore, Aug 26, 2014.

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  1. [​IMG]

    There is no death in this world.

    Cyborgs roam the streets, disfigured and metallic once-people who were now 20%, 40%, 60% metal, their organs and limbs and eyes and features replaced by the dull shine of iron. Machine hearts tick away in every fifth person. Grand airships glide through the skies, their enormous gears and engines thrumming with a quiet power. Around them, hovercraft and planes zoom around like gnats on a beast, speeding off to whatever destination they had in mind.

    There is no death in this world.

    But there is sickness.

    There is overcrowding. The rats run rampant in the streets in swarms that'll kill you if you stay too still. Cockroaches and other foul insects crawl over food and into water sources. Disease is everywhere. A new one emerges every few decades to decimate the population, to cut it back in vain. There are simply too many people. And more and more are being replaced with metal each year.

    The Luster is the newest disease. And it only affects metal. Flesh and blood need not worry about the fungus that eats away at the metal parts and drills deeper and deeper into one's body until the tick tick ticking metal heart rusts away and stops.

    The corruption is incredible. Practically everyone is a thief. It's hard to survive any other way. The best thieves are simply those who aren't seen. Everyone tries to carve a living for themselves and their families. Many are homeless, burning barrels of garbage each winter night in hopes of staying warm. At least the cyborgs have some sort of advantage in this aspect. They can't feel the cold creeping up and claiming their bodies as its own.

    There is no death in this world.

    People can die, can be killed, even. But their parts are simply recycled, given to another dying citizen. Everyone is part of someone else.

    There is no death in this world.

    But this world is on the brink of death.
  2. [​IMG]

    Cassie picked her way through the refuse pile, hoping to find useful parts she could haul back to the garage. Her boots crunched on the broken glass as she took a step forward and leaned over the nasty piece of twisted, sharp metal, straining to reach the nails that lay forgotten on the ground. With a clang, they stuck to the magnet clutched within her hand.

    "Great," she thought. "Screws are so damn expensive these days. I'm so lucky I don't have to buy any when I can just find them in a Luster-ridden place like this." She glanced at her other hand, the metal one attached to her stump of a wrist, and slipped off the glove, examining the expensive titanium that glinted in the cloud-dimmed sunlight. "No sign of the Luster. Not yet, at least." The hand had costed her a fortune to replace, almost a month's earnings, after the last one had been torn apart in a factory accident. Since then, she'd retired to the safety of her home, and with the help of a friend, started up her own repair service. In a way, she was kind of a doctor. People brought their toys, machines, even their own mechanical limbs and body parts to her to be fixed. And she never overcharged for a job, not like the other repair shops did. Well, then again, the other repair shops didn't go around sneaking into people's homes and pocketing their valuables at night.


    After a long day at work, Cassie finally closed shop, locking the metal door in place as she left her workshop for the night. When most kids were at school, Cassie was in her workshop, tinkering away at gears and nuts and bolts, trying to bring this clock or that toy back to life. She'd finished her obligated 12 years of schooling when she was 15. No need for that anymore.

    Returning to her dingy apartment, she changed into the familiar black Dexiform tights and tunic and tied up her bright blond hair, tucking every last strand beneath a black hood and scarf. Her metal joints clicked and spun, clearly in need of an oiling. They'd have to wait for now. Couldn't afford dirtying the gloves with the oil. She opened a window and glanced up at the moon, wrinkling her nose in disgust. A full moon. Full visibility. No thief likes a full moon on a night of stealing.

    She climbed out the window, grabbing on to the gutter pipe and scaling it like a monkey. Her metal hand made soft thucking noises each time it touched the metal pipe, oddly loud in the quiet of the night. The great clock to the west whirred and clicked, ringing ten times. The enormous gears were visible from behind the translucent clockface, the bowels of the machine visible for all to see. The small, dark figure swooped down into the city and headed towards the rich district. The bright, warm lights seemed to welcome the thief as she descended upon their rooftops.
  3. My charaters POV.

    Chapter 1

    It started in a room with me trying to fiddle with myself. Not THAT WAY! I was trying to pull out the one thing that keeps us in this city of fumes and lifeless people. A chip implanted in our hearts. I heard of this while my...watchers...we're talking about these tracking devices implanted in our hearts to track where we where at any time, any place. You get the idea. But it was thankfully not inside that the heart. It was right under the skin where the chest was. Just had to cut the skin just enough to let the chip...bleed it's curcuts onto the floor to take it out. And trust hurt like crap. But there was a legend to this. The robotic parts supposilly shoot a circut towards your heart and supposet to make you shrink at an execrating pace. Which it did. But life to me didn't matter in general. Untill...untill I met "Cassy" Pond. Of course, with the shrinking thing going on.


    It was 2025, rainy and slightly foggy.
    The kind of days I like.
    I was trying to steal like scraps of food for me and my sister for the long day ahead of us and while I was at it, trying to find a way for me toget off this land before I shrink to nothing. With the chip out of my body. I felt more mobile. Sure my robotic arm doesn't feel like a part of my body anymore, but, what are you going to do?
    I managed to get a pound of cheese and a few tea bags. Which were all peppermint. Anyway, the only plus side to the slightly shrinking thing was that little kids thought you we're one of Santa's cyborg elves that stole there crappy leftovers in exchange for toys or new upgrades. It's been only 6 hours since I removed the chip and now I'm a freaking 1.5 ft. tall and already having an exteremly tough time trying to get food.
    "Jesus. 1 hour of stealing and that's all I got! Now anyway, got to find a way out of he-" That's when I bumbed into her. Ms. Cassipoa Pond.
  4. Seamstress, green

    Faye barely controlled her disgust as the man gulped down another one of his so called exquisite delicacy. She merely gave a slight smile and politely placed another morsel into her mouth. The food didn't tasted any better than the slop they serve in the street. It always amazes her how the elites of this world of grime and steel would haughtily stare down at the common and speak of their great food, homes, and life. It was all same in the end. Everyone was living for themselves. From the lowly beggar whose bodies were ravaged by luster to the purest of nobles drinking wine to their newest illusion of stability. Faye knew this better than most, and she wasn't any better. She wanted to live her life in luxury. No more scraps in the street. No more fights, thefts, and getting knocked down. She would rise above them all.

    The man startled Faye with a question. She hadn't heard the words, so she quickly replied, "Pardon me, can you repeat that? I was marveling at your fine clockwork sculpture. It is quite intricate. I would dearly love to meet it's maker."

    The man's greasy smile made her shudder a bit, "Ah. I'm glad you've noticed. I've acquired this piece from a broker from Lowtown. That place is filled with vermin, but it seems you can find a few creative souls. The wonderful thing is I got this piece for a pittance. The creator was in dire need of medical treatment, so he sold this cheaply. I've heard he is now dead, so this piece has grown in value since it now can no longer be replicated. Anyway, as I was saying, it would be quite delightful if you would join me in the coming ball. I've got many friends who would love to meet you."

    Faye's stomach felt uneasy as he continued to speak. She had seen so many die in the streets from worse. She hoped the creator of this sculpture spent that pittance well. She turned to the man and smiled. It was getting harder to smile by the second. "I would love to." It seems her plan had worked for now. She glanced at her pocket watch. It was definitely time to leave this household. She gave her most calculated smile yet, "Oh my. Look at the time. It was certainly a pleasure to have dinner with you, but I must be off. I had an important engagement to attend. He didn't look pleased, but he escorted her out. His touch on her arms made her want to puke.

    "Would you like me to get you a car?" he said politely. She didn't want him to know where she went since any car he would bring would likely be under his care. "No thank you, I've had one sent for earlier in the day," Faye refused politely. Her farewell was short. She saw him leer at her from behind. Faye wanted to break his nosed with her gloved metal hands to badly, but she remembered her goal. She had her access into the ball. So far it was going well for her plan. There was still much to be done, but she was exhausted after dealing with him.

    After a couple turns into the alleyways, she found one empty. She quickly packed her dress into a hidden pouch and put on something more casual. It was simple brown work dress. Faye was done with this dress and needed to refit it into something new. It was tiring work, but she needed to pretend to be noble. It was certainly helpful to have two mechanical hands. Weaving her way into the streets took some time, but she wanted no followers. Once home she collapsed onto her bed. There were fabric haphazardly lain out across the room and the bed itself. Unfinished patterns covered several tables, and sketches of new ones were piled high. It was a long day and Fay deserved some rest. In this world of rust and ruin, Faye hoped to rise above all and live her life beautifully.
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