| The continuing tales of Argus Drake |
[16 Mar 2003|10:45pm] |
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Nine Inch Nails - And All That Could Have Been |
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Iavin's fingers curled around a goblet of wine. He reached around for another, his digits surrounding the stem and loosely cupping the glass. The buzz of conversation was all about the castle - lighthearted voices of the common people exchanged throughout the hall. They were all dressed in their finest - the women were often seen in the traditional, patchwork dresses and laced leather boustiers, and checked cor-du-roi adorned the men - usually accented with steel bracers, vambracers, or a gorget. The king wove through the crowds, (which to most Outer Rim folks would look more like the celebrants at a harvest festival, rather than guests of royalty) nodding his hellos, ending them with a broad, true smile.
The door spiralled open as Iavin approached it, it's fan-like panels giving way to reveal Argus's room. "I hope you're decent?" He said quietly, with a wink.
"Sir-Argus-Drake-His-Majesty's-Cartographer is always decent, Your-Highness-The-Guardian's-Son-Iavin!" The bear of a man spun around as if rehearsed, revealing what he had chosen to wear for the evening.
"By the Star, Argus!" Iavin raised his eyebrows and smiled, setting the wine glasses down on a convenient end table. "You clean up nicely," He said smugly, crossing his arms.
"I'd say the same at you, Liege, but yer always the clean'n." Argus chuckled, straightening his own cloat and folding his collar. "They treat me like royalty here, you've got to tell yer attendants that I'm jes' a dirty ol' airjockey."
"Nonsense! You are royalty. You are my friend, and that's close enough." Argus scooped up the king in a tight embrace, almost cutting off his air supply. An embrace that Iavin missed - even considering Argus's size and considerable strength.
"Awwww, Iavin, yer a special sort."
"I'm gonna be a dead sort if you don't loosen your embrace!" Iavin laughed, faking a cough.
"Haven't missed too much of the party, 'ave I?" Argus asked anxiously.
"You kidding me? There is no party without the Storyteller!"
"Aw no, they want the whole adventure from me eh?"
"You bet they do," Iavin smirked. "the children especially await the tale of Argus Drake and the eschra storm,"
"By t'heavens, they 'eard of that one?" He nearly stopped in his tracks, fond memories of the Etherium flooding back into his mind.
"Your traveling companion has been buttering them up." As they entered the main hall, Iavin nodded to Dune, surrounded by a small flock of youngsters.
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"And THEN, they realized what it was...It was...It was..."
"METEORITES!" One child shouted.
"ICE COMETS!"
"STAR HOPPERS!" Came more cries.
"ESCRA!" Dune bellowed, holding her hands out to demenstrate the size of the pieces. "THIS BIG!"
"GROSS!" All the children fell into fits of giggles, as Argus and Iavin approached.
"Well Argie, there's one story you won't have to tell 'em." Dune reached up and jumped a bit to reach and fuss with Argus's hair.
"An' too bad, lass, that's the best one, if it tells yeh anything about me adventures in Inner Space."
"Sorry if I deprived you of that." She winked and turned to the flock of children. "Alright ladies and gentlemen, it's the man of the hour!"
"ARGUS!" They all screamed, piling up around him and hugging him. He lifted a few up, carrying them on his head and shoulders, walking around with a dozen clinging to his legs.
"You've got more fans than I have." Iavin noted, watching as a little, black-haired girl looked up at Iavin in sighing admiration. He smiled and picked the girl up, toting her over to listen to Argus.
"Yer all looks, pretty boy!" Argus shouted back, heading towards the dais where he would spin his tales.
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The crowd assembled as Argus lit his pipe and fit it to his mouth. The scent of a common South Silanvarian fungus filtered through the room, and silence spread from the dais through the crowd of commonfolk, all together, without hierarchy. He cleared his throat as they all took their seats on the rug, and in his rich, smooth voice, he began his tale.
( Pirates of the Dark Naranjan )
Argus relaxed, leaning into a stool he had set down for himself, coming to the end of his pipe. "Now, ladies and gents, I'd love to say I was the hero of the story, but for the Malakai, there was no hero. I came too late, and the Malakai was disabled. It's engines were nearly destroyed in the blast, and half the crew had been similarly 'disabled'. As for Captain Ragenta Traniel...Her body, living or dead, was never found. Some say the blast was so great that it sent her to the Seventh of the Havens, where she rightfully belonged. A captain to the angels. As for me, I eventually found my way back to a spaceport in Innerspace, near Montressor, known as Crescentia. From there, I met up with Captain Pendragon Flint - whom most of you know from my other tales - and got onboard the R.L.S. Etherium."
He paused, smiling widely at the crowd. "And that, ladies and gentlemen,"
"Is another story for another time!" Everyone chanted in unison, applauding Argus's tale.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"You'd think they'd get sleepy of it, chap." Argus looked over at Iavin, who was reclining with a glass of wine in his hand.
"Silanvari don't get out much. It's like a holography room to us."
"Boy, I 'd like to see that group in a holography room."
"Instant evolution..." Iavin said softly, beginning to fade into sleep.
That took me three days to write. My writing for this one was awful. Was it as boring to read as it was to write? XD you can tell me the truth. I hated writing this, but I wanted to write SOMETHING.
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[13 Feb 2003|03:03am] |
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Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here |
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The Basilica Domus Lux Lucis was as beautiful as Argus remembered. As he grew, the great Lighthouse Cathedral's greatness never diminished. Even the atheists felt holy here - and that's why they strayed away. Even the deaf can hear the voice of the Guardian when they enter. The Vorago Astrum, that great violet crystal that fell from the sky, is the holiest of artifacts in the Outer Rim. Some say it sings with the voice of the Guardian Star.
The building itself was carved from a massive crystal cave. Skeptics say that the acoustics inside account for the strange, melodic voices and whispers that are often heard - but any Silanvarian will tell you otherwise. It consists of three main rooms - the Vorago room, the Smithy's room, and the Magick room. The largest of the three, of course, is the one used to house the Vorago. This is the first room entered after guests are smudged (purified with the smoke of sweet-smelling resins - usually dried sap from the World Trees) in the entry hall.
To Silanvarians, there is little separation between daily life and religion. They are merged, and in the eyes of the Silanvari, that is the only way they can be. Religion, in most cultures, has a way of making people uncomfortable. The Guardian Star cult in Silanvar is a relaxed, flexible religion - they believe that there is a spark of the divine in all things - they are true "animists," - not secretive at all (why would they be?), nor exclusive, nor do they hold the belief that their way is the only way.
Iavin, his two guards, Dune, and Argus, entered the Basilica. They were smudged by the Guardian's Handmaidens - their sweet, small voices singing as they brushed the group with feathers, moving the smoke over and around them. When they were done, the Handmaidens withdrew, and cleared the way for Iavin and the rest to pass.
Before them was the great Astrum Vorago - the Gift of the Guardian Star. As tall as Argus, and about as wide, this violet, crystalline shard was suspended in a net, attatched to the ceiling of the cave. It hung down, and when you stood underneath it, you could see it gleamed with an inner magic.
"Just as it fell from the sky." Iavin marvelled as he approached the Vorago, casting his eyes upward. The crystals, naturally lining the cave wall, reflected the Vorago's luminescence, and it hummed off the walls like a song. The song of the universe, in perfect order. Iavin stopped at the cave wall and turned around to face his companions. "Please draw your swords." Complying in perfect unison, they all unsheathed their swords and held them at their sides.
"Hail to the Sailor's Star!" He intoned, and everyone raised their swords to the Vorago.
"Hail!" they repeated.
"Hail to the Lighthouse of Silanvar!"
"Hail!"
"Hail to the Guardian!"
"Hail!"
"To all of life, shed your light. Lead the lost and guide the wandering. Protect our friends and our enemies alike, in honesty, feed them both and equally love them." All laid down their swords in the circle they stood in around the Vorago, and each sword pointed at the violet stone, gleaming with it's light. "Compassion and mercy to all."
They knelt to retrieve and sheath their swords, and went, on their way, smiling and continuing their conversations. "The Grandmaster Smith will be thrilled to see you again, Argus," Iavin started, looking back to the cyborg. "I bet he can still remember what you were wearing the day you recieved your sword!"
"He's a bright man, the Smithy is. Momory sharp as a diamond pike that man 'as." Argus said softly.
"Many lives, many masters," Came Iavin's reply, as he stepped through the threshold to the Smith's chamber. "Hail, Grandmaster Macha!" He kneeled to the smith, and the others followed suit.
( The conversation with Grandmaster Smith Macha, the Voice of the Guardian )
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[12 Feb 2003|11:15pm] |
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Radiohead - Knives Out |
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"It Takes Time" by Glen Phillips
(Dune's Theme)
( lyrics )
Argus felt the ship shudder as the bowl engines started up, and the Ragnarok proceeded to dock in Navale Silanvarus. He pulled on his boots nervously, and strapped Amos in it's ornate scabbard to the baldric over his shoulder. His toes throbbed with pain from the injury that Amos had dealt him accidentally, but he gritted his teeth and forced his face into a shaky smile, before taking a look at himself in the mirror.
Iavin meant a lot to Argus. He owed the king his life, just as he owed Anna and Eustace. It was because of Iavin that he had money, that he had food and clothes - it was because of Iavin that he met Dune. The king had taught him nearly everything he now knows about diplomacy, weapons, swordplay, Soilcraft, navigation, culture, and love. Though Iavin had been Argus's friend for some eighteen years, now, he still preened himself in the mirror, trying to look his best - like a proper Silanvarian.
Not that he did - he wasn't from Silanvar to begin with - but he wore all the proper trappings. His huge build and broad shoulders, masculine hips (most Silanvari, even the men, have wider hips than most races), down to his large feet - and the smaller details - his lack of eyebrows, his green eyes, and his cybernetics all betrayed his status as an outsider. Argus was put out a bit by this fact...And for a moment, he wondered why Iavin accepted him as he did.
But that was quickly shut out of his mind...Iavin had never denied anyone help who needed it. The king meant love itself to Argus...The purest, most beautiful and simple kind. Romantics are too complex, family is forced; Iavin was not a lover (that in itself seemed odd to Argus), or a brother. He was Iavin.
"ARGUS!" Dune bellowed from above, "Get yer arse back up here!"
"Yes ma'am!" He shouted in return. Well, that broke him out of his reverie pretty quickly. Good thing, too.
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When he arrived on deck, he was treated to a sight of the breathtakingly beautiful Navale Silanvarus airship port. There, waiting for him, was the gem set in the golden band - King Iavin Lambert of Silanvar - his friend, his confidante, his teacher. His goldenrod cape stirred in the light breeze, and his eyes were half open as if he was shielding them from the noise that the Ragnarok's engines gave off. There, in all his splendour, was the King of Silanvar. The Sustan Star shone off of his silver gorget and girdle, and they shone like diamonds in the sun. Iavin used his right hand as a visor from the blinding glare of the Sustan Star, and stared up at the Ragnarok.
Dune eased the ship down into port and extended the plank down to meet with the dock. Almost instantly, Argus flew down the plank, before realizing that his injured foot was...Well..Not coming with him. He tripped, of course, on his own foot, and fell the rest of the way down. What an entrance. Argus, you astound me. He thought to himself, feeling his face flush with color.
"Argus!" Iavin's footsteps fell lightly on the dock as he ran to help the fallen cyborg. "Fantastic, I give it an 8.5!" He knelt down to Argus's side and offered his hand and arm. "You try too hard, my boy, work on the approach next time." Iavin's grin spread across his face.
"Hail, king Iavin! I'd kneel, but I'm sure yeh can see I'm in a bit of a bad position here." He clasped Iavin's hand and was soon on his feet. "All the pirate fightin's made me a bit lame, I'm sure yeh can see that?"
Iavin laughed, wrapping his arms around Argus and embracing him tightly. Argus returned the embrace with a great bear hug, lifting Iavin off the ground, and finished it off by mussing his hair. (Obviously, this man was not a king in the "western" sense - putHenry XIV in that position, and he'd have you beheaded.) At this time, Dune descended (without falling) from her perch atop the Ragnarok, and stood behind Argus.
"Sister Maelstrom," He bowed to Dune, before embracing her as well. "Always a pleasure. It's good to see you've both arrived safely!"
"It's good to be here, sir." Dune beamed a smile at Iavin, the man who had called her 'sister' since she arrived, ten years ago. Originally, it was a venerable title - much as holy women are called 'sister' - to the Silanvari, Dune arrived from the stars much as the Astrum Vorago did. It still holds it's purpose, but as their comeradeship came to fruition, they became like siblings unto eachother.
"Off to the Basilica? The Grandmaster Smith also awaits your arrival."
"O'course." Argus said cheerfully, now on his feet. "I look forward a'seein' the Basilica again, and o'course seein' the Smithy is a blessing in itself."
"Then what are we waiting for?" Dune added. "Let's go!"
( Notes on music )
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[11 Feb 2003|11:47pm] |
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Parappa the Rapper - Master Chop Chop's Rap |
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OOC note of interest - new icons up. More appropriate to roleplaying within a single journal. Hehehe! Yay for multiple personalities in one body! *dances for joy* Also, I created three new backgrounds - the one that's up is Argus's of course...Also in storage are backgrounds for Iavin and Dune. Because I was bored and tired of looking at the same screen.
More heaven-scented goodness to come, chickadees.
And no, I'm not doing my homework. so there.
But, I AM listening to the Parappa the Rapper soundtrack. Shush. (I wanna see if you wanna see what it means to be the man with the masta plan - are you the man, now?) Hehehe OMG my brain...
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[11 Feb 2003|12:53am] |
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Kronos Quartet and Astor Piazzola - Despertar |
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Amos, tucked in his scabbard, rested in the palms of his master's hands, which were curled up slightly against the headboard of the bed. It was considered a superficial thing to clean a weapon of blood, so the sword still had Argus's own blood across the tip. If Amos was sentient, he would have thought that Argus must have been quite proud of his dilligence in pointing out the Guardian Star. Amos did that quite well.
Stretched out on the bed, looking rather like a dead bear, was Mr. Drake, wearing his normal affairs, and staring up at the ceiling. After packing and readying his satchel for arrival on Silanvar, he simply laid down on the bed and thought. His blank stare was unreadable, his soft, emotionless expression made it appear that he was in fact sleeping with his eyes open - or dead. Holding his sword like the effigy on a warrior's tomb, his stone-cold gaze stretching out into infinite space.
Remember your past,
Don't relive it.
Think of the future,
Don't exist in it.
Remain in the present,
But don't be hindered by it.
Those would have been the words on the side of this warrior's tomb.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. Please fasten your seatbelts and put your seats and tables in their upright position, we are beginning the descent to Silanvar." Dune's voice came over the radio, and shattered Argus's stone face into laughter. He limped, barefoot, up onto deck, his walk assisted by a decorative spear he had found hanging on the wall of his room.
"Me seatbelt's got two of the same end, miss, I was hopin' on findin' a seat up 'ere?" Argus smiled wide, gesturing to the navigation panel, behind the helm.
"That's Captain Maelstrom, and I thought I said no injured coach passengers on deck for the remainder of the flight?" Dune tried to look serious and proper, but quickly lost her composure.
"Posh, Cap'n Maelstrom, it's but a scratch. Cannah man ever get a seat with a pretty lady these days? Yeh'd think I were tryin' teh take over!" He made his way to his seat, regardless, leaning on the butt of the spear.
"Fine." She snorted, mockingly. "I had to shoot my last navigator, anyway."
"I work fer peanuts," He jested, taking his seat.
"You're hired!"
Argus nodded his reply sternly, sitting his goggles to his face and looking down at the navigational panel. He rattled off the coordinates effortlessly, and it was with that that Dune began to pull the Ragnarok into it's descent.
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"Captain Maelstrom, this is Commodore Larsen. Welcome home!" A woman's voice came over the radio, as the Ragnarok began it's approach to the port of Navale Silanvarus, on Profundum.
"Larsen, you old bat! Hah! It's great to hear your voice!" Dune shouted back to the radio.
"Same to you, Captain. The Star shines upon your arrival!" The Commodore's smile could nearly be heard through the static.
"Get Iavin to believe that, and I might follow suit, Commodore!" She jested.
"Easier said than done. The King waits for you and Sir Drake at Navale Silanvarus, dock 3. Larsen out."
((to be continued))
((because I'm lazy.))
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| This is what I get for listening to Kronos Quartet. It makes me angsty. And when I'm angsty, so is Argus. |
[10 Feb 2003|01:50am] |
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Final Fantasy 7 - Sephiroth - One Winged Angel |
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Sitting on the bed in his private quarters, Argus held his Landsknecht out in front of him. His ornamental Silanvari Guardian Sword, Amos, the kris-bladed, four-foot long, ornate teutonic weapon had not been with him in six long years. Grasping it with both hands, he pointed it out towards the door, feeling his grip tighten. The leather-wrapped hilt creaked under the intense pressure of his fists, which nearly seemed to compress the very steel of the hilt itself. He pointed it up towards the ceiling, and when he saw his reflection, Anarch looked back.
( Read more... )
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[07 Feb 2003|05:46pm] |
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OOC
I now have text messaging, for anyone who wants to send me a message ^_^ See Argus's info, or Ahnassi's info. w00t. I'm so l33t now.
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| Silanvari Guardian Swords |
[06 Feb 2003|11:52pm] |
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Argus's sword, Amos, is a work of art.
It was forged by the Basilica Domus Lux Lucis smith, Grandmaster Macha - a gift to Argus from the Guardian. The Grandmaster Smith makes one sword every year, and it it is said that the sword chooses its master depending on the will of the Guardian Star.
Amos, in partucular, is a kris bladed sword. Approximately 36" from pommel to point, the sword is fashioned in the style of a German Landsknecht. This massive, two handed sword could be artfully wielded by very few - thicker and shorter than a traditional Landsknecht, Amos is a hefty sword. For a Silanvarian Guardian sword, Amos is strangely plain - with the exception of the two ruby-lined blood grooves, and a large Hessonite Garnet adorning the pommel. This sword has never been used to draw blood.
It is said that Silanvari can tell much about a person from their Guardian sword. Since each sword picks its master, it's a highly personalized, ritualistic process. Puberty is celebrated with the Presentation of the Sword, a community festival giving thanks to the Mastersmith who has forged it with the family for a period of one year, and the coming of age ceremony for the recipient. For outsiders like Argus, they must wait until the Guardian calls him to his sword, which is forged by the Grandmaster Smith of the Basilica Domus Lux Lucis. People from other planets who come to live on Silanvar are considered gifts from the Guardian Star (especially children), and are therefore granted the swords forged from the Hands of the Guardian - the Grandmaster Smith.
Argus was 23 when he recieved Amos. Dune was 16 when she recieved Visk.
Dune's sword is a great contrast to Argus's. Hers is an elegant, wide bladed scimitar, forged of a cobalt blue steel. It is shaped like a flame. The hilt is straight, wrapped in black leather and imbedded with sapphires. The swordguard extends out into two, silver steel spikes. The pommel is the lacquered, fossilized skull of a small, pre-Silanvari Hominid creature. Visk is never used to draw blood - he is used much as a magician uses a magic wand - to direct the flow of energy. As a Necromancer, Dune finds Visk to be a most useful tool.
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| Dune Maelstrom |
[06 Feb 2003|01:13am] |
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Group X : Arabian Rap Sensatio - You'd Give Kiss If I Were On Socccer Team |
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There is no mystery in the life of the lady known as Dune Maelstrom.
She was born on Terranova V (OR co-ords: 3/5 (Third Cinquat), 3/10 (Third Dixuat), 1/15 (Ithir Numo), 3/20 (Sustan), 5/13 (Terranova V)), not long after the Fifth Divine Intervention. Dune was welcomed into a corrupt, sub-zero world - the fifth planet from the system star, Metatron.
An undocumented rural sector in the High-Caste Union of States (HCUS) was her birthplace - her parents, mother Gale Squall and father Tempest Maelstrom, both worked for the government. Gale was the high matriarchal representative of Suburbia, and Tempest was a priest at Deus est Unum, the church of the HCUS. Dune was often in favor of her father - Gale was a straight-laced government official, while Tempest was a kinder, softer gentleman.
The Zealot Riots came to Terranova V when Dune was only 4. The Zealots were known as "Catholic Crusaders," seeking to eliminate the "threat" of the popular star
Unbeknownst to Gale for several years, Tempest began teaching his daughter about the outlawed mystical trade known as Magick. By the age of seven, Dune was a discerning Mage - she had learned to hide it from her mother. Unfortunately, she had learned the Art of Decay - Necromancy. Eventually, she was discovered. Tempest was blamed by his own wife, who turned him into the authorities. He was executed. Dune was only eight, and deported from the HCUS.
Seeking to escape her infamous name on Terranova V, she commandeered her father's airship and fled to Silanvar, where she sought out the clemency of King Iavin Lambert. She was accepted into Silanvari society (as all visitors, pilgrims, and refugees are), and personally tutored by the king (Who was then only 25, himself) in swordplay, Earth and Star magick, diplomacy, speechcraft, and Silanvari culture.
Dune was placed in the care of Royal Cartographer Argus Drake (Then 20 years of age) until she was thirteen. The two traveled together for five years on various expeditions, and when it came time for them to part ways, Dune began a major overhaul of her father's ship - the Ragnarok.
((I HATE TIMELINES. I WANT THEM TO COOPERATE WITH ME. The time that Dune/Argus were partnered up probably fucks up with the time Argus was on the Nova. So, just for my own benefit (or yours, if you're anal retentive like I am), I'm going to attempt to timeline Argus.))
( stupid Argus timeline breakdown )
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| Utopia |
[05 Feb 2003|12:21am] |
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Nobuo Uematsu - Into The Darkness |
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Argus emerged from his quarters, yawning and half-dressed, and headed up on the deck. He appeared on the main deck, scratching his belly, and straining his sleep-ridden eyes to see through the break in the shield. It was still night - and according to the nav system, it was going to be night for their entire trip - which was not an appealing thought to Mr. Drake.
It was nice to be on the Ragnarok. He didn't have to be all proper and such, seeing as how Dune was rarely - if ever - embarassed of him. There were times to be diplomatic, and most times on the Ragnarok were not like that. They were relaxed, enjoyable times. His hair fell down on his shoulders, thick like black wires, as his ribbons had gotten lost in his transfer from the Etherium. At least he's be able to replace them once they arrived in the royal city of Eton - a quiet, but prosperous town centered around King Iavin's castle and the Lighthouse Cathedral.
( Notes on Silanvar )
That reminds me. Dune should have my sword.
Argus broke his reverie, and turned around to find himself face to face with the very lady he was looking for. "Well, lass, there yeh are...I was just wonderin'..."
He was rudely interrupted by her raucous laughter. "Mr. Drake! Where are your clothes?"
"Well, I fin' some of em are on me...." He smiled, gesturing down at his sleep leggings and an undershirt.
"That's no way for a Silanvar man to dress!" Dune barked, shoving him in the direction of his quarters.
"But Dune --"
"But nothing!" She cackled. "Ask me for your sword when you come back here looking like a proper gentleman, is that clear?"
"Crystal." A smirk crawled across his face.
"Oh, and Argus," She began. "Good morning."
"Oh, a blessed morn', lass. A blessed morn..." He laughed all the way to his quarters.
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| Dear god, this is a novel. |
[02 Feb 2003|08:39pm] |
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Nobuo Uematsu - Final Fantasy VI Ending Theme (Orchestrated) |
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After a slow ascent through the clouds, and finally breaking through Oberon V's thick atmosphere, the Ragnarok shot out of orbit without any difficulty. The engines were shut down, and the ship was once again enveloped in silence. The brass shields came up above the fore and aft of the ship, shielding Dune and Argus from the solar rays that existed even in this solitary, quiet darkness. The two raised from their seats, and Dune lead Argus down from the helm and onto the main deck.
"You've done a lot to 'er, just from what I can see. The shields look all nice and new...You seemed to have patched up all the burns and breaks in the hull...Tempest must be lookin' down with a smile fer 'is daughter." Argus looked down at the woman, and she cast her pale-white eyes up to the sky, the light from the Floater Chamber lighting her pale face.
"Either that, or he's cursing me for 'fancying up' his airship." She smiled a bit.
"Oh, it was a fancy thing teh begin with, lass...A fine luxury cruiser."
"Nothing but the best for a Maelstrom." She retorted, running her hand along the brass railing. "I've done a lot more outside of pulling dents out of the side that you haven't even seen yet." Dune teased.
"Well then what're ye waitin' on?"
( The tour -or- what else did you expect from the adopted daughter of a king? )
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[02 Feb 2003|12:35am] |
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Red Wings Orchestrated - Final Fantasy IV |
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"Once we get in the air, I'll show you around below deck - things have changed since you saw the Ragnarok last." Dune placed a hand on one of the brass knobs on the wheel, gripping it tightly.
"I look forward'a that, Dune," Argus smiled down at the smallish, dark-haired woman. He noticed that she had stretched on a pair of fingerless, black leather gloves. It made him miss Otto even more.
With a nod, she sat down at the helm and moved her right hand to a control panel...Flipping open a protected button and holding her finger over it. "You remember the drill?"
"Most cert'nly." He gave Dune a crisp salute, holding onto a brass hand bar.
"Beginning launch sequence. Power grid online." She returned her eyes to the button, and pressed it down with the tip of her finger. The ship shook as the altitude controls unlocked, and the sleek Ragnarok came into Dune's exclusive control. She immediately placed her foot on the altitude control, and the ship lifted effortlessly, without a sound, into the brisk morning air.
"Standby for propel phase."Her right hand still on the control panel, Dune pushed up the main thruster release lever. This was the part Argus always hated - the noise until they got through the atmosphere.
( Description of the thrust/power/navigational system (long) )
The thrusters sprung to life, the shields came down, and the ship began to shudder. "Main thrusters check. Minor thrusters check. Bowls check." She said aloud to herself, almost shouting. Giving the wheel a spin to either side, she noted their calibration and stability. Her left foot now on the thrust pedal, she raised the altitude and began applying thrust.
"Propel phase." She shouted, as the engines roared, and the ship began to lurch forward. As if cued to do so, Argus walked behind Dune and sat at the navigational panel, placing the harness down over his body and putting his hands down on the controls. "Drake, please send the co-ords to the ship for Eton, Silanvar, so we can get out into space."
"Aye Ma'am." His hands worked furiously at the panel, getting the coordinates for the system, the planet, the landmass, and finally the city. Dune was really going for it...Eton is the king's city...King Iavin...They were going to see him straight away, it seemed. "Location sent."
"co-ords revieved." She replied briskly, and engaged the main thrusters. The airship shot off into the atmosphere.
((I am never doing that again. LoL. HOW FREAKIN BORING. I want to know about King Iavin, and how Argus knows him, not about the facking history of airship travel! Argus! I'll get you next time...next tiiiiimmmmeeee!! REEEOOOOWWWRRRR))
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[01 Feb 2003|05:27pm] |
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Legend of Dragoon - If You Still Believe (1) |
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Mr. Drake made his way through Aten, to the airship docks there. They were rare these days, airship docks. Where most had been converted to better suit the newer solar galleons, a select few remained. Not that airships needed special docks anyhow, they could land anywhere on solid ground. So Argus wondered why he thought it was such a big deal...
A lone airship rested there. It hovered above the ground, encircled by it's round docking platform. This is the Ragnarok....Two hundred feet of redwood and brass. A testament to the glory of the old fleets of airships. It reminded him of the Silanvar Royal Armada - still hopefully a full fleet of these creatures. A work of art from bow to stern - sleek and beautiful, twenty feet high, with a deck that cascaded from the wheel, gracefully down in front of the captain's quarters, and up slightly to meet the prow. The deck is enclosed by two great, retractable brass shields - one at the prow, and one at the rear of the ship. When the sun catches off them it's blinding....A majestic sight while it's docked. In flight they are usually retracted.
The figurehead, carved in pine and laquered to a brilliant shine, is a dragon-winged, armored man, clutching a lance which is pointed out forth from the prow. Dune would tell you that this is the spirit of her ship - the Dragoon, she calls him. The Bringer of Ragnarok.
A figure appeared on deck...Her thick, black hair barely disturbed by the wind - her white, ghostly eyes visible even from where Argus stood. The pale white of her face like a ghost as she tucked an unruly tuft of hair back behind her ear. A soft smile emerged from her pale pink lips as she saw who was approaching.
"Hail Sir Argus Drake, son of Eustace!" She shouted from the deck, a mocking tone slightly invading the greeting.
"Hail, Lady Dune Maelstrom, spawn ah Zahgurim!" He laughed heartily, prodding at her Necromantic practices.
( The conversation )
The Floater is what makes an airship stay in the air. It's a chunk of dull, dark brown bark from the roots of World Trees in the Sustan solar system planets of Silanvar (where airships are from, incedentally), Melitud, Novaterra IV, and Ysidrasil. Since it's an Outer Rim system, airships were not popular in the inner rim. People were developing other methods of transportation, and Floater bark (which is thought to levitate the planets in space) became increasingly more rare. Only dead, dropped bark could be harvested - the trees are sacred, and protected by the system's most elite guards - Noma - spirit warriors of the World Tree god YSAIR.
Rig Glass is an almost indestructable, transparent material used in luxury cruisers to house the Floater. It's usually greenish in color, which gives it the nickname "Absinthe." Usually, the floater is sealed in a globe of rig glass, which is then held by a steel net and tacked to the deck, with a pane of material over it as decoration. In the case of the Ragnarok, the "floater shield" is a half-orb of glass, 4 inches thick, which allows light from below deck to illuminate the Floater. It's purpose is all decorational - on smaller or less luxurious ships, the floater is kept in a chest, chained below deck.
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| The trolley ride to Aten, Oberon V. |
[29 Jan 2003|07:46pm] |
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Nobuo Uematsu - Final Fantasy VI Ending Theme (Orchestrated) |
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After everything was placed, Argus made his way off the ship. Silently, and without notice. He didn't even have the time to look back...No one could see him. It would hurt too much to say goodbye. Argus was never one for goodbyes. He'd be back someday anyway, he thought, adjusting the position of the two bags slung over his shoulder.
It will be good to see Dune again, he thought, forging a smile out of his longing for the Etherium. But I'm going to miss them...
Off to the left, nearing the edge of the Wharf boundary, he found the very building he was looking for. The bank. He had a nest egg waiting for him...Hopefully they could transfer his credits from Silanvar.
"Miss?" He approached one of the tellers, pulling an identification card out of his pocket. "I've got ah bit I'd like teh withdrawl?" The withered old teller looked briefly at the portraid on the card, and then back up to Argus. "The name's Argus Drake, me IN is one the card."
"Oh, a Silanvar native." She said in her bland, monotone voice. "They don't use INs here in the Inner Rim, Mr. Drake."
"Damn. Can yeh still get me money? How many Argus Drakes can there be in the Inner Rim?" He offered the woman a smile and a soft laugh.
"Sorry." Her face turned sour, as if to say That's quite enough Mr. Drake, leave before I call Boris out to 'take care of you.'. But she spared him that but for shaking her head, and called out around Argus for the next in line. With a cracked smile, he raised his brow, nodded once, and bowed out of the bank.
It's better that I get back to the Outer Rim anyhow, He consoled himself. Ghosts of the past still wait for me back at Silanvar. Allen and his Armada will be wondering about me, no doubt.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
I'm officially off the Etherium now...And I can't say I'm filled with joy, but I have a promise to keep with a young lady and friend of mine. Her name is Dune Maelstrom. A very decent woman these days, considering the past she's had. Well as...As a Necromancer. She was well off last time I saw her, despite her father having had just died. He left the Ragnarok, his luxury airship, to her, and she's apparently gallavanting out across the universe.
Oh how I do love airships...So much easier to pilot and man than a solar galleon. No need to bother with all the sun and that rot. No sails. Sure, when the solar ships came out, no one used em anymore, but I love airships all the same. So graceful and beautiful. Romantic, even.
The more I think about it, the more I miss Allen and the SRA. I can't wait to go back to Silanvar, to visit Anna and Eustace with Dune, and to check up on the armada, and see how King Iavin's men are looking these days. I should have just stayed with them...I had everything I could have ever wanted, and the company of my friends, and my "family."
I don't even remember much about my birth mother and father. I remember we lived on Montressor...I remember the house - it was two stories. I remember the last look my father gave me when I left. But I don't know WHY I don't remember. Could be one of the numerous times I was beat to unconsciousness on the Lyric...Laugh.
Oh, the driver says we're arriving at Aten.
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| ATTN: Captain Pendragon Flint. |
[28 Jan 2003|10:20pm] |
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Nobuo Uematsu - Into The Darkness |
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((OOC: I've got an idea to keep me foot in the RPing world (because I'm going to miss you guys too much if I leave outright) - Still going to be writing in Argus's journal! So don't kick me off your friend's list quite yet, dears! If you're wondering where he had all the time to do this...He's been out in Oberon preparing.
And yes, I'd say Argus has been hiding a few secrets o_O))
A letter is pinned to the captain's door.
( Read it? )
( To Otto )
( To Shin-sin-fa )
( To Ignatious )
( To Tag )
( To Tennyo )
( To Anthony )
( To Xan )
( To Jamie )
((If you weren't included in the letters, keep in mind that Argus hasn't met any of the "new" characters - he hasn't even met Harpy. So it's no personal offense...It's just that he doesn't know you ^_^))
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| IRL rears it's ugly head... |
[28 Jan 2003|06:02pm] |
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Etheriumites -
Guys, I'm sorry for my absence...I think I'm going to have to take Argus out of commission. I don't have enough time to play anymore, and things have been downright awful OOC.
I don't intend fully on taking him out forever, but things are ugly right now, and to keep up with such a fast-paced RPG, no matter how much fun, is a bit stressful to me =/ Thank you all for the wonderful time I have had aboard the Etherium - this won't be goodbye forever.
If you still want to keep up with me, my email addy is ahnassi@hotmail.com, my OOC journal is at http://ahnassi.livejournal.com (it's friends only, but I add anyone who asks), and my AIM name is We Stole Away.
Thank you again, everyone. *HUGS*
-Ahna
(Argus's mun)
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[23 Jan 2003|01:06am] |
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Tom Waits - The Heart of Saturday Night |
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OOC: Hey guys, it's Argie's player ;p Just wanted to let you know that I AM STILL HERE! I haven't been playing recently, because I've been....OK, so I've been lazy =/. I just haven't been able to keep my eyes open too late. But I have been keeping an eye on things, so I don't get too out of the loop (because it bites when that happens.).
Love you all, and hope to get back in soon.
Ahna/Argus
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[17 Jan 2003|07:39pm] |
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recumbent |
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Carmina Sacra - Salve Regina |
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[Paid accounts rock. I totally redid my journal layout here. Kickass. Down to the mood icons. I feel so accomplished.]
I had to save that bloody bird. All of my energy going into hating her, and I had to save her life. I'm a pathetic sod! Why didn't I let her die? She didn't deserve my compassion...I should have let her die. She wanted to die. If someone brought me back, I'd be bloody infuriated. Jadrath guide me, as Miss Anna used to say...
She made me soft, y'know. Exactly what Eustace tried so hard to prevent...She'd feed me so well, an' tell me to treat others "kindly" - that is - love everyone with reckless abandon. Which I have done for years and years of my life. Anna...Yes, that wonderful grandmother of a woman...It was her, a stranger to me in a time of need, that taught me how to love. Not even my own mother could to that. And my father? Well, he had his first-born son. When I left, all it could have meant to him was one less laborer in his blasted factory. One less mouth to feed. One less opposing voice.
The bird will hate me for as long as she's on the ship - not that I blame her. Not that I'd have got on well with her anyway...Bloody stowaway. The funny thing is that when I was much younger, I always romanticized stowaways, and the life of a stowaway. Just like the stories Anna told me of what she called "hobos" (which I always thought to be such a silly word, and I'd say it to myself sometimes just to make myself laugh). Where she was raised, there was a subculture of folks who used to steal rides on trains - hobos. They're just like stowaways...But they seem so less likely to...Well...Kill people. Hobos. Hmph.
She's lost a lot of blood, though...And Jamie gave her a transfusion. For that, he gains an even higher respect. To have his blood running through her system...It's an unspoken contract between two people where I'm from. I've already set too much of a bond with that woman, by saving her. But what else was I to do? Lie, and say I never heard ner saw her like that? Bollocks...
When I'm done with this ship, I'm taking me stash and buying an airship. One of me very own...And if there's any treasure to be had at the end of this trip...It will be a very nice one at that...
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