Miles Farrum et Vapor ((Open, 9/28/12))

[transformersgirl13]

Hans finished tightening a bolt on his Rüstung. "There he ist finally done..." He said, in a light German accent, "Vell? Vat do you zink?" He asked his stsier, thinking it a little for her amusement. She gave him a thumbs up. He gave Ritter a pat. "I zink so too." Hans walked over to Anya and leaned on the table she was sitting on, cleaning off his wrench.

Anya was swinging her legs on the table as her brother worked, and continued to do so as he came over and sat by her. She gave his Rüstung a good look, it was a truly cool looking Mecha. Anya gave Hans a big smile, whom smiled back.  

[Silas Parrish]

After what seemed to be an eternity of trial and error, William finally found the proper and available materials to repair and upgrade his Rustung. Its only weapon thus far was a Nordenfelt gun, used primarily as an anti-personnel measure. William did not yet have the means to fight Walker Machines, but he was honing his piloting skills every minute of every day, during the time he wasn't eating or sleeping. Once he was sure of his ability to operate the machine, he decided to test it. Walker Machines were not common around the place he once called home, so he expected to create quite a stir.

As William wandered into the village, the effect was immediate. Screaming women, cursing men, and howling animals littered the streets as the villagers abandoned their daily places in favor of higher ground--away from the massive walking reactor. William laughed sadistically, just as he did when he murdered his former master, Mr. Harland the watchmaker. Something caught his eye amidst the fervent movement. A lone Gypsy woman stood between him and the next street full of people. He had always heard that Gypsy women were rather ugly creatures...but this one was quite different. Her face was an epitome of fierce youth and untamed beauty. She wore a long, flowing red skirt that trailed father behind her than her own shadow. A white shawl hung loosely about her shoulders, over a very short shirt. Great metal bands rested around her neck, both wrists, and both ankles. A thin golden chain hung from her neck, swinging just below her naval as she walked; Her feet pressed against broken glass and sharp rocks in the street, unhindered. Her skin was an earthy tan, and William found the shine of her moist lips to be quite moving. Her eyes were harsh and calculating, and exhibited two different colors: The left was a very normal-looking olive, and the right was a blue so intense it bordered on bio-luminescence. She raised a delicate, yet strong hand and gestured accusingly at William.  

[Ty Gwynnia]

Raphael stared up at the blue sky, heedless of the continued shouts from below and the chatter of the interested crowd growing a respectful distance away from his Rüstung. Not that there'd be any fight, of course. He hated fighting within close quarters such as a town or city. There could be accidents which led to casualties. And death was the farthest thing from his mind right now.

At the sound of deep thuds, he raised his head up lazily. Approaching him was, presumably, the man who'd originally yelled up at him to move. Apparently, he felt like a show of power was necessary to get the Scot to move. He was persistent, Raphael had to give him that. But with persistence came annoyance. "Aye, now that's what I'd be callin' 'Overkill'..." Raphael called out, waving at the man operating the Rüstung. "Sir, you've been told twice to move this...thi--""Fatum." "--ng, correct?" Raphael gave a smile. "Aye." "And you're the proper owner of it, correct?" "Aye, agin." "And furthermore---Wait...Is that...Is that a church spire?!" Raphael glanced at the weapon the Fatum was holding in its hands, laughing at the blatant disbelief he heard in the man's voice. It was a tall and heavy iron spire, a beautiful Victorian addition to any church top. Then he nodded slowly, acting like the man was a child. "Aye, what else do ya think it is?" "How the hell did you manage to get something like that?!" Raphael let out a loud bark of laughter, fidgeting with his spectacles as he did so. "Well, obviously it fell off. Takin' somethin' like this, in plain sight, would just be idiotic, huh?" "Okay. I don't care. Just...move your machine out of here! It's not supposed to be in the streets in the first place!"  

[Silas Parrish]

The woman spoke to William in English, with a barely detectable Romani accent. He was hypnotized; he could not divert his attention anywhere else. He drank in her beauty, and his heartrate began to increase. I must make her mine! he thought, as a cold sweat broke.

"Listen! Pay attention!" she shouted, when she knew his mind wandered. "Save your filthy thoughts for your own time! As I was saying: I know who you are, William Baxter Cruxely II! Murderer," she whispered, and smiled mischievously. William's heart skipped a beat at the mention of the word. He was certain that no one knew he killed his former master. The woman continued.
"Come down out of that mechanical beast, and face me like the man you claim to be!" William did so, not because he felt obligated, be because he was anxious to prove he had no fear of the mysterious woman. When he was on the ground, he realized she was not great in stature, but was somehow still quite intimidating. "Look into my eyes," she demanded. He peered into the bright blue one involuntarily, and felt a shock penetrate his mind. Suddenly, the village was gone, and he floated in a void, with only the Gypsy's blue eye as light.
"You, like the world we live in, are one of many. Behold!" The void was then filled with images of many strange new things. Firstly, there was an image of a noble-looking man dressed in some foreign military regalia, adorned with the image of clock gears. William saw the man at the helm of a strange flying machine, fighting alone against an army of airborne enemies. Second, he observed another man with who must have been his wife. He wore an off-looking diving suit, and seemed to control a huge white walker machine, fighting in between the stars themselves with several more machines like his, against battalions of sinister-looking black machines. Thirdly, William was shown one more man, holding a mob of monstrous creatures at bay, while standing atop a locomotive. He heard the Gypsy woman's voice again.
"In others worlds, you exist in other forms. These men are you, William. They are you, as you might have been. But these men did their part to save the world!"

"That's what I'm trying to do!" William protested.

"No, your motives are entirely selfish, and you will fail because of it! I warn you, William Cruxely. If you wish to play hero, then do not seek out Raphael Xander." She waved her hand, and William could see the village again, now totally deserted. The Gypsy woman turned gracefully, and walked away, her wavy black hair flowing behind her. William was glad for the emptiness of the village, because there was no one around to see him fall to his knees.
"Silas Parrish...John Silenus...Wally Allen...." he said aloud.  

[transformersgirl13]

Hans smiled as his father walked in the 'shed' he kept his Rüstung in, his father was built strong like he was and shared the same hair and eyes. "Hello father." Hans said in German, his father greeted both of his children with warm hugs. Hans got an extra hair ruffle as part of his greeting. He smile as Anya giggled. They watched their father as he looked at Hans' Mecha. "You did good on him." their father said, voice thick with pride in his son, it made a knot of happiness grown in Hans' chest. "Thank you, father." Hans said, a small smile on his face.

Anya watched their father, she know why he was here, and she knew Hans did too. She watched as their father as he walked back over to them and sat next to Anya, whom leaned into him. She felt on of his powerful arms rap around her for comfort. "You know why i'm here..?" He asked, she nodded. She heard him sigh. "Then i'll cut to the chase, I'm sending you two to the Americas to live with your Uncle Borislav.." Anya shot up. Uncle Boris was in America? ".. Until I can come over, I'm sending you there for a better life..." Their father held up his hands to stop Hans' protests. "Peace, son, let me finish." Hans grew quiet. "I'm sending you there for a reason--and i know you know what it is-- So relax, and i'll join you in the Americas soon..." Both of the children looked down and everyone was silent. Anya suddenly threw her arms around her father and cried in his chest, he held her tight and Hans came over to hug her too. They stayed like that until Anya stopped and she pushed them away, afterwards they went back to the house for dinner.  

[Orcus Fieres]

Littner was laying back comfortably when he heard heavy thuds other than his own. He picked his head up from his seat only to face a heavy metal cockpit shield with this openings for air and viewing. He gauged the situation through these openings and decided to introduce himself to the guard and the man blocking the guard's path, each with their own Rustung.

As he approached he opened the heavy cockpit shields of his Crock-Shot and allowed himself to breath the fresh air. It was in stark contrast the the heavy blast of steam at his back, caused by the movement of the plates. "Hello!" He yelled out as he stood on the flat bottom of his Rustung's cockpit. "What, might I ask is going on here?" His Rustung carried his family sigils, emblems, and crests on every piece. As such, he believed no more introduction was necessary.

"And how might I help this transaction along so that the road might be cleared?" Littner thought himself a relatively gifted wordsmith. He imagine that, if any, he would be the one to fix this problem.

((It's directed toward Raphael, by the by. That is, of course, if he doesn't mind being faced with two Britons. I'm not planning on a fight at all, just an encounter with an Usurper for the first time.))  

[Mr_BlueCamo]

A tap on the shoulder made Leon jump a little, he turned around to see that it was one of the captains. "How about we test each others skills? Cause I make it a goal to face each Rüstung pilot at least once. So how about it soldier?" Leon looked straight at the captain and said. "Sure Captain, I will be honored to fight with you." After they shook hands they went to their Rüstungs and replaced their regular rounds with plastic rounds.  

[Ty Gwynnia]

((Okie-dokie.)

Raphael glanced away from the guard's face at the sound of a new voice, stopping on the newcomer. This one was obviously full of himself, if the symbols and decorations on the Rüstung were associated with him on a personal basis. If not, then they were for purely decorative purposes.

"Ah, nothin' ye need tae worry aboot," He called out with a friendly wave, earning a glower from the guard in his Rüstung. "Ah've got this under control." "Sir, this issue has not been resolved. You must move immediately!" He rubbed at his temple in thought, wondering what to do with the persistent man. He was obviously not going to budge on this matter. Then he gave a sigh. "Ah was hopin' I wouldnae have to do this..." "Do what?" The man called back, overhearing.

Raphael stooped down a bit, messing with the Fatum's controls before hearing the groan of the shoulder joints. The machine slowly brought the spire it held level to the Royal Guard's own Rüstung, holding it straight rather than at an angle. He stopped the motion before it lowered anymore and then climbed up onto the Fatum's shoulder, balancing across the arm and then walked across the spire to be in front of the other man. He could see that he was uncertain, gripping his controls as if he'd be able to move them fast enough to knock the Fatum's arm away. He wouldn't have been able to anyway. Digging into a pocket, Raphael pulled something out and held it in front on him, perched on the end of the spire as he was, so the man saw it clearly. The Royal Guard gulped and his eyes widened in fear. "V--" "Now, I told you to leave me be, right?" Raphael said with a careless smile, speaking softly enough so that nobody below could hear but the guard could. He'd lost his Scottish accent. The Royal Guard nodded quickly, still holding onto the controls. "But, I don't understand." "'O course ya don't, these are dark times, more'n than not." Raphael replied, speaking louder now, the accent back. "Darker than any of yoo even realize. In more places than one, though if Ah told ya, you'd think Ah was crazy! Get yourselfs goin' now, enjoy the day!" He tucked what he had out back into his pocket, spinning around to walk back to the Fatum, perfectly fine with walking about 17 feet in the air on only a piece of metal. The Royal Guard behind him moved away, barking orders for everyone to resume their business, and not even bothering to get onto the new man's case. He sat back down in the comfortable seat, propping his legs up again on the side of the controls. "See?" He called back over to the reddish haired man with a second wave. "All under control now. Thanks for yer concern, though, laddie. 'Preciated. "  

[Silas Parrish]

The Gypsy gave William a final piece of advice before disappearing entirely from view. He heard her as clearly as if she were standing before his face, though she was actually quite far away. Her figure was barely distinguishable from the settling mists.
"I warn you, William...keep well away from Raphael Xander." She was gone, before he could answer.
William collected himself, and set about on the tiresome task of preparing his hastily-repaired machine for travel. He was confident in his designs, to be sure, but not so much in the quality of the materials he was forced to use. The shite-stain of a village had very little worth stealing...so William was forced to travel to the next town, in hopes of readily-available raw materials to steal, or valuables to swipe. Whichever came first.
The next few miles crawled by slowly. He feared to ask too much of his thus-far faithful Rüstung, and resigned himself to a less-than-grueling pace. His spirits lifted when he realized the next town was on the horizon. He passed under the gate with little difficulty; there were Rüstungs aplenty already inside the town, so he would not stand out.  

[Silas Parrish]

((Gaiz! Y U NO POST?))
 

[Mr_BlueCamo]

((sry man was feeling tired and i have my youncle over))
The captain made his first move as he lunged forward to punch, but Leon dodged then using the captain's own momentum he gave him a extra push that sent him to the ground. Then he shot twice at the downed Rüstung, but the captain managed to avoid them then pulled out his sword and made a downward swipe.  

[Ty Gwynnia]

((I'm sort of waiting for Orcus to post, and Olfway whenever he gets his butt to posting. He should be free to soon.))  

[Silas Parrish]

((Yeah, I was hoping to hear from Orcus, too. XP))  

[Olfway]

Alastair torqued down the last bolt on the freshly installed armor plating. He jumped down from the tank-like main section of Finlay and landed on the hard-packed, straw covered floor of his workshop. He stood, admiring his handiwork as well as the new, thicker armor plating he had purchased using a good chunk of the payment he received from two jobs ago. He sighed audibly, then moved over to a crate that he had received in the mail recently. He retrieved a pry-bar from a nearby table and wedged it under the wooden container's lid and added weight, rewarded by the loud squeak of the nails being forced from their resting place. He repeated the process with the three remaining sides and discarded the top, then dusted the top layer of packing straw away to reveal the top of a large, squashed metal cylinder. His reward for his last job; escort an odd Serbian man who sought asylum in America through dangerous territory. He picked up the note that was packaged inside if the crate with the odd device.

Alastair,
I appreciate your willingness to escort a poor young man through the dangers and perils of your country. Although I am unable to provide typical compensation, I'm sure you shall find this device more than handy in the future. Please, do not hesitate to ask for anything else if I may be of assistance to you in the days to come.
Respectfully yours,
Nikola Tesla  

[Orcus Fieres]

((I'm sorry. I've been unreasonably busy.))

Littner marveled at the man's ability to get the guard moving along so quickly. "Obviously you must be of blue blood, good sir." He sat back for a second to direct his Crock-Shot forward a ways and then stood on the wide base of the cockpit again. "My name is Ædon Littner. I am of the Iberian Peninsula's noble family. Pleased to make your acquaintance..." Littner leaned forward with an outstretched hand toward the man and a lean forward so as the hear his name. Just a split second after getting into that position Littner rethought the hand shake and sat back down, giving the man a sign to wait. He pulled a lever forward slightly, bringing his Crock-Shot's right arm around for the shake instead. "You may call me Littner." He gave a slight yell over the now longer distance between them.