YoungDreamer
Headmaster
Thousands of years ago the planet called earth was a utopia of technology and advancement. Today however?
Let's just say that's not the case.
No. Earth has turned into a land of repression and waste. What used to be Europe has morphed into the Holy Leadership, a governmental body more corrupt and greedy then anything this world has ever since. Heading this mass of deceptive leaders is a man by the name of Jonathon Kemp, known leader and Monarch of thee Holy Leadership. New things were invented as he watched from his Holy City and the world began to advance in a fast pace. However, under his rule the world was being destroyed and the air almost unlivable. Along with this spiraling planet was the social gap. As the wealth of the rich grew the penniless suffered.
Struggling in the slums, the dirty areas around the Inner Cities, the poor became spiteful and unhappy. Talk of revolution spread like wildfire throughout the filthy slums but nothing was done. Still, tension was building as the wealthy wait in fear as the poor gather.
Then... on one cold night a single shot rang out.
And...
The Revolution began.
Sign up sheet:
http://www.rpnation.com/index.php?threads/steampunk-revolution.14242/
The Scholar Wrath-
The air was thick with smog as Wrath stepped from his home on the Upper Side of Portsmouth, his nose wrinkling slightly in the process. Today was of no special important to him but still he was dressed in the plain, neat clothing that he wore on very important days. Well, in truth it actually was a day a bit different from his normal routine. Why? Well it was quite simple. The Scholar by the name K. J. Wrath was on his way to the funeral home. Shifting his jacket around so that he could put it on he started off down the street, strolling at a lazy pace as he headed for his destination.
"Mr. Wrath," The voice that spoke to him wasn't one he knew but he turned to it anyway with a kind smile, "I am sorry about your father. Official Blake was a very good man. Very brave to have faced a terrorist." Wrath lifted an eyebrow in an amused manner. Many could describe the young Mr. Wrath as a handsome fellow with tuffs of brown hair hanging around his strong face. Many would also describe him as a nice gentleman of good birth, something thought of very highly around the Upper Side of Portsmouth.
"It was that terrorist that shot him," Scholar Wrath said gentle, "I don't think his bravery was worth it. Do you?" The person paused, fidgeting under the heavy gaze that this young Scholar emanated. That was another thing that most said when the topic of Scholar K. J. Wrath was brought up. That though the man was both handsome and gentlemanly the issue of his smarts was a downfall of his. He was a nice gentleman, but his comments often made the other parties very uncomfortable even if they were true on every account. Seeing that he would get no answer, Warth nodded slightly and turned away. He had a funeral to attend to after all.
Harper Jones-
Steam: The vapor into which water is converted when heated, forming a white mist of minute water droplets in the air. How very simple it seemed; to get it you simply converted water into air. However, the endless possibilities of what it could be used for were numerous. In the day and age that Harper found herself it seemed that Steam controlled everything, it was the foundation and very core of the way the Holy City, Portsmouth, and the rest of the area under the Holy Leadership was run.
"And I am in charge of making sure that water is turned into air," She mumbled as she tugged at the leaking pipe in front of her, "Joyful." When it was tight she stood, her muscle aching from being in an awkward position for so long. Still, it would be worth it if she was able to fix this thing before the day was out. Flipping a few switches that machines around her began to groan and click before coming to life with a shuttering noise. Going back over to where she had first been she examined the pipe before straightening with a happy grin. It was fixed, finally. Which meant she was done for the day and could finally get some sleep. Picking up her bag as she left the little sub-boiler-room Harper started toward the living compartments.
"Harper, did you hear about the Official being shot?" It was Johnny, his face peaking out from behind to waterlines, "They say the revolution is starting all because of a single shot." Harper waved him away. Of course she knew about the official being killed, she couldn't call herself a revolutionary if she didn't. The person killed was a Government Official by the name of Kenneth Blake. No one knew who shot him but for some reason the people were now calling him the Leader of the Revolution. Even if they had no clue who the person is and for what reason he shot the Official. It didn't matter though because it was finally starting. The Revolution was finally here!
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