Post by Wepon on Nov 8, 2012 21:55:09 GMT -5
Tower Wheelem. What just happened. That is the question that was stuck in the head of the wood and iron built machine, what kind of place was that? The poor Wheelem had no idea what happened, the only thing that he could remember about is that he was tired of staying stuck in the Garden of Rhisis with the other Wheelems, especially because he was different, he did not look exactly like the others, and possibly smarter than them. The mech used the time that he could use to find out a way to escape from that hated island and find more about the world that he lived on. It was a difficult task though, with so many humans around, fighting every single day of the week against the monsters of that place it would just take seconds to both of the sides find him escaping. But even so he managed to find a way to leave... using the fog as his method of sheath. But before the tall wood machine could land his wheel on a new land, something pulled him, he had no idea what was it, he got blinded and well.. there he is, on his own at some weird town... without mages, swordsmen,..monsters.. what kind of place was that after all? Was that the so called "new world" that he heard about? Even if it was, he would find humans there, as those creatures were able to fly using their magical vehicles, or whatever how they called them like. With no options left, he just kept wandering on the road, making a loud and metallic noise while he moved, consequence of the really obsolete mechanism used on his wheel, actually it was not even supposed to wonder, or at least a mechanic would find impossible to see that moving or working. Once again, the machine took some time to look around before staring at the building infront of him, what was that? A armory, a place where you could buy potions and food? One side of him wanted to find out, but the other was too afraid, what if it was really a armory? He would face many humans at the same time, he would turn into a bunch of matchsticks in seconds.. it was not worth the try.
Scowt. Austin had, suffice to say, cleaned up pretty good in the past few months. Moving out of that dumpy hotel, managing to splurge a little in joint effort with his mother for a new, modest house, and catching up with everyone who, pfft, well, hadn't died. Life was good for once, and he was taking full advantage of it. Standing tall at twenty-one years, he strode confidently out of the bar with his nose in the air and a smile on his face. Stukabat and his band (What'd they call themselves? The Shark Fighters?) had found a job at the bar, finally old enough to be admitted in as players in the face of alcohol, all with no legal issues. After a hearty performance and sharing candy they'd... ahem, borrowed from some children attending Halloween night's festivities, Austin had been shooed off by Boone, a big, burly brute of a Scottish Highlander anthro, insisting they had practice and that 'weenies' weren't allowed to attend. So, escorting himself out of the door, he walked high and walked without fault, head high as his steps held that same, unconfined sense of a boy who needed to be knocked down a few pegs. And perhaps the slight tremble of a featherweight who'd drunk too much. So it came as no surprise when he smacked into something. Something thick and wooden, well grounded and sturdy, so that he might've thought it was a building before he cleared his blurry eyes, making out the rough form of something... humanoid? No! Robotic? Robot. Robootiiiic.... Silver eyes narrowed, brain working too slow (You could practically hear the gears in his head turning, shaking off cobwebs with them.) before piecing everything together. Robot! He only knew one robot! "Wheatley?"
Tower Wheelem was already stuck in a deep thought about the building, if he was supposed to get inside or not, what was inside, and what kind of ground was he on after all? It was rough like rough, but he never saw rocks like those, they seemed so small and what happened to the old buildings? Everything seemed so... new. But he was not really in position to say that as he passed his whole life stuck in a small island, maybe this was supposed to look like this outside, after all, that place was abandonned after being taken over by the monsters. The machine moved back a while when he heard some noises coming out of the building.. so there were indeed humans inside of that place...but what was that thing taking him out of the place? It seemed like a..bipedal animal? Ok, something was really wrong on this, first of all, the humans that he used to see were not so tall, nor had contact to THAT kind of animals, what were them after all? Monsters that turned into neutrals during the war? This was getting too confusing to the wheelem. The wood machine just took one of his claws to his head, in a gesture of deep confusion, if he happened to be a human, he probably would be having one of those terrible and strong headaches. His problems were just about to begin, or at least looked like it, when he felt something bumping against his frontplate, the mech looked down slowly, like if he was worried to see what bumped against him. It was that same human that left that building! Was he trying to take him down or what? And what was he after all? A swordsman? When he said "Wheatley" he just could think that he was trying to cast a magic on him and quickly moved back, giving a loud noise after spinning his wood wheel on the ground so hard and got into a defensive position, spinning his heavy iron claws, ready to fight or at least try. It seemed that the boy was a bit confused, so maybe he was not going to be a challenge at all. "Stay back, Magician! You will not stop me, I just got here, and I do not intend to perish without learning about this new world!" The machine exclaimed, but yet, worried about that, magicians and wheeelems had their own problems, magic obviously was something bad for machines, but wheelems are knew by their quick and double attack strategy with their claws, if they had time to reach close enough.. well.. the results could be really bad. But even so he just stood his ground, that human was too different, and barely sounded like a mage, his attire... it was not even a robe, and where was his staff? And was he drunk? Too many questions at the same time... the mech began to give a loud hiss from the exhaust pipe of his shoulder, that was too much for him, on may ways. He placed both of his claws against his head for a moment, in a attempt of focusing his mind again, sounding more like some crazy dude in a armor flipping out in the middle of the road. Ugh...what place is this...is this the real world? It sounds confusing." Steam could be seemed going out of his pipe and after some seconds it stopped, the loud noise was also gone, the wheelem managed to get stable again, and his mechanics were working just like they were supposed to once more, but his memory..well, obsolete never is never perfect, right? He just looked around like if never happened there before staring at Austin, tilting his head some but keeping in silence, like if he was checking the human again, even if he had already did it before the overheat.
:did not look phased, head tilting to the side overdramatically as a bubbling giggle managed to trickle past his lips. "Magician?" Laugh tittered over, a bandaged hand reaching to clutch his chest in order to keep himself from giggling too hard.
Scowt. Austin had, suffice to say, cleaned up pretty good in the past few months. Moving out of that dumpy hotel, managing to splurge a little in joint effort with his mother for a new, modest house, and catching up with everyone who, pfft, well, hadn't died. Life was good for once, and he was taking full advantage of it. Standing tall at twenty-one years, he strode confidently out of the bar with his nose in the air and a smile on his face. Stukabat and his band (What'd they call themselves? The Shark Fighters?) had found a job at the bar, finally old enough to be admitted in as players in the face of alcohol, all with no legal issues. After a hearty performance and sharing candy they'd... ahem, borrowed from some children attending Halloween night's festivities, Austin had been shooed off by Boone, a big, burly brute of a Scottish Highlander anthro, insisting they had practice and that 'weenies' weren't allowed to attend. So, escorting himself out of the door, he walked high and walked without fault, head high as his steps held that same, unconfined sense of a boy who needed to be knocked down a few pegs. And perhaps the slight tremble of a featherweight who'd drunk too much. So it came as no surprise when he smacked into something. Something thick and wooden, well grounded and sturdy, so that he might've thought it was a building before he cleared his blurry eyes, making out the rough form of something... humanoid? No! Robotic? Robot. Robootiiiic.... Silver eyes narrowed, brain working too slow (You could practically hear the gears in his head turning, shaking off cobwebs with them.) before piecing everything together. Robot! He only knew one robot! "Wheatley?"
Tower Wheelem was already stuck in a deep thought about the building, if he was supposed to get inside or not, what was inside, and what kind of ground was he on after all? It was rough like rough, but he never saw rocks like those, they seemed so small and what happened to the old buildings? Everything seemed so... new. But he was not really in position to say that as he passed his whole life stuck in a small island, maybe this was supposed to look like this outside, after all, that place was abandonned after being taken over by the monsters. The machine moved back a while when he heard some noises coming out of the building.. so there were indeed humans inside of that place...but what was that thing taking him out of the place? It seemed like a..bipedal animal? Ok, something was really wrong on this, first of all, the humans that he used to see were not so tall, nor had contact to THAT kind of animals, what were them after all? Monsters that turned into neutrals during the war? This was getting too confusing to the wheelem. The wood machine just took one of his claws to his head, in a gesture of deep confusion, if he happened to be a human, he probably would be having one of those terrible and strong headaches. His problems were just about to begin, or at least looked like it, when he felt something bumping against his frontplate, the mech looked down slowly, like if he was worried to see what bumped against him. It was that same human that left that building! Was he trying to take him down or what? And what was he after all? A swordsman? When he said "Wheatley" he just could think that he was trying to cast a magic on him and quickly moved back, giving a loud noise after spinning his wood wheel on the ground so hard and got into a defensive position, spinning his heavy iron claws, ready to fight or at least try. It seemed that the boy was a bit confused, so maybe he was not going to be a challenge at all. "Stay back, Magician! You will not stop me, I just got here, and I do not intend to perish without learning about this new world!" The machine exclaimed, but yet, worried about that, magicians and wheeelems had their own problems, magic obviously was something bad for machines, but wheelems are knew by their quick and double attack strategy with their claws, if they had time to reach close enough.. well.. the results could be really bad. But even so he just stood his ground, that human was too different, and barely sounded like a mage, his attire... it was not even a robe, and where was his staff? And was he drunk? Too many questions at the same time... the mech began to give a loud hiss from the exhaust pipe of his shoulder, that was too much for him, on may ways. He placed both of his claws against his head for a moment, in a attempt of focusing his mind again, sounding more like some crazy dude in a armor flipping out in the middle of the road. Ugh...what place is this...is this the real world? It sounds confusing." Steam could be seemed going out of his pipe and after some seconds it stopped, the loud noise was also gone, the wheelem managed to get stable again, and his mechanics were working just like they were supposed to once more, but his memory..well, obsolete never is never perfect, right? He just looked around like if never happened there before staring at Austin, tilting his head some but keeping in silence, like if he was checking the human again, even if he had already did it before the overheat.
:did not look phased, head tilting to the side overdramatically as a bubbling giggle managed to trickle past his lips. "Magician?" Laugh tittered over, a bandaged hand reaching to clutch his chest in order to keep himself from giggling too hard.