Wixed
Batteries not included.
For those stopping in to take a peek, feel free to join. PM me for questions about lore and the like.
All plot info is located in the Overview section.
DROPPED
Location: The Sea | Human | Will Solari
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IC rp will begin here once your application is accepted.
All information regarding lore and the like can be found in the Overview tab.
The intro posted here is familiar to those I've rp-ed this with prior. Characters do not have to start out in the same area. Just keep tabs on those you wish to interact with.
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The sky rippled like a velvet sheet. Seven streaks glittered down from the heavens and seven flickering tails of light swam down toward the Earth, doming like the bars of an illuminated birdcage--a whistling hum in the skies as they descended rapidly. The trees below shifted, restless. The evening was a cloudy one and a thin fog was slowly rolling in over the valley that split the towering forest in two, cut deep by a river which forked the valley into thirds.
The lights flitted out of view. One bright tear dropping into the darkness of the trees who consumed the object, just as the sky expelled a misty drizzle over the land. Within the canopy, the pod bounced against branches which snapped and crackled in the wake of its' momentum. It looked like an egg plummeting to the damp forest floor where it smacked the soil, a dull, crunching, thud--sending a wave of debris about it.
The pod rested in the uprooted thicket. All silent, save for the quiet hiss of smoke fuming from what might be the object's underside. A creature darted past the crash site, giving the air a quick sniff as it hurried by and away into the darkness.
Dawn broke. The machine thrummed in its dirt nest, the ground around it vibrating wildlife into motion. The smoke was settled and though its outer shell appeared unscathed, surely its interior was no more. The fall was too great. Too unthinkably treacherous for anything to survive.
The sun could not penetrate the foliage. Decades of growth, and the early morning light became that of an early evening twilight. The air was damp from the evening's rain, thick and muggy. Heavy on the lungs.
The pod rattled. A hatch burst open from its' side, icy breath spilling against the warmth awaiting and meeting with temporary fog. The sound of metal and beeping technology erupted with the expel.
The pod vomited. A boy, naked and plugged into its' innards, dripping with clear mucus.
If nothing else, the boy appeared dead. Limply hanging from the plugs and wires as marionette from her strings.
All at once his chest gave a great rise and fall, then another. The damp air set him gasping. New lungs unaccustomed to unfiltered oxygen. The boy's muscles spasmed as he choked and coughed out the musk he'd inhaled. The frailty of his form rattling thin, malnourished even.
A short eternity passed him by, hanging there. His breaths mere wheezes crackling up his throat. He quieted himself after a time, weakly tipping his head up toward the sky of whispering leaves. His eyes sat wide at the flora, red and bright. Burning and tearing, he closed them tight-- pulling free sticky, wired patches from slick skin. He rid his arms and chest of the patches and forced his eyes back open. Though they stung, he needed his sight to remove the needles and connectors.
Fear of infection set him to work gently, unplugging and disconnecting. A strap across his abdomen held him firm to his full-body seat. An indent remained in the soft material as he unbuckled, dropping about a foot to the forest floor, cold and naked. The soil was black tar against his milk skin, and he pressed his fingers into the supple earth, rubbing the rich grains between them.
He'd never seen such greenery and life. No one in his lifetime or many previous to his, could even imagine such an existence. That vegetation could be so abundant, so breathtaking.
He sat, knees in the dirt, gathering his senses which were more stimulated than they'd ever been save for his birth. Forgetting the many years of preparation, of training and planning that'd gone into his descent--he felt he could cry. No amount of training would do when faced with the real and true experience. He'd never known real gravity, his entire experience, life, up until this very moment was artificially provided. Artificial light, and food.
Abundance surrounded him. Everything alive and in motion. A beetle scurried across his hand and up his forearm and his eyes followed it eagerly. Amazed he was, standing himself upright and brushing moist soil from his thighs and knees, skin stained coal. He looked to his landing pod, how unbelonging it appeared to him surrounded by the dense nature. The vehicle door was face-planted in the dirt and he gave the interior a once over. It consisted of his bed-seat, which he'd been strapped to, many wires and curious lights, and one small compartment.
The boy reached for the storage hatch and tugged the handle. It popped open smoothly on metal rods, revealing a meager stash of supplies. Especially meager compared to the grandeur of his situation.
Truly, the forest stretched for miles upon miles. Vast and towering so high and lush, that he could not see the sky even if he were to climb 20 or even 50 feet up. He'd read many books, studied countless hours, yet nothing was familiar to him. Nothing of the old world existed here. The environment was alien.
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