Birth of the Iron Dragon Revolutionaries

[Deleted]

The peaceful island of Toroa, an island in which the World Government has not sunk it's claws into. The island was famous for it's exquisite culture, but an unfavourable undercurrent of corruption had managed to slink it's way in to this beautiful place. One of the nobles taking residence in the major city of Toroa sits back in a luxurious chair, watching the outcome of his work. The citizens of the capitol go about their normal lives but under their façade, they all quake with fear knowing what they have done. Finally, a courier runs through the streets, carrying an envelope that holds the fate of the island.

---

A slender man leans over a lavish desk. His elbows propped on top of it, he clasps his hands together and leans his head on the hands, his nose and upper lip pressing into his index finger. The man sighs heavily and straightens himself up, his spine becoming parallel to the back of the chair. The man opens his mouth to speak. The voice that escapes is smooth and delicate. The type of voice that could make a women's knees weak;
"Kilburn, what's the update on the plan?

A large man, sitting on a luxurious red couch several feet from the desk, takes out the cigar from his mouth. A large double-headed axe leans on the couch next to him. He taps the end of his cigar twice, getting rid of any excess residue. His arms seem to be uncovered and muscles ripple across them. The man known as Kilburn opens his mouth to reply. His voice seems to be a complete contrast to the other man's, being gruff and likely to turn women away rather than get them closer;
"The courier is on his way now. He should be there within the hour at least."
Kilburn places the cigar back into his mouth, continuing his pleasure.

The man at the desk leans on his left hand. His right hand moves into a more relaxed position on top of the desk. The man's lip curls up ever so slightly before the man utters a single word;
"Excellent."

---

Thump!

Ikari cringed slightly as she hit the ground, the shock from landing running through her body. A crack is left on the ground where she lands. Jumping from a boat with the added weight of metal is likely to cause some form of damage. As the cyborg limps away, she waves back to the men on the ship. Average merchants, but nice enough to allow her passage to the island. It was annoying that an accomplished shipwright didn't have her own ship, but that couldn't be helped, after all, Ikari was here for a purpose.

Ikari began to walk through the streets of the city normally, her eyes darting around in search of someone or something. A few weeks earlier, the cyborg shipwright had heard about the dark undercurrent passing through the city. She intended to comb this city through, searching for whoever started the silent uproar. If there was one thing that Ikari couldn't withstand, it was people crushing others to fulfil their own greed and lust for power. The cyborg continued to walk through the streets. She heavily sighed for a small moment. Ikari opened her mouth slightly, speaking quietly to herself. Her voice was rough but had echoes of a honey-like voice behind it;
"This could be much easier if I knew what I was actually looking for."

[donnervark]

The manor of Lord Dallon Locreed was strangely dim for the hour. Where normally the lavish and grand establishment lit up the city with its nightly parties. Tonight it was dark, all but a few rooms, one of which being the private study of Lord Dallon himself. He sat at his desk, reclined in his seat with a furrowed brow. He was not a spectacular man, not in appearance anyways. His specialty was math and a keen eye for business. To look upon him the viewer would find a man of average height some forty years of age. His skin was lightly tanned and smooth save for the well-trimmed beard adorning his face. His figure was also rather average, having somewhat broad shoulders, but a slightly protruding gut. His attire was still that of the days business, a fine blue tunic over a sea-green silk undershirt with matching pants.

The lords and ladies of Toroa were a mixed bunch, some having worked for their riches, others having been born into it. Dallon was a bit of both. Though it wasn't until certain, recent events that he'd realized how much of his roots he'd forgotten. He swirled his wineglass around and around, contemplating the level of treason he was about to commit, and the necessity of the action. With a sigh he downed the glasses berry red contents and set it aside. He'd just closed his eyes when a soft knock came at the door.

"Enter." He stated and sat up, putting on a businesslike air for the chief of his guard. The man stepped in and made a polite bow before continuing. He was twice the man as Dallon in appearance, having the hardened face and figure of a solider whom had seen his share of war. Though he was beginning to show signs of softening after all these years of cushy guard duty.

"My lord. The prisoner you requested is downstairs....locked up in your cellar." Dallon rapped his knuckles on his desk in response to this statement and frowned.

"This was not my order Chief Roman. Care to explain?"

"Yes sir. The prisoner was rather....uncooperative. She was already quite violent over being restrained, almost unnaturally so. It would not have been safe to bring her to your study. She required additional bindings as one of my men now has a brokan collarbone." Roman was clear and concise, a trait Dallon respected. Unfortunately, this made things harder. He would have to work around it.

"Very well. I understand. Have my groundskeeper unlock the vault and compensate the guard for his injury, make sure to put enough to cover his medical bills as well as the time he will need off duty. Now take me to the prisoner. She may have information I need." Dallon rose from his desk and followed Roman down through his mansion, all the while considering his options. The trip took little time, but his Chief stopped him just outside the cellar door.

"Sir...I do not wish to overstep my bounds. But I must insist you reconsider this. I find this woman to be a truly dangerous kind of criminal. I cannot imagine what injury she would inflict on you if she were to escape." Dallon rose an eyebrow. It was not often her heard such wariness from his chief. This woman must be something special to warrant such caution. However the Lord was set in his decision. The only way to save Toroa, was to set this beast back loose upon its people.

"Your warning is warranted. Open the door." Roman bowed his head reluctantly and unlocked the entry, but before he could enter, Dallon stopped him. "I must apologize my friend. But the information she possesses is highly sensitive. You cannot be inside as I interrogate her."

"My liege! I cannot allow..." Dallon threw the man a hard look, one that carried the weight of his position and privilege. The look stopped him in his tracks and he merely held open the door, before closing it behind him. Among the many bags of flour, canned goods, and barrels of wine sat his savior. Her hands and feet were bound, a blindfold covered her eyes, and a gag was firmly set between her teeth. To warrant such precautions....Dallon would be lying if he was not afraid. He took a step closer to her so to see her better in the dim light, and was immediately stopped by a low and feral growl. She was backed up against some barrels, her legs drawn in. She looked like a animal backed into a corner, half afraid, half murderous intent. Petty fear would not stop him though, and he took a quick step forward and swiped away the blindfold. This pink haired woman thrashed at his touch, releasing a much more aggressive sound than before, almost a snarl.

"BE QUIET!" He stated powerfully, having no time for her games. She stopped and glared at him with strikingly beautiful eyes, one white, one pink. Even in his age he could appreciate her exotic appeal, though it was clear her mind was as damaged as her body. He'd only seen World Governent agents with such advanced cybernetics. Regardless he sat down on the ground in front of her, unbuttoning his tunic and releasing a heavy groan. "I am sorry for that outburst. But time is of the essence. I would like, if you are willing, to have a civil conversation with you about the fate of this Kingdom. Of course, I cannot do that with a gag in your mouth. If I remove it, can you be civil?" He held her gaze unflinchingly, and was surprised to see her expression change so quickly from anger to relief. For a moment he suspected tears, but she nodded. "Good. Then lets talk business. What shall I call you?"

[church]

The heartbeat of Toroa Island had been subdued of late. The lifeblood, the people, were being repressed and manipulated by the powers that be and news of the injustice spread like magefire across the Blues - if you knew where to find it. One part hysteria and the other a morbid sense of curiosity drawing us closer to the things that we know could hurt us. For most knew the World Government was impossible to oppose, or even deny. But given the chance, free peoples would rise up and take the mantle of government from those that govern only for their own needs. Community would be built on the foundations of honest relationships, and justice would blossom naturally when all are truly equal. Such thoughts were fledglings however, and Elias would need more than simple dreams to change the world he lived in. He needed to take action.

Nightfall was surprisingly undisturbed, save for the odd bump now and again. Though years had passed since his last visit Elias remembered Toroa as a lively and amicable place to make landfall - the people were friendly enough and morning always seemed quick to rise at the tavern. The stars, though like diamond dust, seemed far and cold - much like the Capital. Elias Church sat perched atop the roofing of a small protruding attic window with his emerald green eyes set to the distance. The chill on the wind meant little to his feathered form but he was content to know he could rise in flight quickly if he needed to. If he was honest he wanted something to break the spell on the evening. Barely a murmur escaped the haggard lips of the Azure Dreams' patrons and despite the flow of amber and red, over the last four days Elias learned little of the current situation he didn't already know. The World Government's eyes were fixed on the Island and something was going to happen soon.

Twisting his head to an impossible angle Elias let his gaze fall over the estate of Dallon Locreed, Lord of Toroa. Church knew nothing of the man beyond his station and prejudice allowed his judgement to wallow there. Locreed was a man of privilege and therefore more than capable of being culpable Elias surmised. Temporarily stupefied by the thought of intrigue Elias nearly fell to the ground dead when he heard a sudden loud crack - like a gunshot. Recovering from the near-heart attack Elias scolded the sound in Owl-tongue before straightening himself and taking to the sky to find out what had happened. For all he knew the event, whatever it may have been, was now underway.

Pitch black against the night sky that Elias blended well with, only his bright green eyes and the light his body might block would reveal him to the average eye. Nearing a young girl who was moving through the street Church descended onto a lamp post several meters ahead of her. He could pick out the fissures in the ground behind the woman clearly and assumed she must have been the cause. But how? An accident, or a calamity? Nevertheless Elias was content to watch. In appearance the Owl was simply an Owl and the Owlman had used the cover innumerable times to remain inconspicuous. He could hear faint stirrings in the distance and turned in their direction - probably nothing.

[Deleted]

At an earlier destination

The slender man sits at his desk, his chin resting on his left palm. The man's right hand combs through his thick, curly, blonde hair. He smirks to himself for a moment, hearing a large ruckus outside of his window. Picking himself up, the man heads to the window and looks out. It would seem that a large crowd has gathered, wielding sharp words. The man smirked once again, opening his mouth to speak;
"Kilburn."

The large man sitting on the couch, known as Kilburn, turns his head towards the man at the window. He opens his mouth, his gruff voice moving through the air;
"Silence them?
The man at the window nods abruptly. Kilburn takes his cigar out of his mouth, taps it once and places it back in between his lips. Picking up his double-headed axe, Kilburn places it onto his back and exits through the door to silence whatever noise is being made outside.

***

Outside of the mansion, a fence several meters away holds off intruders. A man grabs onto the gate of this fence, everyone behind him shouting. The man takes in a large breath, yelling at the top of his voice, hoping to get the attention of the man in the house;
"Lephar! Get your slimy ass out here now!"

Just then, the door to the mansion opened. A figure standing over six foot walked out. The apparent leader of the group looks towards the rest of his group. People seemed to be stunned, confusing the apparent leader. The man shouts once more;
"Oi! You're not Lephar! We want-"
The man is interrupted by a hand being placed on his shoulder. He stops shouting at turns his head around to look at the person who placed their hand. It was a woman, seemingly one of the older people of the group. She seemed to be deathly pale. Obviously not her natural skin tone. The woman began to speak to the man;
"You're right, that's not Lephar. That's Kilburn Axesaxe. A pirate captain with a 15 million bounty."

---

Ikari Rabu

The cyborg seemed to have moved to a secluded location. Sitting on a stone wall, Ikari seems to fixing the rocket pad on her right arm. Using the blowtorch in her index finger, Ikari welds the propulsion system back into her elbow, making sure it doesn't move at all. As she finishes, the cyborg smiles, unrolling her jacket to it's full length. The blowtorch stops as the tip closes, protecting the blowtorch from damage.

Ikari jumps from the low wall, making little sound as she hits the ground. After straightening her posture, the one-eyed woman fixes the eye-patch that covers where her left eye should be. A scar escapes from the top and bottom from her eye-patch. The cyborg smiles again, the metallic teeth on the bottom row showing through the gap in her lips. Guess it was about time to actually find out about the troubling undercurrent flowing through this island. Now, what the best place to get information about rumours and such? A bar, of course.

Some time after the thought, Ikari enter a bar, sitting down at the front, looking at the bartender. The bartender quickly slides over and asks what the woman wants to drink. Quickly, and to the point, Ikari asks for a coffee and to make sure that it's black. The one-eyed cyborg goes on to think about what she would need to say to the man when he returns. She sighs heavily, wishing that this weren't such a touchy matter. The man returns with the coffee. Ikari pays the man, and speaks while she does so;
"So, I've heard that there's trouble brewing on the island."

[donnervark]

Darla couldn't think with her hands and feet tied. Even the feet would help. But blindfolded, gagged, and bound, even breathing was hard. Dark too. She tried over and over, regardless of how futile it was, to snap the cuffs. But even with her steel arms they were too strong, made for something bigger than herself. The sound the twisting made was high pitched and grating, metal against metal, over and over....until footsteps came. She went dead still and quiet, listening...hunting. They stopped at the door. They were coming for her. One entered and she pulled herself tight against whatever she was leaning on. She was taking blood before anyone touched her again. He stopped and she waited, but with a surprisingly swift motion he stole the blindfold from her face. She lashed at him only to be shut down by a forceful command that in her frenzied state had quite an effect. He tried to talk to her, claiming to want a friendly conversation. She didn't believe him, but when he offered her to free some of her bondage, she could not say no.

This wasn't how she behaved normally. Normally she was indomitable, a force of will and metal. But everyone has scars, and hers burn hottest when she is bound. When he removed the gag she sighed in relief, forgetting to try and bite him. When she recovered her senses enough, she changed her expression to a blank stare.

"Darla. You may call me Darla." She responded simply. The man wanted something, that was the only reason she was alive. He wasn't a Celestial Dragon, but he was a noble. Which was just another kind of bad.

"Very well Darla. I have a proposition for you. The important thing to remember is you have less than five minutes to make a decision on it." The man talked directly, and with haste. But he still flowered up his speak in that way she hated. Playing with words. Not her kind of game.

"Then maybe you should tell me it and stop wasting my time." He seemed startled by her choice of words, but smiled and seemed to relax.

"Alright fine. In less than five minutes a small explosion is going to go off, taking down that wall..." The man pointed to his right, at a plain stone wall. It was old, but looked quite sturdy. Darla quirked an eyebrow but didn't respond. "...right there. No one but myself knows this but that wall runs right parallel to the irrigation line running beneath the mansion. This is where you will escape when the wall goes down." Darla blinked several times, unsure of how to respond. Was he serious? Who was this guy? But he continued unabated. "Now you must strike me to make sure suspicion doesn't fall on me. But you follow that line to the garden and make your way back into town."

"Ok hold on. Why are you helping me escape? What's in it for you?" Darla had to stop him. She would never believe that a noble was helping her out of the good of his heart. "Don't you know I'm a criminal? I hate people like you. Sitting high up here like kings when the world starves! The hell do you get out of freeing me?" It wouldn't be hard, even cuffed and bound, she could probably get him in a lock easy and snap his neck. But he looked her dead in the eyes and didn't shift.

"I'm stealing this countries freedom from the world government. And you are going to help me for the price of your freedom." He didn't miss a beat, and Darla glared at him hard. No way she was believing this scumbag was going up against the World Government. It just wasn't happening. A noble? All rich and pampered, like a noble would ever risk their precious gains for anyone but themselves. This had to be an elaborate set up. Like he wanted her to take the fall or something.

"Ok I'll play along." At least for the moment. She'd find out what he was really up to, and snap his spine once the truth came out...if she could just get her feet free then she'd be free to do with him as she pleased. "What exactly do you expect me to do?" The man let out a deep sigh and leaned forward. Reflexively she almost kicked him across the jaw, only to find her jaw dropped as he untied the ropes on her legs. She stared at him blankly for a moment. He was crazy. Why would he be freeing her without any leverage?

"That was a token of my goodwill. I'm well aware of your capabilities, and the danger I am now in. Perhaps you might see this for what it is? And not what your past, whatever that is, has painted it to be?" She carefully stood up, never taking her eyes off of the noble. Then without warning she spun on a heel and shot her foot out like a whip, stopping it within a hairs breadth of his face. He didn't budge, just stared at her....then kept talking. "You have less than two minutes now. With your feet freed you can move quickly. I'm sorry, but undoing a knot is one thing, explaining how you unlocked your cuffs I cannot do without avoiding suspicion." Darla shook her head, still trying to wrap it around the Noble breaking her loose, much less his plan. "When you reach the city I need you to go to a street called Danneson Parkway off the corner of Grateson Avenue. Time is of the essence. Right now there is a courier heading across the city carrying some very important documents that spell the end of freedom for Toroa." The man stood up and straightened his suit. "I need you to kill this man and destroy those documents. You do not need to know the specifics, only that if the Marines get them as expected, then this kingdom will also fall under the World Governments domain." The man checked his watch and glanced at the wall. "All right quick! Its about to blow. Hit me!"


"What? What is the matter with you? Is this for real?" Darla heard everything, but everything she knew about the wealthy was corrupt and dishonest, sadistic and cruel. This Noble was confusing her and she wasn't prepared for it at all. The man groaned and grabbed her hands. The sudden contact made her lash out. She was still bound, and though the mans demeanor had disarmed her aggression, she was still an instinctual creature by nature. She cracked him over the jaw with both hands, sending him sprawling to the ground. He spat blood onto the ground and grinned at her.


"Have to make it look real. Now get down!" A small shockwave rippled over Darla's body as the wall imploded, scattering debris everywhere and choking the room with dust. The door almost immediately starting shaking from multiple hammering blows and shouts. "Denneson Parkway! GO! Destroy those papers and I will make sure you get off this island. Beyond that is your fate! GO!" Darla hissed and left the noble, and his cellar in the dust. She took off like a bolt, following the water in the small and cramped waterway. It was only moments before voices began echoing behind her. Only minutes later she burst out the pipe and into the nobles garden, just like he said. Free to move and function she made for the fountain and plunged her head in. She gulped down water until her stomach was full, then kept going. Her harness drew in the excess, pressurizing it inside her torso before making a buzz at the base of her neck to tell her the reservoir was full.


"All right lets get this fucking thing off. Spin Drive!" The sound of whirring machines and hidden gears wound up until a loud hissing noise signaled that enough pressure was built. Then her hands started spinning at the wrist, faster and faster, grinding against the inside of the cuffs noisily. Then with a heave she smashed them against a boulder. The combined force of her metal arms, the grinding, and the stone smashed the cuffs enough for her to break them the rest of the way. Then with one last glance back she took off into the night. Trust was something she'd never give a person with power....but at the moment he was the only option she had. "Denneson it is then....Danison? Shit, Davidson? Crap...." She grumbled as she ran, trying to remember the exact name, and cursing the Noble if he'd been toying with her.

[Deleted]

Lephar and Kilburn

Kilburn walked out of the mansion, heading straight towards the gate where the rabble stood. Of course, by this point, the rabble had become silent. The threat of death would make most individuals silent with fear. But not everyone fears the same things. Some believe that death is paradise compared to other things. And just what is this other thing? Oppression. Tyranny. The men and women at the gates would rather die that be placed under the World Government's thumb. Kilburn looked towards the group at the gate. The outer region of the group seemed to be dispersing.

Kilburn arrives at the gate. He placed his axe on the ground and simply leaned on it. He looked at the man seemingly leading the group. The man straightened himself up and spoke, a tone of authority escaping from his voice;
"As you can see, not all of us have left. Do what you wish. We do not fear you. We do not fear death itself!"
Kilburn began to smirk and then finally laughed. His laugh echoed through the group. As the echo passed through, each member began to turn more tense with each passing moment. Kilburn stopped laughing and his face contorted back to it's usual form;
"You really think I'm here to kill you? Heh. Don't be so naive. It would be simple to kill you, but that's not what we want. Need I remind you of the position you're in? We have quite a lot of information on a lot of you."

As Kilburn spoke, the crowd began to thin out. By the end of his speech, only the apparent leader remained, his eyes full of confusion. The man looked about and saw that everyone who had backed him up was leaving. Staring back at Kilburn, he spoke for a mere moment before leaving;
"This isn't over."
Kilburn smirked and walked back towards the mansion. As he walked, he spoke under his breath.
"Oh, but it already is."

---

Ikari Rabu

Ikari twisted the cap on the flask tightly shut. The aroma of coffee filled the air around the cyborg as she left the bar. It was definitely nice of the bartender to give her the coffee flask, especially after forcing him to talk. She looked at the knuckles on her right hand. The cybernetic woman sighed. She was sure that the bartender's bones would heal...eventually. Of course, the breaking of a man's bones was not unneeded. She had got to learn everything she needed to. There was indeed some form of plot to hand over Toroa. Citizens and nobles had signed some form of petition to hand over the place.

Ikari placed the flask into one of her pockets, walking away from the bar and thinking to herself. If the bartender was so reluctant to talk about the petition, that would mean that the citizens were forced to sign it. If the citizens actually wanted to hand over Toroa, they would have spoken freely about it. But to get both citizens and nobles to sign the petition would either require a man who could break them in half in a matter of seconds, or a master manipulator behind the scenes. Either one of these could be true, but due to the fact no bodies had shown up, the latter was more likely.

Ikari rubbed the bridge of her nose. Only a few questions remained. What reward was there for the master manipulator? They certainly wouldn't do it just for fun. Another question niggled at the back of the cyborg's mind. She opened her mouth and spoke under her breath;
"Now, where's the damn petition?"

[donnervark]

Darla moved fast and quiet. She had no desire to be captured again, even thinking about being bound made her crazy. Over and over she ran the names through her head, trying to remember which one it was. She was forced to stop at nearly every street starting with a D until she became frustrated. Unfortunately her only source of information was a drunk sailor staggering out of a bar. Still, she had to work with it. He was very fit and wearing a striped, tight fitting shirt. His face was surrounded by hair on all sides though, his beard reaching down to his belt. As he merrily wandered off into the dark she slipped up beside him and under his arm, sliding her hand around his waist.

"Huhoah! What the?!" He started to cry out in surprise, obviously thinking he was about to be mugged, but when he saw Darla smiling up at him his attitude shifted quickly. "Weeeell hello little girl! You must be lookin....hic...for some fun!" Ugh. Darla liked strong guys, and she was definitely gonna have to blow off some steam when she got to a friendlier island, but not with this guy. Info was all she needed from him.

"Maybe I am big guy. I'm sure a big strong fella like yourself knows how to treat a lady!" He grinned at her tease, showing off a mouth of badly stained teeth. She resisted the urge to throw him as he squeezed her close to his side.

"You bet! Me and my boys run the toughest trading ship in port!" He staggered for a moment, and appeared to forget where he was before seeing Darla. "You should..hic..come by our warehouse! Always a party! Always..hic...booze and music! We can keep you plenty entertained!"

"Well that sounds like a wonderful plan!" She put a finger to her lip and made a frown. "Though I've got a quick errand to run first. But i forgot the street name!"

"Is that all? Well I know this...hic...town like the back of my hand! Where you...." Again he faltered, before shaking his head and recovering. "...ugh...where you headed?" Darla gave him a pat on his stomach and stepped out in front, striking a pose with her hips cocked to the side and her arms crossed.

"Well it starts with a D and it ends with a 'son' I think. Davidson? Darlington? Dan..."

"Danneson? You...hic...looking for Danneson?" Darla nearly jumped out of her pants when he said it. The name struck home in her memory.

"Yes! That was it! Thank you so much big guy!" She started to head off when he called after her.

"Ugh...so see you at the warehouse?" She waved back at him with a smile, but was breaking into a run already.

"You bet! Try not to have too much fun without me!"

"Ok...hic...ITS IN THE BARKER DISTRICT! WAREHOUSE NINE!" Darla only half heard his shout as her mind was a flutter. The thought of getting this damned petition and getting free of this island took precedent over everything else. The only thing that caught her attention at all was another woman, young, maybe around her age if a little younger. As she passed a bar the woman put away a flask, and in the light of the tavern she could distinctly make out what looked like cybernetics. As much as that caught her interest she didn't stop. She maintained a full on sprint for several minutes before she skidded to a halt at the entrance to Danneson Parkway. It appeared to be a small road that only led to various mansions and estates, so excess travelers, especially at this time were unlikely. Which is why footsteps caught her attention and forced her behind a large decorative boulder. Peeking around it she spied a scrawny, rat faced man wearing exceedingly vibrant clothes. He carried a messengers pouch on his side, and looked terrified. He had to be the one she was waiting for. Darla waited behind the stone until he passed. Then without incident she lashed out from the shadows, striking him across the base of his skull with a knife hand strike. He collapsed with a groan and she snatched the bag.

"Well that was easy...best make sure this is what I'm after." She ruffled through the papers inside, finding a lot of account sheets and political papers she didn't understand. However she found a dark blue envelope with the seal of the World Government on it. "Yeah...thats gotta be it." She dragged the man behind the rock and stuck the envelope back in the bag. The rich man had only said she needed to steal it, as long as the WG didn't get it, which was fine by her. She could always destroy it, but she wasn't sure. Really it was over anyways, except for getting off the island. She'd have to lay low somewhere and figure out how to charter a ship. It might have been a testament to her lack of planning skills that she was still just standing under the street lights of Danneson Parkway as she considered her options.