Roleplaying

Short, rapid clicks of Tennor's sonar sounded dully off of the rocky, cavernous walls sitting on the sea-floor as he tried to avoid slamming his delicate nose into the course outcroppings obscured by the darkness.

-----"Where has the Source gone?
-----Where could it be?
-----I've been looking for so long.
-----Why must the one to search,
----------be old, lonely me?"

Tennor sung softly to himself, voicing frustration at the impossible task at hand. Searching at the bottom of the sea for weeks --- or had it been months now? --- for the Crimson-Source had proven fruitless so far, and he was beginning to lose hope. All Tennor had to work from was the last singings of the only other remaining Crimson besides himself: "The Crimson is deep and hidden..."

-----"Maybe, it's that you're not truly Crimson?
-----Maybe the Source is hiding from the non-believer?"

his mind floated back to the one thought that didn't seem to want to leave him.

Tennor's lungs began to ache for air, tearing his mind from it's self-destructive whinings, and he did a barrel role lazily before circling back towards the surface. He had always ignored bubble-machines in spite of their ease of accessibility compared to the surface, including the one that was perched on an outcropping beside him now, swimming smoothly past them. The air that pumped through them had a tang of metal, of machinery - the same tang that plagued the environment around him, that turned the water an acidic green tinged with red from rust and yellow from rot - the same tang that had come to represent pain and death to Tennor. And he refused to breath his own Death, however inevitable.

As Tennor acended to the surface at his own slow pace, he didn't seem to notice a shadowed figure skimming along swiftly behind him---

Caenatus moved silently between the tapered walls of a cavern, scantily dappled in light he was nearly invisible amidst the obscurity of the darkness. How intimate he`d become with every cave, every cavern, every fissure and hollow amidst the rocky outcroppings he`d come to call home. Yet even still, he continued to explore them again and again, driven incessantly to locate additional passageways that maybe he`d missed. He clicked exasperatedly as the passage narrowed to the point he could go no further. Yet another dead end; story of my life he thought ironically as he worked himself carefully backward and spun the other way, this particular expedition appeared to be over. He swam at a quickened pace for the entrance, but stopped abruptly as his echolocation picked up movement within the tunnel; there were fish nearby, a scarcity in these ever tainting waters. He dashed forward hungrily, snatching one, and nearly releasing it just as promptly; it tasted appalling even though his sense of taste was pathetic. He could taste the contamination in it, but forced himself to swallow it anyway. As much as he despised thinking about what havoc a steady diet of noxious fish must be wreaking to his innards; he reviled the thought of dying a gradual death from starvation even more. He tried apathetically for a few more fish, but they had already scattered and the endeavor of catching them only served to frustrate and tire him. With one last unsuccessful charge, he finally realized that he`d forgotten to breathe, and had inadvertently left his comfort zone. His lungs ached, and he made a mad dash for the entrance, and then arched for the surface, swimming as rapidly as was able. He burst forcefully through the surface, leaping intensely though the air, securing a cavernous breath before nose diving back into the sea.

As he reunited with the water he caught a flash of his mothers form sinking toward the abyss; a hallucination. He had relived that memory a lot as of late as the pollutants were finally starting to get to him. Will that be my fate as well? He thought solemnly, and then shook his head vigorously from side to side as though he could shake that memory loose. No, I won`t allow it! He thought unfalteringly as he perished the thought.

He then proceeded to head back down to attempt to snag some more fish before they relocated; food was difficult to come by after all. Suddenly, a glint of light off of silvery hide in the distance betrayed the presence of some creature moving in the obscurity. Someone dares tread my waters? How bold, but that was foolish I fear he thought vexatiously, donning just a touch of conceit; It`d been some time since he had heard the telltale clicks of another Cetacean, so of course he mistook the stranger for another mover; having no clear visual of it. He immediately dashed hostilely toward the stranger, intending to ward it off. He`d grown bitter toward other Movers to the point that he couldn`t even entertain the notion of having one cross his territory. In his haste, he failed to take notice of the fact that the distance was greater than it seemed; this stranger was not inside the border of his territory. He didn`t even realize he had crossed the eastern border of his territory as he slipped swiftly toward the other dolphin, intending to blindside it before allowing himself the opportunity to be noticed; which was rather harsh, but this stranger had caught him in a piqued state of mind.

The interesting thing about these waters is the dense, dampening fogginess in the waters. With a thick sense of purposelessness it mutes everything it touches, leaving the water dark and soundless to an echo based city. The clicks and faint wooshes of the dolphins hidden in these depths are swallowed by the hungry waters, leaving only the slow pulsing of one's own heartbeat to remain pulsing on the raw mind.

But to those of these waters familiar with the towering heart of the chasm, they could hear another heartbeat: The machines; Scraps of warm beating life from an era long forgotten. From the pipes came hisses of steam and belches of gases, noxious in smell and flavor. From the gears came the grinding and the scraping, pleas for oil and calls for adjustment to the trained ear of a Circle. From the depths of the machine - buried deep in realms unknown and wrapped in layers of harsh sand and stone and mortar - came cacophonous noises. Clangs and creaks and squeals of moving machinery brought the ground to life as a single snarling entity, childish and hungry for attention. This monster towered in its tiny cave reaching up to the sky with a sense of unfulfilled destiny whose irony could never be appreciated.

Among this monolith of time-forgotten, and shrouded in the lying whispers of lonely machinery, a pale dolphin swam. With his inky discolored hide it was sometimes difficult to tell beast from rust from steel but his lighter underbelly flicked into view as he wove between the tangled pipes and clicking gears.

Fife's mouth tightened rapidly, his expressions changing as he reacted to some sort of conversation he was overheating between one organ of the machine and another. If they'd listen to his words he would surely speak, but gears know only the language of action and of Circle. Pulling his jaw tight again, he spiraled the angry cog once more before jamming his blunt nose into the teeth themselves. It creaked unappreciatively, content in its flawed movement. Fife knew the gear was good it was understanding and strong, but today it rebelled and it needed guidance. He twisted his thick body and used his weight to turn the Circle with it, and together they set what was wrong to be right once more. The machine hummed contently once more and Fife pulled back, a faint trail of blood from his snout unnoticed as he admired the unity in a brief moment of tranquility.

His dulled eyes flicked to some movement in the haze and the calm was lost to uncertainty again. The area around the machine was dark chaos to him. Where he was - in the noisy heart - sound bounced around him continuously, illuminating the area to a stark solidity that he felt comfortable in. Out there, though, there was silence and breathing. The rocks where hiding but he could hear echos off them sometimes. They tried to tempt him away, but he stood stalwart to his Circle. Now though. Now there was movement out there. Movement that he didn't know and feared to grasp. Multiple shadows slid through the water with a sense of effortlessness that unnerved him and he drew back into the gears, too afraid to even click at the forms to discover if friend or if foe.

The blood he shed floated out into the water and mingled with the irony tastes of the pollution.

Seraphin was turning the Wheel of Pain.

She had the handle of the crank clamped firmly in her jaws, and was pumping her tail flukes up and down, with all her might. The wheel turned agonizingly slowly. Clouds of something toxic spurted out from beneath the wheel and enveloped her. She didn't know what it was, but it burned her skin like acid. She had been underwater for a long time, now her lungs were starting to ache from lack of air. Finally she couldn't stand it any longer. She left the wheel and headed back toward the surface. She was very deep underwater, it seemed like an eternity before she finally felt the cool air on her back and she could suck in all the air she could through her blowhole.

Her parents had often been assigned to the Wheel of Pain, just as she was often assigned to it now. Turning that wheel had killed them... she hated remembering that, it was as painful as turning the wheel itself... She was there when they died, they asked her to keep turning it for them. So she did. And that seemed to give her the strength to endure it. She knew this work would probably kill her too sooner or later, but she was just amazed she wasn't dead already. Most dolphins probably would be... She wondered why...

She decided to take a short rest before getting back to work, so she just floated at the surface for a minute. Then she saw another dolphin swimming nearby. She decided to swim over and say hello, hopefully he or she wasn't another Circle who would be mad at her for procrastinating.

Deathly swam along with some sharks and rays, gently moving his tail so while he hunted for food he was not harmed. He sent out small echos, trying to see if he can find dolphins to attack and bring down so the rays can end them. His skin had the many scars from accidents with the rays and sharks, battles not forgotten by him. Shark teeth still in his fins was a painful reminder of what happened on his first hunt. He hated himself for killing other dolphins, but it was his only way to live. He hummed low tunes in the water, his saddened but yet twisted song. He was abandoned by his family, and now was taken in by the sharks for he became a predator. But each day, he would wonder if he can ever be friends with another dolphin. His lonely echos still came across the sea, like a shallow wave of crimson or the small drop of water it echoed.

A world where the once-sentient dolphins have been enslaved and exploited by human-kind; their lack of Nobel Traits making them weak and gullible to manipulation.

Befouled waters and long-dead or unused machinery plagues the landscape as dolphin-kind attempts to scrape out a life for themselves, seemingly abandoned by their human masters, they still clinging religiously to the castes that man had imposed on their species --- completely unaware that humans and the Foe had destroyed each other (and themselves) in war.

 

Three different kinds of Dolphin exist here:

~~~ the Crimson: those that carry the "Mark of Man", or a red tinting on their flippers that's permanently dyed in. They acted as personal servants of mankind and had the closest, most beneficial relationship with them. They consistently refer to the memory of man as a God-like being and mourns their disappearance.

~~~ the Circle: white or light-colored dolphins that eagerly operate the machinery left behind by man. A repetitive mindset and well-ingrained ideals of self-worth displayed through work and loyalty shown through pain. They had a neutral relationship with man-kind, referring to him only that they recognize his absence; rather preferring to continue religiously performing their operating duties till his return than worry about what's going on.

~~~ Movers: orange and white dolphins with markings and builds similar to Orcas. They acted as the main work-force when dolphins had been enslaved and afew still wear harnesses or head-gear from their time being such. Movers are the most aggressive of the remaining dolphins, believing that strength and power are the only traits worth measuring in others. They had the worst relationship with mankind and rejoice in their absence, claiming them cruel and tyrannical.

Ecco the Dolphin has failed his mission to recover the Nobel Traits of Intelligence and Ambition, having died in the process of recovering them. Destiny states that Ecco and Ecco alone can rewrite the actions of the Foe and return the world to its proper state; without this prophecy coming to be true, the universe lets out one great blinding FLASH!!! Resetting the very world itself, waiting for the Chosen One(s) to try, once again, to right the wrong.

Ecco's powers, traits, and abilities have been divvied up and 'granted' to six of the worlds' inhabitants. They, together, have the capability to fulfil the broken destiny and face the perils of "Man's Nightmare", saving the world from a death-machine and simultaneously returning the Nobel Traits to their proper ancestors.

"At the dawn of the 30th Century, dolphins and humans had been together in a cross-species society for 500 years. Together, they had set out to explore space, offering peace and friendship to all who would welcome it. But space had its dangers; a violent species known as the Foe decided to conquer Earth. However, the dolphins and humans drove them to the brink of defeat, and so the Foe sought vengeance on Earth."

The Foe, finally making its move for revenge, went back in time to before the point where dolphins and humans had first met each other and stole the dolphin-ancestors most Nobel Traits:

Intelligence, Ambition, Compassion, Wisdom, and Humility.

(Lucky for us) Ecco happened to follow them and stop them before they could completely remove the traits from dolphins. Buuuuuuut, in the process of doing this, the Traits were accidentally scattered throughout history and Ecco goes back to get them. Ecco goes through all kinds of alternate universes as each trait is returned and alters the past.

1.) There will only be 6 characters in this rp; two for each type of dolphin available. (Two Crimson, two Circle, two Movers, that's it).

2.) Each character (with one exception) will each have a special Trait, Power, and Song that is singular only to them (so that means we have to organize abit, lol.) 

~~~Traits (Intelligence, Ambition, Compassion, Wisdom, and/or Humility): Their personality/being should emphasize whichever trait they receive; whereas other dolphins in the rp/in the world wouldn't have almost any of these things.

~~~ Powers: Vigor = Moves faster, does more damage when charging enemies, and able to swim through powerful currents. Sonar = Sonar is able to damage enemies and break apart certain stones. Air = Can hold breath longer. Endurance = Has more "health" than normal. And/or Stealth: Can become temporarily invisible.

~~~ and Songs: Song of the Shark = confuses Sharks, leaving them open to attack. Song of the Turtle = turtles will follow the singer. Song of the Fish = whole schools of fish will follow the singer. Song of the Ray = Rays can be directed where to swim and Sting Ray's panic and flee. And/or Song of the Plant = in-game this has little to do with this particular world; but we'll find some use for it ;D Generally the song 'activates' some sort of natural response in plants (like making a noise or spurting natural inks/poisons, etc.)

3.) The one exception being, all of these things come in sets of 5; but there's 6 characters...Sooo the sixth character will not receive a Power or Song, but rather the "Ancient Art of Metamorphosis"! Or being able to transform into other animals the character has previously seen/touched before. They will still have a personality Trait, however, so there will be a double on one of those.

4.) Having played the game "Ecco the Dolphin: Defender of the Future" (in which this rp is based) is helpful, but not necessary. If you would like more information on the world and story, I can provide links and/or direct you to the Wikipedia on it. ^^

5.) Bob is not aloud to be a Moderater for any reason in this rp. :U Not at all. Ever. If you see him doing it, or me making him do it even just alittlebit - punch both of us in the face.

6.) Normal-rp rules apply, blah blah blah.

7.) Admit to yourself that dolphins are cool and draw/write them till your brain explodes. :U This is mandatory.