The Untitled Adventures of the Unnamed Inventor In a tiny, dimly lit room, filled to the brim with whimsical, fantastical brass machinations; most of which are demonstration models of themselves sits a young inventor of no older than twenty-five, tinkering with his latest creation.The Untitled Adventures of the Unnamed Inventor by EmperorMP
As a steam locomotive thundered by-one of his own-he could tell just by the way she chugged by causing everything to rattle,and blocking out anyway sun light, dimming the room with her massive puffs of steam and sheer size.He nostalgically said her name, "Sparrow" bringing forth memories of how much of a pain she was to build.
After she passed and everything ceased to rattle and the light had returned. He returned to work on his contraption; a tiny demo model of his latest development, a clockwork person. It was about one inch wide and three and a half inches tall.
It could think, problem solve, see, eat coal, and starve. It could drink water, die of thirst, and bleed. Its blood was steam, and most importantly, it could feel.
After days of toilin
The Revolution Rising ever so calmly, thick billows of smokeThe Revolution by EmperorMP
As the thick piercing stench of sulfur saturates the air and burns my eyes
A gentle flurry of ash begins to fall, as if a winters first
Close at hand a mechanical hissing has made itself apparent and followed suit by the rhythmic drumming of a nearby jet colored locomotive
The causal fall of ash has cleared way to a rainfall of black drops. Out my own curiosity I tilt my head back and allow one or two drops to fall past my lips
A bitter earthy taste ensues
I begin to feel in my pocket for a strange stone, with jagged edges and rough bumps on its surface, and yet smooth and glistens like a mirror.