Voltus_Ventus — Roleplayer Guild

Pierrot was hefting two large slabs of limestone on his shoulders, his arms wrapped around around them to keep them from toppling and breaking. He filtered his way through the crowds of people that were heading to their homes or gutters where they lived, he dumped his pieces into a thresher machine and turned it, the large mechanical gears turning a shaft covered in what only could be described as scythes at breakneck speeds. he started to push his slabs into the machine, thier jostling teeth chattering, as the last slab went in he brought his hand too close to the blade and cut himself.

"damn it!" he cried in pain, Pierrot brought his finger to his mouth and sucked the coppery tasting crimson. He shut the machine off and looked around, apparently all the workers had left when he was crumbling the limestone. He clutched his fingers and started to walk across the quarry to the factory building. It was a large steel structure, it's roof was pointed like that of a cathedral but instead of stained glass windows there was soot laiden glass and instead of buttresses there were blackened smokestacks. As he reached the large doors it started to rain, the droplets stinging his skin from the speed of their fall and acidity it had developed because of the pollution in the air from all the smoke and gases. He hurried out of sizzling rain and into the rusted interior of the factory block, all was quiet in the cavernous structure, the only sound being the background drone of the rain hitting the roof.

Pierrot strolled to the farside of the factory and stopped at some scaffolding, he proceeded to climb it, one hand after the other, clinging on to the rungs of the industrial jungle gym. When he reached the top he stood on the creaky wooden platform from where he dis his surmmons and admired the scale of the building as he usually did when he had time to himself, 'we can build all this stuff,' he thought to himself 'but not a single thing that can stop this war?'. With a sigh he retreated further into the maze of catwalks until he reached his place of dwelling. The far corner of the building was cramped because it was right up against the slanted roof of the factory, it would have been small for an adult but it fit Pierrot like a glove. He slipped into the crevice and took off his overalls and boots, so that he was sitting on the wooden floor in felt trousers and his shirt, he rolled up his overalls and put them on the floor, resting his head on them shortly to make a crude pillow. His stomach grumbled when he closed his eyes, a deep primal grumble showing he was hungry but there was nothing to eat, absolutely nothing.

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The Voltusiest Ventus

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