Steampunk! [open]

[Skulls And Pie]

Setting: A small, industrial city in Sedna, the semi-polar continent. It's November and already snowing there. A group of foresty lyftlands [sky islands] can be found to the north and west while lyftlands to the south and east are a little rockier. The city takes up a single lyftland, but is pretty large. Oh, and the city's name is ... Havønsberg.

Boots crunching through the snow, Océan found his way to the city. Blasted pirates, deciding that they would go to some more "fun" city. He was a fan of Havønsberg, it was a nice city. Having to trek through the ice and snow was not a fun task, though. Assholes can't afford to fly at least a little closer to the city. Whatever. At least he was there now. He pulled his feet out of the snow and onto the cobblestone streets of the town. It always looked so nice in winter, with the frost lining the roofs and all the lamposts iced over. He smiled and looked around, absorbed in the scenery. There was a toy store filled with children over here, and a tavern close by. He laughed at the irony. The mothers probably take their kids to the toy store while the fathers have a drink.

After a while walking, with some stares, he found himself in the town square. Illuminated by a circle of lampposts, their little fires glowing brightly, some benches adorned the circular square. A couple patches of grass were in the middle of the cobblestone, but now they were covered in snow. The central fountain spewed water, warm it seemed by the steam flowing off of it. A clock with Roman numerals clicked on top of it, made of the same brass. Océan sat on one of the covered benches - explaining the lack of snow on them - and placed his sack next to him. It was a nice winter day, he thought to himself.

[Audrey Zee]

James could hear the muffled squeaking of the soles of his leather boots and the clinking of their buckles as he trudged through the wet snow. It was beautiful to the eye, but caused discomfort in the form of icy water soaking through... everything. It was a relief to see the steaming fountain that James had been searching for. Bumping into a few people with distracted apologies and a few giggles from blushing young ladies, he made his way to the center of the square. As he did so, he checked his gold-chained pocket watch, despite the large clock set before him. James tucked the shiny watch back into his tan, brass-buttoned vest and rolled up the sleeves of his chocolate colored overcoat. Now standing before the fountain, he could feel the hot steam caressing his face. He bent to a crouch and dipped his hands in the warm water, splashing his dark hair and then shaking it into disarray. A curious shock of white lit his messy locks. He was too young to be losing color in his hair, at only nineteen.
James visited the fountain for only a minute, then rolled his sleeves back. His brilliant, mismatched eyes took in the square around him. The blue and brown noticed one of the covered benches which held no snow. It caught his eye, for there was an other man on the bench. James took care to sit on that bench, as to not soak his trousers any more, as well as his enjoyment for social settings. He sat in silence next to the other occupant, his young face staring straight ahead, trying to collect his thoughts. He didn't want to just blabber about anything.