Post by Mika on Nov 19, 2016 23:12:11 GMT -5
 | "I live, so that I might improve. I improve, so that I might live." |
"Do you ever stop to ask yourself...what can I build? Could I make something beautiful, if I tried? Or would I just make a mess..."[break][break]
[Juban District - Southside - 9:12am]
[break][break]Oh man. The morning was something else. The sunlight filled the sky, carving the clouds into comfy shapes. The surface below finding it a fine dance between cooling winds and warming rays. For many, this was going to be a perfect day. It just had that vibe to it. Which meant it was also a perfect time to get outside. The slow and cozy street life of Juban, out and bustling on this exquisite day. People everyone. Making excuses to be outside. To stay out there. One community in particular had more motivation than most. A growing population that treated days like these with the holy reverence they deserved. Days so clear you didn’t just see the sky...you felt as though you could reach out and take hold of it. Burning their treads and revving their gears. The Air Trekers were out en masse. Flying through the populous community like a migrating flock. Passing through the sky in grouped numbers. Making just as much noise and ruckus. Proving that everything is better with company. Even freedom and flight.
There were many places all throughout Juban; from which one could watch the athletic spectacle. Down on the streets put one closer to those still learning. Close enough to feel their wind as they whipped past and tore through the streets and alleys. On the roofs, for those who could reach them, there was an even grander show. The aerial dancing of the more seasoned runners. The way they would hurl and twist themselves in the air. More naturally than a ballet. They all seemed to soar, momentarily, like the birds fell among. Yet, each of them would come back down eventually. Only borrowing the sky for a time. Long enough to leave them wanting more. Until again, a new volley of tricks and flips would send them skyward again. Up and down. The unending pursuit. A mesmeric display that dared to steal Mika’s mind and heart alike.
Standing upon the roof of Roshu’s Ramen, Mika had a peerless view over the surrounding neighborhood. Six stories above the street. The building beneath him an apartment complex with a ramen shop in its foundation. The lovely place was a local favorite. You can smell the fragrance of boiling noodles and roasting meat several blocks in every direction of. The delicious atmosphere only half of the reason why Mika was perched on the roof. The other was the mighty view. For no other building near this one was as tall. It felt isolated in its elevation, and was a hella choice place to for a spectator’s roost. From here he could see all the dozens of Riders as they toiled and tricked. Watching, wide eyed and grinning, as they raced down their individual roads. aaaaaaachoooo Head flinging forward, then rising back up with a vigorous shake. ”Whew! Haah. What was I doing? Right. Rightrightright.” Blinking madly as he tried to regain himself from the system shock. The sneeze freeing him from his trance. Putting him back on his purpose.
Mika turned away from the building ledge. Dusting off his hands as he returned to his work. A tall structure he had been welding together since well before dawn. A strange contraption that mimicked a radio tower in many regards. It was tall, and most support beams at this point. The metal bars clearly salvaged and repurposed. Much of the metal he used bearing faded rust marks and different color schemes. Gathered from an assortment of places. All of which were most likely garbage dumps. At the top of the structure, however, was something most curious. Looking somewhat similar to a power line pylon...only made of glass. Within it was nothing but air. On the lid which sealed its hollow top, was an array. A roughly shaped dish. Made of recycled...solar panels? They certainly looked like solar panels. And they, like everything else, were mix matched and improvised. Different shapes and sizes, formed in an rough, uneven circle. Scratch that. They looked more like pedals on a flower. Trying to form a circle...but separated into segments and imperfect copies of each other. All of them, shimmering faintly in the glow of the lovely morning sun.
Looking over his progress happily, Mika reached to gather up his tools. Though he must have been working for hours, he had a newly revitalized pep in his step. Something about ATs always having this effect. Wearing a mechanic's jumpsuit, Mika had folded down the upper half to let his torso breath. It gets really hot in such thick apparel. Especially on an uncovered rood. Getting his arms and body back into the rest of the suit; Mika slipped on his gloves and went right back to his labors. Blowtorch in hand, sparking a fresh burn as he set to improving the foundations of the creation. Head booping to some distant music that played on the radio. Giving him a tempo to keep his work on pace. A subtle hope in the back of his head, that he could finish his work soon. Wanting to get things done before the Riders moved on to another area.
Focusing hard on securing the supports to his project, before a strong wind came along and tore it down. Fearing that set back more than death itself at this point. How unfortunate then...that a storm was coming towards him. Riding through the skies as the others did. Even if the child was nothing like them...
Tag(s): Clyde Quinn <¤> Word Count: 975 <¤> Notes: Break the tower, get a prize!
