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Climax Control Archives / Princess 1859
« on: June 29, 2018, 11:02:36 PM »
Louisiana, 6 miles out of Baton Rouge
Sunset
The sun begins to set across the vast swamps of the bayou. Spanish moss waves listlessly in the cool breeze as it hangs from the ancient cypress trees. Their roots running deep in the Mississippi mud below. The calls from the creatures of the night begin. They resonate in a harmony of chirping crickets, bellowing bull frogs and low buzzing of mosquitoes.
A fog filters in between the large trunks as as night falls over the land. In the distance a low emitted light catches the cameras attention. It zooms in to focus on a small vessel coming towards the shoreline. A lantern burns brightly as possible in the Louisiana swamp at the bow of the small boat. It swings a little as the current pushes against the side of the craft.
The light casts upon the passengers of the gondola like watercraft. Both are dresses in long hooded robes,faces obscured by their hoods. The boat bow touches the bank of the swamp. The first person rises to their feet slowly as to not tip it over. They step onto the grass then turns around to pull the rig steady flush against the muddy ground.
The oarsman slings a hemp rope to the person on the shore then points to an old willow stump protruding outward from the muddy earth. The other then wraps the rope around the dead tree to keep the vessel from drifting away. After successfully tethering the boat a long delicate hand reaches for the lantern and plucks it from the hanger.
The lamps flame changes before our eyes to an intense blue color. The hooded figure then pulls back their disguise to reveal Kira Phoenix. Her black and blue hair flows down the robe, finally free of the restraint.
“Well, well, well...Baton Rouge. The mysteries you all revere had quite an impact on the ole Miss now didn't it? In 1859 a great steamboat named the Princess tread these very waters. She was boasted to be the most luxurious craft on the Mississip...the only problem? A single engineer with an over inflated ego much like yourself Williams. He was behind schedule and had something to prove.”
Kira holds her arms outward, the cape fans the fog rolling up on the bankside. Making it swirl and twist around her boots.
She then begins to casually walk alongside the swampy marshland, the lanterns light casting it's eerie blue hue across the landscape. The twisted branches of the trees above begin to look like long skeletal fingers. Grasping at any passerby in their gowns of moss. Again she speaks.
“The steamboat had an arrogant engineer in charge. Soon over 70 people would lose their lives as a result of his flaws. Much like you will lose to me come our match.”
Kira smiles evilly at the camera, batting her lashes with her oddly colored eyes. She then turns her attention to the water reflecting her lanterns light. The beam bounces off the water as it ripples past. Out in the distance the fog has gathered thick as gumbo. A steamboat horn bellows behind the solid white wall.
“Do you hear that?”Phoenix asks no one around.
“Sounds like she is rolling up the river again, after over a hundred years have passed by. Much like yourself Williams, a drifting shell of what once was with nothing much to offer.”
A light in the distance shines upon the water, barely visible. Two long smokestacks with crowns on their tops emerge. They seem to stay in one spot momentarily.
*Whistles*Kira waves the lantern towards her little vessel, summoning the oarsman to come alongside the bank to pick her up once more.
“Lets get a closer look, shall we?”
She gathers her cape and jumps into the little dingy craft. Directing the man to head into the eerie fog bank encroaching them on all sides.
“Madam li dangers yo dwe nan bwouya a move lespri yo apye” The oarsman tells Kira in French Creole a language considered endangered anymore.
She looks at him and gently replies to the obviously hesitant man in english. “I am aware of the demons mwen renmen anpil, they are my familiars in all forms. Don't be afraid. We are in no danger tonight”
He still looks a little spooked, but his body relaxes a slight motion as they continue to go further into the river.“Dwa isit la pralf`e”Kira speaks in Creole back to the frightened man then turns back to the bow of the boat.
“Soti nan reveye ki sot pase a, Montre nou verite a. Princess leve, li ban lavi. Bay lavi a sa ki tie pase isit lanan 1859.”She whispers into the fog.
After a minute the air around them begins to stir. The fog lifts in front of the boat revealing a most amazing sight. The steamboat Princess presents herself to the pair in all her former glory. Suddenly the huge watercraft blares it's steam whistles as it navigates the water.
Her oarsman cannot believe the vision before his own eyes. “Oh m`st dous mwen!,ki jan sa posib?!”
“Many things are possible my friend. Now, take us to her. We won't be noticed amongst the dead.” < font color=white> Kira assures the shocked man.
“Wi madam.” He responds almost in a trance still staring at the long gone steamboat.
Slowly they come broadside the boat. Kira helps secure their little dingy to the side to keep it in place.
“Blessed be mighty spirit, we mean you no harm to you or your passengers. Please show me what happened to you that fateful day.”
The large boat makes a groaning noise as in response to Kira’s request. “M`esi.” The Phoenix thanks the Princess and climbs aboard.
The lower deck is busy with passengers and crew milling about. The fashion of the time is on full display with tons of lace, petticoats, and fanciful feathers in hats. Which adorns many of the ladies on board. The men check their pocket watches and straighten their mustaches while talking politics and smoking cigars.
The hands of the boat so their job, checking the paddle wheel, and pulling cargo along the deck. Slaves bring refreshments to the paying patrons. A few shine shoes of those deemed high class. Kira walks amongst the spirits unnoticed.
A young woman in a french gown passes straight through the wrestler, while fanning herself along the deck. A young black servant brings her a glass of water in a cut crystal goblet. She snatches it from his fingers with a pure look of disdain for the boy. With a wave of her hand she dismisses the waiter in a huff.
“Even back then, we still couldn't be a nice society.” Kira mumbles to herself as she continues around the bottom level of the ship. Finding a staircase she ascends to the second tier of the Princess. A voice loud and direct catches her attention from above on the hurricane deck.
“We are already behind our schedule! NO! I will not lose our pressure! I will make it to New Orleans on time even if I have to blow her up to do so! Now get back to work dammit!”
It is the engineer Peter Hersey barking at the crewmembers to do their tasks. The steamboat groans again with the memory eluding from her hull.
“I am so sorry dear Princess, so very sorry he didn't listen to reason.”
Kira watches on as passengers go about their business. Looking to her right she notices a french door to the inside of the beautifully designed interior. She follows a young couple in, apparently recently married. The gentleman walks proudly next to his young bride. The small petite debutante beams with love at her new husband, her arm linked though his. They smile lovingly at one another as they enter the room.
The Phoenix smiles to herself as she watches them cross the polished wooden floor. The head towards some acquaintances of theirs. Her attention then shifts to a loud banging noise. The other people around her stop and look in the same direction.
*PING!WHIZZZ!BAAABOOOOM!!!*
A huge explosion sends everyone reeling! Kira shields her eyes with the flash of brilliant white light! She has no choice but to shut them tight just for a moment. As she opens her odd eyes, tears stream down her cheeks in realization and in sadness.
She walks amongst the panicked people. Watching the horror play out right in front of her. Crew that weren't hurt or dead scramble all around, trying in vain to fight the fires that are rapidly spreading. The young couple and many other victims lay dead from the blast. Steamed like lobsters, their flesh scalded to the bone. The pair are still holding each others hand. The wedding rings melted together into their bare boned knuckles.
Kira holds one hand over her mouth briefly. The smell is unbearable of seared and cooked human flesh. She almost vomits, but calmly regains control of her body. Blinking through the steam and smoke she makes her way back outside to the stairwell. From there she heads to the lowest deck on which she had first climbed aboard.
She reaches the railing, most of which was blasted off during the explosion. The oarsman calls out to her. “Madam! Madam! Sou li byen vit!” Kira walks over to her small craft and gets inside. They push off of the Princess away from the disaster unfolding in front of the duo.
The steamboat is ravaged by the flames still propelled forward from prior momentum. As the two watch it comes to rest on a sandbar. Crew and passengers help the less fortunate.
Kira looks down at the water as the young slave who served the young lady in the French gown wade through the water. He finds the young woman and rolls her lifeless body over in the water. Her pale blue eyes remained open after death. Extending from her temple of blonde curled hair is a piece of jagged iron metal. No doubt a piece of one of the four boilers.
The young servant then gently picks her up out of the water, then carries her over to the shoreline. Nearby slaves of the Cottage Plantation meet him and take her to the other now deceased patrons and crew.
The Phoenix observes the servants and people pouring barrels of flour all across the ground. They then take the most severely burnt victims and begin to roll them back and forth in the fine white powder. Their screams of pain and torture echo all around. Immediately they wrap them in sheets and curtains and lay them under the trees. Most quietly sinking into shock some passing out.
“Bondy mwen..” The oarsman stares at the chaos. Men and women lay dead on the plantations lawn, many covered in boils and blisters. Their clothes charred deep into their exposed visible bones. Some of the faces completely unrecognizable from the severity of the wounds.
The corpses facial expressions ranged from pure terror to peaceful. He loses his lunch over the edge of the small boat. Wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his robe, his eyes widen with fright as he looks up at Kira. Finally he speaks in english to the Phoenix.
“Witch...your a WITCH!!!” He points his shaking finger in her direction. She looks at him after a moment of watching the steamboat as she is consumed by the flames. Her eyes narrow slightly, then relax as she observe the obviously shaken Creole.
“Yes, yes indeed I am my friend. How else would you explain what just occurred here this night? My kind like yourself and your language are just as endangered Cajun. Beni janami m.”
His eyes soften and relax from the panic before. “I am sorry madam. I meant no disrespect.” He then watches the fog roll back across the water. Hiding the carnage that took the lives of so many, as if what just occurred never took place.
The cloud envelopes the small boat and the duo as they return from where they came. Kira then speaks one last time into the now silent and damp air.
“The sorrowful tale of the Princess of the Mississippi will never truly die. These very souls condemned to a continuous death. Repeatedly over and over like an old worn down record. You remind me of such an item B-rat as your so deemed. A shadow of someone else who preaches they will rule this place...Get in line sweetheart.”
Kiras oddly colored eyes dance in the blue lanterns light vicious and to the point. “You must remember one major thing about me. Much like this wreck of a ship I always come back, always.
From the ashes...I...Shall...Rise”
Kira leans into the light and snuffs it out with one breath. The pitch black night swallows her whole. A blue flames Phoenix burns into the screen then fades away to darkness.
Sunset
The sun begins to set across the vast swamps of the bayou. Spanish moss waves listlessly in the cool breeze as it hangs from the ancient cypress trees. Their roots running deep in the Mississippi mud below. The calls from the creatures of the night begin. They resonate in a harmony of chirping crickets, bellowing bull frogs and low buzzing of mosquitoes.
A fog filters in between the large trunks as as night falls over the land. In the distance a low emitted light catches the cameras attention. It zooms in to focus on a small vessel coming towards the shoreline. A lantern burns brightly as possible in the Louisiana swamp at the bow of the small boat. It swings a little as the current pushes against the side of the craft.
The light casts upon the passengers of the gondola like watercraft. Both are dresses in long hooded robes,faces obscured by their hoods. The boat bow touches the bank of the swamp. The first person rises to their feet slowly as to not tip it over. They step onto the grass then turns around to pull the rig steady flush against the muddy ground.
The oarsman slings a hemp rope to the person on the shore then points to an old willow stump protruding outward from the muddy earth. The other then wraps the rope around the dead tree to keep the vessel from drifting away. After successfully tethering the boat a long delicate hand reaches for the lantern and plucks it from the hanger.
The lamps flame changes before our eyes to an intense blue color. The hooded figure then pulls back their disguise to reveal Kira Phoenix. Her black and blue hair flows down the robe, finally free of the restraint.
“Well, well, well...Baton Rouge. The mysteries you all revere had quite an impact on the ole Miss now didn't it? In 1859 a great steamboat named the Princess tread these very waters. She was boasted to be the most luxurious craft on the Mississip...the only problem? A single engineer with an over inflated ego much like yourself Williams. He was behind schedule and had something to prove.”
Kira holds her arms outward, the cape fans the fog rolling up on the bankside. Making it swirl and twist around her boots.
She then begins to casually walk alongside the swampy marshland, the lanterns light casting it's eerie blue hue across the landscape. The twisted branches of the trees above begin to look like long skeletal fingers. Grasping at any passerby in their gowns of moss. Again she speaks.
“The steamboat had an arrogant engineer in charge. Soon over 70 people would lose their lives as a result of his flaws. Much like you will lose to me come our match.”
Kira smiles evilly at the camera, batting her lashes with her oddly colored eyes. She then turns her attention to the water reflecting her lanterns light. The beam bounces off the water as it ripples past. Out in the distance the fog has gathered thick as gumbo. A steamboat horn bellows behind the solid white wall.
“Do you hear that?”Phoenix asks no one around.
“Sounds like she is rolling up the river again, after over a hundred years have passed by. Much like yourself Williams, a drifting shell of what once was with nothing much to offer.”
A light in the distance shines upon the water, barely visible. Two long smokestacks with crowns on their tops emerge. They seem to stay in one spot momentarily.
*Whistles*Kira waves the lantern towards her little vessel, summoning the oarsman to come alongside the bank to pick her up once more.
“Lets get a closer look, shall we?”
She gathers her cape and jumps into the little dingy craft. Directing the man to head into the eerie fog bank encroaching them on all sides.
“Madam li dangers yo dwe nan bwouya a move lespri yo apye” The oarsman tells Kira in French Creole a language considered endangered anymore.
She looks at him and gently replies to the obviously hesitant man in english. “I am aware of the demons mwen renmen anpil, they are my familiars in all forms. Don't be afraid. We are in no danger tonight”
He still looks a little spooked, but his body relaxes a slight motion as they continue to go further into the river.“Dwa isit la pralf`e”Kira speaks in Creole back to the frightened man then turns back to the bow of the boat.
“Soti nan reveye ki sot pase a, Montre nou verite a. Princess leve, li ban lavi. Bay lavi a sa ki tie pase isit lanan 1859.”She whispers into the fog.
After a minute the air around them begins to stir. The fog lifts in front of the boat revealing a most amazing sight. The steamboat Princess presents herself to the pair in all her former glory. Suddenly the huge watercraft blares it's steam whistles as it navigates the water.
Her oarsman cannot believe the vision before his own eyes. “Oh m`st dous mwen!,ki jan sa posib?!”
“Many things are possible my friend. Now, take us to her. We won't be noticed amongst the dead.” < font color=white> Kira assures the shocked man.
“Wi madam.” He responds almost in a trance still staring at the long gone steamboat.
Slowly they come broadside the boat. Kira helps secure their little dingy to the side to keep it in place.
“Blessed be mighty spirit, we mean you no harm to you or your passengers. Please show me what happened to you that fateful day.”
The large boat makes a groaning noise as in response to Kira’s request. “M`esi.” The Phoenix thanks the Princess and climbs aboard.
The lower deck is busy with passengers and crew milling about. The fashion of the time is on full display with tons of lace, petticoats, and fanciful feathers in hats. Which adorns many of the ladies on board. The men check their pocket watches and straighten their mustaches while talking politics and smoking cigars.
The hands of the boat so their job, checking the paddle wheel, and pulling cargo along the deck. Slaves bring refreshments to the paying patrons. A few shine shoes of those deemed high class. Kira walks amongst the spirits unnoticed.
A young woman in a french gown passes straight through the wrestler, while fanning herself along the deck. A young black servant brings her a glass of water in a cut crystal goblet. She snatches it from his fingers with a pure look of disdain for the boy. With a wave of her hand she dismisses the waiter in a huff.
“Even back then, we still couldn't be a nice society.” Kira mumbles to herself as she continues around the bottom level of the ship. Finding a staircase she ascends to the second tier of the Princess. A voice loud and direct catches her attention from above on the hurricane deck.
“We are already behind our schedule! NO! I will not lose our pressure! I will make it to New Orleans on time even if I have to blow her up to do so! Now get back to work dammit!”
It is the engineer Peter Hersey barking at the crewmembers to do their tasks. The steamboat groans again with the memory eluding from her hull.
“I am so sorry dear Princess, so very sorry he didn't listen to reason.”
Kira watches on as passengers go about their business. Looking to her right she notices a french door to the inside of the beautifully designed interior. She follows a young couple in, apparently recently married. The gentleman walks proudly next to his young bride. The small petite debutante beams with love at her new husband, her arm linked though his. They smile lovingly at one another as they enter the room.
The Phoenix smiles to herself as she watches them cross the polished wooden floor. The head towards some acquaintances of theirs. Her attention then shifts to a loud banging noise. The other people around her stop and look in the same direction.
*PING!WHIZZZ!BAAABOOOOM!!!*
A huge explosion sends everyone reeling! Kira shields her eyes with the flash of brilliant white light! She has no choice but to shut them tight just for a moment. As she opens her odd eyes, tears stream down her cheeks in realization and in sadness.
She walks amongst the panicked people. Watching the horror play out right in front of her. Crew that weren't hurt or dead scramble all around, trying in vain to fight the fires that are rapidly spreading. The young couple and many other victims lay dead from the blast. Steamed like lobsters, their flesh scalded to the bone. The pair are still holding each others hand. The wedding rings melted together into their bare boned knuckles.
Kira holds one hand over her mouth briefly. The smell is unbearable of seared and cooked human flesh. She almost vomits, but calmly regains control of her body. Blinking through the steam and smoke she makes her way back outside to the stairwell. From there she heads to the lowest deck on which she had first climbed aboard.
She reaches the railing, most of which was blasted off during the explosion. The oarsman calls out to her. “Madam! Madam! Sou li byen vit!” Kira walks over to her small craft and gets inside. They push off of the Princess away from the disaster unfolding in front of the duo.
The steamboat is ravaged by the flames still propelled forward from prior momentum. As the two watch it comes to rest on a sandbar. Crew and passengers help the less fortunate.
Kira looks down at the water as the young slave who served the young lady in the French gown wade through the water. He finds the young woman and rolls her lifeless body over in the water. Her pale blue eyes remained open after death. Extending from her temple of blonde curled hair is a piece of jagged iron metal. No doubt a piece of one of the four boilers.
The young servant then gently picks her up out of the water, then carries her over to the shoreline. Nearby slaves of the Cottage Plantation meet him and take her to the other now deceased patrons and crew.
The Phoenix observes the servants and people pouring barrels of flour all across the ground. They then take the most severely burnt victims and begin to roll them back and forth in the fine white powder. Their screams of pain and torture echo all around. Immediately they wrap them in sheets and curtains and lay them under the trees. Most quietly sinking into shock some passing out.
“Bondy mwen..” The oarsman stares at the chaos. Men and women lay dead on the plantations lawn, many covered in boils and blisters. Their clothes charred deep into their exposed visible bones. Some of the faces completely unrecognizable from the severity of the wounds.
The corpses facial expressions ranged from pure terror to peaceful. He loses his lunch over the edge of the small boat. Wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his robe, his eyes widen with fright as he looks up at Kira. Finally he speaks in english to the Phoenix.
“Witch...your a WITCH!!!” He points his shaking finger in her direction. She looks at him after a moment of watching the steamboat as she is consumed by the flames. Her eyes narrow slightly, then relax as she observe the obviously shaken Creole.
“Yes, yes indeed I am my friend. How else would you explain what just occurred here this night? My kind like yourself and your language are just as endangered Cajun. Beni janami m.”
His eyes soften and relax from the panic before. “I am sorry madam. I meant no disrespect.” He then watches the fog roll back across the water. Hiding the carnage that took the lives of so many, as if what just occurred never took place.
The cloud envelopes the small boat and the duo as they return from where they came. Kira then speaks one last time into the now silent and damp air.
“The sorrowful tale of the Princess of the Mississippi will never truly die. These very souls condemned to a continuous death. Repeatedly over and over like an old worn down record. You remind me of such an item B-rat as your so deemed. A shadow of someone else who preaches they will rule this place...Get in line sweetheart.”
Kiras oddly colored eyes dance in the blue lanterns light vicious and to the point. “You must remember one major thing about me. Much like this wreck of a ship I always come back, always.
From the ashes...I...Shall...Rise”
Kira leans into the light and snuffs it out with one breath. The pitch black night swallows her whole. A blue flames Phoenix burns into the screen then fades away to darkness.
”
