Is it too late? The weather is unfriendly,
the acres of dunes are strafed by an angry wind
straight off the dark December ocean.
Above them, an overcast and turbulent sky.
The brothers compare their anxieties.
They have achieved so much, so little
remains to do. This is their biggest
flying machine. All the lessons they have
spent four years learning are built into their
most ambitious aeroplane.
the propeller, the curve of the wing,
They designed a petrol engine
to combine the smallest weight
with the greatest output of power, then
they built it, using metals untried for
B70James *One armed flail* Shut up you wipper snappers you *cane slither wave*
B70Ainsel (( -convulses- ))
B70Rorrim Rorrim isn't ooooold. He's still able to bust the moves *Fanservice jiggle*
B70James [ x D]
B70Haruka -BEATS RORRIM WITH A CANE-
B70Orville RORRIM YOU ARE STILL DISGUSTING.
B70Ainsel -Ainsel was on the floor outback in the dark, this is why all Senior Citizens should have life alert.-
B70Orvs (( *dies* ))
B70Rorrim A-AH! *Tries to run away and throws his back out* HNFGHHH
B70Angel -is dead probably. Her rper can't make up her mind :I-
The shrill sound of the morning alarm rang through the mines, echoing off the various tunnel walls. In an instant hundreds of workers clad in tank tops and baggy pants filed in through several huge doorways, grumbling about work and chatting with friends and neighbors. Each one picked up a shovel from one of ten huge barrels and, groaning and sighing about their current job position, began to dig.
A girl no older than 17 entered into the immense, dirt-filled room and started toward the nearest barrel of shovels. She was tall and lanky, with scrawny arms and legs and a long face. Her hazel-colored hair, which hung loosely down her back, was caked with grime and grut, as she had collaps
(SCENE OPENS: The sunny blue skies of Manhattan, as CAWING birds fly across the screen, soaring past puffy white clouds. Camera TILTS DOWN FROM the sky, then STOPS to get a HIGH-ANGLE LONG-SHOT looking down into a vacant lot on New York's Main Street. Located in the middle of this grassy, brownstone-flanked lot, is a Porcelain Pagoda with a glossy, golden exterior & a fuschia-painted roof with five extravagant, red-rimmed tiers, the eaves of which are all adorned with tiny, golden bells that sway gently in the breeze, giving off a merry TINKLE. The camera slowly CLOSES IN ON the lot, PANNING TOWARD the Porcelain Pagoda...)
(FADE INTO a HIGH-ANGLE LONG-SHOT facing & focusing solely on the Porcelain Pagoda, as well as the various things surrounding it. As we can see, the area around the Porcelain Pagoda has a playground [consisting of a seesaw, slide, playhouse, jungle-gym, sandbox, swingset, monkey-bars, & plenty of toys & playthings], a blue Ve