A Clockwork City

The City, full of life, the hustle and bustle of everyday folks trying to carve out a living for themselves. The taxis, trams and trains doing their rounds, people bustling about with Fedoras, Trilbies and the odd Flat-cap. From the news stand on the corner to the city courthouse, people busy themselves with their lives. In the evening the restaurants, bars, and clubs offer a break from the pressure of work, a time for folks to wind down, have fun, drink and build romance.


Pulling back the curtain reveals a world unlike anything these folks could ever imagine. Oblivious, blinded and blissfully ignorant of the real world, the Drabs live their lives only wishing there was more, not realising it has always been right in front of their faces. We are the unveiled, those who see the truth behind The Shroud. We are the ones responsible for ensuring everything runs smoothly, and we are more than just aware, we are Sparks. We are those imbued with the power to shape the world however we see fit through our craft, be it mechanical devices, paintings, writings, or photographs. Sparks have the power to ignite, to light up the dark and bend the world to their whim. Unlike the Drab everyday folk, Sparks have access to their own version of the city, something Drabs can never discover. SparkTech enhancements are as varied as the individual Spark, augmentations to enhance the body, devices and creations that are everyday things, yet Drabs could never perceive it.


In the shadows of the city lurk mobsters, offering protection to the store owners who pay the price, collecting money for their mob bosses. In the side streets Slicer gangs lurk in the dark, seeking to steal from any unsuspecting Sparks, removing any SparkTech they see, in an attempt to enhance themselves. Hidden beneath the city, Occultists worship an unearthly master, an evil from the void which taints their soul and flesh every time they use the infernal powers they have been bestowed, summoning forth horrors and unspeakable nightmares into our world to do their bidding.


The Clocktower, a huge monolith, a strange building that neither fits the style nor decor of any known era, stands tall in the centre of the city. The clock face, never displaying the correct time. This looming tower of steel and glass is visible from any part of the city. Turning your attention away from it, even for a second, makes it drop from your mind. Any attempts to reach the building fall foul to distractions, wrong turns, or missing the street by one or two buildings. Asking for directions can lead to confusion, as each person you ask offers a different way of getting there, yet everyone remembers passing it at some point. But it never lasts long before your mind becomes distracted, and the thoughts fade from memory.


Anomalies happen fleetingly but are quickly forgotten. The time on your watch could read one time, then when you look at it later it could read a time prior to the first reading. Not remembering the last time you slept, the last time it was night or day. People can seemingly change lives, change job roles, or even become a different person altogether with the same memories, later appearing as their previous selves. Buildings, businesses and whole locations can change, well known establishments can move locations, or disappear, having never had existed, to then exist again some time later. Despite all this, these things are fleeting, and are forgotten as quickly as they are noticed.


Another day, another case, another murder on the streets, or another mystery to solve. This is the city that keeps on ticking, the city where anything is possible, and every case reveals a new danger, a new challenge to overcome, pushing forward in the hopes that life can return to some form of normality in a city that ticks, keeping the cogs in motion, never settling down.


A Clockwork City.

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