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Storia MidReal
Eternal Fabrics of Fabrica
Scenario:Welcome to a sci-fi fashion world there everything goes with steampunk style… and everybody looks fabulous and gorgeous. It’s kind of magic and very outstanding from what our planet looks. This planets name is: “Fabrica”!!
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Elara Voss
young designer, friends with other protagonists, slender with intricate clockwork tattoos, curious and ambitious
Lyra Flynn
rebellious model seeking fame on Fabrica, acquaintance of Elara and Thorne, striking features with brass accents on her limbs, bold and manipulative
Thorne Blackwood
skilled engineer and Elara's confidant, friends with Elara and rivals with others, tall with goggles and leather apron, intelligent and secretive
"Did you hear about the model who got kicked off the catwalk today during the show?"
The question comes from a girl sitting at the table next to ours in the university’s cafeteria.
With final exams coming up, the place is more crowded than usual.
I pause in my rush to finish my sandwich and look at her.
I don’t recognize her, so she must be a freshman.
She’s pretty, though.
Her hair is a rich brown, almost black, and it falls in soft waves down her back.
Her eyes are an even deeper shade of brown, almost like chocolate.
She’s slender, like most of the girls here, but she has more curves than I do.
"Did you hear about the model who got kicked off the catwalk today during the show?"
The question comes from a girl sitting at the table next to ours in the university’s cafeteria.
With final exams coming up, the place is more crowded than usual.
I pause in my rush to finish my sandwich and look at her.
I don’t recognize her, so she must be a freshman.
She’s pretty, though.
Her hair is a rich brown, almost black, and it falls in soft waves down her back.
Her eyes are an even deeper shade of brown, almost like chocolate.
She’s slender, like most of the girls here, but she has more curves than I do.
"No, I didn't," I reply, curiosity piqued. "What happened?"
Her eyes light up with excitement as she leans closer. "I'm Sophia. I'm a journalism major."
"Nice to meet you, Sophia. I'm Elara Voss."
Sophia's eyes widen. "Are you a fashion student?"
I nod. "Yeah, I am."
Sophia leans in even further, her voice barely above a whisper. "So, get this. The model got kicked off because she was caught tampering with her rival's outfit right before the show."
My eyebrows shoot up. "Seriously? Who was the rival?"
"Lyra Flynn," Sophia says, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Lyra Flynn is a famous model known for her striking features and brass accents on her limbs.
The news hits me like a bolt of lightning. "No way! Lyra Flynn? Do you know what happened exactly?"
Sophia shakes her head. "Not all the details. But apparently, someone saw the model messing with Lyra's outfit backstage."
I shake my head, my mind racing with questions. Who would dare sabotage Lyra's outfit? And what could they possibly gain from it?
"Do you know Lyra?" Sophia asks eagerly.
"I've seen her around," I say cautiously. "But I don't know her personally."
Sophia looks disappointed but quickly recovers. "Well, if you hear anything, let me know! This could be huge for my journalism project."
"I will," I promise.
We exchange numbers before parting ways.
As I walk to my next class, my thoughts are consumed by the incident.
Who would want to sabotage Lyra?
And why?
I can't shake the feeling that there's more to this story than meets the eye.
Later that evening, I find myself at the fashion department's studio.
The room is buzzing with activity as students work on their final projects.
I spot my friend Mia hunched over a sewing machine and make my way over to her.
"Hey, Mia," I say, tapping her on the shoulder.
She looks up and smiles. "Hey, Elara! What's up?"
"Did you hear about what happened to Lyra Flynn today?" I ask.
Mia's eyes widen. "Yeah! It's all anyone can talk about."
"Do you know any details?" I press.
Mia shakes her head. "Just that someone messed with her outfit and got kicked off the show for it."
I sigh in frustration. "I wish we knew more."
Mia shrugs. "Maybe we'll find out eventually."
I nod, but my mind is still racing with questions.
As we work on our projects, I can't help but think about Lyra and the sabotage incident.
There's something about it that doesn't sit right with me.
Just then, my phone buzzes with a text message from an unknown number.
I open it and read: "If you want to know the truth about Lyra Flynn, meet me at the old library tonight at midnight."
My heart pounds in my chest as I stare at the message.
Who sent this?
And what do they know about Lyra?
I glance at Mia, who's engrossed in her work.
Should I tell her about the message?
Or should I go alone?
Before I can decide, another text comes through: "Come alone. Trust no one."
My breath catches in my throat as I realize I'm being watched.
I quickly delete the messages and try to focus on my work.
But it's no use.
As the clock strikes midnight, I find myself standing outside the old library.
The building looms over me, its stone facade weathered by time.
I take a deep breath and push open the heavy wooden door.
The hinges creak loudly, echoing through the dimly lit space.
Inside, the air is thick with dust and the scent of old books.
My clockwork tattoos hum softly as I move through the narrow aisles of shelves.
The faint glow from my tattoos casts eerie shadows on the walls, adding to the library's mysterious atmosphere.
I scan the room, my eyes adjusting to the low light.
In the distance, I spot a figure with their hood up, standing near a row of ancient tomes.
My heart races as I approach cautiously, each step echoing in the silence.
"Hello?" I call out softly, my voice barely above a whisper.
The figure turns slowly and steps forward into a patch of moonlight streaming through a cracked window.
To my surprise, it's not an enemy but someone I recognize—Liam, a fellow fashion student known for his reclusive nature and exceptional skills in design.
"Liam?" I ask, bewildered. "What are you doing here?"
He pulls down his hood, revealing his familiar face framed by messy blond hair. "Elara, I'm glad you came."
"I got your message," I say, still trying to process his presence. "You know something about Lyra's sabotage?"
Liam nods, his expression serious. "Yes, but we need to be quick. We're not alone."
A chill runs down my spine as I glance around nervously. "What do you mean?"
He gestures for me to follow him deeper into the library. "I'll explain everything."
We weave through the labyrinth of shelves until we reach a secluded corner filled with dusty manuscripts and forgotten relics.
Liam pulls out a small notebook from his coat pocket and hands it to me.
"What's this?" I ask, flipping through the pages filled with sketches and notes.
"It's evidence," Liam says quietly. "I've been investigating Lyra's sabotage for weeks now. Someone is trying to ruin her career."
I look up at him, my mind racing with questions. "But why? And who?"
Liam hesitates before answering. "It's someone from within our own department—a rival designer who wants to eliminate competition."
My heart sinks as I realize the gravity of the situation. "Do you know who it is?"
He nods grimly. "Yes, but we need more proof before we can expose them."
Before I can respond, a sudden noise startles us both—a book falling off a shelf nearby.
We freeze, listening intently for any other signs of movement.
"Did you hear that?" I whisper, my pulse quickening.
Liam nods, his eyes scanning the shadows. "We need to get out of here."
We make our way back towards the entrance, moving swiftly but cautiously.
As we near the door, another figure steps out from behind a shelf—this time it's someone unfamiliar.
"Going somewhere?" The stranger's voice is cold and menacing.
Liam steps protectively in front of me. "Who are you?"
The stranger smirks, pulling back their hood to reveal a face twisted with malice. "Let's just say I'm very interested in keeping certain secrets hidden."
My mind races as I try to think of a way out of this situation.
Before I can act, Liam lunges at the stranger, knocking them off balance.
"Run!" he shouts at me.
I hesitate for a split second before turning and sprinting towards the exit.
The sound of their struggle fades behind me as I burst through the library doors and into the night.
