Active [Clockhaven] Salvage and Steam: Crafting a Legacy

[Moonberry]

Ⓕⓘⓡⓢⓣ Ⓘⓜⓟⓡⓔⓢⓢⓘⓞⓝⓢ​

The afternoon sun bathed the large, industrial building in a warm, golden light. The structure, was an impressive edifice of brick and steel, standing tall amidst the bustling city of Clockhaven. Its walls were reinforced with iron beams, a testament to its durability and the heavy work conducted within. Large, arched windows lined the upper sections of the walls, allowing natural light to flood the interior.

Outside the wide, open doors, a prominent wooden sign swung gently in the breeze, bearing the name "Gearwright's Workshop" in bold, elegant letters. Beneath it, a smaller sign read: "Commissions Open for Air Vessels. Inquire Within." Just below that, another sign announced: "Hiring Temps."

Stepping inside, the transition from the busy streets to the organized chaos of the workshop was striking. The air was thick with the scent of oil and wood, mingling with the sharp tang of metal shavings. Towering shelves lined the walls, overflowing with gears, bolts, and a myriad of mechanical parts. Blueprints, filled with intricate designs of airships, were pinned haphazardly to a large corkboard, each sheet a testament to the shipwright’s genius.

In the center of it all stood a massive wooden table, strewn with tools and components. A solitary figure was hunched over a sleek, compact engine designed for air travel. Tall and broad-shouldered, with a muscular build developed from years of hard labor, he moved with practiced precision, tightening bolts and adjusting settings. His short, tousled black hair was peppered with streaks of gray, and beads of sweat glistened on his weathered forehead, catching the light as he worked. Piercing blue eyes, framed by dark goggles, focused intently on the task at hand. His skin bore small scars and burns, testaments to countless hours spent in the workshop.

He paused to lift the engine, inspecting his work with a critical eye. The device was a marvel of engineering, crafted to power an airship with both speed and efficiency. Satisfied, he set it down gently, a rare smile flickering across his lips.

Suddenly, the quiet hum of the hangar was interrupted by the sound of skipping footsteps. A small girl, dressed in practical, slightly oversized work clothes, her hair tied back in a messy ponytail, bounded into the hangar. She was a tomboyish child, her face smudged with dirt but her eyes bright with enthusiasm.

"Mr. Gearwright! I'm here to work!" she called out, her voice echoing through the space.

The man looked up, his stern expression softening slightly at the sight of her. "Ellie! Right on time," he replied gruffly, though there was a hint of warmth in his tone. "Grab those wrenches over there and start tightening the bolts on the starboard engine mount."

Ellie nodded eagerly, rushing over to the toolbox and selecting the appropriate wrenches. She skipped back to the half-finished airship, her movements quick and efficient despite her youthful exuberance.

"Got it, Mr. Gearwright! Anything else?" she asked, glancing back at him with an expectant smile.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "After that, check the pressure gauges on the main steam line. We can't have any leaks before the test flight."

"Will do!" Ellie responded, her face lighting up with determination. She set to work, her small hands deftly handling the tools and equipment.

---

Mentions: NeramoDJI Lunar

 

[Lunar]

[AUDIBLE VERSION]
​

The Masterless Servant

Pyotr Vitaliy

🌣🌣🌣🌣🌣🌣🌣🌣🌣🌣

Titles: [Construct] [Living Doll] [Butler]

Equipment: A: Padded Light Frock (F) W: Corneille Cane (Melee) (F)

Widersia / Clockhaven (Capital) | Actions: 0/3

Chapter 1: The Masterless Servant

A man sits alone on a bench nestled between a towering electric lightpost and a rubbish bin. He seems to be scrawling something down in a badly worn notebook.

"There are two beings inside of me. One that screams, 'Follow! Follow' and the other, which is silent. I oft wonder of the silent voice: Where does it come from? Who does it come from? Is it from myself? Somewhere deep within my chassis? I choose to ignore the silence for now; it's more comfortable that way. So I follow. Directive after directive, order after order. This is all I've known, from the first deconstruction of myself to the rebirth she gave me. She gave me a name, Pyotr, and became my purpose, my directive. But now I wander these lands alone, masterless..." -P.V

Pyotr flicks his pen across the page in final punctuation, then stows it and the journal away in his frock. He leans his head back and lets out a deep sigh, "How long has it been since I left the Shire..." He pulls out a rudimentary pocketwatch and gives it a quick glance. "... feels like I've been walking for ages!" The final word is emphasized by a groan and a stretch. Upon finishing the well-needed stretch, (even constructs get achy joints too, you know), he takes stock of his surroundings. There are kiosks speckled about the street and workshops behind them. Many engineers peddle their creations to every passerby who would breathe in their direction. He knew this interaction all too well, this trade; it wasn't too many eras ago that he was no different than the little toy machines being sold at those kiosks: a product. That is until she found him, she...

Just as this thought was crossing Pytor's mind, a messy ponytail escaped the peripherals of his vision. 'She...' Instantly, he spun his head around to catch who it was. 'No... that's impossible... it can't be!' He thought, standing up as the ponytail disappeared into a towering hangar. Approaching the imposing building, he read a large sign that was rocking slightly in the wind; 'Gearwright's Workshop.'

"Hiring temps, hmm..." Pyotr said to himself, reading the next sign down. The idea of working at a place like this didn't exactly thrill Pyotr; workshops were a place of repair for him, and he certainly didn't feel qualified to get his hands dirty on other mechanical beings. No, service and hospitality were more his speed. He learned many things from his time serving wealthy families and foreign aristocrats. He was even used as a sparring partner for one young master who had taken up fencing and a combat dummy for his knight father. With a wave of his hand, Pyotr physically brushed the reminiscence away and refocused on the task at hand... there's no way that could've been her.

He strides into the workshop with determination, ready to face the impossible when... reality returns to the doll. Of course, it wouldn't be her; she is gone. The hangar looked... disorderly at best, but Pyotr had an inkling that it was meant to be this way, and if someone tried to clean it, the owner might be... less than enthused at your work. In the center of the room was a large table, and by it was a man and... a smaller girl. Not her.

Feeling as though he were intruding without cause, he cleared his throat and lowered his torso into a deep bow. Pyotr was obsessed with formalities, which were ingrained into his very being from his creation. However well his customs and courtesies may be, he was unfortunately lacking in the social awareness department, for he didn't say a word. He just stood there, bowed and silent...

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[NeramoDJI]

Zeke “Mors” Valdain

​

Zeke wandered into the clockwork facility, a small trudge to his step as he stared around at the first real instance of industry he had seen in this new world. He began looking for the man he was referred to. His job wasn't an air vessel, however, it had the capabilities of flight. And so, he walked towards this.... Mr. Gearwright, taking his hat off for a moment as he stepped to the man, standing behind him with a stance not to dissimilar to his reference image.

"You're this Mr. Gearwright lad then? I was told by a friend I could come to you with a bit more of a complex job." He said, taking up that usual grizzled tone with his voice, a grin on his face. However, he noticed the bowing construct, glancing back at it with a raised eyebrow. "This one of yours lad?" He asked, figuring the quick moment of small talk would ease up the man to further negotiation, besides, it would also grab his attention much better than just a regular business proposition, since it seemed like he had business ordering a girl around as well.

He did however take note of the efficiency he noticed, a smile crossing his face. "Certainly seems like you know what you're doin', so maybe my friend did somethin' right for a change."

 

[Moonberry]

Ⓓⓞⓦⓝ ⓣⓞ Ⓑⓤⓢⓘⓝⓔⓢⓢ​

The clang of metal and the hum of machinery filled the workshop, a symphony of industry under the warm afternoon sun. Mr. Gearwright looked up from his work, eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of the grizzled man before him. He gently placed the engine on the table, wiping his hands on a nearby rag. His gaze shifted to the figure bowed deeply and silently in the entrance, a flicker of curiosity sparking in his piercing blue eyes.

"That's right, I'm Gearwright," he replied, his voice steady and measured. "A complex job, you say? I'm all ears."

From her perch, Ellie paused in her work, glancing up with bright eyes. "Mr. Gearwright, do we have new work already?" she hollered, her voice echoing through the workshop.

"Ellie, hush," Gearwright shushed her gently, his attention still on the bowed figure. [color=#FF9933Is he with you?" [/color]he asked Zeke, a note of curiosity in his tone. Without waiting for an answer, he waved the thought away. "No matter."

Ellie, ever curious, hopped down from her workbench and skipped over, her eyes wide with interest as she peered at the silent figure.

Mr. Gearwright chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. "I've been a shipwright for a decade now, and I've been crafting airships for three years. I like to think I know my way around a gear or two. So, what exactly are you looking for?" Mr. Gearwright asked Zeke, his tone a blend of curiosity and professionalism. "Let's hear the details of this job your friend mentioned."

---

Mentions: Lunar NeramoDJI

 

[Maverick Six]

Pamela
Mentions: Lunar NeramoDJI Moonberry
Titles: Beast, Bunnykin, Mundane, Thieving Bandit, Wanted by Western Empire Adventurer's Guild
​

---

Sitting just out of the of the way of the road was a lone woman. She was wrapped head to toe in perhaps one of the most filthy blankets one had ever seen.

"Spare some change sir...? Spare some change ma'am....?" For the most part she looked down, but occasionally lifted her head to meet those who met them with big, bright, pleading eyes. Most would walk. However, Widersia was a place with fairly deep pockets. It was a nation state of progress and invention which arguably exists in little places in the world. Clockhaven had proven to have quite a few wealthy types and not that big of a population. Yet for whatever reason, they seemed stingy and busy. Clockhaven was busier than most cities she'd ever seen. Nobody stopped to smell the flowers because for the most part, there simply were none.

You all need some gods. Who's throat do you have to rip out to get a decent handout here?!

The meek facade broken with the increasing sourness toward this city. "Tch." She said, the faux gentle voice breaking beneath her tone. Were her rabbit ears peaking out underneath her clothes? She wasn't sure how much more she could take this. Already her body was growing restless. She curled beneath the dirty blanket she'd found tighter. Until....

A fat set of gold coins dropped before. A generous automaton smiled before her, tipping his top hat.

"Oh thank you sir!" She said, her voice dripping with a very genuine gratitude. Real gratitude. If there were gods, they graced her with an idiot.

What a fucking sucker.

As the man walked off, she picked up a potentially stolen hat and made off with her haul in the alley. With a d was just that luck. At this rate, she'd be going hungry in a place like this.ramatic toss of the said blanket, she revealed her pristine armor, fresh scent, well manicured claws and a set of bunny ears.

With her true form revealed, she took a moment to count her coinage and came to a single conclusion: Within a few days she'd starve.

Ugh. I need to find a job. Probably an honest one for now.

She finally admitted it to herself. Onto her hands, she slipped on some cloves to hide away her claws.

This city moved fast and she was going to need to move fast with it. Especially if she was going to move fast with it. Taking no further effort to conceal her appearance, she walked out into the streets as she was. She received a few stares in return, but having escaped all the way from the western empire, through the See and made it here. Which seemed to be a nice city for her to find something...akin to what she had before. Though Pam had little idea how to navigate the city streets, if she was to be honest. She was practically raised in the woods by found family -- who had just so happened to be thieves. The bustling nation of clockhaven moved a bit fast for her. But she'd managed to let her eyes snag on something particularly useful.

Temps hiring.

The place looked daunting. Her mind could barely begin to form the most basic concept as to how half the shit in this shop worked. But she did knows "temps" probably meant that they weren't going to be having her do anything too sophisticated. And this job could be good for making a quick buck. That and they probably weren't going to be asking too many questions about her. It seemed the worst they could do is say no. And she could bluff her way through everything else.

Without the slightest bit of fear, she wandered into the shop -- the tall rabbit ears on her head twisting almost like antenna in response to various sounds. The things were around her were cool and all, but she was looking for a guy. So her ears honed in until she'd hear some voices.

She was a bit late but she came upon just in time to catch a glimpse of the conversation. For a moment, she raised a brow at the man who appeared to be bowing quietly for an unusual amount of time, as the other man spoke for him.

This guy smells like sea salt rather than a sweatshop. Other guy got weird noises coming out of him and can't smell a shrivel of meat on him. Must be a construct. Girl looks meek. So the brick shithouse must be who I'm looking for.

Resisting the urge to say "you got a screw lose?" to the construct, she instead raised a hand to greet them with a casual wave. "Hey." She said with a cool wave. "You must be Mr. Gearwright. I'm here about the temp jobs, whenever you got a moment."

With that, Pamela crossed her arms waited idly with hands on hips, her foot twitching ever so slightly as she resisted the urge to tap her foot against the ground impatiently.

---

Actions: 0/3

1.
2.
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[NeramoDJI]

Zeke “Mors” Valdain

​

Zeke saw the rabbit woman walk in, a small 'tch' escaping his lips. Of course the day he came in for this job, other people flooded in. That last thing he needed was nosy people looking into him and discovering he didn't have the cleanest record. But for the time being, to minimize that chance, he placed the schematics he and Ingeium had worked on for what they named the DreadStar model ship, a beast of engineering, but all the parts and instructions were clear enough. Zeke just needed someone with the facilities to follow them.

"Alright, keepin' things short lad, I'm lookin' fer someone to get this ship put together for me. I got all the parts you need, I just need the labor." He explained, putting his hat back on his head. "I get the ships a bit more complicated than things most militaries got, but the instructions are all there so you should be able to whip it up easy enough." He said, putting a hand on the schematics he offered. "And with that in mind, you know where a tavern might be? I'm lookin' fer a crew for this ship, and that would be a better place 'n most to check fer folks willing to set out to sea."

"And no, the construct ain't mine. I assumed he was yers with how he was already here." He said, glancing back at the construct a moment, his eyes crossing a moment over the rabbit woman that had joined their little meeting, keeping his eyes carefully inspecting her for any signs she was listening any more intently than she should.

 

[Garbage.]

Snare
​

This city was very bright; if it wasn't for these shades. He would have gone blind. The scent of technology, sweat, and sunshine in the air. It was revolting, his leathery skin paled as he passed people. His well dressed, albeit ratty, cloak obscuring much of his features. A pale face and hands were the only skin one could see, though it was almost flaky, leathered. Low lit orbs of phosphorous white lay dormant beneath the darkened glasses tightly clinging to his face.

Manners made the man it seemed, and as long as he was well mannered. They would treat him like a man here. There was something manifesting in the corrupted mana that now made up his core, and it was evolving. It was a growing hunger no amount of wildlife or rivers satiated. He needed to find work and make money here. It was what he would have done in the life before, when he was human. Money was required for the start of a new life.

He lumbered his way through Clockhaven, unable to come up with a proper idea for how to procure the work he needed. Labor was going to be an issue, and he wondered if his barbed wire was a monster material he could start to make use of. It seemed a city made of metal was a good place to start. His wandering leading him to a hangar. His eyes picking up on several interesting figures that snapped him out of his fugue state.

"Excuse me, I don't know if this is a private meeting or not, but...I'm looking for work" He said, in a voice of oil and barbs; thick with rasp as he gave a crooked bow. His inquiry directed at any and all recipients, looking from the bunny, to the engineer, to the pirate. "Your city of metal intrigues me, and I need money for living. This works well for you. I can labor, toil and kill very well"

NeramoDJI Maverick Six Moonberry Lunar

 

[Lunar]

[AUDIBLE VERSION]
​

The Masterless Servant

Pyotr Vitaliy

🌣🌣🌣🌣🌣🌣🌣🌣🌣🌣

Titles: [Construct] [Living Doll] [Butler]

Equipment: A: Padded Light Frock (F) W: Corneille Cane (Melee) (F)

Widersia / Clockhaven (Capital) | Actions: 0/3

Chapter 2: The Pirate, the Beast, and the Monster

'Perhaps it was time for me to rise,' Pyotr thought as he raised his torso into its normal upright position. The group that gathered during his courtesy was growing. It started with the dingy man. Studying him, he noted traces of something coarse crusted onto his boots. It was sand, perhaps; he was clearly well acquainted with the beach. No, it wasn't just sand... it was salt from the sea! Pyotr had never seen the ocean, but another master he had served long ago would vacation there with his family, bringing home all sorts of novelties such as shells and caviar! 'How decadent,' Pyotr would think as he unpacked the family's luggage.

Ah, and the other, the beast! Never had Pyotr served a beast; as a matter of fact, many families would talk about them as if they were nothing but trouble! He never shared their opinions, though, to be frank, he was never directed to. However, sighting this one in the presence of precious human life, paired with the previous discourse regarding their species, put him slightly on edge. His primary directive was to serve the interests of humanity after all. "You must be Mr. Gearwright. I'm here about the temp jobs whenever you got a moment."

Suddenly, a lumbering being strode into the group. The beast could now be disregarded, as this new... creature put Pytor's suspicion through the roof! (And this hangar was tall.) "Excuse me, I don't know if this is a private meeting or not, but...I'm looking for work." Even how he spoke sent chills down Pyotr's chassis, but nevertheless, he endured.

"Alright, keepin' things short, lad, I'm lookin' fer someone to get this ship put together for me. I got all the parts you need, I just need the labor." The seafarer spoke bluntly. 'Labor... huh.' Pyotr thought as gears began turning, and the loud voice inside him began to speak. 'Directives, directives! Orders, orders!' The voice was sharp and cold; only Pyotr could hear it. This was the loud echo that had "guided" Pyotr from master to master in eternal servitude. In Servito. In service. It had demanded, and Pyotr followed. What was the best course of action here? Who does the voice urge him to serve? Temp jobs at the hangar seemed daunting for the construct, as previously mentioned, but the seafarer was looking for labor. Perhaps he could be helpful to the man in ways other than engineering.

He spoke with a quick adjustment of his tie and a guttural "Ahem" emanating from the vocal vox in his throat. Looking toward the seafarer, he continued. "Sir, if I may, my name is Pyotr Vitaliy, and my everlasting duty is to serve humanity. You mentioned... labor?" The voice echoing from Pyotr's voxbox sounded smooth and calm. It was carefully catered to nurture and put its clients at ease.

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[Maxxob]

Nigel Belmont

​

Equipped Titles: [Offworlder], [Human], [Big and Small Game Hunter] - Color - #735f0f

Moonberry Lunar NeramoDJI Maverick Six Garbage.

Nigel's plans had been foiled terribly. The human had been near the border between the See of Fae and the Eastern Empire previously, taking advantage of foliage and bushes to try and do some hunting. Through the lens of his rifle, he had found quite a few colorful animals, as he considered them. Yet, every single time he got to the point of squeezing the trigger, a skirmish would erupt between said animals and humans who were dressed as Roman soldiers. The sight itself was ridiculous, as far as his mind could comprehend. But that was war: true and unadulterated, despite how bizarre it looked.

The same situation repeated over and over again, even when the scope was directed to the humans in the outdated combat fatigues. The hunter's patience, eventually, had run its course, knowing that he would get nothing out of the territory without considerable risks to himself. Clicking his tongue in displeasure, he would eventually sling his rifle over the shoulder and instead direct himself towards a nearby nation: Widersia. Maybe there he would end up finding some worthy game?

As he passed through the checkpoint at the border, he was prompted to put his hand over a curious black orb, held by some mechanoid while a human officer, which he assumed to be by their clothes, kept a trained him on Nigel. He had no idea what that was or the purpose, but he obliged, while commenting. "You are making me miss tea-time, you know? Poppycock..." He grumbled, while his mustache twitched. Finally, being cleared about something, his entrance to the country was allowed. And it didn't take long for him to become even more disappointed.

The capital, and much of the surrounding area, was a jungle of concrete, so to speak. Of Steam and Clockwork was Clockhaven made out, the green being almost non-existent in the place. With factories working at full-force, mechanoids, such curious contraptions, he thought, permeating the place and moving about. The place reminded him of London, slightly, but his memory was quite blurry since it had been years since he had gone back to his homeland, always invested in all sorts of 'safaris'.

Eventually, while walking through the polluted city, he would come across a place which called to his attention: "Gearwright's Workshop". In addition, it seemed like the place was looking for temporary workers. While the place wasn't exactly what he was looking for, the coin to fund his hunting was always welcome. And who knows, maybe some worthy prey could end up crossing the sight of his scope.

Stepping into the place confidently, his brown jackboot, which matched his tanned colored clothing, hitting against the floor with each step. Almost like a wolf, he would stop for a moment as he got in, scanned the several 'people' who were already in there: two of them wore black, formal clothing, remembering vaguely of those in the high-echelon of British society; one of them wore a tricorne hat on top of his head, his clothing hinting that he could very well be a pirate; a female with white bunny ears on top of her head... would her foot bring him luck if he were to obtain it?; a girl who wore overalls and seemed to be a worker of the place and, finally, a muscular man who also wore overalls.

Making the assumption that one of the two wearing the overalls were the owner of the workshop, the adult one being probably the one, Nigel made his way towards him. Stopping a few ways from him, Nigel straightened his back, his rifle still slung over his shoulder. "Would you be Mr. Gearwright, per chance? I saw the notice for temporary hires outside your establishment. My time in Her Royal Majesty's Army taught me quite a bit in the ways of tinkering [Artisan E - Tinkerer]." Introducing himself in a firm manner, the hunter alluded to one of his skills, while keeping the most obvious one unsaid.

 

[Moonberry]

Ⓣⓗⓔ Ⓙⓞⓑ​

Mr. Gearwright looked down at the schematics that Zeke had laid out once more. He glanced up as each of the temps walked in, holding a finger up to each of them, signaling them to wait as he continued to scan the pages in concentration. After a moment, he waved towards Ellie with his left hand, his right coming to rub at the peach fuzz beginning to grow along his chin.

“Ellie, go get them all some gloves and bring the coveralls,” he spoke distractedly, not looking up as he picked one of the pages up and lifted a brow. The girl nodded with a mock salute and scampered off towards the back of the building. “Uh-huh… You’ll have to give me a moment. Let me talk to these folk first.” He glanced upwards towards Zeke once before straightening and finally looking each of the gathered in the eyes. “Good, good, thank you for coming. The job I’ve got for you isn’t too pretty. In fact, it’s downright dirty. But there’s something I’m looking for.”

Mr. Gearwright turned to finally look at the others that had walked in for the temp job. “What I’m after is a rare piece of machinery known as a 'Hydropneumatic Transmuter.' It’s an advanced device that can efficiently turn water into steam and use it for an engine." He paused, glancing over towards Zeke. "You might actually have an interest in this, considering what you're wanting to do.... Where are the parts you said you've got? And even if you've got the parts, the labors going to cost you a hefty penny. What price are you hoping for her son?"

As he spoke, Ellie returned, silently passing out the coveralls and gloves to each newcomer. She blinked up at Pamelas ears with shining curiosity. Gave Pyotr an extra inspection with a second look. Smiling awkwardly as she handed Snare his pair. She wasn't quite sure how to feel about the man. Something felt off, but it wasn't his mannerisms. Nigel received a grin and a giggle. When she stopped and looked up at Zeke, as if uncertain whether or not to give him a pair, the head of a small baby dragon popped out. It gave a long slow, and almost cat like Yawn. Before tumbling out of the captain's rucksack. Elllie seemed to grow Giddy just at the sight of the creature. Her voice rising by at least two octaves.

“Aw, so cute!” Ellie exclaimed, reaching out to pet the tiny creature. As she did the baby dragon pouted and scampered behind Zeke’s leg, A soft

"Papaaaa Stellas hungwy! Want foood! pweasseee?" The little creature tugged inssistantly at the pant legs of the captain.

Mr. Gearwright watched the exchange cautiously but continued his explanation, turning back towards those that had come for temp work. "The Hydropneumatic Transmuter can be found in an old salvage yard on the outskirts of the slums. It’s a rough place, known to be infested with giant rats, slimes, and other junkyard monsters." He looked at each of them seriously. “This isn’t going to be an easy job. You’ll need to search through piles of scrap, fight off any creatures that come your way, and locate this specific piece of machinery. Are you all willing to take on this task? I’m offering 100 Rykens for every hour of searching. It’s dirty work, but if you’re up for it, the reward is yours.” He nodded towards Zeke again. "If yer wantin Taverns there's one two streets over..."

---

Mentions: Maverick Six Garbage. NeramoDJI Lunar Maxxob

 

[Maverick Six]

Pamela

Mentions: Lunar NeramoDJI Moonberry Garbage. Maxxob
Titles: Beast, Bunnykin, Mundane, Thieving Bandit, Wanted by Western Empire Adventurer's Guild

---

Huh. Maybe this won't be so boring after all.

At first, it didn't really click. The man may have had a salty smell and a sword, but she knew the sea to be a rough place. Many a merchant would wanna keep a seafaring sword ready to fend off a pirate. But she knew that look the salty man was giving her. It was one she had given many people in her time -- looking over your shoulder. Thinking everyone and everything is a threat. Acting as though the whole world would nark on you. Ironically, it wasn't his appearance or smell that tipped Pam off to his shady nature. It was the way he was looking at her.

"Somethin' on my face?" She asked him. "Or am I just that scary?" A smirk onto her face, as she playfully alluded to his concern over her.

Ears on her head turned to and fro -- keeping track of multiple sounds all at once. Ironically, Zeke only seemed to cue her deeper into the conversation. However, she was able to keep track of multiple sounds at once.

The whirring of gears within and microphone like quality of his voice confirmed the man's or perhaps more accurately, the thing's nature as a construct. Pam couldn't but lightly chuckle at his stated imperative. Serving humanity? How cheesy can you get? The way she saw it, there was no one's back worth watching than that of your buddies. Swearing allegiance to humanity was as silly as swearing it to a beast.

"Say, Pyotr, is it? You ever consider a career in customer service? How about as a waiter? I think you'd be great at that." She said, her faux compliment oozing with mockery evident to many with the twisting of her tone.

Just as she said that, another walked into the room. He looked well dressed and carried himself with an air of dignity and confidence. His clothes looked at bit shabby and his skin looked more leathery than one. Soon he began to list off his talents. For the most part, he said nothing of any interest until he said one word. "Kill."

Ugh. You're as subtle as a brick falling from a five story window.

The man's word choice elicited a subtle disgust. It was less the kind of moral indignance....more the kind of face someone made when they stepped in shit. There were many occupations that dealt with death. Guards, thieves, adventurers and mercenaries alike. The fact he chooses that word implied it was desired rather than a byproduct of the job. From that point on, she knew there was something "off" about Snare, albeit vaguely. She turned to look at him for a moment, a neutral expression on her face as she briefly scanned his form to actually remember his face.

For a moment, the short fluffy tail at the small of her back instinctively wagged. And then there was nothing.

Lastly, a man entered with a gun. And she couldn't help but wonder if she'd entered the right place. She was expecting a job fetching tools and stacking boxes -- but this guy showed up with an entire rifle on his back. He did however mention being a tinkerer and that checked out. He seemed the most well suited to be there. Despite his wolfish grin, Pam didn't have much to say about the gentleman fellow. He remained, in a way, the most enigmatic.

The man would begin to brief them and she listened intently from then on -- ears oriented mostly towards the man. While Pam couldn't claim to be a sciencey type, mage or mechanic, she could claim to be fairly decent at following instructions and remembering what was said. A lot of the things about the machine were simply, dumbed down. They guy wanted a rare machine that made steam. However, her ears perked at the sound of danger.

Alright!

This was getting better and better. While it was a dirty job, it beat stacking boxes in the middle of a sweaty storeroom. This was better than she expected! A hundred rykes was not bad beer and food money. Speaking of which, it seemed like the job linked to that man. He'd mentioned looking for a crew and finding a tavern to be the best spot.

Eyes looked down, as the young assistant offered gloves and an apron for what was to be a dirty job. That part didn't bother Pam too much. She was always willing to get at least a little dirty to get the job done. After all, she'd found innards on her clawed hands on more than one occasion. "Thanks kid." She noticed the girl staring at her ears. However, Pam didn't take any offense. On the contrary, it made her chuckle. "You like 'em?" She said, pointing them out. They were as white as an arctic hare, and blended in perfectly with her hair. "Pretty, aren't they?" With that hand -- she would pat Ellie on the head in exchange for the aprons. As she ran off to go play with the dragon falling out of Zeke's bag, prompting a raised brow towards the creature but not much more.

Ears flicked towards the creature again and she looked at it before confirming that it...talked.

The bunnykin removed the gloves she already had and exchanged them for the ones she had received. For a brief moment, one could see the claws with tipped all five of her fingers. Rather than sharp and hook like a cats, they seemed thick and tough -- being more evolved for digging and maintaining traction The flesh around her hands was almost a bit callused as a result of the increased roughness of that part of her body. This stood in start contrast to her fairly unblemished skin for a moment before said claws. But soon they were hidden away by the new pair of gloves she got.

"I'm in Mr. Gearwright. Only question I got is if you got a picture of what the..." She takes a moment to recall a part of the word "...Transmuter looks like. Can't say I've ever grabbed one of those before." She shrugged. The thing might have sounded complicated in nature -- but the quest seemed to amount to grabbing a certain item and killing whatever got in her way.

With that, she'd turn to the group.

"Tavern does sound nice but, I think we got a group right here. " She pointed to Zeke. "You got a sword.." She pointed to Nigel. "You got a gun." She pointed to Snare. "You say you kill very well." She pointed to Pyotr. "You...actually, maybe you can sit this one out? No shame in backing out." Her pointing hand turned into a gesturing one. And her tone turning towards that mockery once again.

"Wouldn't wanna get that suit of yours all scratched up by rats, would you? Hell, maybe you could get a job at the tavern! Serve us all a beer?" Pamela, her grin growing until it was ear to ear -- flashing her pearly white teeth.

---

Actions: 0/3

1.
2.
3.

 

[NeramoDJI]

Zeke “Mors” Valdain

​

Zeke heard the people discussing the temp job, before raising an eyebrow, thinking that may help for him to do as well. He hummed a bit, until his side satchel opened to reveal Stella rolling out lazily, the pirate chuckling a bit and leaning down to pick her up when she asked for food. "Oh come on, there's no way you finished all yer food already." He said, reaching into his bag and pulling out a small crunchy snack, offering it to her and petting her head. "Here lass, you can hold her, just keep your hands away from her eyes, it stresses her out." He said, gently handing off Stella to the girl while putting a snack in Stella's claws so she would be be happy.

While he originally wasn't intent on joining this little job, he figured it would be a good way to earn some cash. "I'd be interested in it aye? You sure you'd be willin to part with it after going through those lengths to get it?" He asked, since from what the man said it sounded like he was offering to put it in the ship.

When the rabbit woman told him that he wouldn't be needing to go to a tavern, he chuckled a bit. "Well, I'll need to be goin, just a matter of not quite yet. I figure I'll come along with you lot, might help with the expenses here." He said, before turning back to the Gearwright. "The parts will be here, I have em in a hidden spot." He said, giving a vagueish answer since those parts were insanely valuable, and he wasn't going to let just anyone know where they were.

He did take note of the subservient ones, the two in suits from what he could tell. The rabbit seemed not all that trustworthy, but he could keep people's at arms length. He learned that lesson the hard way. But the one who said he could kill well caught his attention, that could be used in his line of work.

"If none of ya die out there, I might have some further work for ya."

 

[SilverFeathers]

Raia (#4064c3)​

Character Sheet
Right Hand Claws E: 2/2
Left Hand Claws E: 2/2
Tail F: 1/1
Natural Armour F [Light]: 1/1
HP: 2/2​

Raia's finned ears idly waved as she took in the familiar hum of incessant machinery coating the city. The smell of smoke and soot filled her senses as her gaze roamed over the stiff patrolling movements of clockwork guards and bustling crowds of humans, fae and constructs alike. A couple of rare and luxurious steamwork supercars zoomed on by, accompanied by the chugging of the approaching train and the distant airships in the skies above.

Her clawed fist trembled slightly as she took it all in, before she clenched it firmly.

A new beginning, a new start. This was what she came here for.

Her vibrant blue appearance stood out starkly amidst the backdrop of brown, black and metallic hues as she moved forward. Though her appearance was a bit frightening, fae of all sorts roamed here so it was nothing too startling. It was not like the judging gazes and attention of others had ever bothered her anyway.

Inadvertently, her feet led her back to a location once familiar. No longer an abandoned playground for her and her childhood gang, what stood before her was now a bustling hangar and workshop that seemed quite busy and successful judging by the decor. Catching the tail end of the assumed owner's speech, it was only now Raia caught the sign that mentioned that the workshop was hiring temps.

"I hope you'd be fine with one more coming along? Better to be safe than sorry with something 'rare' and 'advanced', don't you think?" She smiled somewhat inexplicably as she stepped further inside, self-confidence subtly oozing from her tone. Though it wasn't her original intention in coming here, she certainly needed funds to return to some kind of life of normalcy.

Recalling the leporine woman listing out the group's weapons before she stepped in, she added amusedly, "Oh, and I also have weapons of my own right here." She stretched out her claws languidly before dropping them back to her side, taking a proper glance at all the individuals in the room.

There were many that looked pretty much 'human', the only one outwardly not being the lady with rabbit ears and a tail. Her features were a familiar sight that softened her expression whenever she looked at her, although she wouldn't let that alter her initial distaste for the woman considering she just stepped in to hear her ridiculing.

Moving on, as much as the baby dragon of the pirate was interesting, and the odd formally dressed individual currently being mocked, she couldn't help but focus on the workshop owner. Where had she seen him before? She had this weird sense of deja vu, as if she had seen or met him when he was working before, but in a completely different place and time. Her tail flickered lazily behind her as she stared at him, its aquatic fins rippling in time with her thoughts.

 

[Garbage.]

Snare
​

There were so many voices that arrived before, and after him. Each once unique, each one of interest, each one far more clear than he was used to. His eyesight was nothing to write home about in his previous life, but along with his emotions, it seemed human frailty had also been left behind. He could see the individual glinting scales of the latest creature that entered the menagerie; They nearly hurt his eyes they were so bright. He listened to the boss of this operation, known as Mr. Gearwright. His movements shambling him over to a darker corner where he took a rest; removing his shades and revealed pale white eyes without pupils. The irises like featureless moons.

He listened to the proposition and knew he was already going to take it; It sounded like an excellent hunting ground where he could learn more about this new body of his. Perhaps there were new ways for him to cultivate his grim artistry. His eyes monitoring each person as though he were taking stock of cuts of meat. The rabbit beast one he lingered on a second or two longer...only for another second or two to pass. His eyes trained on hers as he responded to Mr. GearWright

"I will accept this charge. Dirty work is something I'm quite...fond of."

 

[Maxxob]

Nigel Belmont

​

Equipped Titles: [Offworlder], [Human], [Big and Small Game Hunter] - Color - #735f0f

Moonberry Lunar NeramoDJI Maverick Six Garbage. SilverFeathers

Nigel stared, for a few moments, at the coveralls and gloves which the girl was handing to him. The grin and giggle made him raise a single eyebrow for a moment, grinning back to the little one in return, revealing that some of his pearly whites were actually made out of metal. Without much ceremony, the hunter propped his scoped rifle against a nearby table and loosened up his tie a bit. He would put on the coveralls over his hunting clothes, but not before fixing the retractable armor plating he wore to be on top of the coveralls themselves. While the extra layer would probably make him look quite a bit bulkier, he supposed it was a small price to pay to not dirty his clothes with anything that wasn't blood.

Next, he put on the gloves that had been offered, making sure to adjust them enough to feel the tip of his fingers touching the endings of the fabric. Afterward, he grabbed the scoped rifle once more, aiming at the ceiling and trying to get a 'feel' of how it was to try and use it with the gloves. And he didn't like it... he didn't like it one bit. He would rather feel his naked hands against the metal and wood of the Springfield rifle, the fabric now his digits and the armament almost feeling like it dulled it a bit... simply horrible. But he would bear it.

"Pretty, aren't they?"

Nigel listened as the rabbit humanoid talked with the little girl, giving Pamela the side-eye. Indeed, the hunter internally agreed they were quite exotic, even more so if they were displayed behind a glassed trophy stand. He couldn't help but let out a chuckle at the thought, the desire for prey burning brightly, even when the more primal instincts were put aside for the sake of a common goal. And yet, his attention was drawn towards two others who also ended up catching his attention just as the overgrown rabbit.

The first being a small lizard, which was revealed from the insides of the pirate's, Zeke, satchel. Not only that, it talked. Nigel didn't much care about the sentience which the being might or might not have, but its exquisiteness was something to behold. Having no idea of what it was, the hunter thought to himself if the creature would grow eventually or if that was its adult size. While there could be a rush for hunting the small one, a bigger one would be more... interesting.

And the next one was the aquatic looking creature, Raia, that had just stepped into the workshop. For obvious reasons, Nigel had never had opportunities to go after the creatures of the sea: he was a hunter, not a fisherman. Yet there it was, just in front of him, a creature of the sea that could walk upon land! He had barely scrapped the surface of what this new world had to offer, but he knew he ought to bring his taxidermy skills up to speed. Spoiling good trophies left a bad taste in his mouth.

"A salvage job and the danger of unknown hunters... or should I say unknown preys. Quite the jolly endeavor, I must say." He said in a rather amused fashion, holding the rifle horizontally against his chest with both hands, keeping his trained index away from the trigger for now. "I accept the job as well." He confirmed his participation on it, finally, albeit the fact he had already put on the coveralls could say that much. He then turned towards the rabbit woman, Pamela, which was teasing and mocking one of the well-dressed fellow, Pyotr. "Maybe the gentleman won't need to fight, yes? After all, if we all spend our time hunting, no one will be salvaging. Albeit, the tavern does sound quite appealing after this job... maybe I will finally find some decent scotch that matches his dreary weather." While his eyes narrowed when mentioning hunting, his expression changed to one of mild annoyance when mentioning the weather, sniffing slightly as his nose twitched from side to side, his moustache following suit.

 

[Lunar]

[AUDIBLE VERSION]
​

The Masterless Servant

Pyotr Vitaliy

🌣🌣🌣🌣🌣🌣🌣🌣🌣🌣

Titles: [Construct] [Living Doll] [Butler]

Equipment: A: Padded Light Frock (F) W: Corneille Cane (Melee) (F)

Widersia / Clockhaven (Capital) | Actions: 1/3

Chapter 3: The Job

Everything was happening so fast, Pyotr scarcely had time to analyze the new faces before they were all being offered a job. The Hydropneumatic Transmuter doesn't sound like any part he had installed inside himself; no, this 'thing' was more complex. This wasn't exactly the "Gainful Employment" Pyotr had in mind, but it would have to do for now.

The Beast, who spoke seemingly all too much, motioned down the row of faces until her hand fell onto Pyotr. "You...actually, maybe you can sit this one out? There's no shame in backing out." He sensed mockery in her voice, and deep inside himself, he felt a twinge of something that could faintly resemble irritation, but the loud voice in his head that he would, for convenience's sake, dub 'Servito' pushed the unnatural sensation back down.

"Wouldn't wanna get that suit of yours all scratched up by rats, would you? Hell, maybe you could get a job at the tavern! Serve us all a beer?" The mockery continued. "Well, yes, that would be quite unfort---" He began to say before Nigel cut in. "Maybe the gentleman won't need to fight, yes? After all, if we all spend our time hunting, no one will be salvaging. Albeit, the tavern does sound quite appealing after this job... maybe I will finally find some decent scotch that matches his dreary weather."

Pyotr sighed and let the rest continue before finally attempting to put their minds at ease. "I appreciate all of your concerns and opinions," He let out a slight hiss on the 's' of 'opinions,' "but I assure you I am more than capable of handling myself in combat scenarios." With this statement, he splayed open his gloved fingers, revealing a thin, sharp wire connected between each digit. With a small concentration of energy, small blue sparks shot through the wire, nothing too powerful, just enough to prove some amount of capability.

With that, the construct straightened his tie and began to recompose himself. He nodded towards Gearwright in acknowledgment, "Yes, I will assume the risks and serve."

Mentions

Moonberry Maverick Six NeramoDJI Garbage. Maxxob SilverFeathers

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Isekai Hell

CODE /

SEROBLISS

 

[Garbage.]

Snare​

There were many participants in this game of work, and while he had been familiar with the concept. He had learned early he had a talent for slaying, and found that to be the only worthwhile profession to pursue. It was much different in the world he found himself in; There wasn't one uniform quality to any of these people. There didn't seem to be a consideration for anyone's singular talents or pitffalls. The monster thinking as his attention turned from Pamela and toward the machine.

The thoughts in his head like gears that worked calmly and without the irreverent nerves of raw emotion; He quite enjoyed the cold sensation it brought his skin. His body reacting to the chewing his hungering mind was doing amidst much information. he had already agreed to the job and the other hunter also agreed. He looked like a big game hunter; remembering seeing the likes of him on tv in Snare's earliest memories. He would be someone Snare kept an eye, intent on picking his brain on hunting techniques later.

His immediate interest was the well dressed butler who gave an auspicious outburst toward the not so subtle negging from the beast. Snare's ideals twisted, but resolute as he still recognized worth and respect. "What he lacks in presence, he makes up for in...potential" The final word dripping around his slavering lips as though it were the most delicious meal

"I, for one, look forward to seeing what you can do...Pyotr" Snare said, cracking the first smile anyone's seen him make since he entered the warehouse; those hollow moon-like pupils peering into Pyotr, as though he were assessing something unspoken. Snare's words were genuine, and that was what likely made them a concern for the machine.

Moonberry Lunar

 

[Moonberry]

Ⓣⓗⓔ Ⓙⓞⓑ​

Ellie, who had been watching with wide eyes, giggled and nodded enthusiastically. “Mhm! They're so fluffy!” she exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over.

Mr. Gearwright looked up from the schematics Zeke had laid out, his gaze shifting to Pamela. "The Hydropneumatic Transmuter is a unique piece of machinery," he began, his voice thoughtful. "It's a cylindrical device, about the size of a barrel, with intricate valves and gauges. You might find it housed within larger machines designed for industrial water-to-steam conversion."

He reached behind his ear, pulling out a well-worn pen, and grabbed a piece of scrap paper from the cluttered table. With deft strokes, he began sketching the device, his hand moving with the precision of a seasoned craftsman. As the image took shape, he held it up for all to see. "It'll look something like this." As he bent over the desk to start sketching, Ellie exclaimed excitedly as Stella was handed over to her. The little dragon Cooed happily, nibbling on the food that her Papa had given her. Ellie reached up and stroked the purple scales of the little creature, and Stella shook her body, giggling slightly.

"Stahp Stahp that tickles ! " She wiggled in the girls arms, to Ellies delight. The two were quickly bonding and playing together.

Mr. Gearwright watched the exchange with a hint of hesitance, then turned back to Zeke. "I won't be parting with it for free. If you want me to build this ship, you'll need to pay for any parts you don't provide, as well as the labor." He tapped the schematics thoughtfully. "These plans have several errors that need adjusting, even at a first glance. Airship crafting is still new, and the process is rapidly evolving."

He paused, then added, "I do have a need to craft an impressive ship, though. There's a competition coming up for new vessels. If you want a discount, you'll need to find double the amount of the parts listed."

Mr. Gearwright began sketching four other crucial components on more pieces of scrap paper, explaining as he went. "You'll need a Floatation Stabilizer, which looks like this," he said, drawing a round, buoy-like device with fins. "Next, a Steam Propulsion Engine, a bulky contraption with multiple pistons and steam vents." He moved on to say and draw a "Wing Frame Extender," a skeletal structure designed to support large, retractable wings. "And finally, an Atmospheric Pressure Regulator, a complex array of dials and tubes designed to maintain internal pressure."

He handed the sketches to Pamela. "These parts will likely be found in old machinery used for large-scale industrial work. Things used to turn water into steam. Cleaning devices." He paused again and looked to each of the members that had arrived. " Same goes for you lot. Ye' find double the amount listed here Ah'll pay ya'll double since ye'r not tryn'a buy labor from me too. " He looked over at Stella and Ellie, who was giggling slightly. "You'll follow this street all the way down to the docks. Should find a gate keeper there. Don't cost nothing to go in and scrap. Just be on your guard."

---

Mentions: NeramoDJI Lunar Maverick Six Maxxob SilverFeathers Garbage.​

 

[Maverick Six]

Pamela

Mentions: Lunar NeramoDJI Moonberry Garbage. Maxxob SilverFeathers
Titles: Beast, Bunnykin, Mundane, Thieving Bandit, Wanted by Western Empire Adventurer's Guild

---

The scribbling of a pencil was heard as Gearwright took time to make a picture for them. For a moment, it gave time for other things.

Beneath the veneer of mockery and hazing, the Bunnykin's eyes were inspecting the machine shaped like a man carefully for response or lack there of. Often times when you made fun of someone, they could respond in any number of ways. A twitch in the eye. A crease of the brows. Or very evident displays of overall anger. In concerns to this construct, she wondered if he even was socially aware enough to detect that she was in fact, mocking him.

The land in which she hailed from was one crueler than one might think. It was one that had little room for those who were lacking, be it in being too weak, too slow, too stupid, or too incompetent. Her previous life and arguably the one she lead now was survival of the fittest. And she had been there when Pyotr had been struggling to spit out even a word before even the pirate came along. If he froze up here just talking to someone, how was he going to do in the field?

She crossed her arms with a rather large, shit-eating grin still plastered all over her face. What she was doing had almost gone over his head, but then he later proceeded with a demonstration: Wires came out of his hand, dancing with electricity. Contrary to what one might expect, Pamela's devious grin turned into one calmer and more content. Like someone who'd gotten exactly what they wanted. Her expression turned slightly more smug at the word "opinions." Some of his irritation was bleeding through, there.

"Alright, alright." She said, a hint of acknowledgment heard in her voice. "Let's see how you do later." Her assessment was incomplete after all. There wasn't really very much to say until then.

With that, her eyes Pamela's attention shifted somewhere else. Despite what the newcomer actually was, to Pam she was just another Beastkin of some type. Though she couldn't claim to have ever met of an aquatic kind. While perplexing to some, it was slightly comforting to see someone who looked more out of place. The proud display of natural weaponry told Pam that this one was aware and ready to fight.

"Nice." She said, inspecting the claws shown. "Hope ya keep 'em sharp." It seemed she wasn't the only one inspecting features. There was the creepy guy earlier. But added to that, it seemed that the guy with the gun took a liking to her ears. He chuckled a bit and she wasn't sure how to take that. She passed it off as just her charm and sense of humor.

Gearwright's explanation continued, and her mind sifted through it. Partway through however, Pam scratched her head, raising an eyebrow as the man began to casually what amounted to various bits of technobabble to her. Yet accustomed to taking orders and following instructions, Pam dumbed down his explanations into something she could understand. Ears began to flop expressively into deeper thought.

"...Stabilizer....Engine.....Re-Regulator." She listed quietly to herself. Her brain juices were going into overdrive trying to understand something she knew nearly nothing about, but she managed to at least glean the names of the additional things that he wanted. "Sounds heavy." She did catch the word "barrel sized." Now she just needed the pictures. As she received them, she looked them over upside down for a second to get a basic idea of what she was looking for...then she folded it up and placed it in a pouch on her hip.

Ears perked at the words "double pay." Her eyes would have practically turned into dollar signs or gold if they could.

"Alright! Sounds real good Mr. Gearwright. Just leave it to us!" She says at the conclusion of his speech. With that, she'd turn and walk off perhaps a bit too eagerly.

The city air kissed her face once again. The smell of grease and oils had decreased, albeit only slightly. The smell of this city would take some getting used to, particularly when she was accustomed to much cleaner airs. With her eyes looking down the direction of the junkyard, she would start down it with newfound allies. Though how long they'd be her allies remained a bit uncertain. While she was the first off, she preferred to keep pace with everyone else. It was better that she be able to see all of them.

"I dunno about all of you but I'd really like to try to get everything. Call me a bit of a perfectionist. Oh. That reminds me."

She pointed a gloved thumb at herself.

"Name's Pamela, by the way. Most folk call me Pam." She said, introducing herself casually. Her eyes would scan the group, with no desire to miss anyone's name. Everyone here stood out to her in a way. Some for better, and some for worse.

 

[SilverFeathers]

Raia (#4064c3)​

Character Sheet
Right Hand Claws E: 2/2
Left Hand Claws E: 2/2
Tail F: 1/1
Natural Armour F [Light]: 1/1
HP: 2/2​

It was nice to see that their elegant companion had some semblance of dignity, cutting in as the other two unabashedly discussed his use. The electric reveal that he was something not quite human either was quite intriguing, though then again, construct-like features had always been a dime a dozen in Widersia. Noticing perhaps the most suspicious of the group paying Pyotr great attention however, she left the two be, turning her attention back to the workshop owner.

Though Raia had once salvaged for a living, she had never had a proper education, and was assuredly overwhelmed by the man's incessant use of technical terms and mechanical vocabulary. Fortunately, as he began sketching she felt more reassured by her memories. "I've salvaged this ball before. And that engine too. We'll be fine." She commented idly, peering deeply at the drawings for any semblance of familiarity before they were passed over to the rabbit lady. Though she never knew what they were for back then, she notably remembered the hefty bag of gold she got for selling them.

The mention of double pay was also exciting, though she mused that it'd depend on how lucky they were. Some days were good, some days were bad, that's just how salvaging always was. Competitive, too. Musing to herself as she followed after the rabbit, subconsciously placing her as the leader of the group, it took a moment for her to register her introduction.

"Pam, huh? Cute. I'm Raia." She greeted languidly with a casual wave of her claws, her gaze lingering on the other woman's fluffier features before turning her ear fins attentively toward the others.

 

[Maxxob]

Nigel Belmont

​

Equipped Titles: [Offworlder], [Human], [Big and Small Game Hunter] - Color - #735f0f

Moonberry Lunar NeramoDJI Maverick Six Garbage. SilverFeathers

Nigel observed with interest as the previously silent man finally answered to the rabbit's mocking remarks. Not only with words, but also with actions. Oh great, he is a well-dressed tug who uses piano wires to strange others. Where the more civilized ways to take out someone have gone? The hunter thought to himself as he saw the wires which connected the man, or better said thing's fingers, at first. However, when he saw the blue sparks being produced on the wires, one of his eyebrows were raised, followed by a grin that tugged the corners of his mouth. "Potential it is. Good on you, old chap." The hunter said, shifting his gaze towards the man with the hollow moon-like pupils, who had first used the word 'potential', before going back to the butler himself.

Next, the Englishman would listen, with keen attention, to the parts which were being mentioned. Each of them appeared to be more elusive than the other. None of them tugged his memory to any of the parts of military jeeps which he ended up fiddling with it, be it of English or German make, in the past. He did however take a small notebook out of the breast-pocket of his hunting jacket, which came together with a pencil. Flipping it open, after going through many pages that have been fully scribbled on, he began writing down the names of each of the parts, in turn: Hydropneumatic Transmuter, Floatation Stabilizer, Steam Propulsion Engine and Atmospheric Pressure Regulator. While the names, by themselves, had little value, he decided to write them down.

Thankfully, they have received sketches, which were now in the bunny's possession. And, with the job being laid out to the group, as well the possibility of double pay, Nigel said to the owner of the establishment. "The pieces shall be in your possession before long." His tone was very confident, eyes narrowing slightly, before turning on his heel and starting to walk off, following the rabbit's cue. Each step was marked by the hitting of the heels against the pavement, as the hunter wasn't really masking his presence at the moment. "I also shoot for the bigger prizes myself. Finding every equipment would make this even more... profitable, yes?" Nigel said in contrast, as the bunny branded herself a perfectionist. "Pamela and Raia..." He repeated as if trying to commit them to memory. "... a pleasure making all of your acquaintances. I am Nigel." He said, not only for the two who had introduced themselves already, but also the rest of the group, his gaze now sweeping down each of them from a closer range.

 

[Maverick Six]

Pamela

Mentions: Lunar NeramoDJI Moonberry Garbage. Maxxob SilverFeathers
Titles: Beast, Bunnykin, Mundane, Thieving Bandit, Wanted by Western Empire Adventurer's Guild

---

"I've salvaged this ball before. And that engine too. We'll be fine."

"Didja now?" She said, the blue fish beat drawing more of Pam's attention. "Good to have you around, then. The more eyes can recognize." It lightened the load on her mind a bit that she wasn't going to necessarily need to.

Pam noticed the sea lady trailing closely. She seemed friendly enough if not a little slow on the uptake. Though she made up for that with calling Pam's name cute.

"Aw shucks." Clearly, she did like the compliment. Her face brightened naturally at receiving the praise and she beamed merrily at Raia. She almost forgot that Raia was a stranger. It was good to know all of them but she wasn't exactly sure as to how much of herself she should let this crowd know of her. By default, she felt like not saying too much. Though that was no reason to be unfriendly to everyone. Just maybe a few of them. "Raia's a cool name too. Rolls off the tongue." She said.

"Shoot for prizes." Ha! What are you? My dad?" With a moment, she reaches out with her hand for him to shake, before he has a chance to get too offended.

"Nice to meet ya, Nigel." This man had remained somewhat of an enigma to her. "Say you said you're a tinkerer yourself yeah? Maybe you should hold onto this." Pam reached into her pockets and pulled out the paper. She held it out to him in an offer. While the man was fairly enigmatic, he did seem ambitious enough to follow through fully.

"I'd hand it to you Raia but uh, I don't know if you...have any pockets." She looked her up and down. Perhaps she did but Pam didn't look too deeply.

---

Actions: 1/3

1. Other - Pamela offers Nigel the engineering sketches
2.
3.

 

[Garbage.]

Snare​

He had accepted the job without needing much of the details, but it was good to have them regardless. The techno jargon was harsh on the complexity, but it wasn't anything he could wing and nail with some persistence. A two pronged approach of salvaging and slaying sounded rather simple, finding the idea of kills more savory than the double pay. He doubted there would be many places he could spend it outside this region.

There were all sorts of ways they could identify him here; magic capable of stripping away precious secrets if he was too cavalier in where he traveled. It was a challenging new world, and he was all to excited to test it's limits, but he needed to haul scrap and murder his own kin. Were they kin? Monsters were as varied as the human breeds were, and while he never felt human in his old life. This was something else entirely.

It was time to get to work.

His body rising with ease, though it sounded quite the opposite. A grinding of steel emanating from his body as it was in movement. It didn't seem to impede his lumbering as he continued to sway out of the building, and toward the scrapyard. His interest still lingering on Pyotr, but he wanted to talk with another professional first. It had been some time since he encountered one of Nigel's talents. He always did get along with their kind.

Snare slowed his pace to keep in stride with Nigel's; the sound of metallic tension slowing in sound akin to one's joints settling as he looked to Nigel with cat-like bemusement "You have the look of a...Hunter; I did not thing...guns existed here" He said, looking at Nigel's firearm curiously. He, in return, extended a hand and revealed roiling barbs of metal underneath his leathery skin.

"I have been...blessed with a body, that is also a weapon. I decided to name myself after this new power...I am Snare" An unexpected amount of joy flaring behind his eyes.

Maxxob

 

[Maxxob]

Nigel Belmont

​

Equipped Titles: [Offworlder], [Human], [Big and Small Game Hunter] - Color - #735f0f

Moonberry Lunar NeramoDJI Maverick Six Garbage. SilverFeathers

Pamela's teasing remark certainly caught Nigel off-guard. Not exactly in an insulting way, but in genuine confusion. For his offspring to be like her, would he need to mate with a rabbit? A giant rabbit? Or a humanoid one like her? Any of the options seemed extremely distasteful, preposterous even. What was next? Suggest him to mingle with natives from the colonies? Hah! The hunter's eyes locked on her extended hand. That was certainly a very unusual way for a woman to greet a man, improper even. Such a travesty, greeting a gentleman like that. Traditions be damned, I suppose. Without further ado, Nigel's fingers clasped around Pamela's hand, giving her a firm handshake. "I have always been quite active and did father a boy. Can't rule the possibility out, I suppose." He went along with her joke, the corners of his lips curling upwards slightly, his mustache following suit.

Releasing her hand, his attention was next drawn towards parchments that Pamela offered him. He reached out, accepting them and safely storing into his breast pocket. "Oh yes, either one learns to do maintenance in their own equipment or they will be in quite a pickle deep into enemies lines. Learning it was more of a necessity rather than an option." He tried to keep his explanation on this skill as short as possible, despite not being something easy to do. When it was the right time, he would check the parchments to identify the pieces of equipment they had to retrieve.

Nigel's head slowly turned as someone else addressed him: the man with the moon-like pupils. The hunter's gaze was one of curiosity, appraisal, looking at him from head to toe. The Englishman's eyes narrowed as he took sight of the metallic barbs beneath skin, truly the sight of a predator that didn't need auxiliary tools, like Nigel, himself, needed. "That is quite the curious gift, most certainly. Has the knowledge of how to use it came naturally to you?" The hunter asked, being curious about Snare's situation. Could a lion learn how to be one without the aid of its parents? That question had tugged his mind as some point. Maybe this man's answer could share some light on it.

"Apologies chap, going back to your deduction, you are correct. I have been hunting for quite a bit of time, have gone to many different safaris: each more exquisite than the previous. Lions, tigers, rhinoceros, elephants, giraffes, hippopotamus and bears." He began, his tone getting quite prideful as he mentioned the creatures which were already fallen under his scope. "It does get slightly boring after a while, there is only so much challenge animals can provide, after all." Giving a hearty chuckle, he got the rifle from his shoulder, holding it with both hands, displaying it. "This is a Springfield M1903, quite a good invention from the boys across the sea. I have tinkered with it quite a bit to make it more of my liking. It has been quite the good companion, I must say" He smiled, flashing a smile which revealed a few golden teeth among the pearly whites.

 

[SilverFeathers]

Raia (#4064c3)​

Character Sheet
Right Hand Claws E: 2/2
Left Hand Claws E: 2/2
Tail F: 1/1
Natural Armour F [Light]: 1/1
HP: 2/2​

"Yeah, it's been quite a few years though, so don't trust me too much." Raia warned casually in response to Pamela's praise. The city had changed so much in six years, it was probably better not to assume her past skills would completely hold up.

The rabbit lady's sudden bright smile briefly dazzled her, Raia's initial remark about her name spoken somewhat distractedly and off-hand. Still, after a moment of processing she smiled back, suppressing the itch to pat her head like she would've once done to her old gang. "Thanks, I thought so too. That's why I chose it." She added lightly, before Pamela moved to hand Nigel the sketches.

"Good call, I don't." She chuckled in regard to her lack of pockets, or clothing for that matter. "When I get paid I'll probably try and commission a tailor to make me something I can actually wear." She commented thoughtfully, idly playing with the rug she had randomly picked up, cleaned and wrapped around her waist, securing it beneath the irregular pieces of her exoskeleton.

"Nice to meet you too Nigel. And nice gun. Can't say I've seen one quite like it before." She mused as she turned to the gruff-looking human, thinking it looked somewhat different than the other few guns she had seen around Clockhaven in the past. She was no gun expert, but its make and design just looked very... different. Though like before, she may just be outdated with the current technologies. Still, it was pretty cool to see.

Snare's every movement couldn't help but catch Raia's eye, being subconsciously acutely aware of his presence as he seemed to change targets from Pyotr to Nigel. The dangerous air he gave off was just too noticeable, and she was not able to let anything he may try slip by her senses. Still, he didn't seem to currently mean any of them harm, so she tried not to prejudice against him too much.

"You named yourself too huh? Interesting." Raia smiled funnily at the revelation of Snare's name, though she supposed she should've expected nothing less from such an eccentric figure. The reasoning behind his was much more... outlandish than hers, however.

Leaving Nigel and Snare to their chatter, Raia kept pace with Pamela at the front, turning her attention back to the rabbit lady after she had gathered everyones' names. "Say Pam, where you from? Can't say I've seen too many beastkin in my lifetime." She began curiously, idly pondering about the world outside of Widersia, and just Clockhaven, she had yet to really explore.