The Rejected Gear

[Alexander Baker]

 

A place for those who feel outcast or forgotten by the steampunk community or in life. Grab a chair, have a drink, and have a jolly good time with jolly good company. There are people in the world who suck and this is an escape.

The underground life isn't for all be we are out there.

 

My name is Alex ,the owner, and I'll be your bartender

Along with Ara, the other bartender

 

And Simon, the Demon King Monkey!

Welcome to the world of steampunk, and If you are new we will gladly help you with anything you need. And check us out for whiskey Wednesday's, where whiskey is free.

 

                         ********IMPORTANT********

There is an underlying story and/or parts there of, that is followed from the Airship Alicia Grey and The Airship Battle Royale. It is not the main focus of the Gear, but It does happen from time to time. The events are scripted at first, but remember your input changes the script. 

This role-play bar, is a light hearted dose of fun. It has its serious moments but the Spirit of the Gear is about comradery, having some drinks, and experiencing everything and anything. The more veteran gear posters will help out the newer Gear Goers with any questions, or ideas.

The gear is designed to help develop your characters if you would like. Feel free to message T.R. Harrison, Arabella Porter, or myself, if you have any questions.

 

 

WARNING: HAS BEEN KNOWN TO CAUSE: LAUGHING, GOOD COMPANY, AND ALL AROUND FUN!!!

 

Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Rejected-Gear/116007448555003

We have a skype room:

[Currently Under Renovation]

World's End(The underground of the RG)

DISCLAIMER: Chat is unfiltered and uncensored, join at your own risk and if you have an issue with it you do not have to participate. This is a back room off welcome. The rejected gear and all afiliated persons are not accountable for the skype chatroom.

 

[Valarian H. Vol]

I used to know that feeling.  Love...Was a wonderful thing.  Till it goes away.  Then all you're left with is emptiness.  Take this opportunity.  Meet a love, new or old.  Don't end up like me...

[Lady Brielle Serra]

She looks to the newcomer. "It is never too late for love. Don't count yourself out, yet." She smiles sweetly. "This place is full of surprises!"

[Oswin Bernerd McGuinness]

*Chuckling and reaching and grabbing a new glass and McCallan, pouring it* To say the least..

[Lady Brielle Serra]

She bites her lip to keep from giggling. "More than one couple has resulted after their lucky entrance through these doors...and they certainly do not live as boring married couples. Far too many adventures." She smirks, pouring herself some more wine.

[Valarian H. Vol]

*sm

[Oswin Bernerd McGuinness]

*Smiling* Need to keep things exciting somehow. *Yawning* I might have to call it a night soon, it has been a long day..

[Lady Brielle Serra]

Brielle yawns and looks to the clock. "You are right, Oswin...I best sneak into bed...don't want to wake Felix if he managed to fall asleep..." She heads to her room and very quietly opens the door, steps inside and closes it silently behind her.

[Wilhelm A. Heizeltroff]

Wil smiles at Tim and Brielle and nods. "You aren't the only ones who suspect she may well be Annabelle. Something in me... Some how I feel connected to her. It's not just her face or voice. It's something inside. I felt.... comfortable with her. That is a rare thing for me."

He moves to his regular chair and settles into it, looking at the chair to his right that has remained empty since the last time they sat together. "Time will tell us all the truth."

[Oswin Bernerd McGuinness]

*Standing up and putting on his goggles, coat and hat* I should probably leave as well *checking the coordinates on his right wrist and inputting them on the left* Gents, it's been a hell of a day. I will see you guys soon *Flipping a small lever, the are begins to agitate and spin, static sparks in the air, quickly increasing in intensity with a loud hum, there is a blinding flash and a thunder crack and all that is left in his place is a small plum of vaper*

[Arabella Porter]

At midnight, when everyone's gone to bed, Ara wears her apron and sits at the bar, staring towards the stairway. She holds her wound and sighs.  Who are the Prestons? She wonders and then laughs to herself about the night.

   "I come back to an argument, a newcomer, and what could be a reunion. Maybe I should have settled everything before I came home." She says to herself and takes her hand off the wound when she stands to get the scrub brush and bucket from the back room. She looks at Yitzack Hadaad and frowns, stepping o his cold dead chest. "You're an arrogant son of a bitch, you know that?" She told him and filled the bucket with warm water and soap. She grabbed the scrub brush off the shelf and walked out onto the wooden floor of the bar, getting on her hands and knees and starting to scrub.

  At one o'clock in the morning,  Ara stood up and looked at the clean floor. She took the scrub brush to the back and exchanged it for a sponge, taking it and dunking it in the bucket before scrubbing the counter down with it. 

  At one thirty she thought she heard a familiar whisper and then five minutes later, she could have sworn there was a familiar figure sitting cross legged next to the empty fire place. 

          "You're tired, Bells, sit your arse down, yeah." She laughed, impersonating an old friend. my eyes are just playing tricks on me from fatigue.

 At two in the morning, Ara sat on a clean bar counter with a glass of vin rouge and thought more about the Lady Abigail Preston. She thought about her argument with Tim...Oswin.

  "He wouldn't have kicked me if I didn't try to hide it." She shook her head. "ok, so maybe I was a bit....stubborn." She rolled her eyes, "Well, I wasn't dying."

    "Cause that's gonna stop 'im worryin'. If it was him who came through the door bloody battered, what would you have done?" Ara jumped and spun around, her wine crashing to the floor. There was no one; no one at all and she had heard his voice clear as day. Ara pulled her arms into her, left her bags downstairs and rushed upstairs, freaked out.

  In the corner of the Rejected Gear, a ghost smirked to himself and faded away, possibly never to return.

[Captain Silver SteamAether]

*steps into the deserted bar looking around, notices the smashed glass and walks to it clearing the glass of the floor hissing steam softly as she worked. Walking around the counter the swept up and mopped up the remaining mess.

She grabbed a mug getting a draft of tapped beer sitting down and taking a drink surveying the room, she turned the same angle that the glass had broke and stared at the vacant table in the back* something is goin on and I don't like one bit of it

*she hissed taking another large drink, she turned and faced the wall behind the counter pulling out a notebook and began to write*

[Captain Lachlan Bellraven]

*Walking in through the doors from the street* Well hello there Captain, guess everyone else has business elsewhere at the moment* strolls casually behind the bar and removes a rather expensive bottle * Shall we drink to each others health?