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.

 

[J. Deacon Monroe]

slowly lifting his head, a puff of smoke rises from the faint embers in the bowl of an ornate pipe. A low hum emits from an elaborate optical piece as a freckled woman comes into focus. He calls out from an overstuffed leather chair tucked in the corner.

"Greetings m'lady, truly a sight for sore eyes, or eye in my matter. What brings you out on such a damp, dreary night?"

[Arabella Porter]

She jumps and gasps, spinning around and finally letting out a soft sigh of relief through the exhales of laughter.  "forgive me, sir, you surprised me. I actually just came in because I just got off my boat from New York and don't really know where I am. I don't suppose there are cabs at this hour? It's later than they said it would be." She explained, tucking a wet strand of hair behind her ear. "Are we near Kensington at all?" 

[J. Deacon Monroe]

"My apologies", as he removes his hat and bows his head.

"I certainly did not mean to startle you. It has been so quiet here, and it was refreshing to see you walk through that door!" a broad and genuine smile appears on his face.

"It is quite the coincidence, I arrived from New York myself a few weeks ago after visiting to gather the last of my personal belongings. Unfortunately your assumption is correct. There are no cabs this late at night. Hence, I have hunkered down here next to the fire. Luckily for you we are near Kensington."

"Come over here and dry yourself off" he motions toward the fireplace

[Arabella Porter]

"Are you really?" she lights up  and curtsies before gliding toward the fire place. "And thank you, it is rather cold out for a summer rain." She chuckles, extending her hands out toward the fire. "so we are near Kensington? Thank goodness. This creepy neighborhood seemed extensive! Oh, do forgive me if this is where you've settled in the past few weeks. I mean no offense. Pray tell, where are you from in New York?"  She rubbed her hands and netted them together as she sat down in a wooden rocking chair near him. 

[J. Deacon Monroe]

He sets down his pipe and leans forward, finally happy to engage in delightful conversation. "Absolutely no offense taken. I certainly can see how this neighborhood is not enticing to most, but the dark seclusive seems to call to me." his shoulders slightly raise and his eyes shift from side to side.

"I am originally from the South, but after the war I wound up very far North and very much in the center of the great state of New York. I was most happy with my life at the time but business called and I found myself aboard the first available steamship to take me across the pond"

[Sgt. Ian MacBrooke]

The sounds of a blustery early evening coming from outside precedes the unexpected fumbling and heavy swearing following it as the door flies open and in blows a tumbleweed-like bundle of flailing arms and legs bedecked in a Sears-Robuck plaid suit. Homburg aslant upon it's head, the figure succeeds at closing the door against the weather outside and turns around to present a young carrot-topped man breathing deeply and swearing up a storm. "Blasted fraggin' tottle-twot! That weather bloke deserves a beating. Sunny my arse."

[Arabella Porter]

"You're a confederate?!" The woman gasped through a whisper. "I grew up in Saratoga Springs. My brother fought for the Union! But what busi-" She jumped again when the door swung open to reveal the swearing man who had just entered. "My goodness, sir! Are you quite alright?" She asked him, standing promptly with her hands clasped together in front of her her torso.

[Sgt. Ian MacBrooke]

Wide-eyed gaze sweeping the room, his eyes catch hold of a paper of his or rather his Uncle MacBrooke's as he is not currently a vampire hunter. "Now how the blast---, he comes up short suddenly realising there is a lady present. "Pardon me, I'm such bumblehead," he rambles out while trying to reacquire his Uncle's creds while he takes off his hat.

[J. Deacon Monroe]

"Yes, born and raised on the shores of North Carolina. But was captured, tortured, and brought to the North to take advantage of my skills." He stares into the fire, his past rolling through his mind.

All of a sudden a man entered and everyone rises.

"Well good evening sir!"

[Sgt. Ian MacBrooke]

"Good evening sir. Now . . . there it is.

[Arabella Porter]

"Oh, not at all, sir." She curtsies. "This gentleman, whose name escapes me, and I were discussing our experiences with the war back in our home country." She explains. "Would you care to join us? Perhaps keep warm by the fire?" 

[Sgt. Ian MacBrooke]

"Really, I must be going. My Uncle is on the 'currently not available list' and before he disappeared, he left a few of his things behind and I REALLY don't want to be on his bad side these days.", the young man stammered breathlessly.