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 walking in, Deacon gazes around at the unfamiliar surroundings. Across the room he spies an old friend, one that he has not seen in a very long time. Taking a long draw on the glowing stub oh his cigar, Deacon makes his way toward a table currently occupied by this old friend. The heels of his brogans make a distinct click with each step as he closes the distance to the table. He pulls the cigar from his mouth, the purple haze rising slowly around his face. With a small, almost unnoticeable laugh, he looks intently at the man*

Hello Wil, long time.

[Wilhelm A. Heizeltroff]

Wil looks up at the man. For a moment he doesn't recognize him then it dawns on him. He practically leaps from his seat, the cane in his hand helping launch him upward. "Deacon! Deacon Monroe! Dear gods what brings you around here?!"

He grips the man's hand with a broad smile and shakes it firmly. "I'm shocked to find you here in the Gear of all places but then I shouldn't be. Please sit down. You must tell me what you've been up to."

He pushes out the second chair of his table with his cane before taking his own seat again. "Gods it's been how long now? Since a month after that damnable war ended." He winks at him with a grin. "Your upgrades are still functioning correctly I hope. I always speculated those serums would work for the long term."

[J. Deacon Monroe]

*He takes the back of the chair and takes a seat across from Wil. He taps on the ocular prominently protruding from his right eye socket, and grins*

Holding up just fine. Functioning as well as the day it was installed.

*He sighs, and brings his friends attention from his eye to his hand*

Though I cannot say the same about my hand. Took a stray shot and it hasn't worked the same since. I knew of no one else that could fix it but you.

[Wilhelm A. Heizeltroff]

I'm no medical doctor but I may be able to work out something. What exactly is the problem with it? Shaking or just not quite as quick on the trigger draw?"  He looks at the hand closely before pulling out a clip with several colored lenses on it.

Setting the clip on his spectacles he moves one lens then another over his eye while inspecting his friend's hand. After a minute or so he gets a wide grin. "I've got it. The serum I gave you that should have linked the ocular to your was disrupted by the bullet. Somehow the damage to your hand disrupted the flow of energy between the two pieces! I can fix that with ease. I may even be able to upgrade the system so that you can adjust the level of magnification simply by a finger movement without touching the ocular."

[J. Deacon Monroe]

*Deacon pours himself some scotch, takes a sip, then puffs at his cigar*
I knew with a simple inspection you would be able to figure out a solution, and hopefully will be able to repair shortly. It would be great to be able to have the reaction time back up to optimal speed in my trigger finger.  
Though let me tell you old friend… *he lowers his eyebrows and says in a low tone* you are not an easy person to track down. I do not know exactly what you have been up to since the war, but it appears you keep yourself very well hidden.

[Wilhelm A. Heizeltroff]

I should be able to get you back up to full speed and better then previous connection to the ocular. With little effort."

He smiles and shrugs as he's asked about where he's been. "I had to hide for a bit after I left the military. They weren't thrilled about me taking my research. Some of it still has classified stamps on it." He laughs and leans back in his chair.

"I made my way here to England. I was offered immunity for my experiments provided I allowed the British first dibs on buying the results. So I set up the lab. Then it expanded into what it is now. Even though most governments know where to find Heizeltroff and Blackthorn Laboratories it's not exactly advertised on the street. I've made myself quite the small empire since we last parted." He grins wildly and looks around at the Gear and motions for Simon.

"Could you bring my Balvenie 21 yr old portwood my good primate!" He laughs as he watches the monkey swing down and quickly make his way over to the bar and brings over his requested bottle.

[J. Deacon Monroe]

*He takes another slow draw on his cigar as Wil pushes a tumbler of the Balvenie across the table*

As you know how my allegiances fall, I was unable to make many contacts within the Republic. Simply out of fear I would once again find myself rotting behind the bars of that horrid prison camp. So my investigation into your current location took much much longer than expected. After some hearsay of a Heizeltroff conducting experiments across the pond, I took a chance and boarded the first airship I could.

*He laughs, and tilts the tumbler back and forth watching the scotch roll*

So here I find you, enjoying the fruits of your labor, and what appears to be very enjoyable company. But here is the most important question...

*He sets the tumbler down, places both elbows on the table and laces his fingers together*

Tell me Wil, how does someone with my skills fit in over here? 

[Captain Silver SteamAether]

*the doors swing open in natural Silver style her whistling loud and clear. however, some things different. her movements are just a little bit less fluid. her whistling sounds a little more metallic. but, all in all still the same old Silver* after-afternoon everybody*grins*

[Captain Lachlan Bellraven]

  Howdy, there Sil, * waving from the bar* couldnt sleep either?

[Lady Brielle Serra]

*walks in from outside and orders some wine, slowly sipping and relaxing, swinging a dainty foot back and forth* Good evening, all! *smiles*

[Captain Silver SteamAether]

evening M'lady*bows politely*

[Lady Brielle Serra]

*looks to Silver and smiles* I hope you find yourself better than you did last evening, Captain. What was happening, exactly? *a hint of concern is in her voice*