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.

 

[Lady Brielle Serra]

Brielle comes out of her room, red rimmed eyes and disheveled hair, to find a newcomer and Silver. Dabbing at the last of her tears, she quietly and dishearteningly says, "Hello Silver. Thank you, but I stabilized him well enough to keep until one of the men gets back home." She turns to the stranger.

"May I get you anything? I am terribly sorry, you have caught us at a terrible time....you see, one of my closest friends may very well be dead and I only just found out and had to deal with her murderer...."

[Marshal Sir Jon Marshall]

"Murder! Always a ghastly pickle. I seem to be well suited with ample libations", he holds up the bottle of Tennessee whiskey. "I've been noted to be useful in dealing with scoundrels M'Lady. May I be of service. The name's Marshall Sir Jon Marshall, but you can refer to me as Sir Jon or just plain Jon my lovely."

[Marshal Sir Jon Marshall]

"Oh yes M'Lady, one more thing. I'm looking to make the acquaintance of an accomplished and reputable, but not too reputable airship captain. Could you steer me in the right direction?"

[Lady Brielle Serra]

She dips a little curtsey and smiles weakly at him.

"Pray tell, what do you need one of those for? We have a few around here and they all specialize in different things..."

[Captain Silver SteamAether]

*finally drops the salute* i am a captain sir. I am Captain Silver Steamaether of the HMS Poccketwatch Her Majesty's 7th fastest airship in the royal fleet. pleasure to meet you* extends a hand...she's nearly full automaton. however, there are a few spots on her neck and forearms that are still human skin*

[Marshal Sir Jon Marshall]

He returns the curtsy of the lovely raven haired proprietor with a bow. "It's a tragic story really. My late partner was returning to Ankara where I was meeting with an associate of ours, when our ship The Daedalus came under fire by two of the Kaiser's Bismark class air dreadnaughts. He thought he could out maneuver them so, despite my advice, he turned and attacked. He was a stalwart old bastard, I'll give him that, but he lacked the good sense to know when a tactical retreat is the better part of valor." He raises his glass, pours a drink for the lady and the lovely cyborg next to him. "Here's to departed friends, and to new ones!"

He turns to the silver cyborg next to him at the bar. "Pleased to make your acquaintance M'mostly mechanical good lady, my name is Sir Jon."

[Lady Brielle Serra]

She nods towards Silver.

"Well, right here is one such skycaptain.....the only one available at the moment although new faces wander in and out all the time and you never know what qualifications they might have!" She steps behind the bar and busies herself tidying up the serving area.

[Marshal Sir Jon Marshall]

"It is a pleasure and my good fortune to make your acquaintance Captain Steameather. I might be a jolly good day for all of us. I am in need of both a worthy conveyance, fast and well armed, and a new partner or two. I am an archanist who has traveled the world my good ladies in search of certain objects from antiquity which might be worth your time."

[Captain Silver SteamAether]

*hisses a bit of steam with a chuckle* I do enjoy a good travel with an interesting stranger*she shifted her weight the bronze and copper plates catching the light* do you have any needs?

[Marshal Sir Jon Marshall]

"At the moment my dear captain, I need another whiskey or five and to brush off the dust of commercial air travel." He brushes off his knickers and smiles. "Won't you join me for a drink captain and my Lady? What, pray tell is your name M'Lady? Also, I'm looking for a good well provisioned room for the evening." He holds up the bottle. "Oh heavens, how much do I owe you for the whiskey? The lovely ghost didn't ask for payment."

[Captain Silver SteamAether]

my name is Silver* chuckles * commercial airline eh? *pretends to cringe* that's never fun for me.

[Marshal Sir Jon Marshall]

"Tomorrow I must return to my estate to....ehem, decompress. Tonight is for more idle talk and merry making, serious business can wait." His hand shakes as he discreetly wipes the cold sweat off his brow. His mind is a bit a flutter from the fevered dream of withdrawal.