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.

 

[Madame Erzebet Sedwick]

She smirks her ugly smirk again.

"Immortality is such a fabulous advantage, isn't it?"

[Dusten "The Reaper"]

Indeed it is, and it's fun to take that immortality away mwhaha

[Lady Brielle Serra]

She shrugs. "He is stable. It can wait until we figure out what to actually do with him...." She shakes her head.

"Perhaps Ara will turn up and she can deal with him herself!"

[Lady Brielle Serra]

"Immortal you say? Darling...we must have a chat....." She brightens up a bit at the prospect.

[Wilhelm A. Heizeltroff]

Wil shrugs. "Not really certain if it's immortality or just I regenerate in some way. The formula did not do what I expected it to do." 

Turning to Brie he gives a sad smile. "Immortality, in any form is not such a pleasant experience dear. It gives you far more time to contemplate the actions of your life. It gives you a chance to see that which you love wither away with time."

[Madame Erzebet Sedwick]

"What interest do you have in such a life?

"As for contemplation... Easily mended. Simply don't think."

[Sgt. Ian MacBrooke]

     The Black Hag looms from the shadows like a potato from the sod...low and hardly worthwhile. Still, I do seem to gravitate there more often than is considered healthful. Perhaps today I'll pass through quickly enough to escape notice from the indigent patrons and toward the back corner. I could luck out and make it to the Gear in one piece perhaps...

[Madame Erzebet Sedwick]

Looks around the room.

"It was certainly fascinating to make your acquaintances, but I really must be off. I have to see a man about a kitten."

Turns to Brielle, "I hope we shall see more of each other."

Throws a bag of silver on a nearby table and exits.

[Sgt. Ian MacBrooke]

 Stumbling from the shadows along the south wall of the Gear near the head,quite literally there's a head back here, I stop and pivot with the grace of a man far into his twilight...THUD! *much moaning and cussing*

[Marshal Sir Jon Marshall]

At a table in a dark corner of the Inn, Sir John was lost in thought and a dwindling bottle of fine aged Tennessee whiskey. Helmut was gone, his business partner for nigh on 20 years, the meeting with his associate in Ankara went south after word that the Daedalus, a fiery ball, had plunged into the icy Black Sea off Sevastopol. Finding a reliable partner who won't cut your throat in the night is hard; finding a friend with whom you've made so many discoveries and fought side by side with is near impossible. These smugglers, ladies and mercenaries seem like good drinking companions, but can any of them be trusted enough to share the archane secrets he'd learned in his travels.

He overhears the lovely proprietress Lady Brielle conversing with a rather cold, enigmatic woman. He sneaks a furtive glance in the direction of the conversation. This new arrival is quite lovely and clearly a woman of means. There talk of pyramids and immortality is intriguing. He wonders what secrets she's uncovered. 

The professor comes in and joins their conversation, the weighty topic of which they talk of so freely. Rather than join in, he attentively listens and views the action through the sepia tone reflection in the whiskey bottle, as Dusten the reaper joins them. 

Suddenly a frenetic, seemingly half mad woman races into the bar and grabs a bottle of bourbon and a glass. She drinks the bourbon and leaves the full glass.

"That's no way to treat a high ball of fine whiskey madam" He approaches, takes up the glasses and drinks it down swiftly. "That's better. All fine things need a good home."

"I'm afraid I haven't had the pleasure of making your acquaintance my dear. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Marshal Sir Jon Marshall, my friends call me Sir Jon, but any permutation will do."

[Sgt. Ian MacBrooke]

Levering myself from the floor and thinking it surprising no one offered to give me any assistance, I begin to wonder if perhaps I haven't actually returned to the Gear of my timeline, but perhaps of another, more indifferent and self-centered. Perhaps I've taken too many blows to the head as well.

Heading to the bar and seeing the barkeep lounging at the far end, I call out for a..."Tandarian Orange Blossom, Simon. Now about this flyer saw fluttering along the street..." I pull a slightly rumpled and folded paper from my jacket pocket and flatten it upon the bar to peruse it in a less hurried manner than before.

Hmmmm....someone's gone into the publishing business.

[Captain Lachlan Bellraven]

*Lach looks over at the poster Ian just pulled out*  Well. that's insulting I'm not even mentioned at all.