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.

 

[Wilhelm A. Heizeltroff]

Wil chuckles at Simon before limping slowly to his chair and settles into it. He looks to Val and Dorian. "Sadly I manged nothing but the clothes on my back and most of my research but even that is incomplete. The latest tome is missing. Sadly covert work will do me no good. My home and money are gone. Nearly eighty years old and I am poorer than the day I was born."

[Arabella Porter]

Dorian poured another glass of wine. "You've been knocked down to the working class. So dreadful. However, I hear some working class jobs can be exciting when you've found them, if not just quaint." He lied. There was nothing worse to Dorian than working on a schedule but it would be better to cheer his friend if anything and his usual philosophy of blunt truth would be counter productive in this particular situation. 

[Valarian H. Vol]

Val turns to Wil.  "If you'd like, I can go back and see if I can get anything that hasn't been destroyed.  It would have to be small and easily portable items, such as books or small containers, though..."

[Wilhelm A. Heizeltroff]

Wil simply shook his head."No. The DSS will be pouring over every piece of paper and substance. They have been trying to get my work for three decades and they won't give any of it up."

Wil looked to Dorian and raised an eyebrow, "I have been taken to the lowest point in my life. I don't have a half penny to my name and you talk of quaint employment? I am destitute, upset, and growing angrier by the moment. They did take my life from me but they have not taken my mind nor will all of my contacts be quick to toss me aside. No Dorian. I will not find a simple, quaint job because it would take time away from the war I am about to wage against the Grand Republic of America and their Division of Specialized Services."

[Arabella Porter]

Dorian gulped down his wine. "I beg your pardon, sir. I meant no offense. But as much as I have made light, your situation rather interests me and I would like to express my concern verbally if it has not been made clear."  

[Wilhelm A. Heizeltroff]

"No apologies needed my friend. I just find as the shock wears off that it is being replaced with anger. I apologize if I seemed short with you."

He sighed and leaned back.

[Valarian H. Vol]

"Very good." Val said.  "I'll offer whatever is required.  Whatever it takes to get you back in shape."

Val paced back and forth, thinking...

[Captain Lachlan Bellraven]

*The doors fly open banging against the walls * Well, thats it I quit !..... Lachlans melodrama was a bit thicker than his normal charming banter. Every single time I try to get this cursed gold exchanged something happens! I ask you..*looking  to all in the room just as if they cared.*...I mean ok, so maybe it IS cursed but why should that stop any honest fence ...I ask you ? And forget legitimate bankers ..cowardly moral spineless fools.

[Lady Brielle Serra]

Darlings, breaking the fourth wall for a moment here. 

For the moment, the Rejected Gear is temporarily closed.

Weep not, for it shall be back and better than ever shortly, as the story is coming back in a big way. Stay tuned, my Loves!

[Captain Silver SteamAether]

We can all continue our day-to-day silly shenanigans in my tea room if it pleases everyone..tickles their fancy, floats their ship one might even say!

[CPT Edward Leviticus H.]

[CPT Edward Leviticus H.]

*Leviticus walks into The Rejected Gear and hangs an over sized poster of the flag of the Airship Black Rose*

Do you recognized that flag? Does it not strike fear in your heart? Or at least annoy you to some degree with the question, " What the hell is that?".

Friends I've been gone for sometime, I've been crew of the Black Rose for what seems like months, perhaps years. This airship is captained by a huge husky creature, part man part vampire, all pirate. I was in market in the steam lands of the Southwest when I first met him, I was running armaments and other gadgets of the trade to the local populace.

He fancied an aether plasmic RPG of my own design, capable of destroying an entire airship with one shot. Unfortunately you could only shoot it once because aether does grow on trees you. it very dangerous stuff.

It was this curious instrument of death that caught the Captain's attention. He strode up to my booth and inquired, "Who might ye be?". I looked at his hairy mug, with a cigar clenched in his jagged fangs, blowing smoke everwhichaways. "I'm Leviticus, Edward Leviticus, weaponsmith and adventurer. Who the cus are you?".

His dark almost soulless eyes peered into my trying to look tough face when he said, "Lad, I'm Captain Byron Silvermane, my ship be the Black Rose, full of the most twisted torched creatures ever to set foot in the multi verse". I'm in need of a quarter master with an insatiable thirst for blood and adventure. Are ye full of blood lust and don't give a f*** attitude?

I took but a moment to inform Mr Silvermane that I was not full of blood lust as I was very human, and I was not privy to suicide missions.

Excellent Boy! Give of this two bit peddling crap job and join me crew. I promise they will not eat you. Our oracle will bless you with her dark sorcery and give you charms that will protect you from Vamprye, Lycanthrope, and most other dark children of the night. I'll only offer once, after that... I've tear out your throat and make you one of my minions anyway.

You had me at tear out your throat. Where do I fill an application and W2s?

From that point on I had used my craft to arm the crew of the Black Rose, gallivanting across the multi verse robbing The Order, getting paid from other Airships to do the work no other Airships would do.

I've seen up close the black orifice of the Air Kraken and live to tell about it. I lost my arm to mercenary missions and had it replaced with steam powered technology, only to have my limp grow back with the Captain's strange magic.

I regal my story because... the Black Rose is recruiting once again! We can't seem to keep everybody because often death is permanent, but we have a necromancer aboard! And rum! All the rug the Captain decides to give you. Its not just a job, its an adventure.