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.
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!!!
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.
A slow, low, whirring of servos and gears filled the air. the lights flickered softly as the bar seemed to creak and groan with life. The old bar had ached. Longed. Hoped for its life force to come back.
The somber figure limped into the dimly lit bar. "wheres the goddamn whiskey!" slamming the cabinet doors shut as he noticed the empty shelves caked in dust. "I'm going to kill that bitch next time I get the chance."
*passing by Silver sees the lights come on and pushes the door open gun drawn in case it was an intruder* Felix? *catches sight of you* oh good*puts the gun away* I was afraid I would have to kill a trespasser today.
He uses his drawn knife to cut off the charrred and tattered clothes from himself, revealing all kinds of new scars. his back and chest almost nothing but scar tissue at this point. His left arm covered in crimson runes of all different languages.
"Glad its just you silver. Anyone one else I may have had to kill them," covering his indecency "This place has been dead for awhile. But then again so have I"
I always stop by when I'm in port. I try to make sure everything is still locked up tight.*glances back at the young man who entered steam escaping from between her teeth* killed some vandals last month trying to break the windows..
Noticing the establishment and wishing for the moment to be off the street so he could collect his thoughts, a young man enters the Gear and finds a seat in a more remote corner. His expression is one of interest and puzzlement as he looks around. His clothes are rather expensive and well maintained. Oddly, he seems not to notice or be bothered by the disheveled appearance of the place. He regards the other people with some interest, but says nothing as yet.
Still covering his indecencies while sitting on the bar, he rips off his metal leg and chucks them across the counter as he pulls a fresh pair from the panelling. "Glad to know they left some of my hidey holes here. Silver let me ask you have you ever been to hell? A singular minute felt like years of my life."
Listening to conversation, the young man quietly mutters to himself, "Well Zerneck, your infernal device worked. Now what?" He looks around for a newspaper as he watches the goings on.
I will be honest in saying no, But I have been to the cusp of the Aether. So I understand how a single moment is many millennia.*watches you work the panels her hand idly tracing the butt of her gun*
The runes glow a bright black flame that quickly turns blue then fizzles out. "It hasn't been working right for few months now. I want to have some sense of normalcy again." digging a pair of pants out from a cupboard, "They really cleaned me out. Which means the sky marshals have some pretty nice new tech on their hands. Anyways Silver do you have any whisky?"
*shakes her head* 'fraid not. I've got Rum though *offers out her flask watching the runes burn before her attention turned to the young man* who are you? *she asked her tone not defensive but purely curious
"I am Graf Fal...I mean Graffle. Yes, my name is Graffle, Christian Graffle." His accent is an odd mix of American and Central European, perhaps German. "I know this may sound odd, but what year is this?"
*she made an odd face* 1906..Christian huh? Captain Silver *tips her captains hat still looking at you a bit strangely*