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.

 

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As Ara waved the smelling salts in front of her face, Brielle slowly came to.

"Wha...what? Where am I? Ara?" She blinked.

"Arabella?" Her lashes fluttered in a state of disorientation. "I thought you were dead. I thought everyone was probably dead. Or missing." She burst into tears.

"Oswin was missing, and you were dead, and Felix was dead....." Her breath hitched "You are alive....so.....does that mean?" She bit her lip and slowed down her breathing to avoid another fainting spell.

"What have I done?" she tearfully proclaimed.

   "Brielle!" Arabella laughed and wrapped her arms around her friend. "Oh I don't fucking know but it's fine now. We're here. I'm here at least. I don't know about the others. I have so much to tell you from well...this" She gestured to her new eyepatch, "to my new rank and crew and mess and Hell and Felix and Fuck! Who's the not Felix Felix outside?" She laughed, "Who is that guy? Where have you been? How have you been? What is new? Why are you wearing corsets again?" 

She smiled and allowed herself to be embraced, clumsily hugging her friend back.

"We have a mess to sort through, don't we?" She giggled through the tears.

"Well....Felix was dead...and literally everyone was gone, in one way or another. It was dead empty in here. I went hunting for Felix, through England, to America, and realized that he was gone, gone......."

"And then I, met Solomon." A warm glow lit up her face. "Now we are engaged, to be married. Its been a mess, but I'm back in good graces with my parents, so we can rejoin polite society, at least on the outskirts....."

She paused, a troubled look in her eye. "But Felix.....might not be dead?"

  Ara returned the question with a grave look in her eye. "I think he's alive." She said, feeling the burden leave her mouth and place itself on Brielle's shoulders. It should have been hard to say, but it wasn't. The thick air filled her lungs and seemed to press against her chest like a balloon. "I-" She wasn't sure what she was going to say next but she couldn't leave it there. "I think your intended and my crew are waiting for us." 

She blinked back tears.

"IF he's alive, what is left of him? I don't mean physically. He will be back, with a few more scars, and maybe some more machinery for parts but.....whatever he has gone through....." Her eyes go dark. "I can't even begin to imagine."

They hear a knock on the door. "Ladies? Are you ok in there?" Brielle takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose before sweetly answering.

"Oh, I feel much better darling, just catching up....we will be out in a minute!"

She looks to Ara. In hurried hushed tones, she murmurs, "We have to find him. We have to save him. And then...." She shakes her head, "I don't know. But we can't let him fester in whatever depressive pit he is hiding in."

  Ara, stopped in front of the closed door, shut her eyes with every question, every guess. How could she explain the literal Hell she and Felix had fought their way out of? She remembered when she first left, the numbness, the feeling of her memories being intangible, the confusion. But Felix was different. Where she had her own demons, he had his and truth be told, she couldn't gauge the sorts of scars he might have. 

  "I don't know." Ara replied after she had put Solomon's inquiry to rest. "I haven't found him in London but I know he's alive and- I don't know. But we need a clue first. Or we need to wait. He might turn up."

   She turned back around to fully face her friend, "You turned up, I turned up. And I told my crew we wouldn't leave London until I found everyone."

   "But Brielle," she swept in close to her friend excitedly, "If you listen, if you really sit still and quiet and listen, you could almost hear him coming back to us. You could almost hear everyone coming back to us. I can't explain it. It's like a feeling in your chest. I know you've felt it before."  She smiled, the pain washing away with her words. "We can do this and in the mean time, we'll just have to stick together."  

 A knock came at the door. 

  "Captain Porter!" Dominique called, "Fucking Arabella fucking Porter! Did you die in there?" 

She nedded.

"I can feel it too. I could feel it the moment I saw the light shining through the windows, the open doors, feel that the heartbeat of this place had come back." She took a deep breath. "I just....I thought I was being hopeful." She shook her head, one corner turned up. "Of course, now I am just confused."

Another knock on the door and a masculine voice. "Ladies? Are you well?"

"Yes, yes dear, we will be out in a moment..." She shook her head.

"A mess. When you finally start to stop grieving, it all gets shaken up......he isn't going to be ok when we find him, Ara. And I have to figure out what I'm doing here. I love him. I think.....part of me will always love him. But I don't know......he will need to heal. I need to heal, after some of the things that have happened. The constant back and forth-to grieve all the way through acceptance, and then he is back? It is difficult to comprehend." She angrily dashes a tear away.

"I love Solomon too. He is....good for me, romantic, sweet, he isn't so scarred that he has emotional breakdowns every few months about unspeakable things in his past."

She slumped down the wall. "They are different, and I love them both. Now this is a problem I never would have thought I would have in a million years...." She stood up and brushed off her skirts. "Are you coming? They might bust in the door soon...." She grabbed Ara's hand and led her through the door.

Squeaking in surprise at the sudden appearance of dishevelled faces at the window on top of the arrival of a 'clickety-clack' like the one 'Mister' would drive to and from the moors and all the familiar faces of 'Mister's' friends, Nyamuk skittered excitedly away and, once clear of the shadows, vaults into the air toward his 'Mister's' dwelling across and out of 'the Smokes' into the clear, brisk skies over the peats of Mourne.

Brielle snuck through the door, a the hood of the deep emerald cape pulled nearly over her face. She slid onto a barstool, and pulled the hood down, nodding at Simon who chattered and got her a drink.

She took it, sipping gratefully, noting that despite Felix not being physically present in the bar, his apparent return to the world of the living was a powerful force in the aura of the place. It hadn't been so busy in over a year. She closed her eyes, fingers rubbing her temples, lost in a daydream of simpler times.

The doorway of the bar seemed to fall under a dark shadow moments before the door swung open. Sidling through sideways Kolgrimm's massive shoulders shrugged as he looked around. The bar room was cleaner than it had been several weeks ago when he had hidden inside from some local authorities. He noticed a well dressed young woman at the bar and made his was over slowly, running his hands over the waxed spikes of his beard bfore speaking. "Is the Gear back open again miss or did someone new buy this place?"

He pulled the maul from his back and set it gently beside a stool, the thump just a touch quieter than that of a heavy bass drum.

She jumped, startled out of her reverie.

"Good evening...." She started, almost out of habit. She looked up then and her eyes widened. "Grimm, is that you?" She tilted her head.

"And the answer to your question is that the Rejected Gear is in fact open again, apparently by the old owner, although we have yet to locate him." Her brow furrowed.

"What brings you here tonight?"

As she speaks Grimm realizes it is the barmaid from before. "Hmmm...Brielle isn't it? Who is the old owner anyway? Never did meet him meself."

He settles himself carefully on a stool."Speakin of folk can't be found you ain't heard word from Heizeltroff has ya? Ever since his lab was taken he fell off the face o' the damned world."

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