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.







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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The corner of her mouth twitched up.

"Felix. He is back from the dead, again. We just aren't quite sure where he has gone since his return...."

The expression on her face shifted to a more serious one. "Many of the regular crowd hasn't been in here in a long time. I've been hoping to reconnect with him....make sure he is doing well....but I haven't heard a thing from him."

Grimm nodded a bit than reached behind the bar and drew forth a bottle of caribbean rum. Pulling the cork free with his teeth he took a deep swig. "Seems a shame so many forgot this place. It's a good place and comfy."

He took another deep swig before looking around. "So who is runnin dis place if the owner is missin?"

She took a deep breath in.

"Now, that is a good question." She paused.

"It rather appears that this place has a mind of its own. The transformation that has taken hold of this place since he's been back alive is about as miraculous as the fact that he is alive again in the first place."

Grimm gave a small grin, hidden under his beard but for a twitch of his whiskers. "Ya'd be surprised what a man can survive or return from lady."

Pulling the neck of his shirt down slightly a wode scar can be seen down just to the left of his sternum. Letting it go he winked at her. "A boarding axe opened my chest and for far less than a beautiful woman or a succesful bar I survived. If half the tales of the supposed owner of this bar are true then he can make it through far worse."

She slightly winces at the sight of the scar then her gaze turns up to meet his.

"Unfortunately, nearly all of them are. The question is, where did he go to sulk now that he survived."

She took a measured drink from her glass. "So, you never answered my question. What brings you here tonight?"

Grimm snorted and shook his head. "Honestly I was walking through the area and noticed the boards were no longer up. When I tried the door it was open."

He took another big swig of the rum and cracked his neck loudly from side to side. "Walk by here couple times a month looking for Heizeltroff. Keep hoping to find him. I got a letter from him afterwards saying when he needed me I would know."

She nodded.

"Wil has his way of letting us know what he's up to when he's ready. I'm sure he's ok....He is as tough as Felix, in his own way and methods."

"At least this place is doing well again. I was rather missing it...."

Grimm grinned as he finished the bottle of one long chug. "True. That damnable alchemist seems capable of surviving near anything thrown at him. I know I tried more than once."

He turned to face her and reached behind him to lift the massive maul into his hand. Seemingly inspecting the head he turned it slightly to show her the face was clear of a single mark."Hjalmfluga. To this day I have no grasp of what was done when it was made. I just know, like men Felix and Wilhelm, no matter what it goes through it comes out whole on the other side."

Her face pales.

"What is that, exactly? Although I can't argue on your other point...."

He chuckles and swing the hammer around so the head is over his left shoulder while a series of clicks can be heard as the handle connected to the magnets in his back."I ain't s.art like Heizeltroff. I'm no psychic like some of them gyspsy women. But even I can see you are worried when you mention Felix. Like I said, if half of what I heard is true you gots nuttin to fear." He stands slowly, his massive bulk seeming to fill the space as surely as the great shipping kegs. "I'll be off tonight. Rest well miss."

enters the room covered in dust 

*the fireplace erupts into life with black and blue fire. A hand reaches through the flames followed by an arm, a shoulder, a mess of long smouldering hair and finally a face. Octavius pulls himself through the flames and into the room. He stands up straight and dusts himself down*

I have to always remember never to go home sober *he mutters to himself and promptly hops onto a barstool butt first and cracks open a bottle of gin*


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