[ ⚙️ ] FUR-COVERED COGS [ IC ]

[SUKONE-P]

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OOC; THREAD

https://role-player.net/forum/showth...09#post3103609

[SUKONE-P]

@Sabes;


Beep… beep… beep.


‎‎‎‎‎ ‎ The ringing of a very loud alarm clock blared in the young kangaroo’s room. He slams his hand down onto the heavy machinery, the clock going silent. He slowly rose out his bed.. His hair quite a mess. He looked out the window, seeing the clouds glowing a soft yellow and white hue as the sun shined down on them below.


‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ " Well, I should start getting ready . . . "


‎ Today was a festival. A Festival of PRIDE and FREEDOM. Sukone was required to guard this event today. Though, he'd much rather attend it and celebrate, go on the wonderful rides and eat all of the wonderful food being sold at todays very important event. He let out a gentle huff, stepping out of bed as he slowly pushed a wrench out of his way with his foot. He would first, use the bathroom. Then, got dressed. Sliding on his heavy blak pants.. looking around for his shirt and mechnical military jacket.

‎ Once getting completely dressed, he slid on his hat.. the brim poking out and shining with the golden edges having light bounce off of them.

‎ ‎ He opened his bedroom door and closed it, walking down the imperial and gracious halls made of heavy stone and pillars. Reaching a large door that lead down a corridor full of military figures that were made of the finest stone and gold. He looked up at them for a mere second, before opening the door at the end of the corridor. And with that, he reached a semi-public area. decorated with nice banners. He smiled ocne more at the sight of them, reaching he town square area where a large amount of people bustled up.. wearing the colors of the floating city as the vendors and attendes conversated and traveled down the straight path of the festival.

‎
‎ The military groups had their own area, also being praised among this day for keeping the city safe and in order.


‎ " Sukone! " yelled a lower rank military man. " You are needed at the festivals military area... you will not be standing guard today. Instead, you're required to talk to the townspeople and answer any questions they might have. "


‎ Sukone chuckled lightly, and looked at him. " So.. like a meet n' greet? " He would put his hands behind his head before letting out a gentle huff. " I can do that... seems more fun then standing guard ~ " He patted the others head before heading off to a nice booth area where other important figures stood. All coming fom different backgrounds and upbringings.. all at one table.



‎ " Hello everyoneee ! ~ " He said to the people at the table, conversating with the people at the table. Though, a thought then struck his head. What did the people down below celebrate? Did they have their own festival of sorts? Or did they just go on with their daily lives?




‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He decided later on he would go down below.. and check it out.



‎ ‎ For now, he stood around and answered questions given to him by the public. Giving his autograph down to the young, giving a soft-hearted speech to the people alongside many others. The day was slowly ending for the festival, already have been there for 5 hours, he was ready to go.


‎ He was ready to go below and see what happened down there. He might even try to start up a bit of conflict below as well.. spark some rumors and then tell them all they were lies.



‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Oh , the fun he'd have watching that go down



‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎But sadly . . . he cannot leave just yet.

‎

[Sabes]

Minding himself as he patrolled around the Middle Class streets, Rue was in casual thought about some of the ladies he'd slept with recently and if he'd bump into one on the streets. His thoughts seemed to be distracting him from the typical problems that came up in the Middle's streets; the occasional bag of trash tossed to the street that a racoon or a human hobo was casually scrounging around in...the faraway sounds of small pistols being shot followed by screams of laughter...the human or furry pedestrians passing him by with the smell of drugs or public drinking...It was all just a normal day as an esteemed member of the Protection Forces. Wearing his badge round his plumage like a trophy as he strutted through the muck and controlled chaos, he let his sultry poultry thoughts fill his mind. Stopping by a quaint flower shop that didn't seem to be manned by anyone, he plucked a flower with his talon thoughtfully, then tried to catch a thin beam of sunlight that slipped between a gap in the Floating City above. Squinting as he looked up, he could almost make out the sight of celebration up there. Bright colors, banners, balloons. A small feeling of wonder passed through him. What truly is going on up there? was the brief thought in his mind which was quickly pushed out by his daily daydreams while on the job.

[Enigma]

The staff of the Promethean Society gentlemen's club had already been up before dawn, sweeping out the public and club rooms, polishing the brass and silver, cleaning the windows and mirrors, as well as ferreting out the various bits and pieces that had been missed the night before, so it was finally time for breakfast.


The stewards and footmen were milling at their places at their respective tables, while Luna stood at her place at the far end of the Head table. A few of the others were still griping how the scullery boy had managed that jump, but even they would agree among themselves it wasn't an improvement if they had to spend all that time dealing with the Club Secretary. A few of the glances her way looked almost sorry for her.


Almost.


At 8:15, Sergeant Major Williams and the rest of the senior staff appeared in the doorway of the Servant Dining Room, stepping in. The former service men among the stewards and footmen immediately straightened up at attention while Luna and the other civilians did their best to copy them. The Sergeant Major's eyes ran down the men in their spotless uniforms and an almost smile crept forbidden to his lips - only to freeze and curl into a look of disgust as he stared at Luna's back.


Solly sighed, catching where the Sergeant Major was looking but before he could speak the manager was already striding towards the errant assistant.


"Nineteen," he thundered warningly from behind them, "What is THAT you've got sticking out of your trousers?!?"
"My... tail, sir?"
"It's his tail," Solly said, coming up behind him as some of the other juniors snickered, ceasing when the florid manager glared at them angrily.
"I know it's a tail!" he bellowed. "I can see its a tail, I have eyes you know! I want to know why it's out on display!"
"There've been some... complaints," Solly admitted.
"Complaints?! Complaints? What sort of complaints?"


"They said he looked like he soiled himself," Lofty said, placing a steaming crock on the table.
"Shut it you disgusting turnip!" the Sergeant Major bellowed at the assistant cook as the snickers started up again.


Luna's cheeks were burning, but you couldn't see it under the fur.


"So," the Sergeant Major said, turning to deputy. "This is the solution, then? Just letting it stick out the back of their trousers? Are they going to fall down?"
"Oh no," Solly said. "They make a nice hemmed grommet in the back and they just button the waist band up like in the front. Those trousers will never fall down, and it's within the dressing guidelines. You remember seeing that among the other troops and of course some of the club members."
"But they're gentlemen! They're allowed their eccentricities!"


"I quite like it," the Secretary said fondly at the gray and white fluff with one of his rare beaming smiles, which started up the snickering once more.


"SHUT IT!" the Sergeant Major bellowed angrily, then shot Beaumont a hot glare. "Gentlemen, to your positions, please."


Chastely, the senior staff, joined by the cook, took their accustomed positions around the head table, then got a very curt, "Sit," from the Sergeant Major. Then there was the usual chorus of chairs being pulled out from the table and people sitting down.


"Tails," the Sergeant Major muttered darkly, then launched into the prayer.

[Arcus]

The ship had been delayed, how could a flying ship get delayed. Trak wondered, he had even done the crew a favor by taking out the rats that had been chewing on wiring the humans would have had trouble reaching. So why in the name of the great shining sun, are they taking so long this time? The cat thought he had been in luck when he heard that there was going to be a last minute cargo ship, headed for the floating city, because they had wanted to make sure there was enough food for some celebration they were having. Something that he wanted to witness for himself, not because he actually cared about freedom celebration or whatever it was, but because humans were always messy. So that means so long as he was careful and stayed out of their direct sight, he would be able to have quite the feast today.

When they finally landed, Trak was beyond eager to get off, but he still had to wait for the right moment and while they were busy with their human things. I snuck off and made my way to the celebration, sticking to the shadows and avoiding the sights of the humans. Licking his lips as he followed his nose to the celebration, following the scent of all kinds of human food. He was looking for it, no way that he was going to go hungry today.

[Sabes]

Keeping his head low and his eyes tucked under his tattered cap, Sable focused on his factory work. While the sun was still out, he would remain at the factory, repeating his brainless task for what felt like crumbs worth of pay. Between his chipped, black nails, he delicately twisted and placed intricate contraptions out of muscle memory, mostly clueless where each of the products he build went to next. Sometimes his fur would get stuck between cogs in machines around him. In the times that he was tired, he would take a break from hunching over his work to step away and pluck his white fur from the cogs and maintain the machine. Every once in a while, a chunk that the cogs would pluck was big enough to leave a painful patch on his side or forearm for him to circle his battered nail around when he was home with his uncle.
Suddenly, he looked up from his work because he felt something touch his tail as he heard humans behind him. He turned around blankly to stare down at them. They were a small, naked race. He never knew why they would tease him. "Are you in need of entertainment, gentlemen?" he said with his dark eyes blinking dully.
A squirrely young human, half the size of Sable hopped around like a pup, saying, "yeah, you make a good source, furry!" The other human workers dawdled around and cackled, prodding Sable. What is it with humans and always wanting to touch my fur? He thought as he kept a blank face. "Excuse me," he spoke up at last. "I have to get back to work." At that, he turned around again and continued his hunched tinkering. The humans must have left soon after because when his attention switched from his tools and object to the pain in his back, he realized that they had gone. I suppose they're kind of cute sometimes, he tried convincing himself as his spine let out a couple dull cracking sounds. There was no way to pay the rent or food without this job and he knew that dealing with humans was tacitly part of the job description.

[Enigma]

"So, Nineteen," the Club Secretary asked as Luna took the cover off of the typewriter sitting on the desk. "Do you understand your duties?"

"I believe so, sir," she replied earnestly. "I am to assist the club members with getting newspapers, books, and writing letters. Do I need to fetch the newspapers from the newsagents?"
"Oh, goodness me, no. Papers are delivered to the front entrance where the footmen take in the stack..."
"So I get them from the footmen?"
"No, the stewards will bring them up after they've finished ironing them."
"Iron them....?" she asked, non-pulsed. "Why...?"
"Ah," Gunner Beaumont replied, holding up his hands and wiggling his fingers. "To dry the ink, of course, so our members don't get stained hands."

She paused, looking down at her hands in curiosity. "So, when I do a letter, I will need to iron it?"
"Sand it first, then iron it, yes. You'll find an iron in the workroom in back."
"Sand, sir?"
"To dry the ink, of course." He held up the sand shaker. "Didn't they have one of these where you learned to type?"
"No, sir."
"How unusual," the secretary said, shaking his head as he sat down.

Beaumont then pointed at a ledger on a stand before the bookshelves. "When someone wishes to borrow a book, please write down the title, the member's name and the date. We use it should someone be looking for a title that's checked out. Also, we may get an inquiry as to the books our members are reading here, so an inspector may want to check the ledger."
"An inspector?" Luna demanded, eyes widening as she glanced back at him.
"Oh, don't worry. All our books are on the approved list, after all."
"What happens if one gets..."
"The book is recalled if one of the members is reading it, and is set aside for the inspector on their next visit," Beaumont shrugged. "However, it's rare that any book in our library gets disapproved."

[upscalerat]

Winter was perhaps Nell's least favorite season. Or, was it summer? Just whenever it rained? Maybe whenever it was windy enough to blow dirt and debris into the joints in her arm? Most of the year had something to complain about, but perhaps that was just another joy of life- complaining about it. Perhaps if Nell had more time on her hands, she could have compared the pros and cons of the various seasons and weathers against each other; as it currently was, she had hard ground to dig through and no time for philosophy.

At least her arm had just been fixed up. Last week, Nell had been digging a spot for a tree transfer, and ended up hitting a rock with enough force that the damned thing just died. She'd knocked some piece so far out of place, her brother said, that she was just completely unable to use the arm for three days after the incident. She had been nearly unable to work for those three days, as well, which meant hardly any pay for those days. Not that there was ever much work to do in winter, but every extra hour helped.

It was still early afternoon when Nell was finished for the day. She had tried to take as long as she could, and the hard ground certainly helped her there, but there was still only so much that needed to be done in winter. Move some shrubs around, plant a tree, clear the walkways for the homeowners and scrape the ice off of their house... Maybe Nell should have been looking into some sort of seasonal job for the winter, she thought as she trudged down back to the middle district. Perhaps there was some vendor who would be willing to hire her for just a couple of months- just until the weather got a bit warmer.

Well, there was a fat chance of that, she knew, but she could dream. Like how she could dream about having had the foresight to wear her scarf that morning- but alas, when the wind blew, all the woman could do was cower her neck into her jacket. It was in need of replacement, wearing thin all over, but Nell had better things to spend her money on. Rent and food came first, of course, but anything after that often went to the bars- like it was going to do today. What else was she going to do to kill time between now and when her factory worker friends were done for the day but get a head start on them, and borrow the bartender's ear?

[Sabes]

As Rue was absentmindedly patrolling the streets, he began heading up towards the Upper Class levels of the city. He twirled the flower he had plucked between his talon nails and appeared to be lost in a trance. Suddenly, he nearly ran into someone who was coming from the opposite direction. It was a human with a prosthetic and reddish hair. "Oh, excuse me, ma'am," he gasped, ripped out of his trance. Puffing his chest out again so his badge could be at eye-level, he analyzed the human with his yellow eyes. She appeared to be cold, and with dirt on her arms and knees. "Heading somewhere?" He figured she had just gotten off of her job. "I hate to interrupt," he said assertively. "But are you in need of being escorted? Perhaps a friendly acquaintance?" He meant only good intention by it. It was costmary for an officer of the protection forces to be chummy with the citizens. That's how they gather intel--or drama--and how they citizens could learn to rely on their protection. Not to mention, it can be occasionally dangerous for any one person to walk by themselves as they're heading toward the Middle Class level.

[Enigma]

"'Eading out, sir?" Tolly asks, the doorman at the Society of Odd Fellows. As nobody liked buildings that might explode in the midst (which, to be fair, happened occasionally, but only twice prompting a move to find a new location), the current location sat in what could be called the border between the lower middle-class neighborhoods and the less fortunate. Not even the most desperate of cabbies would venture these streets in search of a fare.

"Some of the members running into some rough business on their way 'ome," the doorman added. "I could send some of the porters with you?"
"Tully," John Dovington asks, leaning on his cane, "Do you make such offers to all the journeymen?"
"Well sir, most of 'em aren't quite like yerself, sir," Tolly grinned impudently, looking him up and down. "But then they know ta venture out together, unlike yerself."

"I see," John smiles back. "I am a veteran, Tully. Made it through the last war..."
"Aye sir, so you did," Tolly nodded, looking pointedly at John's right leg.
"..And in any case, I have my cane."

In truth, he had more than that, but it didn't pay to advertise.

"Yer stick," Tully frowns, shaking his head about what he thought about a mere cane. "Well, good evenin' to yerself, sir. 'Ope ta see you tomorrow."

John could feel the doorman's eyes on him as he went down the street.

He knew if he got robbed or killed in the street, no matter how much they would demand the police to find his attacker, most of his class would quietly condemn him, a cripple, for walking alone in such a neighborhood, dressed as he was. He could just hear them asking, "Why didn't he have a man with him?"

The thought made him scowl. Living independent as he did, a veteran, there was a suggestion of rugged nobility. But give him a nursemaid, it would suggest he was weak, unable to take care of his own affairs or himself. Those of his class would give him sideway glances as they quietly shared biting remarks. The lower classes had no idea of the sharks that circled in his world.

He glanced up, but there was no sign of the floating city from this street. It made him wonder what sort of sharks lived there?

Looking back at the street in front of him, he saw the man leaning against a lamp post, glancing casually back at him. A would-be wolf among the sheep. Like his betters, this man was sizing him up and found him wanting - an easy mark, a richly dressed man with a limp. No doubt he intended to push him into the alley, out of sight before threatening him with a knife. Or were there others, waiting?

His other right hand went for his revolver, cocking it, holding in ready as he watch the guy step away from the lamp post, tensing himself as John drew level with the alley.

The thug's charge was sudden, knocking him sprawling into some crates and down onto the filthy cobblestones of the alley. Something knocked his artificial leg, it felt loose and began twitching uncontrollably, like the clockwork spring was unwinding. The thug's smile, however, slipped from his face when he looked up to see the cocked gun floating in mid-air, pointing directly at him.

"Not so easy, am I?" John grinned fiercely.