SMOKE & STEAM

[machinah]

AUGUST KELLY ( original character )

" some days ye go to bed, wonderin' what t'morrow might bring. others, ye regret ever rollin' outta yer bed. life's a bitch."

was once the local 'handyman' in town for his unhealthy interest in machinery and engineering.

earned the nickname "scrap" for their obscene collection of used, worn and thrown out parts from varying things. junkyards are a treasure trove -- and life saver.

especially when you witness the entire world as you know it fall apart after one unforgettable news broadcast, and you have to replace an arm on top of it all.

as far as he's aware, he's the only human left to give a damn within a world littered in twisted limbs and maws.

that's fine, though. the hallucinations its brought him are something of a small comfort in his day to day.

smoking and old movies on vhs also help take the edge off, but they don't usually talk back. a shame.

nonbinary and autistic, but the world's ending so who has time for that--

( app ) , ( stats ) , ( rules ) , ( room )

[occultacarne]

Sebastian had been watching. Not in sight, but behind the shadows. He found himself intrigued with the other. Speaking to no one around him, moving as if he were somewhere else but here. It was as if he were in a dreamworld. It was in the eyes, something Sebastian was familiar with. Not with himself, but he has seen it in Claudia before he killed her. Illusions were a scary thing. Seeing things that aren't there made you easy prey.

Eventually, Sebastian makes himself known by stepping just a bit out of the shadows. He's putting the other to test. By the looks of it, the being passes. The gun is held out, aimed at Sebastian.

"..."

And then, he realizes that whatever Sebastian was, it was not it. "Quite the contrary," Sebastian answers. His tone was curious. "Who did you think I was? Or what?"

[machinah]

this man presents him with a question, one august does not yet answer.

although reality has sept in august's eyes remain distant -- fixated on this newfound individual. the breaking point of his illusionary veil, and a key in birthing a new set of possibilities august would have preferred to ignore.

in this place -- in a world still impregnated with living, breathing people -- what could happen if he continues believing what he sees? what would he manage to steal away if left to blindly follow falsities he knew were never there, all for a selfish want to remember. with that thought, he takes a breath and, then, slowly expels it.

"it doesn't matter what i thought." those words are repeated in a voice more certain; grounded. he can see a bit clearer, now.

eventually, their arm hangs at their side. eased but far from relaxed, index placed at the triggers side. these bullets -- sorry excuse as they were -- had no right being released on a man untainted. the nightmare he followed held no existence here, no place. other than within their memories and dreams.

"you've not been touched, so no shots need firin'. " quietly, metal digits whine as they tighten their grasp. "... i'd not have thought twice if ye had been."

[thiefandlyre]

@machinah

Octavo finds himself at the pier, leaning on the fence and looking out across the water. Did anything lie on the other side of the ocean, or was this place and its peripherals all there was? He'd brought his guitar, but he doesn't feel like busking. He'd need to get another job soon. Supposedly there was a way for people to give him money with their devices, but he isn't sure how.

One way or another he'd manage, but... it was going so well...

He should have known it wouldn't last. Nothing ever did.

Someone's joined him, sitting on the bench beside. Octavo looks over. A man with... cat ears?

"Excuse me, do you..." No, he can't even say it without getting choked up. Octavo looks away again, taking a shaky breath.

[machinah]

lips part with a passing sigh, back easing into their taken seat. passing waves accompany the nights breeze, ruffling fur and bringing ears into a light series of flicks to alleviate the tickle it brought. something so simple, so peaceful, still felt like a regained memory. regardless of how long it's been since arriving.

after a moment of simply existing in this passing hour does august reach into his pocket. fingers lingering once finding his desired item, allowing his thumb a few, quick passes over its spark wheel. then, once satisfied, he pulls it free -- flicking the wheel a few times more until sparks become a flame.

now, they just needed something to light--

"mm...?" worn violets glance up, finally taking full notice of another's presence. one they had overlooked when procuring this bench. an awful habit they've started to form here; forgetting life still occupies this city. "do i... what."

august gives pause after, gaze falling down to his lighter. staring, he lets the flame die before lowering the hand holding it, eyes returning to the other. "can always move elsewhere if it'll bother ye." smoking, he means. "got some problems of yer own, by the looks of it."

[inboxideas]

Send me "Librarian!" + a number and I'll grab the closest book, flip to that page number, and make us a starter using a random line of text from said page!

[machinah]

"hey, don't run off on me, now. y'know that's not a good idea."

as per usual, all he's offered is a giggle and a chirped ' okay! ' before she skips off, regardless. he can't help but watch her retreating form, a puff of air expelled in -- what was suppose to be -- some kind of laugh, an ache nestled between his ribcage as he did so.

one would think, surrounded by living, bustling people again that he wouldn't find much comfort in these imaginative waves. watching, and listening, to what he knows is no longer there. he took care of that himself.

...but, yet, certain words now buzzed around in his head. permanent death is impossible here. what exactly that meant, he wasn't certain, but it had the mind grasping at straws -- chasing its momentary relapses into lingering delusions. what if, by some chance, she could--

... oh. they'd lost sight of her.

"oh, bug... y'can't be doin' this ta me, again." ( she wasn't real. ) which way had they last seen her? down the street, to the right, wasn't it? ( she was never there. ) without a second thought, on impulse alone, august traced the girls pathing. the buildings around them growing darker, the street becoming narrow.

he couldn't recall other parts of the ward being quite this rundown; dilapidated and withered. was it not so lively just moments ago? there had been footsteps and chatter, glancing eyes and lit windows. yet, now, each step drew him further away. chest growing tight, breathing barely a second thought.

it's not until a silhouette shrouds his view, a fierceness sharpening a hardened gaze towards it. metal finds purchase of the gun within his waistband, tugging it free; index thrown against the trigger -- he doesn't fire. in a blink he's aware of voices, again. footsteps and life.

...and his sights set on a man, not twisted beast in view.

"... oh," they breathe, voice barely above a whisper. "oh." they repeat, again, easing out their rigid stance. "sorry, i thought-- ... doesn't matter what i thought. this wasn't meant for ye."

( @occultacarne )

[machinah]

how was one supposed to feel about this?

dogs, as natural in behavior as could ever be, yet without a head proper to what they're known for. no ears to perk with curious excitement, large and observant eyes missing from where they were expected. it was almost unnerving to see the wag of that bushy tail, yet there was no panting or bark to accompany the bounding paws that slapped the ground before him.

the creature leapt and bent down, stretching in a typical dog-like greeting, leaving august to stare; blinking down at that brightened screen it wore. slowly, he kneeled down to be on an equal level.

"hey, girl." gloved hand extended, he waited for permission to scratch at what fur he could reach. a patch just below the neck, fingers working their way to the side. it seemed to enjoy it if tail and tapping paws were anything to go by. had a smile slowly etching upon the mechanics face, right up until he made the mistake of curiously reaching for that bright screen. even just brushing the corner had the dog pulling back.

" 's a no then, is it? should'a figured." a pause, "where are ye rushin' off ta?"

as if august had become like old news, the tablet-headed pooch bounded away to another. not so much as sparing the man a glance of a goodbye, leaving him, instead, to turn his attention to its new human of choice.

"seems a wee bit picky, don't it."

( @infiernogarde )

[machinah]

breath falls in the sound of a soft grunt, barely masking the chitter of twisting screws. steadied hand works to angle and realign their tool, brass digits clacking against their screwdrivers grip every few turns. once, twice -- it turns to a stiffening halt once the screw is secured, tool set beside august on their bench.

further beside sits a small cardboard box, its contents disturbed by a rummaging hand. before long, a barrel and spring are retrieved and he sets to work on applying them to the frame he's been tinkering with. pieces slide and click into their places, carefully adjusting each part until satisfied.

once he can top it off with its slide does he extend an arm, testing his weapons newly added weight in false aim. face scrunches with mild dissatisfaction as the bb gun is pulled back, reaching for its clip of pellets. that alone was unsatisfying, having what was essentially a toy in place of a proper firearm... but he could make it work. he could make plenty of things work.

loaded and ready, august, again, takes aim. the adjustment of ammunition feeling promising enough, but he finds himself pausing. a face lined with his sight, causing a momentary freeze.

"... got yerself in the wrong place, wrong time." hearing himself speak, he eased his weapon back down against a thigh. "it's been nothin' but quiet come my way, i wasn't expectin' another mug to crop up. sorry for makin' ye a target -- for a second."

( @amoirsetpacis )

[indomitableblackdragon]

"I had my doubts when someone told me 'bout it at first. I mean it's pretty easy to start touting your the best in something when everyone else says it." NJ said before holding out her hand to the individual, almost as if to offer them the "gift" of the candy container to buy and try for themselves.

"But damn I'm glad I tried it out. Some of best flavors in there and you don't even have to dig deep to get to 'em. Mighty fine deal if you ask me. Wanna share them with me if I buy one? I'll make sure to give you all the ones you'd like."

[machinah]

there's a flick of the ear as he looks down to the offered hand. less offered and more bestowed upon him, there's a shifting glance from it, to the woman holding it out, then back again. then, carefully, a hand extends to take what she offered him.

it's funny. he hadn't put much thought into how the candy would actually taste, or if he'd even truly want it. however, it has been quite a while since hearing someone talk up a sweet enough to pique his interest. even if only by a small margin.

"sounds like a fair find." fingers close around the container, concluding his observation of it with a subtle nod, "alright, yeah. we can share it."

"have as much of it as ye want, i don' mind pickin' at what's left. just a wee condition on the sharin' part," once more, the candy container is lifted and given a small shake. "i get ta keep the box when all's said an' done."

[hollowfaith]

Aurelius shakes his head, but then goes on to say, "That's only because I'm interested in you."

"I don't waste time on people not worth knowing. You're agreeable and even-tempered so far, which is quite welcome. I'm sorry that your chickens are normal-sized."

Or maybe not. With less of a connection to Dar'khol, maybe he could actually speak to this cat on his own terms without the Warrior of Light yapping his way in between them.

"In any case, the details of the island can be overwhelming if it's your first time. I don't intend to add to your difficulties," the angel goes on. "I would like you to see me as a source of help, or perhaps a place to ask any questions. If you drop by the church next time, perhaps we'll meet again."

He slips a hand into his pocket before presenting August with a black-and-gold business card.

"This is my office. It's very good to meet you."

[machinah]

"interested...?"

word is spoken with more uncertainty than august would have cared for, but it was hard not to let the single worded question go unspoken. he'd not done much to gain attention before first walking in here. now, he'd managed to attract someone with a budding interest simply for the way august carried himself throughout their first introduction.

most were only impressed after witnessing him work; seeing his skills in motion and knowing he was worth more than the silent stares and odd mannerisms exhibited. it was unclear if he should feel complimented by this or not, unsure of what level such interest even sat on.

absently, august's mouth opens -- as though he wished to add something, but no words managed to convey what he wanted. jaw clenches shut, again, as he shifts to address the card handed to him. gloved fingers reach for the small, cardboard slip, glancing over the title and information printed onto it.

"a clinic," they repeat, voice hushed in repetition of what was read. "so, a holy man and a doctor, yeah? no wonder yer offerin' help."

( . . . )

head turns from the card, glancing over to the unoccupied spot beside him. as though glancing at someone who wasn't there, gauging for their approval before turning back to the card, then aurelius.

"...right. likewise." sure. "chances of crossin' paths might be higher, knowin' there's even a church to return ta." with that, he shifts his weight, pulling himself up and off the pew. a hand idly swinging to that empty spot to nudge what wasn't there.

"s'pose i'll let ye know if i find yer 'darkhole' next time." granted, they weren't entirely sure what to make of that situation, either.

[noirdetectiveagency]

what is a detective without a cig? he needs it for enrichment. trust. @machinah

♠ It has been a whole 24 hours - maybe even more - since his last cigarette. The quite unpleasant surprise as he reached for his coat pocket only to find a box of cigarette shaped candies had put him on edge, feeling that someone had played a cruel prank on him. Luckily he wasn’t too dependent on them since Anubis was able to manifest himself at all times now beside him, but still, it had become a compulsive habit he couldn’t live without anymore.

“This is a good opportunity to let go of them,” the jackal had said at that moment. Despite the necessity for it, he had never agreed with the detective picking up that habit. Not the least because the smell of wet dog and nicotine usually drove people away.

And since the city was still unfamiliar to him, he had walked by different stores in hope to pick up a package, but with little success; also because he didn’t quite know how to use the phone he was given to pay for a pack. The longer his cold-turkey streak went on, the more agitated he grew, frowning, pacing, fidgeting with his lighter nervously. “Maybe you can pick up a new habit to compensate for it?” Anubis spoke as he was sitting down to scratch himself behind his ear.

“I need them, Anubis. One more minute and I will- hey!” Noir turned away from his companion, spotting a person from across the street and without looking left or right before crossing the road ran over to them. “Hey, pal, you over there! You don’t happen to have a smoke on ya by any chance?”

[machinah]

( those aren't good for you... )

how often had they heard those words? a warning that fell on deaf ears again and again, no matter how well meant they were given. once started it was never going to be an easy habit to break. more so now than ever before, and they weren't in any mood to try and quit now.

instead, the warning is replaced with the click of a lighter. once, twice, thrice. then, finally, a fourth and final click, flame sparking to life and held in view. the soft orange glow of the ember is met with the unlit head of a cigarette trapped between pursed lips. sucking in a breath, the paper lights and august is left exhaling a heavy cloud, along with a murmured, "i know."

not long after a second drag had been taken, ears are flicking and shifting towards towards an approaching voice. as if on cue, the precious voice heard faded back to memory, allowing reality its proper place.

august offers a lingering stare in place of an answer for a few seconds too long, eyes drifting down to his own lit cigarette in hand. " 'spose i do," comes his response, cigarette lifted back up and held within his mouth to free up his hands. a moment of poking around in a pocket later, a pack is pulled. its cover flipped open and the packet given a few taps against an open palm to loosen the bundle.

"given ye don't hate a bit o' mint with yer ash."

he preferred them flavored, after all. not to everyone's liking, unfortunately, but it's what he had to offer and he held no qualms with sharing. felt nice to, frankly. "though, if yer askin', i'm assumin' ye could use a fix."

[machinah]

PICK A POKEMON TEAM FOR YOUR MUSE

[fatalmenace]

"Whoever this new roommate is, i hope you know what you're doing."

[machinah]

"if it's stickin' to me own devices, i'm a ways ahead of ye."

[hollowfaith]

"If weapons worked that well, he'd be nothing but holes but now," Aurelius grimaces into a forced smile. "Even without immortality, permanent death is impossible here. I suppose you're new if you've never considered that problem."

"...then I also take it the name 'Dar'khol' means nothing to you? Perhaps you hail from the same world."

Aurelius thinks he's been standing long enough, so he settles for sitting in the pew next to August. It gives him a better of the other's face, anyways. "Though you don't have the same kind of markings he does, and your accents are different. He's also more energetic, more...temperamental. I'm sure if he'd try to befriend you if he knew you existed."

He pauses to think, then tries again.

"What about chickens? Are those birds very large in your world?"

He still kept tabs on one Warrior of Light despite them never talking. Seeing him fuss over an overgrown, flaming-red mess of poultry one day had been one of the more questionable sights. Aurelius kept waiting to see if Dar would ever roast the creature, but it seemed like they were companions instead.

[machinah]

... what was he on about?

august hardly had much time to fully grow accustomed to his new living situation, let alone being spoiled by a city full of life again. now, under god's own roof, he's being spoken too about demons and the absence of death.

if not for the sound of metal against wood, he might not have realized how far his prosthetic fingers had begun to dig into his seat. remaining seated here was growing difficult, now.

"is that who ye were expectin' before, this 'darkhole'?" what an unfortunate name, that. one that failed to ring a single bell. though it would seem they held some sort of similarity, if this man's questioning and mistaken approach are anything to go by.

"never heard of 'em." a pause of his own, "doubt they know an august, either." he'd never given a proper introduction of his own, after aurelius' had. that's as close as he'd get. "... i try an' steer clear of da more. excitable. again, sorry i'm not who ye were expectin'. i guess."

there's a passing glance at aurelius' person, taking note of where he sat and what space remained between. an inch or two before pressing against his personal bubble, perhaps, but enough to have august considering the door. he'd been offered assistance earlier, now he finds himself in a miniature interrogation of sorts.

with questions only growing odder, it would seem.

"they're... chicken sized." whatever amount remained uninfected, anyhow. "i don't really see where yer goin' wit' this. ye already determined i'm a newcomer, is this what ye all do with that information? pepper us wit' questions?"

[hollowfaith]

It's not his cat.

Aurelius pauses to study the (extremely real) furry ears above the markings-free, exhausted-looking face (finally, someone to rival Vanth with his eyebags), then glances innocuously (but all-too-obviously) at the base of the stranger's back, looking for any sign of a tail.

It's either very short or hidden too well, because he finds no fluffy appendage poking out from beneath the layers.

"Apololgies," he stutters out instead, and the hand on the shoulder pats the man in reassurance before reluctantly drawing back. "I am Aurelius Vane-Tempest. You don't have any siblings, or relatives with—with ears?" he tries.

"...at any rate, seeing as you've entered a house of God, I assume you've come to seek guidance. May I assist you in any way?"

How nice it was to find another stray of the fluffy description.

"Recently a demon's been prowling these establishments with unclear intentions. I am here to ensure that he does not ensnare any more unsuspecting souls."

[machinah]

beneath furrowing brows does august's gaze shift. staring upward, at first, then following the others eyes towards his back, lips pursing all the while. he couldn't catch the same view, could barely reach an understanding of what it was the other was looking for upon his person. there wasn't anything to enjoy from being stared down at like this, that's for certain.

the question that follows aurelius' apology only has the mechanic squinting back in his direction, a subtle twitch sparking atop his head.

"family, and most i know, had ears. yeah. yerself included."

strange question. stranger individual.

guidance, huh? "somethin' like that," they mumbled, attention directed towards the front of house. glancing over the podium that stood at the end of the aisle, reaching the stained glass that sat behind it all. "can't say t'ere's much ta assist with. 's all said an' done."

silence lingers once they've spoken, seemingly lost in their chosen view. but they still hear him, ears twisting to keep some level of focus on that voice beside him. it doesn't take long before the air around them feels dense; cold, almost. that level of safety they were basking in moments ago almost slipping through their fingers at such news.

"... well aimed shot will ensure da bastard doesn't do a t'ing. problem solved."

[machinah]

they weren't certain on when, exactly, their breath had been held, only that they were exhaling a deep breath the moment the game screen paused. instinctively, their finger moves to sit beside the trigger of their controller, the fake gun lowered from the screen.

ears twitch at a voice beside him, a few blinks following a confused stare as august finally sank into reality. right, he had a partner for this particular arcade game. seems he'd upset them with how high is score had gotten, being accused of cheating in the process.

"cheater, 'course. like it's my fault yer aim's shite."

after spitting what colorful comebacks they could, his player two stormed off, leaving august with a paused game and an eventual countdown. a shame, he was enjoying the nostalgia of it all. ah, but maybe--

"hey," a tilted head, gaze fixed on a potential candidate, "ye any good at these?" ( @hallowedpurple )

[machinah]

bronze fingers clack against hardened plastic, plucking a small candy container from its shelf. although his eyes stare towards his palm, august barely acknowledges the label. instead, listening to the light rattle of candy-coated pellets within as it shifts in his grasp.

in their place he wonders what could fit; what such a shape might be good at holding. after a moment, august places the container back where he found it, opting to pull at a different one. or, he was about to.

someone beat him to it.

"... a good flavor, i take it?" assumed, rather, with that level of excitement. whether it was for the candy in question or simply the mood she brought into the store, they couldn't tell. ( @indomitableblackdragon )

[hollowfaith]

@machinah ໒꒱

Churches are his favorite places to visit—not only for the peace, but the pious believers he meets along the way. It is far more likely to encounter the devout here and sometimes catch their prayers. If Aurelius is in the right mood, he helps those that he can hear.

It is a rare thing, however, especially when they're praying to other gods in the first place.

More often, he finds a place to sit in the pews and talk to God himself. It is perhaps the closest he'll get to Heaven in this place. Surprisingly, today he happens upon a familiar silhouette sitting in one of the benches. Aurelius's feelings about Dar are mixed—the last time they'd talked, he'd been a plush toy—and before that, fighting in the skies. Perhaps the memories from those times are still strong, because the angel hardly stops to ascertain whether he's gotten the right cat before he steps up to rest a hand on the other's shoulder.

"I'm surprised you came of your own accord."

"Is this a sign you're turning over a new leaf? I would be happy to facilitate the..."

And the angel trails off once he gets a good look at the stranger's face, expression turning into one of bewilderment.

"...who are you?"

[machinah]

churches were safe -- or they were suppose to be. a house of god and forgiveness; a refuge for those seeking a welcomed peace. it was what he was taught, what he wanted to believe. yet, after several years, this was the first time such teachings felt true.

august could scarcely remember the last time he stepped foot within such a blessed place, with expectations of warmth and quiet murmurs of prayer no less. memory only surfaced with dim lit halls, wood splintered and scattered, pillars decorated with coiled viscera and what he'd come to know as signs of the end.

god had left them, then.

but, here, there still remained -- what he wished to believe was -- hope. something more to cling to than mere fabrications of a mind struggling to remain his own; a mind still fighting to come to terms with where he was placed, to understand how it was meant to rest anywhere else. if it were to reach an agreement with itself, it was not here. instead, his mind ( as well as the rest of him ) had grown tense, and still. barely allowed a second to regain its calm as eyes dart to his side.

"that's my question."

shoulders ease, slowly, once the words tumble from their lips. august's head begins to turn, just enough to view this stranger in an angle more comfortable. whoever this was, his touch felt real and his face was one unknown to him.

"whoever ye might be expectin', i'm not d'em. sorry."