race: Jenlyn | gender: trans man (he/him) | sexuality: heterosexual | age: 20 | engineer
Moss isn’t a witch, but on account of him being much more mechanically minded than most of the witches (and supposedly, is Providence’s nephew?), he stays on in the council building as a mechanic. He’s a good-natured sort who’s very laid-back; he’s grown up around the witches and is used to their harebrained adventures, and likes to take it all in stride with a good laugh.
He absolutely adores machines, and his favorite thing to do is fiddle with his beloved, built from scratch Recurve, basically a flying motorcycle without wheels. He and Aisling very quickly hit it off over their mutual love of machines, and their mutual awe over each other’s skills (Moss’s skill with Recurves, and Aisling’s in building her own prosthetic).
Excerpt below:
The young man pushing the hovering vehicle brightened immediately.
“You know about Recurves?” he said excitedly. “And you're close!! I modeled her after the Phoenix line; I've started calling her a Wyvern.”
“You modeled—did you build this from scratch?” Aisling said, feeling her eyes bulge.
“Yup! Collected her a piece at a time—poor girl has blown up on me more than once, but we're still learning.”
He patted it lovingly. Her curiosity briefly sated, Aisling finally took a glance at the man behind the machine.
He was her height, or perhaps a bit shorter if he wasn't wearing those shoes of his with the high soles, tied all the way up to the knee. He was brown like her, though a few shades lighter, with sparkling green eyes and a quick grin. His fern green hair was pulled back in a slick ponytail, goggles mussing up his bangs where they sat across the top of his head. His blue-green vest and shirt were both rumpled, probably from the wind from riding on the Recurve. Oh, Aisling thought suddenly. This must be Moss, the one with the workshop that she had borrowed the tools and parts from.
“I'm Aisling Fancy,” she said, holding out her hand.
“Moss Thicket!” the young man said with a flash of his teeth, gripping her hand back. “You must be the new witch! Everyone's been talking about it for weeks now.”
“Oh—really?” Aisling said. They had known she was coming for weeks? How? “Sorry, are you...not a witch?”
“Nah,” Moss said as he released her hand. “Most people in Clockwork City are, but there's a handful of us who aren't. I'm here on account of my uncle Providence.”
He winked towards Providence, and Aisling looked back over her shoulder to see Providence smile and nod. They were related? Somehow, Aisling couldn't quite see the resemblance, aside from a similar hair and skin color. Providence had a bit of a flatter face and a wider nose, his cheekbones at a different angle from Moss's. Still, she supposed there were always differences in families.
“I mostly make sure all the witchy things with parts keep moving,” Moss said. “Since no one else here is much for machines.”
He held up one hand perpendicular to his face in apology towards Early and Providence.
“Not that there's anything wrong with that!” he laughed. “Just stop trying to fix your heaters without my help.”
