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Open Tales in a World of Steam

The Duke told him to leave before, they couldn't be seem together.
Chris was freaking out, what he just heard... changing the world...
He returned to the market, the sun was setting, soon the it would be nigh. He tried to calm down...Well, it didn't exactly helped the view of a crowd harassing a young man, Chris decided to stop that, after all he was a soldier, a peace guardian...But the way he did that... that would draw some serious attention.
He raised his energy gun and selected the option "Close-Fight", in that mode the gun would adapt to close range shootings, but unfortunately it was too loud, for that reason the model became unfamous along the guards. Pointing to the sky, he shot once. the crowd noises ceased.
"The young lady said it is her's. Why would she lie? I don't think she is a liar like you."
"Like me?" the woman said " do you think i'm lying?"
"You said the snake bit the kid, show me where" Chris said, suddenly the woman froze"So it wasn't a lie? Get out of here before a lock you in jail"
"Are you okay lady?" he looked around.
Two of princess guards looked at him. Chris froze. Princess guards. The princess. He looked at the young woman next to him Oh my...
The Duke words were to act normal, shoting at a close space and freezing suddenly when he saw the guards.
What a great way to look normal.
 
Peters caught onto the act quickly. He smiled, infinitely grateful. The crowd gave up on him and dispersed, though they still looked down on him as if he were some kind of disease.
He bowed his head to the woman and the officer in respect, a little baffled by the woman who had uttered falsehood. Had she called this upper class woman highness? He felt daft to not have realized it sooner.
"Thank ye," he said quietly, shaken by the protest, "a million times, thank ye. She's all I have."
 
Alya wiped her tears away slowly as she looked at the man beside her. She nodded before picking up the injured python off the ground and cradling it to her chest, "I am fine. Thank you, sir".

As she stood up she used one hand to fix the dirt off of the blue silks that made up her dress. Her guards moved to almost surround her again, pulling for their weapons until she stopped them. Alya looked to the mechanic in front of her bowing her head with a smile. She handed the snake back but not before giving it a small peck to the head, "it is not a problem but, you will have to let me come back and study her someday. She is quite a fine specimen for her species".
 
He raised his head in surprise, a great smile playing upon his lips.
"Of course," he agreed. He gave Turtledove a onceover, checking to make sure she was okay. Although she looked a little dazed, she was relatively unharmed. "Anything, my lady. I, erm, live a short while down from here in a workshop called Mechanical & Medical. If ye'd like, I can give ye the address?"
 
"That would be magnificent. I hope then next time we meet will not be under such bad circumstances," Alya hummed now using both hands to fix what was ruffled. She pulled out a cloth from her purse and fixed the make up that was messed up. Once she was is a presentable order, she curtsied with grace to the people she was talking to, "where are my manners. My name is Lady Alya Bolat Stragia of the Stragia empire. I humbly apologize for the scene I have just caused and hope that you are all I good health".

Her guards relaxed a little and stepped off, a small bit but kept their normal stance. She rolled her eyes at them and smiled at her company, "what is her name anyway? I don't believe it is my precious Snowflake".
 
Peters chuckled, resisting the urge to bow again under the knowledge that she was, indeed, royalty. He searched through the breast pocket of his shirt and retrieved a square rod of graphite and a scrap of paper. He wrote 206 Cambridge Drive in as legible writing as he could and handed it off to Alya.
"Such a pleasure, miss," he said, relaxing now that he knew the guards weren't going to come after him this time. "I am Eric Peters, and that is Turtledove. She's a carpet python."
 
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"The pleasure is all mine, Eric. She is beautiful and thank you for allowing me to lay my eyes on her," Alya smiled taking the paper and placing it inside her purse, she reached out to softly rub under the snake's chin. Her guards started to grow bored so the princess waved them away, they fidgeted for a moment before leaving when she gave them a displeased look. They walked away but kept close enough to protect their princess if needed, "you have two prosthetic eyes? They are quite beautiful, gold or silver would look better but they still hold a humble beauty in their own way".
 
He perked up a bit at her compliment.
"Brass was all I could afford," he replied earnestly. Turtledove had started to move again, much to Peters' pleasure. "They are of my invention, though. I was going blind and I doubt that I would be much good as a mechanic if I couldn't see what I was doing. You see, they connect straight to the optic nerve and send information back to the brain through electric shocks. It's all very simple, really."
Peters stopped himself there sheepishly, realizing that he might've been rambling or that Alya might not care about how the prosthetics' worked in the first place. He barely kept himself from flushing.
 
"Don't worry dear. I have a fair share of mechanical knowledge from one of my younger family members who has quite the interest in it. I have to admit though, my interests fall more into the non metal subjects such as Dove here," Alya laughed when the mechanic caught himself, her face gentle in nature as she watched both the man and snake in front of her. She swept some of the hair that had gotten loose back into their usual place and adjusted the simple crown like band that poked out from the base of her bun, "if I am ever in the need of new eyes, I will now where to come".
 
Peters nodded, smiling briefly. "Zoology does have its nobilities. I've always been interested in the science of the human anatomy and clockwork, so I was in luck when the demand for prosthetics arose."
Turtledove had begun to wrap herself around his neck again. He wasn't worried about her strangling him as he had before.
 
"I have always been interest in what their thinking about, what makes them do what they do," Alya hummed as she relaxed her posture. She giggled a little bit when Eric allowed the snake to climb around his neck. She reached into her purse again and pulled out a gold ribbon that used to tie her hair back if it fell, and reached toward the python, "may I"?
 
"Both are very thought provoking reasons," he replied with a sidelong grin and bent his head so that Alya could better access the imposing reptile.
 
With a smile Alya tied to not to tightly on the serpent. Standing back to admire her handwork she placed her hands on her hips, a laugh leaving her lips, "there, now she looks like a proper lady. A very pretty proper lady".

Her guards seemed to relax and grow bored, two even wandering away, none really paying attention to who they were supposed to be. Alya took no notice of this as she relaxed her posture not caring about who saw her talking to the man.
 
((Regeron Princess Taken)
Name:Avery Regeron
Age:15
Gender:Female
Personality:Quiet,Protective of close ones,Nice when wants to and Greedy.

Looks:Blue eyes,4'2 height,Hip length White hair and a purple/white/Orange ribbon on the back of her head.
Outfits:Sleepwear:A red pair of pants and a Red Tank-top.Outside:light blue dress,white heels,purple ribbon or Navy dress,gold heels/white slippers,White ribbon.Formal:Long silk red dress,Blue heels,White ribbon or Orange-Red medium dress with yellow lacing,Orange ribbon,hair in bun.
Prosthestics: None
Abilities: Fighting,acrobatics,Singing and song writing.
Weapons: Dual daggers,Energy shield,Energy Blaster.
Rich or Poor:Rich,survives on wealth.
Profission:Heir of Regeron.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Avery sat up in her bed."Another morning in a wealthy home"She says to herself.
 
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"She looks lovely," Peters agreed, rubbing the flat of Turtledove's head with his thumb. She was staring up at the princess curiously, but turned her head upwards at his touch. "Dear me, I think her status quo is higher than mine," he joked, continuing to gently pet her head.
 
"I believe so. She seems to already know it as well," Alya smiled at the snake and her owner as she watched her surroundings, all of her guards lazing about now. The princess took out a small pocket watch from her purse and put it back. She frowned a little when she learned the time but smiled once again as to not worry the man she was talking with, "it seems I've been stood up. I was supposed to meet someone else but they have not arrived".

The girl pulled at the corset that graced her torso, it's silver and blue fabric squeezing her a little to tight. She coughed a little but smiled non the less, "hopefully I haven't ruined any of your plans with my blabbering".
 
"Not at all," Peters said politely. He wasn't sure if she had taken any recognition of his malfunctioning leg. He didn't mind; as long as it didn't fall apart on him. "I can't imagine anyone not wanting to be graced by your presence."
 
"Flattered, I really am," there was a soft gurgle that came from the princess. A blushed blossomed in her face as she pressed a hand to her stomach, the lady looking sheepish at the sound she made, "my apologies for that sound, I may have skipped lunch".
 
"I'm in no position to judge," said Peters. Turtledove rested her chin on the crook in his neck. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about."
 
"For one of my standing there is. It is not all glamour may I tell you," Alya smiled before titling her head to the side as she thought. Some of her hanging tresses falling in front of her eyes, "other than your eyes do you have any other prosthetics"?
 
"In fact-" He rolled up his pant leg to reveal the jammed leg replaced in all its glory. It, too, was brass and hand a glass screen with a keyhole indented in it for easy maintenance. "-I do. Lost the original to a fire, damn thing."
 
"That looks bad. Are you sure I'm not keeping you from fixing it," Alya asked her eyes flickering from the leg to its owner. Her face holding uncertainty as she looked at it, her shoulders slouching as she looked at all of the complex parts in amusement, "defiantly can't build something like that myself. I don't know how you do it".
 
"It's an easy fix, really. Only a minor inconvenience." Peters was intent on keeping Alya from feeling uncomfortable - It wasn't everyday he was recognized by royalty. Even so, Alya was much kinder to him than any of the upper class, or even middle class, that he'd come to face. "It starts with a lot of ideas, and a lot of drawing. I imagine the thing I'm building in my mind as I'm building it. It's, uh, hard to explain."
 
"It would be harder to explain court mannerisms than that. To many rules and manners," she hummed before noticing that her guards had gone or weren't doing their job. The princess let out a huff before as she rolled her eyes at them, "one minute not wanting to get off my back and the next could be caring less. So much a help they are".

"You're fidgeting. Is it me, I don't mean to scare you. I guess I have the affect on people," Alya asked her left arm moving up to hold her right elbow. The high lady's face softened as she didn't mean to make her company anxious.
 
"You must forgive me if I'm a little on edge," Peters said, flushing marginally. "My social skills are much more worn than my mechanical ones."
 
(Oh my god I missed so much)
"Darling, I'll be back later, I've realised I've left something in my dressing room. I'll see you soon." Sienna departed and headed the way she came.
 
"No forgiveness needed. My position usually has that effect on people and many don't see an interesting company when it's right in front of their faces," Alya smiled before turning to Sienna and nodding to acknowledge the other noble woman. She pulled out the pocket watch again and frowned at the time, "it's seem like I should be leaving before my parents grow to worried and send an army to come look. This was a very nice talk and I do hope you take care of yourself".
 
"Once again, such a pleasure to have met ye, Lady Stragia," Peters articulated meekly. He bowed and a confused Turtledove raised her head to look at Alya, her tongue snaking out from her mouth in farewell. "Long days and pleasant nights."
 
"Long days and pleasant nights," Alya smiled curtsing before turning and striding to where some of her guards were lazing about. The princess let out a big sigh before striding up to each of them one by one. She collected them all with some work before making her way to the south of the market and soon disappeared into the crowd with her armoured entourage.
 
Peters watched her go for a couple moments before laughing loftily. He shook his head, not quite believing the encounter had happened at all, and began staggering back to his shop.
 
Kayenne poked Elisa in the shoulder and motioned towards a dark alley. "Come on. I need to show you something. Cal, stay and keep guard here." She produced a pouch out of nowhere and pulled out a dagger studded with a few sapphires. "I took this from my family when I ran away. There's this legend about it that it's bewitched to keep whoever's holding it safe. Our family is said to be descended from the witch."
 
(I only hope I'm not joining an already dead RP. If I knew this existed sooner, I would've joined in a heartbeat.)

(Middle Class Citizen Claimed)

Name: Professor Miles Donovan
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Appearance: 5'6", average build, short, bright red hair and azure blue eyes, often wears a shirt and tie under a deep green trench coat with brass buttons, a matching green bowler hat with black trimming, black loafers, and a pair of glasses.
Hobbies: Reading about the history of the world, listening to music, fencing and self defense
Prosthetics: none
Abilities: Stunning tactical and historical knowledge, skilled in hand to hand combat or with handguns, has a vast short-term and long-term memory
Weapons: energy pistol and energy saber, 8 energy capsules. He also carries an old-fashioned pistol he found on one of his expeditions, but mostly as a lucky charm, as ammunition for it is scarce.
Rich or Poor: Middle, lives off his profession and occasionally the artifacts he sells to the museums. has enough money to get by, not enough to afford vast luxuries.
Profession: Professor at Blazia University, Archeologist/Historian
Personality: Miles Donovan is very mild mannered and polite, even to anyone who might be trying to kill him (it happens more often than you'd think). Even when being chased by bandits and rouges in the wastelands and ruins, he remains calm and calculating, planning out his every move beforehand. He also has somewhat of a sense of humor, often making jokes or puns whenever he sees the opportunity, and a love for the theatrics, often acting out historical events with his students to better interest them. Another quirk of his is his soft spot for sweets...and fear of doctors.

"And so, with their daring gamble paying off, the Blazian Air Force's airship, the Czar, successfully defended the western territory from invasion." Professor Miles said, concluding another of his famous lectures. His students scribbled down in their notebooks, finishing up their notes. "Alright, that's the end of class for today. You're all dismissed, and have a good afternoon." When the classroom was finally silent and empty, he let out a pained wince and rubbed his shoulder. A mechanical whir from the classroom's corner caught his attention, and he turned to the robot activating and looking over to him. It was massive, standing at seven feet tall with a bulky torso, but skinny legs. His eyes were simple lenses that gave off a bluish glow. "I'll be alright, Atlas." he assured his metal friend. The robot simply gave him an easily readable look of sarcastic concern. Even if the robot couldn't talk, Miles could always understand what it was "saying". "It's just a sting, okay?" Atlas's expression only slightly changed. "I AM NOT GOING TO THE CLINIC!" the professor shouted. The robot gave a look and gestured in mock surrender, then followed him out into the town streets.

As he strode through the streets, Atlas following behind him, he noticed Eric's staggering limp. "Are you okay over there, sir?" he asked, giving him a concerned look.
 
(I only hope I'm not joining an already dead RP. If I knew this existed sooner, I would've joined in a heartbeat.)

(Middle Class Citizen Claimed)

Name: Professor Miles Donovan
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Appearance: 5'6", average build, short, bright red hair and azure blue eyes, often wears a shirt and tie under a deep green trench coat with brass buttons, a matching green bowler hat with black trimming, black loafers, and a pair of glasses.
Hobbies: Reading about the history of the world, listening to music, fencing and self defense
Prosthetics: none
Abilities: Stunning tactical and historical knowledge, skilled in hand to hand combat or with handguns, has a vast short-term and long-term memory
Weapons: energy pistol and energy saber, 8 energy capsules. He also carries an old-fashioned pistol he found on one of his expeditions, but mostly as a lucky charm, as ammunition for it is scarce.
Rich or Poor: Middle, lives off his profession and occasionally the artifacts he sells to the museums. has enough money to get by, not enough to afford vast luxuries.
Profession: Professor at Blazia University, Archeologist/Historian
Personality: Miles Donovan is very mild mannered and polite, even to anyone who might be trying to kill him (it happens more often than you'd think). Even when being chased by bandits and rouges in the wastelands and ruins, he remains calm and calculating, planning out his every move beforehand. He also has somewhat of a sense of humor, often making jokes or puns whenever he sees the opportunity, and a love for the theatrics, often acting out historical events with his students to better interest them. Another quirk of his is his soft spot for sweets...and fear of doctors.

"And so, with their daring gamble paying off, the Blazian Air Force's airship, the Czar, successfully defended the western territory from invasion." Professor Miles said, concluding another of his famous lectures. His students scribbled down in their notebooks, finishing up their notes. "Alright, that's the end of class for today. You're all dismissed, and have a good afternoon." When the classroom was finally silent and empty, he let out a pained wince and rubbed his shoulder. A mechanical whir from the classroom's corner caught his attention, and he turned to the robot activating and looking over to him. It was massive, standing at seven feet tall with a bulky torso, but skinny legs. His eyes were simple lenses that gave off a bluish glow. "I'll be alright, Atlas." he assured his metal friend. The robot simply gave him an easily readable look of sarcastic concern. Even if the robot couldn't talk, Miles could always understand what it was "saying". "It's just a sting, okay?" Atlas's expression only slightly changed. "I AM NOT GOING TO THE CLINIC!" the professor shouted. The robot gave a look and gestured in mock surrender, then followed him out into the town streets.

As he strode through the streets, Atlas following behind him, he noticed Eric's staggering limp. "Are you okay over there, sir?" he asked, giving him a concerned look.
I think its dead. Sorry.
 
Name: Jack Anderson
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Hobbies: Parkour
Prosthetics: Left Hand
Abilities: Thieving and acrobatics
Weapons: Dual daggers, hidden dagger, and small energy gun. 5 energy capsules
Rich or Poor: About half way more to the poor side
Profession: Thieving and assassinating
Appearance: 6'11, ginger short hair, broad shoulders, average muscular, hazel eyes
Pet: Golden Eagle
 
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