[center][h1][color=goldenrod][b]Gears[/b][/color][/h1][/center]
[center][img] https://i.imgur.com/HWP0qbL.gif[/img][/center]
Interactions: Mentions pretty much everyone at the bar. Interacts directly with Phia [@princess] 

[color=lightgray]

Steam puffed softly from Gears’ shoulder vents as she observed the growing circus around her bar.

One minute it was just the pretty pink-haired rock-trader and her frost-flavored protector, and now—

Well.

She blinked slowly as it all unfolded.

Wendel had appeared and was asking about mead. He was kind to her in a real way. A [i]good[/i] way.

Then, Bastion introduced himself. The name fit. Sturdy, soft-spoken, with a kind of quiet strength that didn’t need announcing. He stood a little apart from the others, like he didn’t quite know if he belonged. She knew that stance. Knew it deep.

For a moment, Gears just watched him.

Something about the way he carried himself… gentle, but reserved. Braced like someone always half-expecting to be called a weapon again.

She felt it in her chestplate. That old, hollow pang.

[color=goldenrod]He’s like me,[/color] she thought. [color=goldenrod]Not just Warforged—forged different.[/color]

The sight of him pulled at memories she kept boxed up and rusted over. Days she didn’t talk about. Orders barked. Friends fallen. The sting of knowing you were built for something you didn’t choose.

And yet...

Her optics softened slightly as he glanced her way, unsure. Kind. Too kind for something built for battle. 

That made two of them. 

Then…he complimented her movements…which was a new one, for sure. 

It was at that time that Bobi cannonballed into her chestplate and was now waxing poetic about her “plating curvature” like some kind of tiny, bearded pervert. A tiefling girl had been called filth by some self-righteous dick of a Dragonborn, and a squirrely red-headed girl yeeped herself off a barstool like a clumsy child.

It was a LOT.

Gears stared at nothing for a long second.

She tapped the bar once, twice. Then let out a slow, metallic sigh that said more than words ever could

Still, her hands were already moving. A warm cup of tea for Menzai here, a steaming bowl for the tiefling girl there. Mead for the Dwarf. The food Phia ordered, with a few veggies to make the wolfman happy but not enough to ruin he sweet girl’s meats. She even placed a fresh cloth near the fallen scarf-girl without saying a word…just in case she needed to clean herself off.

Then she heard it again.

That voice. Bright and airy.
[color=F97FCA]“Thank you, shiny one.”[/color]

Gears turned.

Phia was standing there, eyes wide and filled with earnest curiosity. She looked like she belonged on a festival float, not in a bar. The air around her practically jingled with magic and mischief.

[color=F97FCA]“Can you tell us your name? And what species you are?”[/color][i][color=F97FCA]“Are you a rock girl?”[/color][/i]

Gears blinked.

And for a moment, everything stilled.

Then she let out the gentlest little puff of a laugh. Almost motherly.

[color=goldenrod]“You are just too sweet, aren’t ya?”[/color]

She leaned her elbows on the bar, chin tipping slightly, voice dropping to a softer tone.

[color=goldenrod]“I’m Gears, sugar. Just Gears. And I’m a Warforged, though if you wanna call me a rock girl, I’ll allow it. Ain’t the worst nickname I’ve earned.”[/color]

Her eyes—those warm cyan lights—softened a bit more.

[color=goldenrod]“And you must be Phia.”[/color] She nodded slightly toward Menzai, then back to the elf. [color=goldenrod]“He looks after you real careful. That says plenty good about you.”[/color]

She reached beneath the bar and came back with a simple pastry—a little twist of bread drizzled with sweet glaze. She set it in front of Phia with care.

[color=goldenrod]“Maybe this can make up for those yucky veggies, eh? And don’t you fret none about the coin just yet.”[/color]

Then, more gently, almost a whisper.

[color=goldenrod]“Also, do you mind if I ask you something sweetheart? You doin' alright? Sky this high can be a lot, especially on your first flight. Just takes some gettin' used to, is all.”[/color]

She didn’t push. Just let the words hang there like a warm blanket left nearby, waiting in case someone needed it.
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