[color=lightgray] [center][h1][color=goldenrod][b]Gears[/b][/color][/h1][/center] [center][img] https://i.imgur.com/HWP0qbL.gif[/img][/center] Interactions: Phia [@princess], Meiyu [@Tae], Val & Scratch [@Apex Sunburn] The bar was getting louder by the minute, and Gears was fairly sure her napkin-to-chaos ratio was officially unsustainable. Steam hissed softly from her arm vents as she tidied a corner of the bar that didn’t need tidying, just to give her hands something to do while Phia unleashed yet another round of wonderfully unique questions her way. She was really starting to take a liking to the girl; naivety and all. Phia’s next words hit with full force, though. [color=F97FCA]“You are… for war? You are a warrior? That’s why you have covered yourself in armor, Miss Gears!”[/color] Gears blinked. Slowly. She opened her mouth. Closed it. Considered. Then gave a little shrug and leaned a hip against the counter. [color=goldenrod]“Well, darlin’, I suppose you’re not wrong. I was built for war, sure enough. But I prefer pourin’ liquid peace these days.”[/color] She reached across the counter and gently set down a refill of water—mostly to make sure Phia was staying hydrated. [color=goldenrod]“And this armor?”[/color] Gears knocked on her own chestplate with a soft tink-tink. [color=goldenrod]“Came with the frame. Can’t take it off, not unless someone’s lookin’ to do some real invasive tinkerin’, and sugar, I’m not exactly a tea kettle.”[/color] Gears paused after the next words out of Phia’s mouth, just for a second. The noise of the bar faded around her, the clinking glasses and shouting voices softening under the weight of Phia’s words. [color=F97FCA]“You are a blessing upon us all, Miss Gears. Continue to be kind, and the spirits will favor you.”[/color] That one settled deep—right behind her reinforced plating, somewhere dusty and quiet she hadn’t touched in years. She didn’t say anything at first. Just reached for a clean towel and polished a spot on the counter that didn’t need polishing. Then, with a slow smile that reached her optics, she looked back at Phia. [color=goldenrod]“Well now... ain’t that the kindest thing anyone’s said to me in a long while,”[/color] she said, voice low and warm like a lullaby by lantern light. She leaned in a little, her tone turning to that gentle hush you use when handing someone something precious. [color=goldenrod]“Thank you, sweetheart. I’ll tuck that right next to my spark core where it’ll stay warm.”[/color] A smile bloomed, not performative or polished—just [i]real[/i]. [color=goldenrod]“Kindness don’t cost much, but it sure carries far. If the spirits are watchin’, I hope they see you first.”[/color] Before Gears or Phia could say more, a familiar tension crackled in the air. She didn’t have to look far to find the source. Her optics narrowed. The dragonborn bastard was still seated, but he’d made himself plenty known—and it hadn’t gone unnoticed. Several nearby patrons had already bristled. Some were stepping in. Her optics flicked once—up, past the crowd—and landed on the little girl sitting beside the man, blue-scaled and clutching a marble like it was a lifeline. Gears' jaw clenched just slightly, then relaxed. [color=goldenrod]“Count your blessings, you dumb bastard,”[/color] she muttered under her breath. [color=goldenrod]“If that kid weren’t watchin’, I’d have given you a real teachin’—one you could feel in your tail.”[/color] She made no move to step in. Not this time. Others were already making their opinions known of the man. And the star-skin girl—Ayra—well, she wasn’t alone. Gears exhaled a little puff of steam, cleared a few empty glasses, and let the moment settle. Though she had to admit, seeing her new friend Phia go from sweet as sugar to a force to be reckoned with like that in an instant was not only impressive, but it drew an urge in her to join in. Even now, a few years away from her last battle…that feeling bubbled just beneath the surface. That silent cry for her original purpose. Then came a new presence, and gear’s thoughts and feelings recalibrated back to normal. Smooth. Steady. Not loud—but somehow impossible to ignore. She turned just in time to catch the woman’s gaze—poised, unreadable, and sharp as a winter wind. Gears met it calmly. Respectfully. [color=7DBC89]“Something strong, when you have a moment,”[/color] the woman said. Gears gave her a slow nod and a soft smile, already reaching for the unlabeled bottle from under the counter—the one she reserved for customers who didn’t need to brag. [color=goldenrod]“Mmm. Say no more, sweetheart. I got just the thing for a lady who doesn’t waste words.”[/color] She poured with precision, slid the glass forward without a clink, and gave a subtle gesture of approval. The woman leaned against the bar like she belonged there, and Gears had no interest in challenging that. And then— [color=E579FF]“Hello, Miss Gears!”[/color] That voice. She’d know that voice in a crowd of hundreds. Gears turned to see [i]Vallena[/i] clambering up onto a stool like a squirrel on a mission. Her face immediately softened. There was something about Val that cracked through the morning’s weight like sunlight through shutters. [color=goldenrod]“Well hey there, sugar,”[/color] she said with a grin. [color=goldenrod]“You’re lookin’ bright as ever.”[/color] Then came the questions. Squeakiness. Stiffness. General discomfort. Gears held still, amused, letting Val finish her full checklist with all the seriousness of a field medic. When it was over, she tapped her chin thoughtfully. [color=goldenrod]“No stiffness,”[/color] she said playfully, rolling her shoulder. [color=goldenrod]“Joints feel smooth as churned butter.”[/color] [color=goldenrod]“No squeakiness,”[/color] she added, giving a little knee bounce. [color=goldenrod]“Though I think the popcorn machine behind me’s tryin’ to steal my thunder.”[/color] [color=goldenrod]“And as for discomfort—”[/color] she winked, [color=goldenrod]“not unless you count emotionally, sugar.”[/color] She gave Vallena a warm nod. [color=goldenrod]“You done good, hon. Looks like someone’s been payin’ attention to their lessons.”[/color] Then came Scratch—quiet, calm, pleasant…at least to her. He spoke without fuss, kept an eye on the room like he always did. Gears liked that about him. She never had to guess his angle. [color=goldenrod]“You tell the Captain I’m dry as driftwood and twice as sturdy,”[/color] she said easily. [color=goldenrod]“Rain didn’t do more than mess my shine.”[/color] Her optics shifted toward the gnome he had referred to as a hired hand. She gave a small shrug. [color=goldenrod]“As for the this fella—don’t get jealous, hon. The Gnome’s not here for a long time, just a good time I’d wager. He’s just a passenger who got a little too enamored with my [i]curvature.[/i]”[/color] The bar bustled, the clouds rolled on outside, and in her little corner of the sky, Gears kept everyone steady—one drink, one dry quip, and one warm smile at a time. [/color]