Blubaron45

Steamtown: Blood and Gunpowder

Sorry for replying late. Was really busy this week.

Steamtown: Blood and Gunpowder

Mr. Finkerton

_{PLACE // Finkerton's Bar and Restaurant
TIME // Morning
|| Cool of the Day ||}

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Finkerton swerved his glass cup in a smooth and prudent manner, discreetly gazing down towards the walking crowd of townsfolk as they conformed themselves to the town market which lay only a block away through what the businessman could see from out the window of his room just on the second floor of his bar. Overhead, the crowd was all the more distorted the moment his eyes carefully followed towards the town center, a place he would have to visit as he made his way towards the train station which was probably eminent in its arrival. Finkerton was well suited for who was to arrive from the station, he wore a suit as black as ash, his blonde hair combed over. A man none other than the bareknuckle heavyweight champion, Alan Brucci, who had just finished his 63rd bout which had ended in a 47th round knockout.

Though for the time being until his arrival, Finkerton waited cautiously before awaiting a knock at his door that was soon to be eminent. Finkerton drank the shot of hard whisky with one gulp, leaving his empty glass cup atop his mahogany nightstand before leaving his room and into the office that lay behind his hard wooden door. Outside, his office, an organized work area which had a door that lead through into the hallway corridors that overlooked the bar outside though that wasn't where he was heading. Turning to his left, Finkerton abruptly shoved the wooden doors of his balcony open to make his presence known to all eyes that could be possibly watching him from outside the bar though was met with none.

Finkerton himself could admit that was a paranoid man, but such a man of his position must always needed to be. Taking a deep breath of the crisp morning air, the man carefully inspected the newly incoming revenue of strangers and townsfolk alike gather towards the ever growing cesspool that was the marketplace, a place where the scum and 'honest' folk alike were to gather on this day. It was the scum often lurked during the night, but today would be an exception, for it was Market Day for the town of Blackfinger - a time where men and women of every trade could take the moment the indulge in opportunism. Such was the case for Finkerton the proprietor who most certainly had the opportunity to make business ends meet, both honest and scummy. Having just received an influx of shipments for this special moment, the man was well prepared to conduct his business for the week.

Market Day was more of something that lasted perhaps a few days rather than just one, though this was it's first and upon examining the dissonant crowd just ahead of him, there was an unexpected knock at the door that shouldn't have happened this early. The blonde Mexican businessman walked towards the mahogany door, and saw the expected presence of his bodyguard just as he opened it. He was tall, fat, and copper-skinned with a beer belly that stuck out his wretched stomach. He was complemented with sharply thin eyebrows and black hair that was pulled back into a pony tail to expose his leathery face. It was his robust bodyguard Jorge, a man who stood by Finkerton's side since the death of his mother many years past. Finkerton gesticulated a welcome-in to the man before shutting the door behind him.

"I thought we'had discuss you bothering me after about exactly thirty minutes past the hour." Finkerton reminded him amiably after reaching for the bright golden stopwatch he purchased many years ago when he still making his way in the world.

"Perdón, pero tengo algo importante que quiero decir con usted." Jorge said, looking into Finkerton's now slightly disappointed face, thinking that informality was his mistake. The man never often never showed concern over his actions unless at the presence of his blonde companion. "Señor."

"And I thought you'd promise to work on your English." Finkerton replied, proving that it wasn't formality that the large man needed to be concerned about. "No need for petty formality, you are my good and rather kind companion. Now, what you do want that's worth molesting me about 4 minutes prior to your supposed arrival?" Finkerton said, looking again at his watch.

"I am sorry." Jorge replied, his accent notably present. "It is Campbell. He -uh." Finkerton raised both eyebrows, his chin tightly tucked at his throat as if to expect a struggling explanation as to why the man didn't keep his word though he knew exactly what he was going to say the moment Campbell was mentioned. The large man bit his lower lip and looked as if to forage through a dictionary of English words in his thick skull in a manner that were to explain the situation at hand. Yes, this is what Finkerton should've expected of a man who barely spoke English but nonetheless saw it as benevolent practice. Unfortunately, the man never bothered to learn English, but Finkerton insisted on it nonetheless. "The land he purchased from you. I am afraid is not satisfied." Finkerton chuckled, remembering yesterday night.

"Well, I wouldn't be either if I were to make deal with a conman while well past his sober." He added, half smiling through his crooked smile. "If you should kindly tell that cocksucker to fuck himself and to not pester to me about it anymore - I believe that would be a sufficient solution to your concern." Finkerton turned and casually leaned against his hard wooden desk that was his work area. "And that wasn't him who purchased the property. It was his young and fucking idiotic cousin, remember? If he should've anyone to confront, it would be him. The deal's been made and I'm afraid fuck up's can't be amended after a proper handshake." Finkerton reminded him.

"But sir, he tells me he would like to reconsider a counter offer."

"Which is?"

"He did not say." Replied Jorge who then proceeded to shrug his massive shoulders. Finkerton nodded and gesticulated as if to tell the large man to lead the way and proceeding his way outside and into the bar and below him. Finkerton could see the solemn look of the man he had suspicions of showing up the night after a certain transaction. He was a tall and pale man with dark black hair and dressed in formal brown formal attire, his sharp facial features making his facial expressions all the more predominant as looked at Finkerton through his clear blue eyes with contempt. Aside him, his olive-skinned wife dressed in a beautiful green dress that complemented her dark brown hair.

"Well, it's certainly nice to see you Frank!" He lied as he made his ways down the sturdy wooden stairs. "You and the wife certainly look well! Pleasant to see you both, hope you had a good morning?"

"I did not, but rather I've awoken to a nightmare upon realizing the transactions that were transpired as of last night." Frank said, trying to hold his subtle anger behind the projecting amity.

"Oh?" Finkerton replied, pretending not to know as he made his way down into the bar.

"Don't you fucking act like -" Frank Campbell snapped though was interrupted by an intruding tug of his smooth cooper-colored coat by his wife as if to remind her husband who exactly he was talking to. She looked up towards his husband with her brown eyes to which Frank then took a moment to clear his throat while Finkerton sassily then put both hands on his hips, leaning forward as if to listen to a child. "I believe you know what I'm referring to: The property purchased by my rather -em", he cleared his throat to look for a polite way of putting it, "naive younger cousin who I believe was not in his right mind as to make any decision at such a moment in both his life and what events that subsequently transpired as of last night."

"Oh, that." Finkerton smiled lifting his finger, obviously pretending to have just realized what the man was in fact referring to as he casually walked further down the stairs meeting Frank at eye level. "Well, you see: the property is now under that rather generous and prodigal cousin of yours, so I am to expect that if he were to have any complaints - he might've chosen to confront me instead." Finkerton explained, putting his hands in his smooth silk pockets. "I hope he is a man that is to both keep his word and deal with his own issues himself. Is he not?"

"A boy who is likely to make such rash decisions under the influence shouldn't be a man who is likely to make anything that could be considered a decision at all." Frank justified, his wife nodding her head in agreement.

"And yet the boy did exactly that." Finkerton reminded him. "I apologize if any of your cousins actions inconveniences you personally." The blonde businessman added, his sincerity obviously absent in his tone. "Though a drunken stupor of a transaction is still nonetheless a transaction, and that property five miles from town that I've sold to that very same cousin is now under the name of that very rather 'naive' cousin." Finkteron added. "Unless you're willing to sell me that property to which I believe I should have to consider before rashly buying it." Finkerton obviously referencing to Frank's cousin in an almost joking way as the man subtly began to grind his teeth behind his humorless face.

"The only thing I can offer is to match the real price of that property. It's worth no more than fifteen thousand rather than the twenty five you charged my cousin." Frank walked closer to Finkerton, his voice becoming all the more solemn as he approached. "Fifteen and no more. I should have the law at my side if you are bound to rebut." Campbell's tone became all the more accosting though Finkerton did not fret.

"Well, do that if you will. Harrow, who is likely to return in just another few moments or so from his humble voyage abroad, shall be more than likely to discuss any legal matters regarding the transaction last night between your cousin and I." Finkerton casually responded, Jorge began to step forward if any violence were to commence.

"And I implore you to reconsider when push comes to shove." Finkerton gritted his teeth though his eyes read desperation more than they did assertiveness and frustration and although most men could pity his situation, Finkerton did not.

"Well, consider it reconsidered..." Finkerton returned with a solemn look that erased his former amiable face thus giving his answer to the man. His tone was low and husky; aggressive as if to ward off a predator while Campbell could only return with a disdainful look of useless contempt. "Good day to you, Frank!" The proprietor's face then slowly conjured a sarcastic grin as Frank lowered his eyes while Finkerton walked haphazardly past him. "Take care of the Bar Carlos. Harris, you're with Jorge and I." He asked the bartenders, while exiting through the small doors of the almost empty bar aside Jorge while Harris followed behind them. Holding his belt to check his sidearm, Finkerton took a moment to breathe before walking through the dirt road with Jorge and Harris at his side towards their priority destination: The train stop. Though not before walking through the crowded marketplace that stood in their way.

F I N A L L Y - L I B E R A T E D

Agoston Gregory Szabó

^{"They say repetition is boring, yet that is literally all of history."
Theme(s): Armory, The Turing Test, What Have We Done To Each Other?}

_{B A S I C I N F O R M A T I O N}

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Full Name: Agoston Gregory Szabó

Nickname: The Wizard

Age: 63

Gender: Male

Height: 5'10"

Weight: 167 lbs

_{D E T A I L E D I N F O R M A T I O N}

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Faction: Mastermind

Rank: Victorian's Right-hand

Alma mater:

• Mathematics - University of Göttingen (both B.S. and M.S.), California Institute of Technology (PhD)
• Physics - University of Göttingen (both B.S. and M.S.), California Institute of Technology (PhD)
• Biochemistry - California Institute of Technology (both B.S. and M.S.)
• History - University of Göttingen (both B.S. and M.S.)
• Computer Science - California Institute of Technology (both B.S. and M.S.)

Appearance: This old professor is the epitome of most intelligent men. His messy hair and lanky appearance give of his status as such a man. He has an easily recognizable face. There is a look about him that's almost unforgettable; the sly smile and sparkling blue eyes that emit from him are often things that stick into a man's mind forever. Szabó consists of almost any other feature that would complement an old man with a look of reassurance and mellowness.

Inventory:

• A fine silk suit he always wears to
• A lab coat, only used during lab days.
• A Swiss Army Knife
• ELO2587 Pistol, never really used unless he is on some expedition.

_{O C C U P A T I O N A L I N F O R M A T I O N}

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Specialties:

• Knowledgeable mostly in mathematics
• Physics and Chemistry aficionado
• History/Psychology

_{P E R S O N A L}

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Reputation: Those who hear that name Szabó are often almost immediately brought to the picture of a goofy absent minded professor

Positive Traits:

• Intelligent
• Mindful
• Humorous

Negative Traits:

• Pretentious
• Cynical
• Lacks common sense - despite his intelligence, Agoston has a predisposition toward doing things that aren't socially acceptable as well as lacking a conscious when it comes to hasty decision making.

Quirks:

• Studying
• Long walks
• Spending time in solitude

Weaknesses:

• Socially inept
• Not a touchy-feely type - It's hard to rely on Agoston for your feelings and often seen as abrasive.
• Sometimes lets others take advantage of him.

Fears:

• The loss of his knowledge.
• The thought of infinity and nothingness - As a mathematician, Professor Szabó often spends time pondering and deriving mathematical theorems on his spare time though nothing else has ever interested and frightened him more than absolute zero and infinity.
• The inexplicable.
• The vastness of space and knowledge - Ties in to the thought of infinity.
• His own thoughts.

Secrets:

• When he was eleven, he murdered a child molester in self-defense.

Goals:

• To help preserve the knowledge of mankind.

_{P E R S O N A L I T Y}

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Agoston Gregory Szabó is practically everything you'd expect from an absent minded professor with a child's mind. Often spending time making corny jokes and laughing about them as if they were an hysterical and well-thought out jester entertaining a crowd. It's no wonder why he's seen as a goofy, odd man though is often seen as likable by anyone. His looks and charming behavior often gives off an aura of reassurance to those around him.

Though amiable, Szabó is anything but a social butterfly, often rather spending time in solitude than in the 'comfort' of a crowd. This a flaw the professor has come to accept for himself and many others around him do not both with emotional burdens though will still turn to him for advice as he is a psychologist as well after all. Nonetheless, Szabó could easily be described as a non-conformist, often not really caring to what people think about either his dusty appearance or his behavior. Szabó considers his anti-social behavior to one of the fueling powers for intelligence, as it helped him get this far anyway.

He is also by no surprise an intelligent man. After all: How else would he have such a position? Those who know him well are often capable of realizing that there are hardly any other people who would surpass his intellectual prowess, often not being capable of understanding what he sometimes is talking about and considering it to be obscure at times.

_{B I O G R A P H Y}

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Agoston Gregory Szabó was born in Budapest, Hungary on February 13, 1999 from a single mother who struggled through poverty in Józsefváros, a neighborhood which had a reputation of being a relic of history and a myriad of crime. There is to no doubt that the young Agoston grew up rough in comparison to other European university students, often growing up fighting among other children who themselves had a rough life. Agoston himself said he was never "truly bullied" but rather that he was "targeted", having to either defend either himself or his friends. Thus was the life of the young, soon-to-be professor. Fortunately, his mother Nora Szabó, was a naturally studious person and emphasized on the importance of his education, often pressuring him to strive to his best. Agoston believes to this day that his curiosity derives from the inheritance of his mother, but his intellectualism was nurtured by her.

At the age of five, Agoston was already noted for being intelligent as his reading level was at a fourth grade level and at the age of eight, it was already equivalent to a senior in high school. Being ahead of most students his own age made him the target to being picked on as Agoston spent time fending himself against bullies but also a myriad of friends. It was in the third grade when the fighting seized upon realizing that the young scientist was no push-over and thus the fights broke up almost altogether. At the age of nine, Agoston took an IQ test from MENSA to which he managed to score between the 155-160 range and it was from that moment that fourth grade would no longer be a good option for the young man. Agoston was then pushed to the fifth grade and was to be brought up another had it not been from his mother's intervention. Easily, the young boy could have been a child prodigy, a famous genius destined from birth to be a great mind to contribute to the world though for the sake of his social life, the mother forbade it and wanted Agoston to try a number of different things in life before coming to a decision.

Though the truth was so that her young son could grow up a normal life; having friends, - all to which were fond experiences that he would look on. All while the meantime, he progressed in school at an exponentially greater rate than his other classmates. At the age of twelve, what was left of his family moved to Manchester during the summer of 2010 in order to attend school. Knowing a bit of English already, Agoston had no issue fitting in and although he was in a foreign land, he was no stranger to conversation. Having little friends prior to him moving to Berlin already, the young man accepted his new home, even if he had feared he wouldn't before hand. In those few years of schooling, Agoston flourished into a normal teenager though younger than his peers, he was ultimately befriended by a handful of friends. Already he had a swell time in school, and took college math classes part time given he was almost light years ahead of his classmates. At the age of 16, Agoston graduated from high school equivalence in order to pursue his dreams even further.

Entering the intellectual life of a college student certainly was nerve racking for the young man, though would surly be mitigated on coming across similar like-minded individuals. Originally planning on majoring in Mathematics, Agoston then realized the diversity of education when taking other courses and already he was in love. Though pulling off multiple majors all before the age of 18 would be difficult, it was surly not the case for this motivated young man. Staying in school for several years helped him hone his intellectual prowess and already at the age of 22 had three masters degrees at Göttingen: Mathematics, Physics, and History. Agoston had succeeded in meeting the minimum requirements in what he wanted to do with his life. However, that again was not far enough for him when in 2023, the man had sold the show with his thesis paper when applying to a newer school and thus sold him entrance into the greatest technical school in the world: the California Institute of Technology.

This would later be as the professor described as the "height of his life" all the while his research and findings were becoming all the more popular in the science world. Being one of the most intelligent students in his previous campuses would surly make him stand out in this one. Though as time passed, humility had been obtained when Agoston was completely dumbfounded upon the realization of finding students who far-surpassed even him. For he had reeked the benefits of being profoundly intelligent without realizing that he was definitely not the most talented in academics. Nonetheless, he pursued his dreams and in 2025, Agoston had a myriad of degrees, three of which were STEM PhDs. Though after a few years passed, Agoston despite being well-liked throughout the academic world as a professor would later retire from such a job and search for something "un-ordinary" as he called it.

TRAPPIST-1 caught his attention, the thought of exploring into the depths of space was surly enough to satisfy his hunger to explore the outer reaches of intangible worlds. Since he had a child born from wedlock that had already had grown up to a be fine woman with a career that could make any other father proud, he didn't think twice before taking the job as essentially what he called a "librarian with a better paycheck". Though given time, the professor had been promoted to Victorian's Right-hand among the mastermind faction which had no other better qualities other than a few extra privileges that also included a better pay rate. Though there was something he loved about the job, the fact that despite the calamity that has struck mankind, he was one of few which would help preserve the highlights of mankind forever.

Adventures of the Blood Rose Irregulars

Been really busy with life, working on a collab right now.

Steamtown: Blood and Gunpowder

It's good to see the posts come in. I'll start writing mine up, just need to think of something interesting to say.

What Are You Listening To?

The pains of unrequited love, you can hear it in his voice. D:

Adventures of the Blood Rose Irregulars

Haven't forgotten either!

Fear me, for I am a man-child with no social skills!

@Lord Orgasmo

It's slang for, "I shitposted so hard that I literally gave myself autism."

Fear me, for I am a man-child with no social skills!

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