Pistons, Shafts, and Pressure Valves

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"Hey, Moira." Comes a man's voice. "You're sleepin' in the alley way again."
Moira groans as she opens her eyes. The light hurts as it floods in. She shields her eyes and blinks, letting herself get used to it. Even in the shade, the morning light is blinding. The familiar smell of freshly baked bread helps rouse her from her tired state though. She sits up and pushes herself back against the cold stone wall behind her. Looking to her left she sees the source of the voice - it's Barry, the innkeeper.
He's a huge man, uncommonly so for an elf, and he's the closest thing to a father figure she's ever had. He stands at the end of the alley way, a hand on his hip, the other dangling limply by his arm.
"You can't keep sleepin' out here." He says in his gruff voice. "All sorts out here at night, even now. And there ain't no police force can save ye if something goes wrong."
"Mornin' Barry." Moira responds, yawning, and not addressing his concern. "What're you doin' out so early?"
"We've decided to pack up." He sighs, looking at the entrance to his inn. "What with that damned Iron Legion moving in, we'd best be aff."
"Wuss."
Barry chuckles. "You've seen what they've done to the towns west o' here. They would no' even bother pillaging a wee village like this. They'll flatten us like we aren' even here."
"Not like I've got anywhere else to go." Moira says, staring down at her bare feet. She pulls a boot toward her, hugging it to her thigh.
"Stop feelin' so sorry for yourself, Moira. You're a clever girl, you'll figure somethin' out." Barry says, gesturing toward her to get up. "Get ahf that floor now, come on inside. The chairs are comfier in here." He adds, before clomping off toward the front door of his in. He leans back so he can see the young girl around the corner. "Get a move on you, it's gonta start rainin' soon." He adds, before walking in. The door slams shut a second or so once he's gone from Moira's view.

Moira sighs, picking up her boot and sliding her foot into it. She's had these leather boots a good year or so now, and they're starting to show their age. Uncomfortable and falling apart, but better than nothing. She picks up the other, tosses it into the air and catches it, then puts it on her other foot. She gazes out the alley at the now abandoned house.

Moira's known the town all her life. She was raised by her grandmother just two streets from where she's sat since she was but a wee girl. Ever since she passed, Moira's slept in just about every alley way on every street at least twice. Her poor attitude's gotten her kicked out of any hostels she'd ever stayed in, and her deftness has kept her out of every prison cell she'd been kept in. The police don't bother even locking her up any more - well, they wouldn't, if they were still here.

Moira wrests herself off the ground and stretches. Her gentle moans reverberate around the walls of the alley.  She turns around, yawns, and picks her bag up by the straps. She casts a look at her sleeping bag as if to suggest it's failed her again. She won't accept that falling asleep blind drunk on the floor is her fault - but at least this time she didn't wake up in an embarrassing puddle. She rubs her forehead in a vain effort to ward off her thumping headache. She runs her dry tongue over her teeth to make sure they're still all there. They are. Heaving her bag over her back, she makes her way into the inn.

"Hey hey Mister Barman!" She shouts as she steps in, letting the door clatter shut behind her. She rubs her forehead again, immediately regretting her choice of volume. "What's on the house today Harry?"
Barry looks up from behind the bar. The sight of the tiny girl staggering toward him like she had so many times before makes him smirk.
"God, it's quiet in here, ain't it?" Moira asks, stepping up to the bar. She steps on her tip-toes to get a look behind the bar. What was once a well stocked armoury of drinks of every variety sits practically bare, save a half full bottle of local Brandy, and a full bottle of ale.

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"Well we don't usually open at this time." Barry says, rubbing a glass clean behind the wooden bar. "But it don't really help tha' anyone wit' any sense left weeks ago."
"Hey, can I get a drink? I'm parched right now." Moira asks, looking around.
"You can have water." Barry says.
"Oh, come on Barold." Moira says, teasing. "Not even a wee bottle of ale?"
"No. It's six in the mornin' for one. And two, you can't pay for it."
"You don't know that" Moira says, leaning forward.
"Why, were you in me till again last night?" Barry asks, putting the glass down on the counter in front of him.
"No...Couldn't get in." Moira answers, avoiding eye-contact. "You've changed the locks again, haven' ye?"
Barry just laughs. "No, and neither has Mr Murphy across the road."
"I did think the door was a little different." Moira notes, trying not to grin.
"Not like you'd have got anything anyway." Barry says, leaning against the bar. "The wife left yesterday with the money and the kids, and I'll be joining them tonight."
"Where are ye headed?"
"Just up north tae Colhaven." Barry says. "Me brother lives up there, said he'd take us in."
"Can I join in?"
"I'd say yes, but you know what the missus thinks of ye." Barry reminds her. "She's had it out for you ever since you tried flirting with our boy."
"Oh yeah..."
"And our girl. And her. All at the same time. Before you threw up on most of them."
"I don't remember that bit."
"I'm surprised you remember any of it, quite frankly." Barry says. He steps back from the bar and passes a glass of water on the counter. "Here, you look like you could use it."
"Thanks." Moira says, leaning over and taking the glass in both hands, before gulping down half the glass. She rests it back down on the counter.
"Bit of an unfamiliar taste, tha', ain't it?"
"Yeah." Moira says with a smirk. "I'm gettin' hints of...wait for it...yeah, definitely hints o' nothin'."
"It's called water." Barry tells her. "Ever had it before?"
"I think maybe once or twice." Moira says with a smile. "I'm more of an ale girl, meself." She adds. Barry laughs.
"Here, you can have this." He says, tossing her the bottle of ale over the counter. She slaps it once, making it spin in the air, before catching it. "Didn't think you had it that time." Barry smirks.
"Like I'd drop the last bottle in town." Moira says with a smile. She bends down to pack it into her bag, then stands back up, taking another drink from her water.

 

"So what're your plans now?" Barry asks Moira, as he holds the door open. Moira steps toward the door.
"I'm not sure." She says, feeling a bit glum. "I've known Glasport me whole life...I don't know if I can jus' leave it behind."
"It's either that or try your chances with the Iron Legion." Barry says. He looks around his inn. The tables are clean, chairs tucked in nicely. He twists the small valve on the wall by the door, and the gas lights flicker out, leaving the hall in the dark, save the morning light coming through the windows.
"It's a shame, ain't it?" Moira says, stepping out into the familiar cobble-streets. "I'm gonna miss getting thrown out of that inn."
"Why not consider this one last time?" Barry says with a smirk. Moira smiles.
The two stand together, looking around the town together, one last time.
"I'd best be ahf then." Barry says. "What about you?"
"I suppose I'll have one last look around town." Moira says. "Someone's gotta have left somethin' behind, right?"
"I suppose." Barry says. He takes the key out his pocket and goes to lock the door.
"Oh, before you lock up, mind if I use the loo?" Moira asks.
"No more water." Barry says. "And I'd like to leave me inn clean, ya know? It's sentimental." He says, twisting the key. "I'm sure you'll figure something out, you usually do. I think the fountains your usual favourite, right?" He adds. Moira smirks.
"I'd best be making me move then." Barry says, picking up his own bag and slinging it on his back. He pulls the straps tight so it clings to his massive body. "Good luck, Moira."
"Thanks." Moira says. She can't think of what else to say, and there's a lump building in her throat. Barry puts a hand on her shoulder and smiles. Without another word he drops his hand and begins to walk off toward the station. Moira stands watching until he's out of view.

Moira coughs. She picks up her own bag. Best she make a move too, but she's unsure of what quite to do. The Iron Legion are rumoured to arrive this afternoon on the coast. She'd hear the rumours of their brutal conquests in the west, but she never really thought they'd ever reach Eirham. And now they were here. Still, no time to waste. What should she do?

1: Search the police armoury. Moira already has a revolver, but it never hurt to carry a little more. It's abandoned now, but if she's lucky, she might find some forgotten bullets lying around.

2: Search the tailors. Moira's shoes are practically threadbare, and a new shirt wouldn't hurt. Or would a few changes of clothes. If she's really lucky she might find a pair of underwear.

3: Loot the market. Food's always helpful, and there might be some left over in the market.

4: Search the bank. Moira, as usual, is very short on money. If she's lucky, she might find some in the bank.

While she considers what to do, Moira's bladder reminds her that she's not been in a while. What should she do about this?

A - Pee in the gutter. No around to stop her. Or arrest her.
B - Wait. Hold it. Shut up and put up. She can go later.

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[3] I'd choose the bank, but I'm not sure how currency works yet, and we already have a weapon and clothing. The market might get us some food for a while.

[A] The popular choice will probably be to hold it, but why not just take care of it now? Not like there's going to be repercussions.

 

 

 

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4 hours ago, EthanDaOmoWIz said:

I choose 4 and B, but it looks like my choice is hopelessly outnumbered

i like to make her a little more desperait before letting her pee

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2: Search the tailors. Moira's shoes are practically threadbare, and a new shirt wouldn't hurt. Or would a few changes of clothes. If she's really lucky she might find a pair of underwear.

B - Wait. Hold it. Shut up and put up. She can go later.

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Posted (edited)

3,B

Food is basic human survival.

Edited by Red Simpson

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2 B, we're gonna need new clothes first, and maybe if we don't waste time we'll be able to check other locations!

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11 hours ago, Pee-Pants1995 said:

3A

I do hope it's not too late but I change my option and choose 2A

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Moira decides that food's probably the most important thing to have.

Given the scenario, it's unlikely that the market will be open, which would make it a bit awkward for most people. Of course Moira isn't most people, and the empty market should be something of a welcoming sight. Adjusting her waistband so it sits higher on her hip, Moira decides to make her way to the market. She won't pee for now though - who knows how soon the Iron Legion will arrive? It's best to stock up first, and empty out later.

 

A last few stutters and coughs of smoke, and then silence. The boat's engine rests still. The rough hum of the engine is gone, replaced by the more serene sounds of the beach - Waves crashing, seagulls cawing, even the sound of the breeze drowning out the roar of the fleet so far behind her. She picks her helmet off the floor of the boat and puts it on her head, brushing her hair out of her eyes once she's done.
Finally, her first assignment as a scout for the Legion. She's waited her entire life for this moment - finally a chance to show her worth to the Legion. As the youngest of family of four, she's watched all her brothers make their ways into the ranks of the Legion, and now it was her turn. Her heart flutters with excitement. Her first time from away from her homeland, and on her own no less. Who knows what she might find. Eager to find out, she takes her first tentative step out of the boat.

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The sand crunches beneath her boot. Charlotte sighs in disappointment - she'd heard such wild stories of the world outside the Iron empire's borders - stories of lush jungles, vast swamps, and strange foreign savages. To step on sand so similar to the beaches at home was a bit disappointing. Still, perhaps it's for the best. She's only nineteen after all, and a strange world might be too much for the young girl. Looking up from the beach she can see a small town, barely even the size of a district would have been back home in the city of Greatforge. What kind of people would live in such a small town? It's strange to consider that people could ever live somewhere so open, without the towering chimneys overhead, with out the thick smog softening the harsh sun. Charlotte takes in a deep breath, and begins her short walk toward the village.

"Nothing." Moira groans, sliding back out the window sill. "Did the feckers take all the food with them? Greedy gits..." She grumbles. She walks to the next house.
It's odd, walking around so freely, leaning in and out of windows of the town center, once bustling with people. Now the streets are bare, and the shelves match. The only real benefit to Moira can see is that most of the doors aren't so much as locked now that everyone's fled. If only they could have been so careless when they were still around. Although Moira was most of the reason they weren't.

"What a strange place..." Charlotte thinks out loud. A walk around the town doesn't reveal so much as a forge, never mind a manufactory. What blacksmith she could find was barely more than a furnace and anvil. Most of the building appeared to be shops or houses - shops that sold food no less. No food distribution company like back home in Greatforge. She pulls her notepad back out of her side-bag and jots down some more notes about the town. 'empty...backwards...smokeless air is starting to making me feel a little sick'. She smiles as she slides her note pad back into the bag. She's only filled half the sheet of paper with notes, but she's certain that she's already written down everything there is to know about the place. But just to be sure, Charlotte decides to keep looking around - there has to be something of note here.

"Jackpot!" Moira whispers, gazing through the window of the old greengrocers. Putting both hands beneath the wooden slat, she pushes up the window. For once, it's not locked shut, and it slides open without any hassle. A single apple sits on the table inside. Pushing herself in as far as she can without falling in, she swipes for the apple as best she can. She pushes against the wall beneath her and kicks her leg up, trying to get a better reach. So close..so close she can almost-

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Clang!
"Oh, bother!" Charlotte exclaims. First her notepad, now her helmet - what else was she going to drop? "Such language, Charlotte!" She says to herself, standing up again and adjusting her helmet. "What would mother think?". She looks around the town. It's still empty. She gets a cheeky feeling rise inside her. 'If there's noone around...I may say what I want!' she thinks. She clutches her note pad to her chest and takes a deep breath.
"Sod!" She shouts. Immediately she grins like a child. "Bottom!" She adds with a laugh. She giggles on the spot, tapping her feet against the floor. To have such freedom to do as she pleases - with not a soul around!

"What's her deal?" Moira whispers to herself, hiding back behind the wall. Could she be from the legion? No, she couldn't be. The legion was meant to be an army of mechanical men, spewing smoke and fire wherever they went. Stories of giant walkers that could push over trees without effort, of carriages without horses, stories of horror and pain...and yet this was just a girl. Quite a ditzy girl at that - possibly mad. Should Moira go up to her? The large gun slung over the girls back looks dangerous. Perhaps Moira ought to have her own gun out first, to get the upper hand. Maybe even to disarm the girl. But what if she's friendly? Moira doubts someone friendly carries around a musket, wears an iron bucket on their head, and is surrounded by deadly rumours. How should she approach the girl - should she even approach?

A - Aggressively - Moira considers that the safest option would be to greet the girl from behind the barrel of her gun, and then to take the gun away from the girl. And maybe her boots too. And her hat. And bag. Or whatever she wanted really.

B - Calmly - Moira could always try saying hello. But if the rumours of the Legion are true, Moira might not say hello to anyone ever again.

C - Don't. Ignore the girl and begin leaving the town.

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B - Calmly - Moira could always try saying hello. But if the rumours of the Legion are true, Moira might not say hello to anyone ever again.

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