Information

Maschine_805 has a minion!

the Steamworker

Maschine_805
Legacy Name: Maschine_805

The

Custom Steamwork Devonti
Owner: ~~Samurai~~

Age: 7 years, 11 months, 4 weeks

Born: April 6th, 2018

Adopted: 7 years, 11 months, 4 weeks ago

Adopted: April 6th, 2018

Statistics

Level: 53
Strength: 153
Defense: 75
Speed: 67
Health: 71
HP: 71/71
Intelligence: 259
Books Read: 257
Food Eaten: 1
Job: Metal Buffer

Komm, lass uns das Licht verstecken,
bevor jeder Stern nur ein Stein.
---
wip
last updated: 10/18/18

"The times were never easy". This phrase slowly creeped into the reality of each person during the Great Darkness.

Born in a farm in the outskirts of Woodbridge, it was a blessing to bask in the enveloping sunlight, even though it didn't came from the sun itself, but rather from a machine; which every home would have one, adapted to each one's needs. A decently sized farm would require complete refuelement twice or thrice a week. These farms became way more efficient due to the lack of space and less available natural resources - what eventually brought the farmers to choose variety over quantity.

Rounded by the root vegetables and pumpkin fields, our house would meld into the often foggy paisage; the dark framing concealed itself with ease into the darkness. A driveway surrounded by shy white flowers opened a long way up to the main road. Meanwhile, the dense clouding was less worse in not so populated regions, as we could still see some of the most persistent red reflexes of the sunset penetrating quietly through the weaker clouds and tinging them deep crimson for a few minutes before turning pitch black again.

Me and my siblings spent the free time running through the fields; breaking the stillness of the place. If not, then we'd help our parents with daily chores or some farm work - all fun in our childish minds. Mom was very dedicated into taking care of the crops, dad was mostly into the financial and management sides. Our childhood was quite normal, maybe even good by the time standards. At least one could say this until the Hawthorne started passing by more and more often. Inside one of those fancy big trucks, a young-looking man would stop near the house and bring a heavy feeling of insecurity. Stepping out of the vehicle, he'd signal he was there, and go foward to collect some soil samples. Then trouble came around the corner. He'd pressure both my parents, scream at them, and all I could was to walk away and deny all of this to myself... up to a point where our parents started to pour this pressure over us. Finding myself so unable to help, all of this situation progressively made me close in, and no matter how egoistic this might sound, all I wished was to simply walk away. My siblings tried to hold me back as much as they could, but as soon as I finished my last grade, I decided to move to the big city.

---

All of the bright neon lights ofuscated my inexperience at being by myself. I carried my briefcase filled with the few objects I couldn't get rid of - coins from trips my dad went when he was young, important books and a notebook I'd write once in a while.
My shadow was cast on the worn-out sidewalk, looking at a slightly soiled paper with the address of what would become my "new" apartment. A tall, soot darkened building, whose prices were more accessible due an increasing trend in the neighborhood: Car racing.

From the innerings of the apartment, you could see the most various tones of purple, blue and green silently creeping inside, matching with the blue walls and dark carpet [or was it dirty?]. Laying my briefcase over the simple drawer wardrobe, I unfold another piece of paper from my back pocket. Two happy workers and a bright, sun-covered building was depicted in it. There was the place I needed to go.

Special buses departed from certain points of the city in AE's direction at 6AM and 8:30AM, coming back at 5PM then 8PM. The main concern of the employees was each one's physical capabilities, as the machinery and manual work was very heavy. Soon after explaining the safety procedures and welcoming us, a happy looking distribution some papers with our sectors. "B312" was written with red letters.

---

Years have passed by and races became more frequent. Leaving my apartment, the music and the screeching of the tires becomes louder. "Huh... why won't they race in hell...?" I mumbled to myself while assuring the bag I carried with myself was safe from any smartass thief. Inside the bag, I brought my ol' reliable gun. This night I planned to visit the top of an abandoned factory to train a bit more. Such activity was seen as criminal, since it was linked to violent factions and such, but I always have done it by myself or with a couple friends. I knew this time would be special, everything wo-
SCREEEEEEEEECH!
A random car almost invaded the sidewalk, stopping a meter away from me. Punching the car and following my way again, the insults coming from the driver seemed so distant...

[insert sold farm thing here]
Drowning in the dark night, the factory was nearby. I soon noticed that a random gang had taken over earlier this night. "Damnit..." I sighed to myself and turned back, heading to a familiar bar, the Smog Cutter. I sat on the usual table, facing the window. It was so full, it probably made slightly more irritated than before; hopefully my old seat was free so I could blend my mind with the city outside. I ordered the usual beer and some expensive fancy fries.
The sound of coins falling over the neighboring table catches my attention, money and a random ID spilled over it. The ID catched my attention - the first name was completely scratched; but the last name... it was still there. "Hawthorne" survived the depredation, and I just could wonder w- Would you mind your own business? - the girl sneered. I... Erm... - caught out of surprise I asked. Where did you get that ID?

[bar scene here]

I've stayed there for a longer while, finishing my drink and some snacks, but my mind was far away; thinking about other places where I could train. It was pretty disappointing to don't do as I planned for such a while. The midnight's unrestlessness of the city filled me, and the overthinking about the poster artist's fate wouldn't leave the back of my mind... So I took the last gulp and left, heading home. I felt this nostalgic feeling deep down, as if something was truely off.

---

Glancing at the usual debri, neon signs and overgrown plants, I counted the alleyways way home. Until something quite off caught my attention: A menacing shadow followed the now not-so-stranger, which made me question what the heckers she just got in.
"What should I do, what should I do..." I reflected rushedly, as I couldn't really ignore the fact that she wasn't just another person anymore.
Swallowing all and any feeling of doubt I went ahead, quietly unzippering my bag and [seeing if everything was ok with - preparing it br ] and I [held] it firmly while examining the situation - a thin dark path at the right side seemed the best option. Foot by foot, the other shadow's voice echoed through the alleway. I SAID LOOK AT ME! - the shotgun-yielding woman roared to Extract, now on the ground. Holding back the anger, I couldn't stand her voice neither to see [extract's] eyes so full of fear.

"We're not done here yet" she said, full of intentions. Surely we weren't done yet. Taking another deep breath to keep myself in line, [moi pressed] the muzzle against her head. I recommend that you aim that shotgun somewhere else - in a spark, all of the attacker's wrath went down the drain, shotgun to the ground. [Extract] stood up relieved, slowly regaining her senses; with a signal I asked her to follow me, while paying attention to the blonde girl.

So long Hawthorne... she left it escape as we walked away from that place. "Hawthorne?..." the girl's [terminated] image now was engraved in my mind. Her shaky hands, scared face, and all the problems we had with this family suddenly rushed into my mind. The more I tried to escape, the more the problems would hunt me. I turned around before doing anything out of mind, and guided the [[extract] tiny] girl away. Do you have or know somewhere else safe to stay tonight?... I asked, trying to brush away the not-so-good surprise. She, still in the heat of the moment, simply shaked her head negatively. Well... you could stay in my apartment for a while, I offered. Staying all alone at these streets at this hour is no easy task for most people after all. She nodded and we kept on our pace.

---

I opened the wooden door and the smell of home welcomed me, remembering about how early I'd have to wake up tomorrow and I was late. So, you can sleep here, I affirmed, showing the marvelous couch of naps and sleeps. And for the cherry on the cake, a couple of blankets and pillows. The bathroom is... hm... right through the kitchen. And right there, - [moi said, pointing to the fridge] - there's a fridge - not really full but you won't die of hunger. []Uh... Thanks, she blurbed it out as the words didn't wanted to leave her lips. I simply smiled and left; she needed to rest, I needed to rest.

A new day had to come. Wake up. Make food. Brush teeth. Get ready. Leave keys for new guest. Take bus.
The moning's fog could be seen blurring faintly the apartments lights of recently-awaken residents, the coldness tasting like metal.
The same potholes that shook the bus every day announced the closeness to the AE Port section B. The gates opened lazily, inside a few machines already on full steam, as today we would have some more work receiving extra deliveries. I greeted some coworkers in my way, showed the way for another few, and the huge "Hawthorne" logo on the pick-up crane's sides greeted me. Great time to show up, huh, I mumbled to myself while analyzing the buttons and levers. It had been a few weeks since I last worked with cranes, but it didn't took me long to assimilate the functions again. Cargo by cargo, Apollo Enterprises recieved newer, expensiver machine parts. Many of those crazy thingamabobs were hard to discover where they fit, but I guess it worked. Their income was raising vertiginously, the same way the crisis raised outside.
Being inside those metal gates wasn't the most comfortable or free space, but surely granted us some kind of status, maybe not the most well-seen one. Anyways, as long it granted us survival it was good enough, I couldn't complain that much.

"Could you help me over here?" - a random coworker I've never seen before exclamated, obviously having some trouble trying to coordinate a forklift. I was on a little pause, so why not? The newbie soon learned how to deal with it and as I turned my back, I saw the crane's arm moving up and up... then suddenly dropping over one of the Enterprise's trucks. Everything got quiet for a moment, the other workers ran over the scene to check what happened. I couldn't blame their curiosity, their muttering. It was just me and my heartbeat resonating in my head, trying to figure out what was that, why that happened. The pursuer had fled away from the scene already. A long, known voice from our sector's inspector, Brandon, could be heard from afar; asking who was the responsible for this. My face burned, my words hesitated, I raised my hand apprehensively, turning around in direction to that voice.
I-it... It was my fault...
The people gathering around the accident turned their heads to me, and the inspector grabbed me by the arm as if I would escape. He took me to a black car, I just got in it. It had nice air conditioning, leather seats, an angry driver. I shoved my face between my hands, trying to wake up from this nightmare. [Mashed's] office wasn't far away, I more than certainly couldn't escape.

---

A big, modern building bathed in light materialized inbetween the smog, helicopters could be heard overhead. The driver guided me through all the cubicles and smaller offices, the news about the accident and a stolen delivery truck on channel 7. It was just like a dream, but with customer service people eye's firing at you. Light wooden doors adorned by fancy white marble opened, revealing a big office, fancier than the exterior decoration. I stepped in, together with the inspector. "Here he is", he sneered. I moved closer in, noticing the fancy crystal chandeliers and looking outside through the enormous windows with some kind of hope. Tiny lights shined from outside, then Mashed gave a worried but kept in smile and looked at me, while signaling Brandon out of the office.

"So, from where can we start...", the owner of this all sighed in a serious tone. "It wasn't my fault, someone broke in and dropped the --" I spilled out, trying to save myself from whatever I was getting in; "I am so sorry...so sorry..." - progressively losing his patience, Mashed stood up - "Who was in charge of that crane?" - "it was me, but I looked away for a moment just to help another coworker!", I exclamated as I stepped back anxiously. "There are absolutely no excuses for this, mainly at the moment we're going through" - he snapped and put his fist against his desk - "That's absolutely deplorable. Do you know how much we have lost now? Just because of your irresponsability? You're totally out. Go sign your papers now." - the sun man had his attention taken by his phone ringing.
I just done what had to be done there, hiding whatever feelings I was feeling as awfully as I could, and then took the first bus way home. Helicopters still could be overheard, a few police sirens here and there. I sank into my seat and waited to get home.

The apartment's door opened, I sat by Extract's bed, just staring at the plastic flower pot and leaning against the old couch's arm. Out of curiosity rather than self-punishment, my hand reached out for the remote control and turned the television on the news channel. They replayed the chase scenes over and over, throwing informations about the case all around, trying to connect the dots about the case. That face... the driver was too familiar. It could only be her...

The click of the lock outside broke my surge of anger. "Hey. You're home early. Have you looked outside? It's crazy out there." - Extract said as she entered the apartment. Even thought her presence relieved me, my words still hesitated. "Do you see this thing on TV?" - I smiled anxiously, trying to lessen the seriousness of the situation - "Heee, it was kind of my fault. Now I lost my job." - I proceeded, after pointing to the tv - "That one girl, I don't know how the hell she invaded the place, but she made one container fall over one of the pickup trucks, stole one truck and drove away."

...
ultra not proofed.

Part 1: The basics