A Cyborg, Dwarf, and a Robot Meet up for Lunch...

[Bobbie]

Since the changes were made to his body, getting by hasn’t been particularly easy and has led the cyborg to snatch up any work that he could get his hands on to earn enough to survive with nothing to his name. It was an emotionally challenging journey, but Shinsei quickly learnt that he didn’t need much, being rather humble in his desires and expectations for life, yet his newfound addiction was robbing him of a lot of his money.

Here on Dance Island, the job he came to do was simple - carrying boxes of rice products, freshly farmed and processed from the rice paddies that belonged to Mr Ju’Darjin onto his ships for transportation. The job itself was going smoothly enough, there weren’t many things that could have gone wrong in carrying crates from point A to point B, it was grunt work, but it wasn’t long ago that he had met one particular blonde vixen and their very exciting night escalated to an entire pub being burnt down, only to be rebuilt from the bounty money donated to the bar, earned by the pair taking down some Pirate Riker.

Unfortunately, this news spread quite fast, and rather than seeing the generosity in their donation, Mr Ju’Darjin could only see Shinsei as a menace, and gave him his final salary to see him off his farmlands within that very week. 

He was angry about it, but it wasn’t worth dwelling on in Shinsei’s mind, as the man in a waistcoat and a striped black and red shirt walked through the streets, a cigarette burning between his lips. This time, he steered clear of independent taverns and headed toward his hotel as he no longer had reason to stay on this island; having collected his final payment, there was nothing to stop him from leaving to search for work elsewhere.

Tired, the cyborg entered Ol’Keg Inn, a cheap but comfortable inn that included a couple of rooms on the upper floors and a lounge, bar and restaurant area on ground floor. It wasn’t of the greatest quality in its service, but it was the best Shinsei could do with his budget. He didn’t particularly care as long as there was a bed and edible food. Best point of all, perhaps due to the complete lack of prestige associated with this place, not a single one of the workers ever attempted to stop him smoking inside, which he repaid with the courtesy of avoiding crowded areas on a good day.

As he entered the establishment, he looked toward the wooden reception desk, looking like it was made out of an actual piece of driftwood stacked upon two supporting pillars, and a handmade wooden box hanging on the wall for keys of rooms that were still empty, while another lay underneath it on a stool with cash stored securely behind a padlock. Smiling and nodding to the older receptionist, Shinsei could feel a certain air of discomfort about in the lounge area. At first he wondered if this was also due to the news of Pirate Riker being struck down and captured, but as he turned to move toward the restaurant, he quickly discovered the real reason there was so much tension about the patrons in this place.

Shinsei’s own smile was instantly washed away once he saw the familiar face, though his sudden shift in mood was not due to discomfort or fear, but shock and sadness - there was no mistaking who that was… the tall robot that seemed to just be standing there, his limbs thin, just as he remembered them, yet his chest bulky and metallic, the brightly lit eyes, pink and yellow, and, lastly, that unnerving smile… that would always get a giggle out of little Shoten.

His red eyes fixed on the robot in horror, though not of its appearance but of the reminder that it brought with it, Shinsei felt a lump in his throat. Swallowing it, he averted his gaze to keep walking to buy some lunch, his brow twisting into an almost tearful expression, but it was the sound of his late son’s giggles in his mind that brought him to a halt.

Taking a deep breath, the cyborg redirected his path to approach the robot, a subtle smile appearing on his face in the spirit of his beloved baby boy instead of the pained expression he wore seconds ago. He removed the cigarette from his mouth and held it low to avoid too much of the smoke coming between them, not that he imagined it would have much of an effect on the robot's organs. “Iron Circus?” he asked, despite already knowing the answer, as he pointed at Chester. “You’re the Jester, right?”

---

Shinsei: #ba0303

[Zaz]

This place was... quaint. Chester was pretty sure that was a word people would use for places like where he now found himself. Not merely this... hotel, as they called it, too, but the entire island around it as well. It was filled with a simplicity that Chester was far from used to experiencing. He had observed such places from afar, sure, in his years within the Iron Circus, or so his memories told him, but he had never once actually left the limits of the fairgrounds. He hardly ever left the grand tent itself, among the other facilities included within or placed adjacent. It was quite a new experience, and much different than the dull periods of waiting while the Iron Circus traveled between islands.

Chester was actually quite enjoying himself here, though perhaps that was more due to the great sense of freedom he was still experiencing after having escaped from the confines of his previous life. Sure, it was true that there was nothing terribly exciting to do or otherwise experience on this rather rustic little island, but it was also true that he was now, supposedly, an immense distance from anywhere the Iron Circus would think to look for him. He had a traveling merchant to thank for that, one who had a habit of not asking many questions when presented with enough payment. The fact that an island such as this would normally be thought of as somewhere someone like him would definitely not be was only a coincidental bonus.

After some time wandering the island and asking questions here and there, such as asking a farmer tending his crops what rice was, which had earned him a fairly confused response, he had eventually wandered to the establishment he currently found himself within after asking some passersby about a place he could stay for a brief time. After having purchased a room for the time being, he found himself thinking about what he should do next. He loved that he could do that now, just think. It was different than what he used to do, that simpler process of taking in information and forming a response. He had thoughts now, and he had only fairly recently begun to enjoy them.

So there he was, having a good thinking session that had only become mildly sidetracked, when he registered someone addressing him. However, it was more the way they had addressed him that shook him out of his thoughts, Chester quickly turning his head, notably without the rest of his body following, to look at them. A quick "Was." was his immediate response, coming out sounding strongly artificial and almost snappy. His mouth, so to speak, also did not move. He was a robot, after all. Despite this response, however, Chester did not display any outward signs of being upset. As his body seemed to catch up to his head, turning with it, he merely leaned in to bring himself somewhat uncomfortably face to face with the man before him, making sure to keep at least a foot of distance between their face and his nose, lest he prick them.

Somewhat slowly, Chester would bring up his right hand, just close enough to be within the man's field of vision and attract their attention as he spoke in a serious tone, his artificial nature still bleeding into his words. "But as you can see..." Rather suddenly, the hand would flip, leading into an undulating motion traveling up his arm as he began to stand straight, rapidly appearing taller and taller. This motion would continue onto his other arm, traveling out to his left hand as it snapped into position to point at the air above him and he exclaimed in a much more cheerful tone, with only a barely noticeable hint of the artificial nature of his speech coming through. ...there are no strings on me! Nyehe heh!

Chester would return to a slouch, though just to bring them closer together and not getting as close to the man's face as before. Should he have been paying attention, he might have noticed that the tension among the other people in the room had risen considerably during his response and had only now begun to slowly lower toward what it was before. Chester's gaze, however, remained locked on the man before him. His voice would change to become more regular, though still a far cry from the serious tone he had taken in jest. It could be likened to if a show announcer of some kind was somehow managing to use an inside voice despite maintaining their persona, though it still had a mild undercurrent of an artificial nature.

"My name's Chester now, and I'm a free person and a fool no longer. I've left all that behind me to travel the world and experience what it's like to live chasing a life of freedom and adventure! Judging from how you've recognized me, I'm taking it that you've seen me perform before?"

[pepsi]

-- CHAPTER 1 // A CYBORG, A DWARF AND A ROBOT

The short and stubby farmer planted his hoe into the ground as he reached the place. Before him, the remains of a plantation of corn; scraps of what were once many plants with their fruits littered the ground. "When we pinned that request for an exterminator to help up you were the first to answer, mister Thrainn. Did you find the tracks those boars left behind?"

Caliban ran his thin little hand through the dirt. Upon feeling something unnaturally smooth and hard, he grabbed it; bits of dirt and rocks were scattered about as he pulled it out with vigour.
A flat, slightly curve piece of chitin with a serrated side. "It wasn't boars that ravaged your crops, mister Flannigan."

He'd seen them before. In different forms, sure, but those bugs always followed the same recipe. They burrowed into the ground, snacking on the roots and letting the plants die; then, a different kind of bug was simply led to snack in on the dying plantation.
They were teaming up, the bastards. Caliban wasn't sure why they wouldn't eat the plants alive, instead going in such a roundabout way to feed; his best guess was that they needed the plants to dry up first.
But for what reasons, it was unknown to him. Many things remained unknown to him.

"What is that?" The farmer asked. "Again. Not boars. You wish you were dealing with boars." Caliban cleaned the dirt off his hands on the tiny little robe he decided to wear that morning. It was tattered and brown from dust, but he didn't care as long as it would help him stave off the weather and the summer sun.
"I've met this kind of thing before. Not on this island, though" Caliban explained, pacing towards the road at the edge of the corn field. "Will my other crops be okay?" The farmer asked. "It seems to me they have already snacked on everything they needed. They will only go for bigger targets now."
Finding an entire mandible burrowed in the ground meant that the bugs had already started to molt. That was a very, very bad sign.

"What... what do you mean? Mister Thrainn, what do you mean?"
"I'm done for today" Caliban said, stepping along the side of the road leading to the main city. "Rest up, mister Flannigan. I'll come by tomorrow to gather evidence from neighboring plots."

-- NAME // Caliban Thrainn

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

[Bobbie]

The robot’s sudden jerk and outburst of a quick and sharp response made Shinsei flinch and raise an eyebrow as he watched him, leaning back just slightly as the robot moved lower to be face-to-face with him. As he stared at the mechanical being, a subtle smirk of a smile began to appear on his face, intrigued by the machine’s movements that used to be of so much amusement to his son.

Once the robot pulled away from right in front of him and did his little routine, the cyborg also straightened up and let out a chuckle, before sticking his cigarette in his mouth again. “Right, was…” his smoking habit caused his words to be muffled as one side of his lips remained almost sealed to keep the cigarette pinched in place. “I’ve always wondered what became of you guys…” he added before removing his cigarette and blowing smoke away from him.

As his head was turned, he caught a glimpse of the horrified looks on the faces of some on-lookers while others were somewhat amused, but all patrons in the lobby kept their distance.

He turned back to Chester as he was addressed by the robot, “A life of freedom? How’s that working out for you?” he asked with a hint of sarcasm in his tone due to his own negative experience of being forced into living such a life, but he quickly moved on. “Yes, I have seen you and your former colleagues perform, we used to love your shows. We didn’t get to watch them very often unless the Iron Circus travelled to the South or we did to the North for business, but they were always a favourite.”

That lump in his throat threatened to return as the redhead thought about his former life and his cigarette was a welcome distraction from that, as he took another puff.

“I was about to get some lunch, if you’d like to join me and tell me all about your journey from a fool on strings to a free traveller. No offence, but just standing around out here is making you very popular with the men and ladies alike, and I don’t mean that in the good way. Do you, uh…” Awkwardly, he hesitated and scanned the robot’s body for a moment, “Do you require any kind of fuel?” with one last deep inhale, he finished his smoke and stubbed the cigarette end on the nearest ashtray before discarding its remains.

---

Shinsei: #ba0303

[Zaz]

A series of rapidly alternating clipped laughs would ring out from Chester as he threw his head back, each clip unique in the way it sounded. Said clips covered an impossibly wide spectrum, nothing a single person could produce naturally, ranging from the laugh of an old man to that of a young girl. However, as usual, each and every one contained the same synthetic undertone that always found its way into every sound Chester made. His laughter, so to speak, would quickly amplify into two clips playing at once, then three, quickly resembling some demented staccato laugh track the likes of which nobody present had likely ever heard before, nor probably wanted to ever hear again in their lifetime.

Then, just as suddenly as it began, it ended, cutting off sharply without any natural trail and, in total, lasting only just a few seconds. With grace that some would find baffling being demonstrated by one of his stature and build, he'd wind himself up, twirling not unlike a ballerina, until it became difficult to tell precisely where he was facing, as each part seemed to face in a different direction. Then, just as smoothly, Chester would unwind himself as he traveled a short distance across the room, feet sliding along the floor in a circular pattern with but a whisper despite their material, his whole body moving as if it were a twister.

It all ended with Chester smoothly unfolding himself into a seated position at a nearby table, head in one hand as he once more looked at his new acquaintance with his eternal grin. He'd extend his other arm towards them, then past them, grabbing his hammer which had until now been leaning against a wall. It would then be whisked through the air with nary a sound but that of the air around it moving, rushing past the man, though with no threat of collision, and ending in much the same position but now leaning against the table Chester now sat at. His arm retracted, Chester would release his hammer and drum his fingers on the table once reach, five distinctly metallic taps ringing out before he spoke.

"It's been going well enough so far, and I always have time for a fan! Come, sit down and have a chat, and you've no need to worry about myself. While I do require fuel to function, my engine is quite efficient. I also very much doubt that I can refuel where we currently find ourselves, as I don't use foodstuffs as fuel."

[pepsi]

As a customer of the inn opened the door, Caliban hijacked the opportunity to enter. He didn't care that the man's feet nearly crushed him, as long as he could simply call that day over.
He made his way into the dining hall, and as he reached a table he threw his little backpack on top of the first chair he could find. Then, he followed along with a precisely-timed jump. Caliban let out a long sigh, and calmly sat down on the chair; he was so small, his fully extended legs couldn't cover the entire seat's depth.
Before calling the waiters, he looked around out of habit; nothing out of the ordinary, he thought - that is, until he got to the table where the most out-of-place looking dude was sitting. There were two of them at the table: one seemed a relatively normal guy from the streets; but the other was wearing what looked like the most hideous suit of armour Caliban had ever seen.

The Dwarf had witnessed many, many weird-looking pirates in his brief time as a Marine; but that was really something. With such a creepy smile plastered on his face, too, Caliban thought...
His feelings were partly validated by the chattering and staring of the other customers, although many simply chose not to care.
Caliban deemed it a wise choice, and stopped caring himself.

He pushed himself over and on the table - he was barely taller than a beer mug, turns out! - and looked around for any waiter. Back on Green Bit, a Dwarf would never run out of food or drinks, so when were those humans going to serve him?

-- NAME // Caliban Thrainn

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

[Bobbie]

As the smoker sat down at the table, he had a quick glance around before taking one last puff of his cigarette and then stubbing it out on the side of the table - or what was left of it anyway, as most of it had burnt out without even having been smoked. It was a waste, but he could light another one later. Discarding the unlit cigarette butt, he sat back and watched Chester retrieve his hammer and place it by their table before the robot spoke.

For a moment, Shinsei remained silent. There was a slight misunderstanding, the real fan was not really him, but his late son. He didn’t specifically dislike their performances, but what he was addicted to was not the circus on stage, but rather the smiles on his boy’s face and the squeals of laughter that came from him.

“So what kind of fuel does your engine require then? I hope it's one that's easily accessible to you.” he asked, quite well accustomed to the notion of depending on some sort of substance to keep oneself going. Perhaps it was fortunate in his case, however, that his fuel did not limit him from enjoying other forms of sustenance, as he still needed food and water and he quite liked having the ability to hold onto that amount of normalcy, even if he didn’t care very much for food-tasting. That said, it didn’t have to mean that he’d not indulge if he had the funds for it.

Soon, he locked eyes with a passing server, who approached their table. “What can I get you?” the young man asked, though he visibly flinched when he looked at Chester’s face. “Erm… will you both be ordering?” He asked, cautiously, staring at the robot's permanent smile.

The cyborg smile, “I don’t think he’ll be getting anything, so the curried veggie wantons and a pint of ale for me, please.”

The server nodded to Shinsei first, then awkwardly to Chester, and was on his way.

The redhead’s gaze followed the employee who looked nervous enough to be new here and he couldn’t help a soft chuckle escape him. The poor lad was in such a hurry to get away from their table that he nearly tripped in his feet, and Shinsei couldn’t help but wonder if his food would arrive here in one piece or splattered on the floor. As he allowed his gaze to wander, he caught a glimpse of a tiny little figure standing on a table that the server passed by.

Shinsei had never met a dwarf before, and so this was a unique sight to him. He couldn’t figure out if the creature - whatever it was - that stood by a beer mug and was barely any taller than it was a customer or some sort of mascot of the inn. If it was the latter, it certainly made a cute one, but he must have missed it during his stay here.

Realising he was staring, he shifted his attention back to Chester.

“So your goal is to travel the world? It seems like you’ve already come a long way, is there a particular direction you plan to be heading?”



Shortly after dropping off his latest order in the kitchen, the very same server at the heavily understaffed inn approached Caliban’s table. “Can I see you- Help you!” the awkward newbie quickly corrected himself and laughed nervously, “Gosh, I’m so sorry, I just… you’re not very… I didn’t… What can I get you?” He slapped a friendly smile onto his face, in hopes that it could somehow remedy the huge mistake he had just made and would save him from getting fired.

---

Shinsei: #ba0303
Server: #81b0bb

[Zaz]

Chester would nod politely at the young man who arrived to take their orders, though he had none to give them. He had very much noticed their... trepidation of sorts, having gotten used to receiving such a reaction from many a person while he was performing in the Iron Circus, though it didn't bother him in the slightest. It amused him quite a bit, actually, that he could garner such adoring responses from children and such nervous responses from those not even a decade older. The only reasons that he didn't chuckle were that his laughter wasn't an involuntary response, he no longer had a reason to stick to his portrayed character, and he figured that he shouldn't make them any more nervous than they already were. He wasn't mean, after all, despite his many performances occasionally portraying him as somewhat dastardly.

Chester would swivel his head back to face the man across his table, having taken brief note of the tiny person some tables away. Was it strange for someone to be so small? He... actually didn't know. He hadn't heard of people being that small, and people around the room were certainly reacting as if it wasn't usual, but Chester shrugged it off when nobody acted with any particular alarm. Their size was novel, in a sense, but not overly intriguing in and of itself, and he was sure that they wouldn't appreciate being overly ogled when it wasn't even their job to attract attention, unlike his own very striking self! He sure didn't mind attention, but also had enough understanding that very few were as used to the spotlight as himself. When the man across from him turned to face him once more, Chester elected to simply carry on with their conversation as normal.

"As I said, you've no need to worry about my magnificent self! However, I don't mind explaining one of the many things that makes me so great. My engine runs on gunpowder, which, while there is none within my immediate vicinity, isn't hard to come by, even on an island such as this. In an emergency I can make do with an alternative. While not the best to use during a performance, it's plenty enough for basic travel. Something like coal dust, for an example that I've used before in my downtime. Any flammable powder will work just fine, really. And my engine is incredibly efficient! It doesn't run constantly, any engine like mine that did would eat through far too much material to be useful. It runs in bursts to generate power, which is then stored and gradually used until more is needed. My engine hasn't even been running since before I walked in. And no particular direction as of yet, I'm merely going where the wind takes me, enjoying life as it comes, so to speak, though I won't remain so idle forever! I have big plans to get my name out there, to the whole world this time! I'm just taking some time to enjoy the... slower pace, for now. It's actually quite novel. Gives you time to think clearly."

[Bobbie]

Shinsei nodded as Chester explained the mechanics of his body. It was interesting to learn how such a prominent figure from his old life operated behind the scenes, but talking about fuel made him crave his own.

Redirecting his attention away from the robot for a moment to look around for the server or other staff, he took out a cigarette and lit it under the table, using his ring as a makeshift lighter. The redhead leaned to the side to take a puff as inconspicuous as he possibly could, then blew the smoke down toward their feet before he faced Chester once more.

He wished his own fuel hadn’t been as addictive as nicotine, but in truth, he wasn’t given much chance to learn the ins and outs of his modified body. All of a sudden, he was just lumped with it and he had to figure out what to do with his cravings.

“Right, fair enough. Enjoying a slower pace is nice sometimes. You still hope for fame, though?” he asked, his gaze drifting away once more toward the waiter that approached their table. Shifting in his seat, he moved his cigarette underneath the table to ensure it was hidden and offered a smile to the worker.

“Thank you,” he uttered as the wantons were left on the table and the young lad left them alone to eat. Leaving his plate untouched for the moment, he wanted to finish his smoke first, resuming the habit in as subtle a manner he could.

“Would you still target a young audience or take a different route this time around?”

---

Shinsei: #ba0303

Post: 4