The Dragon Hunters.

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Eon

Third Rate Duelist With a Fourth Rate Deck
Invitation Status
Look for groups, Looking for partners
Posting Speed
Multiple posts per day, One post per day
Online Availability
What is time? How can time be real, if our eyes aren't real?
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
Male, Female, Transgender, Futanari, Primarily Prefer Male
Genres
I can't say. It's like picking a favorite child.
Aaron had been asleep when the announcement rang out, sounding the arrival of the DHV Beowulf. It was an impressive ship, the small mechanic had heard stories of it since his time in Idus. Supposedly, it was one of the greatest ships ever constructed, and traveled all over the world. It was also lead by the incredibly successful dragon-hunter John Caine. Success meant money, and money meant that his brothers and sisters back home were better fed. That was what was important really, though admittedly he had other, more selfish reasons for wanting to work on such a ship. The messy haired technician pondered them as he clambered out of the barrel of the large, discontinued and dismounted cannon that he'd made into his home. Not only is there the travel and the adventure, but a ship like that? The engines must be incredible, top of the line. All the latest parts and pieces, lots of power, probably running off of some sort of blastite-coal compound. Oooh, and the weapons. I can't wait to slip inside one of those, see what makes them tick. He thought, gathering his equipment into a large case with two straps on it, "Oh dear, just where are you now Wadsworth? There's no way I'm leaving without you, you old shitpile," he said, heaving the damaged old automaton into the case as well, "If that eye of yours busts again, I'm melting you for scrap, you hear?" he threatened, pointing a finger at the vaguely humanoid pile of gears, wires, and metal. He talked to his work a lot, made him feel less lonely. He slid the straps over his shoulders, took one last look at the loading chamber that made up his living room, before setting off to go on an adventure.

Aaron always moved quickly, with a sort of brisk efficiency of someone who hated having others stand in his way. Normally, he'd never take the streets anywhere, but with his pack, he couldn't move through his usual channels. Every city capable of competing economically had to have a way of transporting various unstable materials, typically blastite or sometimes whale oil, depending on the location, without needing to worry about human error. Hermes' Rest was no different, most of the trolleys were full of dangerous explosives, but it was pretty easy to find an empty one headed to the docks. Unfortunately, with the massive chest on his back full of tools and automaton, he wasn't able to climb with his usual monkeylike grace. Back in Idus, he could take the pipes anywhere he needed to be, as the flow of dangerous steam was easily predictable, and sometimes even exploitable with the right equipment. Hermes' Rest was different, they used trains full of Blastite here, which meant he usually just leapt from rooftop to rooftop or ran along the trolley rails. It was dangerous sure, but Aaron knew what he was doing. With a sigh, the redheaded tinkerer maneuvered his way carefully through the crowds of people going the same way. There were thousands of people, all so focused on getting to where they needed to be, they weren't watching their coins. If Aaron wasn't also focused, he would've made bank in this crowd. He did take the time to pickpocket a few unsuspecting would-be adventurers however, adding their money to his own, small pool. Finally arriving at the signups, he realized he was going to have a problem. He was a thief, and while he took pride in his work, he was also a rather poor one, a street rat if ever there was one. As such, he was banned from this restaurant, as on one of his earliest nights here, he had gotten hungry and careless, but more importantly, caught. The chef had given the short redhead quite the walloping with a rolling pin, and made sure he was never to be let in again.

It seemed he was in luck however, as John Caine himself barreled out through the doors, crying out for the hunt to begin. He followed, snatching a paper off of the ground and reading through it as quick as he could. Having been raised by a hooker and a factory worker, he wasn't the greatest reader, but one of the older Pipe Rats from Idus had graciously done a good enough job of teaching him. As he read it, he had a thought. Just how long can I keep my presence on the ship hidden? It's been a while since home, and I don't want to lose the skills I gained there. Besides, what kind of thief can't hide? He thought, his short legs pumping to keep up with the crowd. I'll still have to pull my weight of course, I just want to make sure nobody knows who's doing it. Besides maybe the captain, but there's something fun about stowing away. Small quarters I guess, every second is just a few more away from discovery, makes it fuckin' exciting...Yeah, that settles it. I'm going to stow away on the most famous dragon hunting ship in the world, this will be fun. Better steal a parachute first. Or make one...I could make wings, I bet. Need to salvage parts from the ship though, maybe even take apart Wadsworth...

The young boy's mind worked at the tangential problem of making wings from what materials he'd have on the DHV Beowulf as he kept closely in line with the crowd.
 
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