The Lost Cog Detective Agency

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Nivansrywyllian, Jul 30, 2012.

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  1. Masahiro strode merrily in through the front doors of the Lost Cog's shopfront, accompanied by a merry jingle announcing his arrival. For a quasi-legal detective agency, the Cog did fairly well for itself as both a clock repair shop, and a base of operations for the city's finest unofficial law enforcement agency. The small front room was slightly cramped, with a counter taking up the greater share of the space, and on it a hundred different tools of the trade.

    Behind the counter, sat the gold-skinned Jerobi. He was an islander from beyond the Empire, and his expression was one of perpetually wry amusement. As if all the world was making a fool of itself, and he was the only one to realize it. He looked up from his work with a fob watch to give the easterner a nod in greeting, before his attention returned to the watch. Masahiro beamed at him, flashing pearly-whites as he traipsed on through the shop, and around the break in the counter to step through the door to the actual agency.

    The back of the shop was a bit more open, with a few rolling desks along the walls, and stools tucked beneath should the need for a desk arise. There was also a narrow, rickety staircase that lead to the shop's 'office', so to speak. Masahiro made no effort to hide the 'thump thump thump' of his heavy boots as he ascended. He burst unceremoniously into the office without bothering to knock.

    The upstairs office was a plainly furnished thing, with a single desk. Behind the desk was a comfortable looking rolling chair built for a man of size. In front, were three ladder-backed chairs for anybody that might need an audience with the elusive Mr. Bowler.

    Keeva Flynne shot Masahiro a scowl, tucking her short, red hair back behind her ear and crossing her arms over her chest. She wore a deep maroon dress, although it was blessedly absent of a bustle. From beneath the hem of her skirt, Masahiro could see one foot beginning to tap already.

    "Bad day, dragon lady?" He asked, grinning cheekily.

    That brought a jovial chortle from the one and only Mr. Bowler. The man was faintly reminiscent of a beachball, in his tailored suit and bowler hat. He was a clean-shaven man, with a merry smile and a twinkle in his eye. A monocle was held in place over his left eye betwixt cheek and brow, and a silver capped cane rested on the ground. He stood a bare five foot seven. "Hiro, be kind to the poor sergeant. She's been through hell trying to hire on Metzger."

    Masahiro brightened further still at the voice of the round man. "Jolly Man!" He said. With a glance to Flynne, he gave a half-apologetic grin. "Sorry, dragon lady." He winked. Her knuckles creaked in her gloves, and he moved on by quickly. "We're really taking her?"

    Mr. Bowler laughed, and shook his head. "She hasn't signed anything yet, my boy. We did find a new recruit in the Copper quarter, however. We're expecting her in the shopfront any minute. Why don't you go down to show her up?"
  2. Axibelle woke that morning in her small ship, her men were sleeping and she showers looking in the mirror she applies her make up, she red robins it finishing it off with a cats eye mirage done expertly with a stick of eyeliner. She applies light lip stick, for all her extremes she neve was one for startling lip stick. She arranges her hair in a spiked mess and smiles as she adds bows with skulls on them, today her hair was a vibrant pink. She puts on a lace skirt with ripped black leggings underneath, knee high lace up combat boots and a black unprepared sleeve shirt with a black corset over the top. She was to report to her new.... Job today. They better know she was not the type to take orders. She would be hard to handle. She grabs her holster and her knives pitting on a pair of sharpened dangly earrings and al her rings which worked as a type of brass knuckle should she decide to punch. With that she walks out.

    It doesn't take her long to find the clock shop and she looks around, " I'm good with directions, but this doesn't look right" she mutters under her breath
  3. Masahiro beamed at Mr. Bowler, the mysterious figurehead of the Lost Cog Detective Agency. He sketched a quick bow, before turning on his heel and thundering down the stairs behind the shop. His sturdy boots didn't really make for soft footsteps, and the easterner rarely thought to regulate the force with which he stepped.

    He burst through the door leading to the shopfront, drawing only a glance from Jerobi, the gold-skinned islander from beyond the westernmost provinces of the Empire's reach. He'd propped his boots up, and was cleaning his fingernails with a three-inch blade.

    "New meat?" Asked the easterner.

    Jerobi thrust his knife in the direction of the shopfront's window, through which was visible the street. "Pretty girl out there looks lost." Said the islander, deadpan.

    Masahiro grinned, and tromped through the shop. He very nearly went flying out of the door, when the islander cleared his throat. "Hiro," He said, still deadpan. "If I have to string up that bell one more time, I'll use your hair for twine." The easterner's grin became uncertain, and he opened the door much more gently than he'd planned.

    With his hands on his hips, he swept his deep, brown eyes across the many faces passing by. His hair drew some looks, but only one person seemed to be interested in the shop itself. He made a beeline for Axibelle, grinning. "Here about the Cog?" He asked, cheerily. An ambiguous question that seemed natural enough for a man walking out of a clock-repair shop to ask. Anybody applying for the Lost Cog agency however, would know better.
  4. She looks at this new comer and arches a brow. " depends. Who are you?" she never gave information for free, he wants an answer he will give her one first, she didn't need the cog. She had her own ship and crew... She was just... Bored. Her dream came true and this bowler... Offered her some intrigue. Her eyes meet the easterners a clear statement that she had plent of bite in her and very little trust.
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