Wrench Wielder of the Smog City

People run their whole lives; Doesn't matter whether they're running from something, toward something, or just running around pointlessly. In the end they're just running, and the only type of man that ultimately survives the run is the type that enjoys it. Masochistic, some might say, but oh well... C'est la vie. Even though the focus is on running, doesn't mean one can't also enjoy the scenery along the way, or the rush of adrenaline and the craving for going even faster. Some may consider the fondness of running a radical point of view, but inarguably a plausible point of view and one that often expands one's survivability and adaptability in the less pleasant of environments.

Running might be a redundant activity nowadays, but the very nature of it still lingers in the every-day life of every modern human. Cruise engines, for instance, while considered a substitute to running by some, are viewed as an improved way of running by others, and with the latter group not being the majority or anywhere even close to it, those with that particular view toward life have become a unique sub-species of the human race, having evolved into borderline-lunatics wanting nothing but running faster and farther, and as a result, inevitably finding themselves distant from the average society and its ways and norms.

Saying Oliver Evans falls under such a definition might be somewhat of an over-exaggeration, but as proven in the past, he sure shares various traits with that particular group. One does not so easily earn the nickname of "Clockwork", but when one does, most don't even ask where it's come from as it's obvious from the nickname itself that it's originated from nowhere good and sane. Having seen the man at work a couple of times, aerelm knew for sure, that if there was even one man alive who could push any ship to the far extent of its limits without blowing it up, it would've been no one but the infamous Clockwork - One name no racer in Dublin could utter without thinking of weird looking tiny ships zooming through the race rings.

RE: Wrench Wielder of the Smog City - Clockwork - 07-21-2014

While engineering is surely a science, at times it can also be an art. Not only in achieving the right balance between parts, but also when it backfires and paints the walls of a workroom with shrapnel and oil. Clockwork Evan was busy trying a little of each.

A loud *bang* rang out as his new engine prototype failed spectacularly again. "I'm sure I'll get it sorted one of these times," he said to himself as he began to clean up in order to start again.

He sat down and stared at what remained of the engine. "I do miss those older days, back when I'd just fancy up racers' engines and build explosives. This responsibility thing isn't all it's cracked up to be, aye? Maybe I should take a break at the bar? Or find some kind of distraction while I figure out what the problem is here." Saying that, he stood again and began to figure out his plan.

RE: Wrench Wielder of the Smog City - farmerman - 07-23-2014

Down at the bar on Skye Base, Clockwork Evans was sitting at a corner table with a glass of fine Gaian Absinthe, made fresh from the Gaian Wormwood tree. He looked unhappy. As Dan McKay entered the bar, he could see the grumpy look on his face. After ordering an imported Rheinbier, he sat and joined his friend.

"Why the sad look, friend?" Dan asked.

"Well you know that engine I've drawn up that I was going to install on the Windbirds Refuge?" Clockworked asked.

"Of course, it's my ship, how could I forget? It not going well?"

"Not so much, something keeps going wrong. I think I'm going to have to talk to Jack about it. I feel it's this close to being done."

"Can't wait to see it," Dan said, raising his glass in a toast.

"Thanks, Dan." Clockwork replied. "I just kind of miss the old days sometimes, you know? It was a lot easier to work on engines when they weren't engaged in important tasks..."

RE: Wrench Wielder of the Smog City - aerelm - 07-26-2014

Grand Racing Tournament of 817 A.S. was an opportunity of a lifetime, not only for the racers or those placing bets on them, but also the crew of Battleship Hood and every shop owner aboard it. People were flying in from all over the Sirius to this pseudo-neutral-zone to watch different racers from different houses compete in a breathtaking tournament which naturally spawned a good deal of bar fights, under the table deals, and assorted shady activities which are the only reason humanity's still proud of itself.

"You Clockwork, right?"

aerelm was much younger back then, enthusiastic, naive, and of course reckless. Which was the only reason he had entered what the bartender liked to call "Hardcore betting" rounds, which only differed in one rule from regular betting - Each person was only allowed to bet on one racer throughout the tournament, and if the racer was out, so was he. The fact that the racer aerelm was betting on had made it to the finals was of course result of a lucky guess and nothing more than a gut feeling that the racer may turn out to be good, but there problem in this last round - The racer aerelm had picked might have been good, but the guy he was going up against was certainly better... and aerelm couldn't afford to risk all that money, so it was time to waste some cash in order to save some.

RE: Wrench Wielder of the Smog City - Clockwork - 08-05-2014

"You Clockwork, right?" aerelm had asked.

Clockwork Evans was a fixture aboard the Hood in those days. While miners certainly made up a large proportion of the station population, the racetrack nearby also meant a steady flow of racers and betters. And someone had to ensure ships were going fast enough. And someone also had to ensure ships might go a bit faster than was traditionally considered safe. Clockwork was that man.

Currently he was working on the engines of a Starblazer, hoping to boost thruster efficiency 150%. As he heard the question, he turned toward the speaker.

"Aye, that's me," he said. "Did you need a ship upgrade? Or something a little bit less common?"

Though he would never state it outright to most people, Clockwork was also quite content to make explosive devices for a premium. In fact, that's where his nickname came from. His usual customers were Mollys and Gaians, and this man didn't quite look like either. Despite that, Clockwork had a feeling that he wasn't the typical miner either.

RE: Wrench Wielder of the Smog City - aerelm - 08-06-2014

After throwing a casual glance at the content of a toolbox on the table next to him, aerelm took out his pad and started browsing for something, and asked in a lower tone without looking up,

"A friend of mine who's a friend of yours told me you're good at making things make loud noises and keeping quiet about it afterwards. Right?"

Then looking up briefly to see the man's reaction, he continued looking through a list on his pad.

RE: Wrench Wielder of the Smog City - farmerman - 08-22-2014

"Your friend sounds like they know what they're talking about," Clockwork said. "Those are two things I am quite good at."

He eyed the Daumann Devastator he kept in his bench, just in case. Seeing it securely within reach, he asked, "So what is it you're looking for in particular, and for whom do you work?"

RE: Wrench Wielder of the Smog City - aerelm - 09-02-2014

Casually walking up to the engine Clockwork was working on, which looked more like a dismantled heap of junk than an actual engine, he turned to Clockwork again and asked, pointing at the engine,

"Know how to make one of these go boom mid-flight... or mid-race, for that matter?"

RE: Wrench Wielder of the Smog City - farmerman - 09-27-2014

"Know how to make one of these go boom mid-flight... or mid-race, for that matter?" the man asked.

"Now that is something I could surely do. Race-wise, timing might be a bit tricky," Clockwork said, "But if you let me know precisely where someone should be, I'm sure I can crunch the numbers. The trick is anticipating any collateral damage."

"Not that I would have any experience in the matter," he said with a wink. "but I could imagine, of course. But you're not with the fellows up at Newgate, right?"

RE: Wrench Wielder of the Smog City - aerelm - 12-06-2014

Putting the pad on the table and sliding it toward Clockwork, he pointed at the racer profile open on the screen,

"He's not a decent racer, but he's got a decent ship. That's the only reason he's made it to the finals. Let's just say you'd be doing the racing community a favor and preventing every rich kid and his blind dog from thinkin' they can buy a shiny ship with daddy's money and win the Dublin Cup with it."

Then pausing briefly to let Clockwork examine the profile, he adds,

"... and of course the racing community would appreciate it, and so would your bank balance."