Left To Our Own Devices [Open]

[Sphinx]

Kitchen Machine Parts. Those seemed like they'd be something easy enough to make, but for someone with as little experience as Sphinx it was more of a puzzle. "Easy" was over-rated, anyhow. Easy was boring. Complicated, if sometimes annoying, was almost guaranteed to be more fun. Sure, speed crafting might've made putting together his mess of cogs and knobs, nuts and bolts a whole lot easier, but how was he supposed to learn anything from that? This "game" was becoming more and more like the real world, and if he wanted to get by, he was gonna have to figure out how to work like an actual mechanic instead of relying on the game menu to do it for him. That shouldn't be too hard... Luckily, the other participants in the event had progressed enough that the required materials were now free. Being broke was a pretty new feeling for him. Kind of liberating, actually, though hardly useful in this new world. He couldn't very well stay a broke level 1 forever. Maybe figuring out how to work with his crafting class could help change that. This event seemed like the best way to start doing that, but first.. he had to figure out what the hell he was doing with all these pieces. "I feel like this would be more efficient if he just hired a few mechanics to do maintenance on his machines for the course of the dinner party." Then they could get paid directly, and maybe even get to have some of the food. Sadly, this was not the case, and Sphinx had to hope that the parts he made would be useable with whatever appliances this Chef Van Rogue guy had to work with. And so it was that the werecat set to work. Lacking any tools or the gold to pay for them, it was with difficulty that he used his hands to connect the materials into something more useful. Scrubbing as much of the rust and wear from his materials as he could, Sphinx grabbed a simple wooden board for a base, using a few screws to attach the gears. Since he wasn't a high enough level to use a plug--which he thought was kinda ridiculous--he opted to use a coil instead, bending and twisting it into shape and hoping that it might conduct electricity as he wrapped it around one of the cogs. He did the same at the opposite end, so that any possible electricity would be distributed evenly to make the gears turn and generate energy or heat through the coils. There'd be no way of knowing if it'd actually be good for anything until he had an electric source to attach it to, something that probably wouldn't come up until it was used on one of Van Rogue's appliances. Well, unless he could find a mage-type class with an electric spell weak enough not to fry the whole thing. "It's not pretty, but I guess I couldn't expect much from a level one craft, with no tools, experience, or.." he trailed off, leaning back on his seat with a hand on his forehead. "I really have no idea what I'm doing here. Maybe I should find a higher level mechanic, or.. Hell, any crafter with some experience would probably be helpful." He sighed out in frustration, dropping his hands to his sides again. Much as he'd rather figure the whole thing out on his own... "I wonder if anyone's written a manual for all this crafting stuff yet."

HP: 100% MP: 100% TAG WORD COUNT: 586 x 1.25 = 732.5 NOTES: I'm about as clueless as Sphinx here. Hopefully I did this right.

aeron at thq

[Morgan]

[googlefont="PT Serif:700italic"][googlefont="Cabin:400"][googlefont="Cabin:400italic"]

Alles zu seiner Zeit.

It matters not to Morgan the seemingly impossible stretch of time that has passed since his first moments awaking to that of current - not that it should, really. Time skips were the least of his problems. The matter at hand - or rather, in hand - was somewhat less permissible.

Paper - a simplicity so common in daily life that one could take it for granted in any given situation, and it would be justified. After all, who really struggles from lack of paper? People who took Scribe as their crafting class before being transported here, that's who.

Of course, that included Morgan. Of course, he was feeling (hash tag) the struggle, and how real it was. Despite having been able to get through the line of willing participants due to his supposed status as a Lander, he was having difficulties with crafting due to his low level. As someone who was born of this land, he should have been experienced to some degree with crafting - but it seemed that it was not to be.

After a few failed attempts and replicating the banquet fliers and invitations, Morgan caved and fell back to the basics - paper. The situation at hand did not allow for him to go from the very basis of the Scribe class and make paper from pulpy cotton fibers, but he was slowly gaining experience by taking and drying the sheets, as well as spending the downtime while they dried doing something else - cutting.

A very simplistic form of fine-tuning, Morgan found great pleasure in getting the right proportions down and proper. More than anything, it was satisfying to see that beautiful 1:1.618 ratio - approximately, of course. The Golden Ratio was likely impossible to properly form through human means - but that gave rise to a desire to disprove that impossibility, at least in Morgan's mind.

However, everyone gets tired; eventually, Morgan settled down with a few dozen sheets, the stench slowly getting to him and tiring him out. The smell wasn't exactly displeasing, but after having gotten used to it, it smelled a lot more raw than it did before taking this job up.

His silence leading him to overhearing the musings and conversations of others, Morgan found that he was not the only one in a situation where inexperience became a bother. The result was him standing and making his way to the person who had spoken those words - "borrowing" a pen on his way there, as well as carrying a few slips of paper between his fingers.

❝If you need someone to write that sort of thing, I have a few minutes of free time at hand. I believe you are looking for a Scribe, correct?❞ Morgan passively stared at the member of the Werecat race, who seemed stressed - the body language and hand over the face implied as such. ❝It would take a few moments, but I could mark down a few basic notes for you to follow. Granted, this level of machinery is beyond my own level of experience - but regardless, I cannot help but think it's pitiable to have others in a situation similar to my own. Would you like some help, is what I'm asking.❞

no hope

(533*1.25)=666.25 words

Sphinx

?

[Sphinx]

Pointed ears perked at the stranger's voice, and Sphinx jumped in his chair at the odd motion, still getting used to the new physical features on his Werecat body. "I would love some help, actually!" he shot back, spinning around in his chair to face the source of the offer, suddenly beaming brightly where he'd been frustrated a moment before. Sphinx wasn't the sort to go out and ask for help, but he certainly wasn't going to deny it when it was offered to him--especially not with how little knowledge he possessed of crafting. Now he was facing what he assumed was a human, the little information window popped up to let him know the basics: That in fact this person was a Half-Alv, not human--man it was hard to tell the difference!--as well as his subclasses and his status as a Lander. That left him.. a bit surprised that the guy was still at such a low level, but he paid it little mind and instead waved a hand over what was supposed to be spare parts for Van Rogue's kitchen appliances. "Aaaas you can see, I don't really know what I'm doing over here, so even a few tips would be great. Assuming you don't mind helping out an Adventurer." Where Landers had only been NPCs before, meant to give quests and make the game seem more realistic, since all the logged-in players had been trapped in the game, Elder Tale seemed to have taken on a life of its own, which included the Landers. Sphinx wasn't sure if it was artificial intelligence, or if they'd somehow been placed into a separate world exactly like Elder Tale, but they seemed to possess free will and had their own desires, so as far as this Werecat was concerned, they were normal people. More normal than them, the Adventurers, in fact, because they didn't come back to life when they died. But back to the situation at hand. A situation similar to my own.. "So, you need some help with your crafting class, too? I dunno how much help I'd be. Mechanic and Scribe are pretty far off in terms of similarities... Outside of blueprints, or something, anyway. If you think you could do anything like that, it might help both of us gain some experience, if nothing else." Which could be useful, if for no other reason than enabling them to attempt higher level crafts. Sphinx couldn't recall exactly what Van Rogue wanted the scribes to make for him, but he was pretty sure there hadn't been anything available to a level one of that particular subclass. Plus, Sphinx wasn't entirely sure what else he could do, at this point. He could make more of the same thing he'd just made, but that'd be.. boring. And he wasn't even sure his little creation would work, anyways. Besides, how many spare parts would really be necessary? But he wouldn't be able to make the other requested craft--an actual kitchen appliance--until he was a level twenty mechanic, and the Werecat doubted he would be able to gain that much experience before the end date of the event. "Maybe with a blueprint, I could at least make something better than this."

HP: 100% MP: 100% TAG: Morgan WORD COUNT: (535*1.25) = 668.75 NOTES

aeron at thq

[Morgan]

[googlefont="PT Serif:700italic"][googlefont="Cabin:400"][googlefont="Cabin:400italic"]

Alles zu seiner Zeit.

Morgan quietly received the words of the feline man, nodding - though just slightly - every time there was a pause. If only to show that he understood the situation well enough, Morgan decided on stressing that he was doing his best to be courteous - but despite that, he felt the slightest urge to pat this man on the head.

Luckily enough for Morgan, he could push that idea into the back of his head so long as this person decided to keep on speaking. Focusing on something kept his brain busy and without needless thoughts - thoughs like how fluffy this catman's head was, how much Morgan wondered about scratching behind the ears and, and...well, moving on.

The catman waving his arms over his attempts at mechanisms, Morgan got the idea to send a quick shot of his Evaluate skill at the werecat. Which he then did - casually, however. A very fast laser shot, without the slightest sensation, would strike the back of the cat's head, which Morgan then used to get a grasp of his character.

Out of minor habit, he began writing on the sheets of paper as he read, and it was here that his mental capabilities were shown. Multitasking was a facet necessary for any tactician, after all. Morgan opened his mouth to speak in his standard passive manner, all the while reading and writing neatly at the same time.

❝I can't object to this at all, no. When I woke up and couldn't remember a thing of my past, the first person who helped me was an Adventurer. I don't discriminate. We're all people, aren't we? And besides, we're all following the same rules of the world. No need to get pedantic over petty little things like that. All the same, however, I can't find myself chasing battle anytime soon. That's why I'm here, since I would much rather not die. Explains my lack of experience, which you said we should work on gaining.❞

Whilst saying that, Morgan had written down a sheet of paper that had legible writing on it, surprising for how much he had spoken. Regardless, despite being legible, his penmanship was somewhat narrow and fine, to the point where anyone would have to squint to read it. Perhaps that was the price he had to pay for not thinking about having anyone else read his work. However, it seemed that he would have to find a way to fix that soon enough.

❝Blue...prints? Ah, you mean the diagrams - I believe I overheard someone make mention of those once beforehand. Sadly, I lack any blue paper. Would this parchment work well, do you think? I can more than likely write - or draw, rather - something that could give you a visual image to work on...but that most likely won't give you any bonuses or the like. The most important thing to crafting like this is to get a feel for it yourself, I believe. If you can find yourself making one of these mechanisms, I can more than likely replicate the process in a drawing, but it is just as likely that your success is a necessity before I can work on anything. I apologize. If you would need some technical help...perhaps I can assist? If it's simple assembly, that is.❞

Granted, they likely wouldn't be speaking in the first place if it was that simple, but Morgan had hope - and hope could fuel a person more effectively than anything other.

into the unknown

(580*1.25)=725 words

Sphinx

?