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Kit Gray

"I'm the best damned mechanic around. Anyone who tells you otherwise is either lying, or crazy."

0 · 263 views · located in Mechiverse

a character in “The Unbroken”, as played by Sylwyn


Full Name: Kitara Grayson
Age: 19
Person: 7
Gender: Female

Nicknames: Spitfire, The Volcano, Kitty
Only Ricky gets away with calling her Kitty.

Alias: Kit Gray
She is known around the neighborhood as "Kit Gray," for her knack for diagnosing and repairing nearly any mechanical problem with a vehicle.

Personality: Kitara isn't quick-tempered, but she is hotheaded and highly judgmental of others. She has a tendency to bottle her feelings inside until her rage boils over and she lets loose on anyone, whether verbally, or physically. When in such an embroiled state, Ricky, the one person besides herself whom she trusts almost explicitly, can usually calm her down and make her see reason. She tends to be condescending to people she neither likes nor trusts, in particular those who act stupid and are lacking in common sense, at least, according to her. Kit has a wry sense of humor, and will crack jokes at nearly everyone's expense, including her own. The idea that even hardened souls are soft at heart rings true, for beneath the toughness, her feelings run much deeper than she lets on. Years of suppressing her emotions have taught her to control them for fear of being hurt, and very few people get, or choose, to see past her icy exterior.

History: In school, Kitara was labeled as a genius by her teachers, but she hated the slow, repetitive pace of the given curriculum. With few friends her own age, and no encouragement from her family to excel, she ditched classes more often than not, and only passed secondary school at the behest of a select few teachers who offered her a chance to retake her final exams in exchange for passing grades. She grew up in a dysfunctional family with an abusive father, though skilled mechanic, who left when she was thirteen, and an alcoholic mother who worked as a stripper and brought home a different man every night to make ends meet, but spent most of her money on booze. After growing sick of coming home to find her mother facedown in her own vomit, Kitara took some of her mother's money and some she had saved to run away from home when she was sixteen. She traveled to the big city where she worked several odd jobs a until she could afford a studio flat in the ghetto.

Eventually, she landed a job as an apprentice clock maker for a local shop where she learned to build and repair watches, compasses and gauges. Her greatest interest in school (and probably the only class she showed for), aside from Astronomy and Literature, was Mechanics, where she could experiment with and build simple flying contraptions. Flying gave her an escape, and a certain freedom she could cling to. On the lookout for ways to make extra money, she entered a race in the same year she left home, winning first prize in the form of enough cash to start building her own flying machine out of her garage. Every week, she would take a little extra money she saved to buy scrap and spare parts from the junkyard. Word of her mechanical prowess got around, and she ended up turning her work space into a makeshift auto shop, and now runs a side business out of her garage.

One night about a year ago, she was on her way home from the store heading down the alley she frequently took as a shortcut, when she found a man with a gunshot wound and bleeding out on the street. Thinking she could not just leave a guy to die, she took him in and nursed him back to health. When he was quite literally back on his feet, he offered to repay her by working under her as an apprentice mechanic. Normally distrustful of anyone's intentions, she nonetheless saw the opportunity to teach someone else the tools and tricks of the trade. As a result, she made a close friend and formed a solid partnership for her budding business. Not one to get deeply involved with current events, she was content to work in relative peace, ignorant of the goings on in the outside world, until a certain someone pestered her enough times that she, too, took an interest in figuring out why all the lights were going out. After all, the world, was no doubt going to need someone with brains and a mean right hook with a wrench.

So begins...

Kit Gray's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kit Gray Character Portrait: Ricky Markev Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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#, as written by Sylwyn
Kit Gray had been busy with customer vehicles since opening up shop. For nearly two hours, now, she lay underneath a hover capsule with a broken rear axle, humming to some old tune on the radio while she worked, the only other sound that of her tinkering, until, at long last, she put both feet flat on the ground to either side of the skateboard she'd been using as as makeshift workbench and pushed out from underneath the vehicle.

"I really need to fix this place up," she muttered, looking around at her workspace. She set her wrench to one side and stood up to brush off her dusty coveralls. "Well, that takes care of that."

A bit disoriented from doing the horizontal mambo with her latest job, the mechanic glanced around the garage, searching until her eyes came to rest on the thin stack of shipping and delivery records beside the radio on top of the table across from her. She pushed aside a few odd wrappers and picked up what was left of the morning's mug of coffee to reveal a brown ring marring the corner of the top record. Taking a swallow of the cold, creamy liquid, she licked her fingertip and leafed through the first three pages, talking aloud to herself. "So, what's on the agenda this afternoon? Let's see... Colch, Collins, ah... Caracona." She grasped the page between thumb and forefinger and edged it out, mouth parting into a grin as she recognized the alternate name she handwrote at the top right corner. "Says here, we have a special delivery for you. Shipping is C-O-D, and it looks like you're a long-term customer, so no delivery charge. Due in one hour, hmm? I know just who to call."

Of course, there was no one else to call, but she was nonetheless eager. Eyeing up the stack of boxes in the far corner, she twisted the dial on the radio to kill the volume, and pressed for the big red button on the wall above it, activating the intercom she'd jury-rigged and connected to the apartment. Kit had to admit, she especially loved pressing that button.

"Hey, Speedy? You remember that order that came in yesterday?" She waited only a beat before continuing without giving him a chance to reply. Ricky knew her routine well enough already, anyway. She'd send him off to drop of packages while she finished filling in invoicing she'd drafted up on her little typewriter. They'd sometimes meet and grab a bite for lunch on the way to Ticktock, the weathered old shop where she worked evenings, and if he still had things to do at the garage, he would head back to finish if they didn't already close up shop before leaving their complex. "Get your butt up here," she said in that easy, informal tone she reserved just for him. "I have another job for you."

After gulping down the rest of her hours-old beverage, Kit settled down with a hot, somewhat fresh cup from the copper percolator on her desk, and swiped a bunch of past due utility bills into a wastecan to make room for the garage's repair invoices. Her mind rampant with mass calculations and esitimates of the week-end's net profit, she ran a hand through the disheveled twin plaits in her dark brown hair, briefly considering the addition of 'Hire a Secretary' to her mental list of 'Things to do When I Get Rich.'

Upon receiving the delivery order, Ricky wasted no time in getting up off the bed he was lazing around on. He was down by the time Kit got herself another cup of coffee, eager to finally do something today, which had been rather uneventful so far. The job that his pal had been working on didn't require his assistance, so he just stayed in the apartment listening to the radio, looking at the streets through the window.

"So who's the lucky guy you're sending me off to, Kitty?" the former thief asked playfully. Anyone else who addressed her by that name would've been sporting a black eye by now. Ricky enjoyed having such a privilege.

Without looking up or breaking pen stroke, she said, "Actually, this time, he is a she. You know the girl who works out not too far from the junkyard? Tilletha Caracona, but everyone calls her Tylt, one of our regulars. She ordered some miscellaneous parts from the catalogue last week I had to pay out of pocket for, plus offered to buy out our extra scrap metal from those welding jobs last month. Figured we could use the extra cash to meet our quota."

"If only we had more customers like her, am I right?" Ricky added. He practically knew the route to Tylt's place by heart now.

"Yeah," Kit agreed with a chuckle. She stopped writing and dotted the end of her description for today's job. Finally sitting upright, she gave a rather cat-like stretch and leaned over the back of her chair. Her eyes found the flying machine suspended from their ceiling as she handed Ricky two neatly folded invoices, one for Caracona, and the other for the lucky bastard who had dropped off his hover capsule yesterday. "With any luck, I'll have enough leftover to buy the last couple of parts to get that bird in the air next week... Oh, and speaking of guys, when you stop by to give Mr.-" she took the second invoice briefly to catch a glimpse of the heading at the top of the page before handing it over. "Gerranraip-" she tried the name on her tongue a little akwardly. Gare-an-rape. Guessing at the pronunciation of oddball surnames had never been her strong suit. "-his invoice, you might infer the consequences of his offering to pay to see me take off my overalls and cover myself in grease when he comes to pick up his vehicle tomorrow. I'm a mechanic, not a stripper," she said with a glower. "I don't get paid to dance around and look pretty."

"Don't worry, I'll make him see sense if he tries to make a big issue about it," the mechanic's apprentice said with a certain implying tone in his voice before quickly switching back to normal. "Still, if you were paid to look pretty, we'd have to charge extra for people who stop by!"

Kit turned round in her chair to throw a half-hearted punch at his stomach. "You're lucky I like you."

"And that makes me luckier than any other bloke I know," Ricky retorted, although there was indeed a bit of solemn truth in those words. "Anyway, I'll get going now, shall I?" Without waiting for much in the way of an answer, he started to collect the packages into a small backpack. Both of 'em knew what the answer was gonna be, anyhow.

"What would I do without you?" she said rather quietly with a half-smile, nursing her coffee while he packed. She wasn't much for expressing herself too seriously, but she always made sure to show her appreciation for him in small ways here and there. Since showing up, he'd taken a load of weight off her shoulders, and given enough time, she was sure the two of them could really turn the shop around. "You still want to meet up for a late lunch before I go back to work tonight?" she asked, between sips. "I'm buying."

"How could I resist such an offer?" he replied, grinning. With little other conversation exchanged, Ricky left the garage and bolted down the street towards Tylt's place, dodging and jumping over any obstacles that were in his way with ease.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kit Gray Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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#, as written by Sylwyn
Kit pored over the numerous calculations and scribbles on the garage paperwork, pausing only to take a sip of coffee or double-check her work. Reaching the final product, however, she realized the projected numbers and what was on the page did not quite match. She sighed in exasperation, ready to go back through and start from the beginning, when she spotted an invoice she had overlooked poking its little head up from underneath the corner of an old receipt. "Well, well, how did you get here?"

Not one to complain over finding lost gold, she added in the missing paperwork and got her hopes up a little too soon, for no sooner did she carry a few extra numbers over from her previous result, than she discovered the addition merely deducted another sum of 100 off the business tax payments, thus increasing the amount owed to those government sods. After all was accounted for, the remainder was the garage's net profit, and the numbers looked small, leaving an otherwise short pay week for Ricky, mainly.

At this rate, they'd have to cut back hours at the garage just to save money. She wasn't about to short her only employee, and, fortunately Ricky wasn't normally one to ask questions about money since she paid him under the table, so Kit took a couple hundred out of her cut and stuffed it into the envelope she had set aside for his pay week. At least, then, he'd have just about as much money as she pocketed. He probably won't even notice the difference, if I don't say anything. The parts for the bird, however inexpensive and simple, were just going to have to wait until next week.

Closing up shop downstairs by turning off the "Open" sign outside the garage, she left the door open and headed up to the apartment to change into something clean for her next job.