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Miandra Vrahl

"...That is not how to put it together. Here, let me!" (WIP)

0 · 230 views · located in Arcania

a character in “TiV: Rebirth”, as played by Imp

Description

Name
Miandra Vrahl

Age
21

Sex
Female

Role

Handyman aboard The Rooster.
There is always something to do and something to fix, and whatever it is Miandra will gett elbow deep into it. She doesn't mind much, its an easy trade for getting to travel on The Rooster.

Appearance
Average height, blond hair in a bob-cut, Bright grey eyes with a hint of green. Carries herself straight, doesn't always know where to place her hands. Often wearing a mild frown on her brow. Quick to a gentle smirk. One or two freckles. A small scar on her jaw-bone, under her right ear after an accident. Wears sturdy clothing, reinforced with leather or metal where needed. Not to saggy, not to tight. Movability is an important feature for her. You hardly ever see her without a par of protective leather gloves in her backpocket.
Image
Miandra as she sat out from her hometown.

Image
Miandra, posing onboard The Rooster.


Height
170-ish

Weight
ca 68 kg

Personality
Idle and a bit impatient. Dosen't like to sit still when there is something to be done. Not the best at saying what she really feels, but easy with people. Someone to chat along with, but not one who you would get close to just like that. Likes her lone time to be quiet. A tad prudish (blushes easily), yet with a broad sense of humor. Dosen't always know what to say and sulks a bit to easily, but quite pure-hearted. Unforgiving when crossed, in a child like yet violent way. A bit to curious for her own taste. Without being comfortable with it, very big in her emotions when pushed.

Likes
Trains. Or more, the insides if trains! Or rather what trains do: Travel! She longs to wander and roam. She likes the feeling of being on the road in itself. Sets her at rest. A feeling she dresses in few worded poems about cold mountain lakes and pure intentions. She also likes to giggle about small stuff.
Amongst other things: The feeling of amazement one can get when exploring the insides of machinery or such things. A good beer and a good friend. Dancing and music, although she's a bit shy about it.

Dislikes
Invasive behavior, when things that ought to be done gets neglected, people with bad luck. Being weaker. Lack of focus.

Sexual Preference
Not to well versed, had a crush as a teenager on one of the boys in her neighborhood. Did not end gracefully. Now not too daring, but in no way dead inside. Lets talk about something else, shall we?

Abilities
Strong body, a good sense of how things connect and work (both magical and machinery). Stubborn and thorough. Good with locks...
She's very independent in herself, something that grants her freedom, yet creates some loneliness.

Equipment

Image
Small hand gun, a traveling gift from her grandfather. Old but trustworthy.

A set of dirks, well hidden in her bag-pack.

Working gear, loose enough to maneuver with, tight enough not to get stuck around machinery. Brown-green-ish, reinforced with leather where needed. Oil. Lots of oil.

Image
Lovely but well worn old brass/leather coated helmet, reinforced in the neck to protect from falling impact. Goggles. Got to have goggles.



History
Born in a rather big, yet loving, household with more brothers than sisters, she was second to leave her home ( Close to the Mountain City of Eisridge), although not second in line age-wise. Her childhood was perhaps not as rich as some of that of her neighbors. But under the Vrahl's roof was a wast amount of life experiences collected. She was brought up with many different stories of life, and as her older siblings started to claim the paths closest to home, she soon sat out to follow the roads (mostly due to the fact that her elder brother, or rather, her favorite elder brother had set out to do the same a year earlier), earning herself an upkeep as an apprentice here and there. In many ways both her and her brother Eiris was spurred on by their grandfather, whom had been a roamer in his younger days. From the age of 17 to 19 she worked in a shop crafting different types of clocks, something that did not end to well and she soon after sought herself to an repair station of different drift machinery, something that worked out better with her hands.

Her eyes soon caught the magestic Trains that roamed past the city where she dwelled. She had seen them a few times as a child, but now their presence was immense in her daily life, something that would leave her sleepless at night. It was as if something with those machines, no those beasts, made her insides vibrate. She had to get one of those and travel far and wide. Somehow.

Theme Song
(A tad... silly, yet still:)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y-jVU14zwHw

Additional Notes
”…Geez. You would think that you’d get used to the smells of these small shovel cities, always on the outskirts of the bigger places. Right outside of where the fine, arranged and proper people started caring and how far that caring reached. Thats within smelling distance I suppose. Anyhow, most just hold their breath or get used to the ordeal of passing these shacks. But I never did. My brother used to call me a ”wrinklenosed little vex-twat” when we accompanied our elders to the docks. But I never ever really got it into me you know, that how to ignore all the filth and grudge of those peoples lives. I would breathe it in like a drowning rat breathes in the gutter water thats killing him, and it would poison me with fear of that kind of life. Hey, if you really are my friend, promise me that you’d rather shoot me dead, than see me in a place like that. I would’t take it. Not me. Never.”

So begins...

Miandra Vrahl's Story

Setting

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Character Portrait: Miandra Vrahl
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#, as written by Imp
It had been a long morning already, and on top of that: one without breakfast.

She had spent the main portion of her first hours out of bed, or rather, her "sack", in one of the Roosters cargo bulks idly trying to figure out several things: The most prominent of them being who might have had the bright idea of putting a half full crater of something that sounded (or rather bounced) a lot like books on top of everything else. The expensive kind, she reckoned from the leathery sound. As she had started her squeezing climb towards the runaway box, she granted herself a few seconds of loathing over having to fix whatever fools mistake it was. In this case, on top of everything else meant on top of the big crates of spare machinery that the Rooster had picked up not long ago. Crates that were not to be stacked to closely due to their various contents. And now, to her great enjoyment the small crate of books, still bouncing expensively, had fallen halfway in-between its bigger neighbors and dented an air-went entry as it danced around. She had already been thrown sideways a few times, due to another problem: a loosen strap supposed to hold the bottom part of the bigger crates. With the strap now fastened, a bruised elbow and a few not very graceful scratches on her chin, she was back to getting the now no-longer-dancing-but-indeed-very-stuck-airventbending-crate.

She had not slept very well this night. Something had been haunting her, making her turn back and forth in her bed. She'd woken up sweaty several times. Now, fumbling her way between crates and the wagon's roof, as she threw her leg down to find support enough to lift the runaway crate, she couldn't help but wonder, why? She had not had any particular dreams from what she could recall. She found herself some footing and reached down for the crate. Perhaps she should not think to much about it. After all, she thought as she grunted and lifted the crate straight, after all. What difference would it make to dwell in it.
E would taunt me for even mentioning it.
She smirked for herself and tried to push the crate right without being to careless. The thought of her older brother made her just as happy as testy inside. Being one of the middle children, well. There was a lot of mixed feelings involved.

With the crate now tucked in place between its bigger likes, she stretched her back with her hands on her belted hips. Tapping her right side and one of the belts with her fingertips, she wondered where her hammer had gone. Had she lost it somewhere on the way down? She gave the floor a few strokes with the sole of her shoe. Was something perhaps leaking? It was a bit to damp, yet not slippery. Perhaps the crates had ben moving and snapped one of their straps while doing so? She sighted. This was something to deal with after breakfast. And she'd need some help with the dented vent as well.

"This... will be one of them long days, will it not?"
She asked the cool air of the cargo-hall rhetorically. But first of all. Breakfast.
She turned around and started on her way back to the living quarters, decided not to change her actually not so dirty blouse (but gave her boots a quick brush with the broom) before washing her face and heading in the same direction as most of the rest of the crew. She stroked her wet hair back from her face, long enough to be put in a back-slick behind her ear. She looked a bit tired perhaps. But who didn't? It always felt like traveling between worlds, as one left one section of the train and entered another. From the cool and damp cargo-wagon to the well lit dining compartment. As she entered the doorway, she gave her hands a quick glance.
Clean enough.
She stepped inside, gave the place a quick look around, and made her way towards one of the empty chairs by one of the windows, eager to see what they might be passing at the moment.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Elisabeth Whitefield Character Portrait: William Caeronvar Character Portrait: Alexander 'Doc' Atreides Character Portrait: Nathaniel "The Priest" Kain Character Portrait: Miandra Vrahl
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#, as written by RCJJ23
Nathaniel had sat in the small room that had been deemed the chapel, for the better part of the morning. It had various religious symbols of many major religions, and despite first and foremost being a disciple of Cairn, Nathaniel had provided some insight and advice to the more religious passengers and staff. Objectively, of course. He wouldn't allow his own faith to disrupt others. He wasn't one of the Dogs of Cairn anymore, despite his own armaments and armor saying he was. He had removed all symbols of the Order from it, despite the difficulty in doing so. It was nearly time to eat breakfast, so he said his last prayer before leaving the chapel.

"Cairn, may you guard our souls and stay thyne blade and gift us another peaceful day, but if you demand it, may you guide my blade and let my shots fly true, for it is in your name that I do all that I do. Azen."

Nathaniel stood. He had only dressed in his plain grey t-shirt and oak brown slacks, though he had both of his weapons on him. His chainsword was clipped to his right hip while his revolver was in his holster on his left. He would pull on his armored robes first. This would take him the rest of the time he had, which was about twenty minutes, before breakfast would start to be served.

By the time he had reached there, a few of the crew had already sat down and started to eat.

"Good morning Ms. Whitefield, Mr. Caeronvar, Ms. Vrahl, Doc. I trust it has been a peaceful morning so far?" he said in way of greeting. He saw that both Alexander and Elizabeth had both taken the more prime spots for defending the doors into the dining hall, he decided to pick a spot next to Alexander. He was more likely to be spotted than him, but it would still give him ample time to react. Besides, his armor would likely take the shot or stab for him, and it wasn't like he was extremely slow or anything. He served himself a heartier breakfast than Alexander did, but still on the healthy side. He ate in silence, until someone spoke to him, or was addressed generally.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Elisabeth Whitefield Character Portrait: William Caeronvar Character Portrait: Alexander 'Doc' Atreides Character Portrait: Mackenzie Mahrone Character Portrait: Nathaniel "The Priest" Kain Character Portrait: Miandra Vrahl
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#, as written by Imp
She had let herself to a few short moments (sitting moments even) of peace, dozing of as she stared out the window without really seeing much at all. For a second or two, her own reflection caught her eyes. She looked oddly fair there in the glass, as if presented with a more refined version of herself.
A less tired and greasy one at least.
She frowned, but then smiled a little, giving her a small dimple at the corner of her mouth. Silly thoughts to have indeed.
The contents of the platters before her soon caught hold of her interest as her insides once again recalled to her the fact that it indeed had been a morning without breakfast. So far. She threw a quick glance around her as the dining compartment kept filling up with the rest of the Roosters meaty content, then peaked under the lid of the platter closest to her. Eggs.
The people around her were more or less familiar. She hadn't really talked much to anyone. She had only been aboard for a few weeks, and those weeks had mostly been spent trying to show off in order to keep her place aboard. Luckily enough, she had found herself knee deep in what could only be called "The Great Rooster Mess" and with a long list of things to do. She believed herself to have done good so far.

As "The Doctor", or at least that was what she'd begun calling him in her head, entered, she turned from the window and faced the room more frankly. He was a hard character to miss, even aboard the Rooster. She had know to place her feet when around him from the very beginning. His greeting to two of the never arrivals was as dressed up as the rest of him. One of them, a girl she believed to be called Ms. White... Whitefield it was, apparently, as she overheard or rather listened to the short conversation, gave the impression of not being someone whom the word "effortless" would ever match. But Miandra did not mind that at all, as long as the work got done properly and all. The man, on the other hand...

"...I'm asking because you left it on a stack of other people's stuff without strapping it to anything..."
She quickly looked back at the young woman again.
...It's a small box sitting on a big box. Even if it slides, it has plenty of room...
Her eyes went to the man again.

"Oh, really.."
She mumbled to herself, feeling her mood slowly turning fouler. That man, was the reason she had been up all morning tapping pipes in order to find the source of that sound (that had been the crater-of-apparently-THAT-mans-books-banging-against-an-air-went)? She followed the rest of the louder parts of the two's conversation with her chin in her hand as her elbow balanced on the edge of the table behind her. These two, or at least the man, did not sound a bit better than some of the more self-proclaiming passengers. A thought that only made her irritation grow. To her surprise, this young stripling rose up and approached her with a greeting. A quite smirky one at that. She leaned her head back in her hand which made a stripe or two of her blond hair loosen themselves from behind her ears.

"...You,"
She said as her frown grew a little,
"Are absolutely right."
She leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest, pouting out her sore chin in a slightly challenging way.
"That box of yours isn't that heavy,"
She waved one of her fingers warningly,
"...what really amazes me thou, is that you apparently found it easier to staple your, if I may say it myself, rather heavy, box upon all the other crates, instead of just.."
She gave up both her hands in an ironical gesture
"Well, I don't know. Just strap it to the floor hooks like the rest of the smaller junk?"
She widened her eyes in a faked expression of pure amazement, and then replied to the priest, Mr Kain's greeting:
"Peaceful? I wouldn't say that. But I guess I'm hoping for lunch now that I'm done hunting crates for the morning."
She turned to the Roosters Engineer, whom had just entered.
"Hey, Mahrone. I apparantly need you to close off the air through some sections of the cargo's vents. I need to weld one of the vents back in place."
She glared back at man in front of her.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Elisabeth Whitefield Character Portrait: William Caeronvar Character Portrait: Alexander 'Doc' Atreides Character Portrait: Mackenzie Mahrone Character Portrait: Nathaniel "The Priest" Kain Character Portrait: Miandra Vrahl
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Doc quietly chewed on a piece of his breakfast meal while listening to the mage dig himself deeper and deeper into a hole that would threaten to bury him alive under alienation and hate from his female coworkers he was so rudely making insinuations towards. For the sake of a peaceful remainder of the trip he would have to speak up. Well, not him specifically, but someone should probably at least attempt to curb the man's tongue before it got him any deeper into the shit list than it already apparently had. So with a quiet clearing of his throat to redirect momentary attention, Doc spoke in his 'medical professional' tone of voice that was reserved for trying to prevent someone from doing something, or continuing something, incredibly stupid. Because, like the egotistical damn mage or not, he was necessary until they reached their destination at a minimum. "As the on board medical professional and adviser, Mr. Caeronvar, I would highly recommend you cease that particular chain of commentary and offers. Some might find them offensive, and considering the able crew members you are dealing with, a couple stitches and mandatory bed rest won't be nearly enough to assuage the damage done should you push someone over their natural limits."

Could Doc repair damage short of outright murder? Certainly, enough to get the mage in a condition to keep the train moving forward as scheduled. But none of the parties involved would enjoy that experience one bit, and he could guarantee that. And hell, Doc thought with an internally amused smirk, if the Mage went and got himself killed by Ms. Mahrone his fellow in security, Mr. Kain, could see to it he had a proper burial as they figured out how to get the train the rest of the way to its destination. In continuation of keeping the situation defused though, he directed his next small statement at the two engineers, Ms. Mahrone and Ms. Vrahl. "And if it proves necessary, Ms. Mahrone, Ms. Vrahl, that our....Proud mage is going to get his head clubbed in, do please inform Father Kain so he has time to drum up something nice to say at the funeral. And try not to do it on the train, or else I would be further obligated to make an attempt to keep his insides right where they belong, inside the skin and bone, where applicable."

A slow smirk was on Doc's face, so whether he was really joking about what he said, or not, was certainly up in the air. But it was clear he addressed most everyone the exact same, in a respectful and polite manner, barring William Caeronvar on occasion. Bad blood with egotistical and egocentric mages faded slowly, and only in the face of positive examples. Mr. Caeronvar was hardly one. But he had indeed addressed Mr. Kain subtly differently, in a manner showing a more friendly vice strictly professional approach. Working security alongside the man tended to create such situations, and while Doc himself was not a religious man, he respected the beliefs of others in that regard. It was none of his business what a man, or woman, believed so long as they did their jobs to the best of their ability. Beyond that, he treated the various members as respectfully as he could, which for some was not nearly as much as for others, and never told them how to do their jobs. They did not tell him how to fix a living person, so he did not tell them how to fix their professional problems, so long as it did not interfere with security of the Rooster. He did finally respond to Kain, having addressed the situation at hand as best as he could for now. "As peaceful as one could expect with this crew, Father Kain. The morning security sweep is taken care of, so all you'll need to worry about until the PM is the spot checks and alarm response, should one be raised. I hope the morning has found you without conflict thus far?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: William Caeronvar Character Portrait: Mackenzie Mahrone Character Portrait: Miandra Vrahl
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#, as written by Byte
There was too much noise for this early in the day. And of course her favouritest friend in the whole gosh darn world was at the center of all that static that didn't even give Mackenzie a moment to answer the one and only valid request (not that she felt like responding) in a sea of incomprehensible words.

The intent in William's words hadn't really reached Mackenzie. She was, of course, still operating under subconscious suggestions, and whatever gibberish the mage had just spouted at her was responded to with a similar amount of gibberish. The only difference being that Mackenzie's answer was nothing but grumbles and growls because she had no intention of dealing with this shit more than she should. Not that she understood a single fucking word the man had uttered from his big, gaping gob.

William hadn't exactly made good standing on the engineer's list, scoring even lower than the resident preacher. Caused more problems than he solved, really. And despite his crucial role to keep the train from coming to an absolute halt, Mackenzie found little use and value in his blatant bullshittery and categorisation as bellend.

But, she was probably exaggerating. Probably.

So, reactive to the man's dubious advances or no, maybe the good doctor's interception before everything could get out of hand was, perhaps, welcomed. If a bit pointless since there was no stopping a man wanting to make a fool out of himself, and so William's continuous pestering brought something of a smile (more like an unsettling smirk) on Mackenzie's otherwise blank and tired morning-expression.

Y'know, considering he wasn't making friends with any of the ladies in the room.

And so after a long sigh, Mackenzie turned with a disinterested glance to meet William who, even without his smile, still looked as smug as ever. “Lookin' t'kick yer teeth in. Don't we, bob-cut?” she retorted. Her disinterest briefly beamed at the equally harassed girl, Miandra, who was probably just as fed up with the grand mage-king of assholia as she was.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Elisabeth Whitefield Character Portrait: William Caeronvar Character Portrait: Alexander 'Doc' Atreides Character Portrait: Mackenzie Mahrone Character Portrait: Nathaniel "The Priest" Kain Character Portrait: Miandra Vrahl
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#, as written by RCJJ23
Nathaniel continued to eat his breakfast while he listened to the conversations going around the room. He paid no mind, but he was still ready to stop any fights breaking out. They'd need the mage to keep the train moving until they reached their next destination. He turned to Alexander after finishing his current mouthful.

"Well, none of the rowdier passengers have thought it amusing to try and pick an argument in my or other people's faiths during the time I was in the chapel, so yes, the morning has been peaceful so far. I do hope that it stays that way." The last point was in general, and slightly directed at the situation that was occurring in the confines of the dining hall.

After finishing off his plate, he waved over one of the serving staff to take away his plate, and asked for a glass of water. He pushed back a bit from the table, still sitting on the chair.

"So... up for a spar later?"

It was nice enough to practice every now and then against an actual opponent. It added that layer of fighting someone that honed your own skills. Of course, he knew the Doctor would win. Most of his attacks were lethal, and as such, illegal to use against a fellow member of the crew. Still, it was good to hone his skills against another.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: William Caeronvar Character Portrait: Alexander 'Doc' Atreides Character Portrait: Nathaniel "The Priest" Kain Character Portrait: Miandra Vrahl
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Doc gave up on trying to talk sense into the mage and the women folk he was getting on the bad sides of, instead choosing to focus on the suggestion made by Father Kain. Sparring always was a good time, even if he held an advantage over the man since he could not employ the vast array of lethal techniques and maneuvers that he was capable of using. It kept him in shape, and sharp when having undergone long periods of a lack of actual combat activities. And he could always apply his knowledge of mortal anatomy to be able to do rather interesting, albeit usually extremely painful, things. So he smiled briefly and nodded towards Kain before responding. "Certainly, Father Kain, we can go another several bouts whenever you are feeling able and are free from other duties. Even if I hold an unfair advantage due to your required restraint."

Doc might have considered saying something else to the mage, or either of the two mechanically inclined women, but about that time the Captain came strolling in. Doc was one of the only men who was on his feet without a moments hesitation. Call it old army habits, he reckoned, but it was still in his blood to come to attention when an officer arrived in the room. One in his chain of command, at any rate. Once the at ease was given, he sat back down and resumed finishing his light meal. Orders were given, and with Ms. Mahrone being withheld, he decided that one of them should know about something he had found during his roves prior to breakfast, and rose once the orders were given out. "See that the passengers disembark safely, aye Captain. Ms. Vrahl, if you have a moment once the brief is done?"

Doc inclined his head to the group and excused himself from the room, opening his satchel to produce a journal and began drawing up security plans and optimizing how fast he could get the passangers off without striking one as rude or unkind. What he had to say to Ms. Vrahl, since Ms. Mahrone would be indisposed, was related to some complaints and security issues he had found on his morning patrol, the vents being one concern that bled over from both fields. But he didn't just ambush the woman the moment she set foot outside the dining room, that was rude and fell into the 'telling someone how to do their job' territory, which he tried to avoid when possible.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: William Caeronvar Character Portrait: Mackenzie Mahrone Character Portrait: Miandra Vrahl
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#, as written by Byte
The mage walking back to his rightful place wasn't so much a victory as much as it was a sigh of relief that the magraine-inducing waffler had stopped his sodding waffling. 'Thank the Gods', if Mackenzie had any she believed in. The subtle self-asserted smirk that managed to paint across her face for a brief moment had immediately reverted back to it's usual, blank expression when the alleged captain of this whole bunch sauntered into the dining hall. Looking as un-authoritarian as usual, apparently (seriously, straighten your back and demand some damn respect), prompting Mackenzie to raise a disbelieving eyebrow like always.

Not that she wanted Kovas to bark orders, but that lacklustre pose and depressive gloom hanging around the bloke just... rubbed her the wrong way. Regardless, she gave the man a two-fingered salute. “Mornin' cap'n.”

While the captain relayed his plans to the crew, Mackenzie took the opportunity to serve herself some breakfast and complementary coffee; only nodding at the captain when he mentioned her name. Really, she'd much rather get to work, do her usual morning routine – probably help Miandra with them bloody vents – than stick around. Though, part of her initial, silent scorn was likely because she had to share another portion of her day with the mage-twat.

Letting out a momentary sigh, Mackenzie turned to face Miandra. “I'll get on those vents when I'm done 'ere.”

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alexander 'Doc' Atreides Character Portrait: Nathaniel "The Priest" Kain Character Portrait: Miandra Vrahl
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Doc was reviewing his notes on the current state of the train when Ms. Vrahl came out and called to get his attention. Good, with the train coming in at speed, there could be little time wasted on securing it against any unwanted stowaways, or unwelcome boarding parties for that matter. He nodded to the woman briefly before beginning, not intending to waste her time anymore than he had to. She most likely had far more important things to do than listen to him inform her about items she may or may not already know about.

"Ah, Ms. Vrahl. I won't waste your time any more than I have to already. Morning inspection showed several damaged vents, as well as some passengers complaining about loose and/or unsecured windows due to damaged locking mechanisms. I suspect it is merely routine wear and tear, but those could constitute as breaching points for unwelcome guests. I won't presume to tell you how to do your job, however, so if its at all reasonable to work into your schedule, I would appreciate those items being taken care of sometime prior to departure from Clear Blue. Obviously, if you need anything from me, I will be available for such necessities. And if you can't find me, Father Kain might also be able to point you in the right direction. Either to find me, or whatever you might need."

In all reality, Doc did not hold any formal authority over most of the crew. Beyond security, and medical, no one was obliged to really listen to a word the man said. One more reason he was usually polite, aiming for a calm and respectful tone for most members on board the Rooster, crew or otherwise. He did say most, since no one was perfect, but he did try. Beyond that, if Ms. Vrahl had no other questions or comments on his own request of her, he would begin his rounds as the train pulled into Clear Blue, ensuring that nothing suspicious was loaded on, or off, the train without inspection. No doubt Father Kain was doing the same, so it freed Doc up for more focused work, including checking on noted security weaknesses to see if they had either been fixed or, at the very least, patched up to prevent unwelcome circumstances from occurring. Or at least making them more difficult.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: William Caeronvar Character Portrait: Alexander 'Doc' Atreides Character Portrait: Terrance Lesner Character Portrait: Miandra Vrahl
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Doc listened to Ms. Vrahl as she spoke about the ease of dealing with the vents. One less burden on his shoulders, security wise then, as he made small notes into his journal as she spoke. It was equal parts tracking addressed problems, complications in others, and possible solutions. The other part was a further documentation of each person on board the Rooster, expanding on Ms. Vrahl's entry in this case. Each crew member on board the Rooster had an entry, entailing various ailments and injuries each might have sustained over the years he had been the medical professional on board the Rooster, the cure and any necessary follow up. He also had tried his hand at analyzing people in his footnotes, based on his observations on each person. Everyone from the Captain to the humblest cook or janitor had entries, some more in depth than others. But Doc looked at Ms. Vrahl as she finished her brief with a comment towards their ever so beloved mage.

"Believe me Ms. Vrahl, Mr. Caeronvar has not made himself many friends. But his powers are necessary, even if his pride is not. Or he would have no doubt been removed already. I cannot promise anything with the windows, last time I mentioned them, the Captain effectively told me it was not a top priority. I can bring it up next time he asks about issues with the train, but I cannot promise any progress. I appreciate any work you can do, jury rigged or otherwise. And boarding up some of the windows in places not used for passengers might be wise. It is not a perfect solution, but it could be considered a stop gap measure until more permanent means to fix them might be enacted. And, frankly, leave Mr. Caeronvar's window for last to be replaced, should it suit you. If he has any further complaints about the window, feel free to direct him to me. I will explain, in detail, why his window clattering holds a low priority in the list of problems that need to be addressed for the Rooster."

Doc inclined his head towards Ms. Vrahl in a bid farewell. She was smart, and would probably have the issues she could fix figured out in no time flat. Good hands were so hard to come by, so the fact the Rooster was such a condensed number of them was an oddity indeed. Walking down to help deal with the passengers, on going and off going, he checked in on random locations and places, spot checking for problems. One such place happened to have him stumble upon Mr. Lesner, a rather new addition to the crew with an interesting choice in attire. He had little documented information on him yet, but that did not stop the older man from being polite towards the young man. Especially if he was handling dishes, which could be a possible sanitary problem if not done properly.

"Good morning, Mr. Lesner, does the day find you well enough? Any problems you might have noticed, or are suffering from, that I might be able to address?"