Prismatica RP

[The video starts shaky before Engineer pulls away and into focus. He stands up. and steps away. The video is set on a desk watching a table from across, with a cloth covering something roughly two feet tall. The walls are covered pinned-up blueprints. Some light from the blood red Sanguis moon just barely trickles out of the blinds in the corner. There's enough "normal" light in the room that it doesn't look like a complete horror show, at least.

Engie steps to the side. He's wearing a plain shirt with his overalls, both already dirty from grease and motor oil. He looks to his personal device's camera with a grin.]

I was thinkin' of using this thing as a video log for personal notes. But I figure this is worth sharin'.

[If you've never heard or met Engineer before, this is an extremely Texan accent. He lifts up the cloth. It's!!! A box. A tool bx. Not that interesting, until Engie hits a button behind the box, and suddenly it pops open and starts folding in on itself, transforming into something. It doesn't take long. It's a gun. A tiny, mounted gun. It beeps to life, and the top starts moving, swiveling and surveying back and forth. Engineer barks out a big, excited laugh, followed by a Very Big Yeehaw.]

Saddle my back and call me a horse!

[He claps the top of the sentry gun, looking damn pleased with himself, and looks back to the camera.]

This here's a tripod-mounted little ol' number I designed back home. S'posed to be a miniature version of the sentries I usually work with, but it builds faster and makes a helluva lot of trouble. Cute little thing, ain't it? [He chuckles.] I've been wantin' to rebuild some've my old kit back home. And damn if it didn't work! Made some upgrades, too - hell, it doesn't even need bullets anymore! It's energy now!

[Engie sits down on a stool nearby. He rubs as a shoulder as he watches his sentry turn back and forth. His excitement finally settles a little, and he sighs, contended.]

Heh. Don't know why the hell I didn't think of that when me 'n the boys got all those space guns back home. This planet's technology could talk a dog off a meat wagon.

So. I'm workin' on rebuildin' my big sentries. Got a LOT of other ideas, too... but not nearly enough supplies yet. Reckon I gotta get a real job around here. [He looks back to the camera.] Thinkin' Level 2 might want a mechanical engineer. Hell, maybe that Buwan's Stop place needs someone. Anybody got suggestions, feel free to throw 'em my way.

[Fun fact: You might notice his hands. Besides the fact one's a robotic prosthetic, the knuckles of his real hand are bruised to hell. Just barely, a corner of a deep bruise bleeds out from his left eye, mostly covered by his goggles.

Because speaking of Buwan, anyone with an ear to the ground might have heard about a certain Moonblessed with a metal fist and a bad temper in the fight arena. Bad enough that some Prismal fighters had to pull him aside and explain Sanguis to him.]