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Description

[DOC APP HERE] ROBIN J. LOVELACE
◬ PRONOUNS
she/her
◬ AGE
28
◬ DOB
april 20
◬ HEIGHT
5’11”

---

COMBAT
◬ JOB
deckhand
◬ SPECIALIZATION
repairman
◬ WEAPON
pistol

◬ BOON
Mechanical Proficiency | +3 DEX
A proficient understanding in the operation and construction of mechanical devices. A good ability to have for both repairing equipment and breaking it efficiently.

◬ STATS
STR | 0 CON | 3 INT | 0
DEX | 3 +3 CHA | 0 LUK | 4

---

PERSONALITY
◬ IMPULSIVE, INSTIGATOR, DILIGENT
direct, abrasive, curious, uncouth, tolerant

There’s a saying, it’s better to apologize than ask permission.
Robin doesn’t usually find use for either. Most choices she makes are on impulse -- there isn’t enough time between deciding to do the thing and doing it for her to actually ask anyone’s permission -- and she isn’t one to hand out half-assed apologies when she isn’t sorry at all. Her choices, while made impulsively, aren’t often regretted. At worst, her curiosity is satisfied. What’s there to regret?
Others’ feelings aren’t really a motivation for her. She isn’t going to apologize or mince words to placate another person, and she doesn’t expect anyone else to do the same for her. It’s easier to just be straightforward.
It’s hard for her to find a reason to be anything less than direct with most things. Why take the side entrance when the front door is right there? Why try to figure out puzzles when you could just break them and see what’s inside? Especially when it comes to matters of dealing with people, it’s generally useless to try and guess and hope at what the other person is thinking.
All this shouldn’t be misconstrued for malice, though. While it’d be hard to call Robin anything resembling “level-headed,” she’s quite hard to anger. It’s a waste of time and energy to let other people’s bullshit get to her.
Even her pension for intentionally bothering or riling others up isn’t usually due to any sort of antagonism towards the person. In the simplest of terms, it’s just fun to start shit.
Work, or specifically Work Not Working, is the most likely thing to frustrate her. Her own inability to do something grates on her nerves more than anything else ever could. The only solution, obviously, is to get good enough at what she’s doing that she can’t find any relevant inabilities. If she’s working on a project and encounters a problem? Keep working on it until the problem is solved. Despite all her loud, rash behavior she can be surprisingly diligent.

---

HISTORY
◬ TL;DR
Robin, in the search for a decent prosthesis for her arm, meets Liza. He’s a craftsman specializing in clockwork and mechanical crafts. He makes an arm for her, and she takes quite a liking to it.
Despite how much she adores the arm, being a rowdy child, she tends to break it pretty frequently. It’s not all bad, though. She ends up befriending Liza -- and his captain-turned-husband, Zihao -- learning about his past as a pirate along the way.
Robin becomes interested in learning the ropes with mechanics, and after a great deal of Robin being obnoxious, Liza agrees to take her under his wing as an apprentice.
As it turns out, Liza takes yearly trips to Driftwood as a traveling salesman of sorts, and after a few long years of apprenticeship he decides to take Robin along.

◬ 1.

Most of the arms Robin had been given over the course of her (as of yet) short life were… unpleasant. They were too heavy, they chafed, they dug into her skin. And all for something that was, in essence, decorative.
They were solid pieces of material, unable to move and bend. They were pieces of art, ornamental, carefully created and decorated to look as normal as possible. To make other people more comfortable looking at her.

But this one was different.

The weight was distributed well, it was comfortable, and everything that touched skin was padded with soft materials. Noticeably hollow parts to spare weight, and bare metal. Fingers that looked like a skeleton crafted out of steel. Exposed hinges and joints.
Joints, because it moved. Depending on how she moved her upper arm, the elbow would bend, or the entire arm would twist. On the inside of the wrist was a cord she could pull to make the fingers curl into a fist.
Watching it move was bizarre, the movements oddly delicate and unnaturally refined. It creaked and tinkled metalically with every twist or curl.
It looked unsettling. It wouldn’t be a comfort to anyone looking at her, she’s pretty sure it might make most kids her age squeal in fear.

It was perfect.

And Robin proceeded to break it within two weeks, and cry until it was promised they’d go back to the craftsman and ask him to fix it. Which he did, shockingly, for only the cost of parts.
It became a routine to see him once every few weeks, either for regular maintenance, resizing, or because Robin managed to rip off one of the fingers or horribly dent the casing. Every time she came in, he seemed both horrified and intrigued by her ability to break it in ways he hadn’t previously considered.
It wasn’t exactly surprising that with all this time between them, she got to know the guy.
His name was Liza. He was in his 30’s, he had told her that pretty indignantly after she called him old. He told really awful jokes that were only funny because they were so bad. He also told very good stories about pirates, and even said he used to be one. His captain was mutinied by other members of the crew, but he was loyal to a fault and was sent overboard with him. They retired to Mediterra a few years earlier.
She met him, too. The Captain. His name was Zihao, apparently. He came down into the workshop while Robin was there one evening, staying late because she’d broken the arm again in a particularly spectacular way.
He was incredibly friendly, and kind, and he smiled very warmly, especially at Liza. One of his legs -- though she couldn’t see it -- made the same metallic noises as her arm did.
Robin was delighted to watch Zihao, oddly gently, chastise Liza for staying up too late before retreating back upstairs into the living space above the workshop. Usually she was the one getting chastised by Liza, so it was refreshing.

◬ 2.

As she got older and more coordinated, and her arm got progressively more Robin-proofed, she saw less of Liza. It made a void in her life.
So she did the most logical thing and intentionally jammed her arm in some heavy machinery. She came to him with a completely demolished hand and forearm. It was very enjoyable to see his shock and horror at just how badly she’d managed to fuck the thing up.
“Teach me,” Robin says, as she watches him work. Liza snorts, passing it off as a child’s whim, and tells her the very unhelpful basics.
That was alright. She was stubborn. She’d come back. Every day seemed like it would be most effective.
It started out with her being intentionally obnoxious to any customer who came in. That didn’t last long, as Liza did like making a living, so he started giving her things to do. Organizing stock, cleaning tools, oiling the displays. It was nice, to be trusted to do things.
Every day, when Liza was closing up, she’d ask again. And again. And again, until finally he crosses his arms over his chest and levels her with a stern look.
“Why do you want to learn?”
“Because I’m definitely gonna keep breaking this, and some day you’re gonna die. Then what am I going to do?”
The bluntness of it startles him, then makes him laugh. It was somehow both exasperated and fond. “That all?”
Robin pauses. She stares down at her hands, flesh and blood fingers restlessly playing with spindly metal ones. “It’s cool. Seeing the stuff you make move. And… nobody’s ever trusted me to do anything before. Because I’ll cause trouble, or because they think I won’t be able to handle it.”
A hand claps her on the shoulder, and she looks up to see Liza smiling down at her. “Alright. I get it.”

◬ 3.

From then on, they ended up working together. At first she was mostly manning the shop, sometimes repairing simple things with supervision. Replacing gears or fixing belts. Eventually Liza gave her full projects to carry out all on her own after seeing the little contraptions she’d made while bored.
Once a year, Liza would pack up a bunch of his devices, and leave for a couple weeks. It’s been happening the entire time she’s known him, but she never really got the chance to ask why until she started working full time at the shop.
“He’s going to Driftwood,” Zihao told her while they both sorted through a new shipment of steel gears.
Going to see old friends, and sell his wares to pirates with an eye for technological advancements.
Sometimes Zihao would stay, sometimes he’d go with.
Each year Robin would beg to go along, only to be told “some other time” and brushed off. And despite how good Robin was at being insufferable until she got what she wanted, even she knew a lost cause when she saw it.
Robin had long given up on going when Liza asked her if she wanted to join him for the first time. A birthday gift, he tells her. She jumped at the opportunity.
Driftwood was obviously fascinating. So many new people, a bizarre culture and landscape unlike anything she’d ever seen. It was surprisingly easy for her to get into her element there. She never really had a customer service smile, but most of the people in Driftwood didn’t care, or were too intimidated to comment.
As weary as Liza looked at the end of the trips, he couldn’t deny she’d boosted his sales with her… Enthusiastic sales techniques.
She became a permanent fixture of the trips, and the routine gracefully shifted to accommodate that.

This year, when the trip rolled around, it seemed to have something different in store for her.

Description

[DOC APP HERE] ROBIN J. LOVELACE
◬ PRONOUNS
she/her
◬ AGE
28
◬ DOB
april 20
◬ HEIGHT
5’11”

---

COMBAT
◬ JOB
deckhand
◬ SPECIALIZATION
repairman
◬ WEAPON
pistol

◬ BOON
Mechanical Proficiency | +3 DEX
A proficient understanding in the operation and construction of mechanical devices. A good ability to have for both repairing equipment and breaking it efficiently.

◬ STATS
STR | 0 CON | 3 INT | 0
DEX | 3 +3 CHA | 0 LUK | 4

---

PERSONALITY
◬ IMPULSIVE, INSTIGATOR, DILIGENT
direct, abrasive, curious, uncouth, tolerant

There’s a saying, it’s better to apologize than ask permission.
Robin doesn’t usually find use for either. Most choices she makes are on impulse -- there isn’t enough time between deciding to do the thing and doing it for her to actually ask anyone’s permission -- and she isn’t one to hand out half-assed apologies when she isn’t sorry at all. Her choices, while made impulsively, aren’t often regretted. At worst, her curiosity is satisfied. What’s there to regret?
Others’ feelings aren’t really a motivation for her. She isn’t going to apologize or mince words to placate another person, and she doesn’t expect anyone else to do the same for her. It’s easier to just be straightforward.
It’s hard for her to find a reason to be anything less than direct with most things. Why take the side entrance when the front door is right there? Why try to figure out puzzles when you could just break them and see what’s inside? Especially when it comes to matters of dealing with people, it’s generally useless to try and guess and hope at what the other person is thinking.
All this shouldn’t be misconstrued for malice, though. While it’d be hard to call Robin anything resembling “level-headed,” she’s quite hard to anger. It’s a waste of time and energy to let other people’s bullshit get to her.
Even her pension for intentionally bothering or riling others up isn’t usually due to any sort of antagonism towards the person. In the simplest of terms, it’s just fun to start shit.
Work, or specifically Work Not Working, is the most likely thing to frustrate her. Her own inability to do something grates on her nerves more than anything else ever could. The only solution, obviously, is to get good enough at what she’s doing that she can’t find any relevant inabilities. If she’s working on a project and encounters a problem? Keep working on it until the problem is solved. Despite all her loud, rash behavior she can be surprisingly diligent.

---

HISTORY
◬ TL;DR
Robin, in the search for a decent prosthesis for her arm, meets Liza. He’s a craftsman specializing in clockwork and mechanical crafts. He makes an arm for her, and she takes quite a liking to it.
Despite how much she adores the arm, being a rowdy child, she tends to break it pretty frequently. It’s not all bad, though. She ends up befriending Liza -- and his captain-turned-husband, Zihao -- learning about his past as a pirate along the way.
Robin becomes interested in learning the ropes with mechanics, and after a great deal of Robin being obnoxious, Liza agrees to take her under his wing as an apprentice.
As it turns out, Liza takes yearly trips to Driftwood as a traveling salesman of sorts, and after a few long years of apprenticeship he decides to take Robin along.

◬ 1.

Most of the arms Robin had been given over the course of her (as of yet) short life were… unpleasant. They were too heavy, they chafed, they dug into her skin. And all for something that was, in essence, decorative.
They were solid pieces of material, unable to move and bend. They were pieces of art, ornamental, carefully created and decorated to look as normal as possible. To make other people more comfortable looking at her.

But this one was different.

The weight was distributed well, it was comfortable, and everything that touched skin was padded with soft materials. Noticeably hollow parts to spare weight, and bare metal. Fingers that looked like a skeleton crafted out of steel. Exposed hinges and joints.
Joints, because it moved. Depending on how she moved her upper arm, the elbow would bend, or the entire arm would twist. On the inside of the wrist was a cord she could pull to make the fingers curl into a fist.
Watching it move was bizarre, the movements oddly delicate and unnaturally refined. It creaked and tinkled metalically with every twist or curl.
It looked unsettling. It wouldn’t be a comfort to anyone looking at her, she’s pretty sure it might make most kids her age squeal in fear.

It was perfect.

And Robin proceeded to break it within two weeks, and cry until it was promised they’d go back to the craftsman and ask him to fix it. Which he did, shockingly, for only the cost of parts.
It became a routine to see him once every few weeks, either for regular maintenance, resizing, or because Robin managed to rip off one of the fingers or horribly dent the casing. Every time she came in, he seemed both horrified and intrigued by her ability to break it in ways he hadn’t previously considered.
It wasn’t exactly surprising that with all this time between them, she got to know the guy.
His name was Liza. He was in his 30’s, he had told her that pretty indignantly after she called him old. He told really awful jokes that were only funny because they were so bad. He also told very good stories about pirates, and even said he used to be one. His captain was mutinied by other members of the crew, but he was loyal to a fault and was sent overboard with him. They retired to Mediterra a few years earlier.
She met him, too. The Captain. His name was Zihao, apparently. He came down into the workshop while Robin was there one evening, staying late because she’d broken the arm again in a particularly spectacular way.
He was incredibly friendly, and kind, and he smiled very warmly, especially at Liza. One of his legs -- though she couldn’t see it -- made the same metallic noises as her arm did.
Robin was delighted to watch Zihao, oddly gently, chastise Liza for staying up too late before retreating back upstairs into the living space above the workshop. Usually she was the one getting chastised by Liza, so it was refreshing.

◬ 2.

As she got older and more coordinated, and her arm got progressively more Robin-proofed, she saw less of Liza. It made a void in her life.
So she did the most logical thing and intentionally jammed her arm in some heavy machinery. She came to him with a completely demolished hand and forearm. It was very enjoyable to see his shock and horror at just how badly she’d managed to fuck the thing up.
“Teach me,” Robin says, as she watches him work. Liza snorts, passing it off as a child’s whim, and tells her the very unhelpful basics.
That was alright. She was stubborn. She’d come back. Every day seemed like it would be most effective.
It started out with her being intentionally obnoxious to any customer who came in. That didn’t last long, as Liza did like making a living, so he started giving her things to do. Organizing stock, cleaning tools, oiling the displays. It was nice, to be trusted to do things.
Every day, when Liza was closing up, she’d ask again. And again. And again, until finally he crosses his arms over his chest and levels her with a stern look.
“Why do you want to learn?”
“Because I’m definitely gonna keep breaking this, and some day you’re gonna die. Then what am I going to do?”
The bluntness of it startles him, then makes him laugh. It was somehow both exasperated and fond. “That all?”
Robin pauses. She stares down at her hands, flesh and blood fingers restlessly playing with spindly metal ones. “It’s cool. Seeing the stuff you make move. And… nobody’s ever trusted me to do anything before. Because I’ll cause trouble, or because they think I won’t be able to handle it.”
A hand claps her on the shoulder, and she looks up to see Liza smiling down at her. “Alright. I get it.”

◬ 3.

From then on, they ended up working together. At first she was mostly manning the shop, sometimes repairing simple things with supervision. Replacing gears or fixing belts. Eventually Liza gave her full projects to carry out all on her own after seeing the little contraptions she’d made while bored.
Once a year, Liza would pack up a bunch of his devices, and leave for a couple weeks. It’s been happening the entire time she’s known him, but she never really got the chance to ask why until she started working full time at the shop.
“He’s going to Driftwood,” Zihao told her while they both sorted through a new shipment of steel gears.
Going to see old friends, and sell his wares to pirates with an eye for technological advancements.
Sometimes Zihao would stay, sometimes he’d go with.
Each year Robin would beg to go along, only to be told “some other time” and brushed off. And despite how good Robin was at being insufferable until she got what she wanted, even she knew a lost cause when she saw it.
Robin had long given up on going when Liza asked her if she wanted to join him for the first time. A birthday gift, he tells her. She jumped at the opportunity.
Driftwood was obviously fascinating. So many new people, a bizarre culture and landscape unlike anything she’d ever seen. It was surprisingly easy for her to get into her element there. She never really had a customer service smile, but most of the people in Driftwood didn’t care, or were too intimidated to comment.
As weary as Liza looked at the end of the trips, he couldn’t deny she’d boosted his sales with her… Enthusiastic sales techniques.
She became a permanent fixture of the trips, and the routine gracefully shifted to accommodate that.

This year, when the trip rolled around, it seemed to have something different in store for her.