(Hey guys, you know what, I think that posting what I have right now is better than to delay this forever.)
(I'll edit in a hopefully little while but the basics are there, so the roleplay can be continued.)
(So here's my near-complete post:)
The workshop had always been his favorite place. For him, it was a precious little world in itself where he could spend hours either by himself or in the company of his dad. They've made many great things here over the years, he and his dad, and whatever it was patching up roofs, improving old crystal devices or simply making a nice dining table for their neighbors, ol' Gear and son got the job done alright.
Today's project was something bit more special than a simple table however.
About two weeks ago, he passed the entry test and got accepted into the Rangers. It had been a dream for some time, but for one reason or another he just couldn't bring himself to do it. His dad being ever so doubtful of him becoming a Ranger also didn't help. "That accursed forest is no place for us folks my dear sonnie. Trust ol' dad for that one," he once said, looking him straight in the eyes; "at best, ya'll just come back here within day or two, disappointed and your feet frostbitten. But at worst," his dad paused, sighed heavily and added: "at worst my son, is somethin' I truly hope I won't ever have to think about."
His warning hit Frosty real hard and has stuck with him since, sowing seeds of doubt about the coming expedition and how wise his choice really was. The look in his father's eyes was nothing he could forget either, it almost as he had been in that forest himself, fighting for his very life.
But he could hardly be speaking of his personal experience, could he?
...Well, to make things a little better, his dad's attitude changed somewhat after Frosty got accepted though, much to Frosty's surprise as he'd applied without him knowing. Instead of being furious with his son going behind his back like this, he hesitantly congratulated him when he got back home. Perhaps his dad knew that he couldn't stop him in doing whatever he'd got himself into, and thus could only prepare him for the dangers to come. That's also when his dad gave him the heavy crystal pistol he'd gotten from somewhere.
But enough of that. Said pistol was the reason of why he was here, with his welding helmet on and covered head to toe in blazing sparks. Frosty was seldom in better mood than right now, lost in a world of his own as he fiddled with the device before him, heavy electro blasting in the background as usual. He just needed to attach that cooling system beneath the barrel, connect it, and then "The Repeater" as he called it would finally be ready.
"A little finishing touch..."
Barely able to contain his excitement, Frosty powered off the welder and looked at the still glowing technological marvel before him. "The Repeater" was truly a masterpiece, unlike anything he'd ever done before. Named after it's two round burst mechanism, the pistol was heavily modified for sure. With it's removed power limitations, enhanced energy capacitor, widened barrel and newly installed cooling system to counter the excessive heating, most would say that "The Repeater" was far from anything resembling fancy. And while that was perhaps true, he couldn't care less. It was his very own creation, and if crude look and fried power cells were the price to pay for a devastating weapon that could disintegrate nearly anything in his path, then so would it be.
And now, it was time for the best part. Everything required some double checking, masterpiece or not, and he needed to ensure that the newly installed cooling system was working correctly. Unless he would want to risk it blowing up when he needed it the most, that is. "Sure, it'd be wise to delay the testin' until tomorrow, considering how very late it is and I could really use some sleep." Frosty thought sarcastically and smirked, "But to be honest, that would just be lame, and hell, if I don't wanna waste some cells after all this work!"
Thus, he wasted no time and brought "The Repeater" over to the workbench in a haste, slammed some brand-new energy cells into it and dug out a rusty metal sheet to use as a target. With all things in place, Frosty positioned himself at the other side of the workshop, raised the pistol casually and aimed at the center. Shooting was nothing new to him, as it was one of many things he and his dad did together, so Frosty was quite good shot. That was perhaps for the best, as when he took a deep breath and charged the weapon, he was reminded instantly that "The Repeater" was indeed nothing to be played around with. The raw power contained within built up at an alarming pace, the vibrations grew stronger with every passing moment and the once faint electrical humming quickly became dangerously loud. But Frosty knew what he was doing, and just as an explosion seemed imminent, he exhaled and calmly let go.
(A little bit more to come, although I now see that this is perhaps a bit too much of nothing?)