The Six Sectors

Chapter Three - Benjamin

Benjamin belongs to Vivienne on DisasterTrioIMK

Benjamin Amias Forge wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his leather glove and let out a heavy sigh, sinking lower in his chair. It had been a pretty long day so far - Sir Reginald had decided to be extraordinarily boorish today - and Ben was already exhausted. He ran his hands through his dark curls,  rubbing his eyes. Alas, he couldn’t conclude his working quite yet. The smithy would be open for at least another - he checked the pocket watch in his vest pocket - five hours. He decided to quit stalling. The tasks certainly wouldn’t do themselves. 

Ben stood up and put on his new goggles, which he had recently saved up for. They were the newest design, and had become very popular in Cogswatch, the Steampunk sector in which he lived. He glanced around the forgery, it's familiar stone floor and brick walls, the anvil in the middle of the room. Cluttered shelves filled with all sorts of tools and  knick-knacks lined the walls. Weapons of all kinds leaned against walls or lay on the ground haphazardly. A bellows sat on the floor, next to an ashen hearth. Scraps of metal and leather filled the recycle-bin, waiting to be used for some odd invention or another. This place was an old mess...but it was home.

He quickly got to work, tidying up, starting the fires, and polishing the tools. He sang softly to himself as he attended to the notes, checking the progress of each item. All that was left to do for most of the orders was to polish and add finishing touches. Except for the order for Lady Cecily, that was. Benjamin strolled over to the corner and picked up something that looked like some sort of metallic fan, which was supposed to transform into an intricate shield when opened. He examined it closely, the gears that were meant to let the fan work it’s magic shining in the setting summer sun, gentle rays streaming through the paned window. Thinking, he turned the gadget over, trying to determine what the problem was.  

The silver bell at the shop’s front door chimed softly, giving the signal that somebody had entered. “Welcome to Forge’s Forgery, I’ll be there in a moment.” Benjamin called out from behind the counter, without looking up from his work. “How attentive of you, knightingale.” Granny Forge said, clicking her tongue. Ben tore his eyes away from the fan and looked at his grandmother, smiling. She had frazzled gray hair, many laugh lines, and emerald green eyes that seemed to be filled to the brim with mischief, like she had been scheming something. 

”Gran!” Ben exclaimed, placing his goggles on the top of his head and setting the fan on his desk. He leapt to his feet to give his grandma a hug. She squeezed him tight, then, unexpectedly grabbed him by the arm, flipping him over onto the floor. He grunted, glancing over his shoulder to see his prosthetic leg in the hands of his beloved granny, who was attempting to suppress a grin. “All that training, and you lose your leg to a little old lady.” 

Her laughter filled the room as she darted around the shop. She sure was spry for a ‘little old lady.’  Ben smirked and stood on his flesh leg, finding his equilibrium before hopping after her. “Yeah, well, I’m gonna need that back, so give it-” he reached forward to snatch his leg back, but before he could, she dodged, making him lose his balance. He tipped forwards, ending up face-planted into the stone floor. “Oomph!” he exhaled, making Gran crack up even harder. She helped him up and dramatically returned his prosthetic, winking at him as the shop’s bell jingled once more.

A cyborg with spiked, light tan hair and pale skin walked in, wearing green baggy pants and a tank top, blue tennis shoes covering his feet. There was a strange apparatus attached to his back, that of which seemed to be mixing fuel and blood together, the substance flowing through his body. He had an orange human eye and a bright blue robotic one. He took in the surroundings, turning his head to look at certain things. He spotted Gran and walked over. His silver parts were all dinged up and the blue paint on his shoulder looked like it was beginning to chip. He waved at Granny Forge.