Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Year 0.

Tessa always had an amazing memory. Even in her final years she could remember almost everything that had happened to her. But, not even she could remember her time as an infant.

However, that didn't mean that what happened that day didn't leave it's impression. In fact, it just might have been the day that sealed her fate.

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A small bronze bird fluttered above a baby's crib.

"James you mustn't! Even if she won't remember, it's still unbecoming of a future lady."

"Relax dear, no harm will come of it."

Louisa Elliott huffed, her husband never listened to her. If it were up to her, she'd never let that thing get anywhere close to their daughter. Oh well, at least it wasn't a real bird. Silver lining and all that.

It still disgusted her, she had no love for au-tom-a-tons.

At some point when neather parent was looking, the bronze bird of gears landed on the infant. When she looked Louisa nearly screamed as she saw the bird peck at her baby's hand. She braced for the tantrum that she knew was coming.

Only . . . It never came.

Instead of the cries of a infant that had just been pecked by an uncaring metal beak, she herd giggles? In shocked disbelief, she watched as her daughter began playing with it!

Soon the shock turned to disgust as James took the little bird away.

How unladylike, hopefully this doesn't persist past infancy.

Neither parent noticed the hexagon that was the little birds eye.

Year 1.

Throughout her first year, Tessa couldn't remember much, only the briefest of hazes. But, as time had past, those hazes were able to be recalled with more clarity.

However even then, she knew of one sound that always brought it's confert.

Tick Tock, Tick Tock, Tick, Tock . . . Tick . . . Tock.

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James walked though the halls of his manor in annoyance.

Apparently his daughter had managed to slip away from her caretakers. If it were up to him, they'd be the looking, but Louisa insisted that he should also look. It was the staff that lost her, not him.

Incompetent, the lot of them.

It was then that the lord of Elliott manor herd it. A coo. Quickly turning the corner, James wasn't quite expecting what he saw. His daughter was playing with (more like hitting) the massive grandfather clock of the main hall. Giggling and cooing she lightly tapped the side, all while it ticked ever onward.

He supposed it made sense. The bronze and wood polish was shiny, and it made a consistent noise. James thought he remembered hearing about how young children are attracted to such things. Picking up his daughter, he spoke.

"You've caused quite a bit of trouble miss."

The one year old simply tilted her head upon hearing her father's voice.

"Honestly, this is the second time this week. We'll have to chain you down at this rate."

He paused, that wasn't a bad idea actually. He'd have to bring it up with his wife later today. Though after finishing the thought, he had a realization.

He and Louisa were trying for a second, but they've been unsuccessful. It was entirely likely that they might not even succeed, leaving Tessa their only child. If that truely was the case, he'd have to teach her in the ways of clockwork. While he'd much rather teach a male air, and it wasn't ideal, beggars couldn't exactly be choosers.

The Elliott's style of clockwork mustn't be lost, it had to survive. Their status depended on it, no matter what Louisa wanted.

Well, their was time for that later. They still had time, they all did. Who knows, maybe him and Louisa will get lucky and have a son. But if that doesn't happen by the time his asset Tessa truns four than he'll have no choice. But for now . . .

"You're still a bit small to need a chain, let's try locking your door from the outside for now."

He had to get her to room now. As he did so, his mind was filled with various ideas for a lock. As such, he never realized the main hall never had a grandfather clock until just then.

Year 2.

Ever since she turned two, Tess's memory became much better. But even then it had it's flaws, her memory wouldn't be ideal for yet another year.

Shortly after she turned two the strange clock she liked so much was added to room. She never knew why nor did she recall, but Tessa felt relaxed upon hearing that calming sound.

Tick Tock, Tick Tock, Tick, Tock . . . Tick . . . Tock.

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Louisa huffed as she turned the key to Tessa's room. It was time for her language lessons, taught by some of the best tutors money could buy.

The Elliotts obtained their vast wealth though the many trading companies they owned. They got ahead of everyone else due to early investments in gunpowder. That wealth was quadrupled from early adoption of au-tom-a-tons and airships.

All this made the Elliott name into one of the richest and most influential in the world.

As Louisa opened the door to her daughters room, she was appalled by the state it was in. Her recently obtained bed was unmade, and clothes were littered all around the room. The place was a pigsty sutibule for a barn.

What are we even paying those maids to even do?

And what was Tessa doing? Sitting in the middle of the room, rocking back and forth as she starred at that large old clock.

"Tessa."

No response.

"Tessa!"

Still nothing.

"TESSA JAMES ELLIOTT!"

That got her attention. The toddler turned around in a fright, with fear being the only thing displayed on her features. It was clear she was in trouble, though she didn't know why.

"This room is a mess! I thought I was raising a proper lady, not a barn animal!"

Tessa began whimpering upon hearing the yelling.

The woman sighed, clearly still angry. "It's time for your lessons. Follow me."

As she began to leave, she couldn't help but notice her disappointment daughter not fallowing. So she turned around and yelled again.

"I said follow!"

This time, the toddler listened. It was only recently that Tessa learned how to walk, but that didn't matter. There would be no excuses if she fell behind.

Due to the twos hasty exit, neather noticed the clocks shadow. Sunlight was coming though the windows but the clocks shadow seemed to flicker. It was as if it was being illuminated by candlelight.

Year 3.

As another year past, by now Tessa's memory is now nearly perfect. Even much later she'd understand the things she saw and heard, but for now, it was all nonsense.

Tension. Conflict. Shipment.

Battle. Destruction. Payment.

But one word always stood out to her. One that seemed far more important than the rest. She was unaware of the meanings of those words, but knew it mattered.

Scrapyard.

Her father always got irritated upon mentioning it. Tessa would ask what it ment, only to receive a rant about a temporary, cheep solution. Years later, the irony would be clear.

Because that cheep solution would be far from temporary.

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The master of the Elliott manor, James Elliott, was busy with his work. Witch only made it all the more irritating when he was interrupted by one of the maids.

"Why are you here?" He barked. "I said I wasn't to be disturbed."

The woman placed an envelope with a wax seal on his desk. Upon seeing the seal, he stopped what he was doing.

"It's for you, sir."

"Yes I see. Move along now." James waved dismissively.

The maid said nothing, only bowing her head before leaving the room.

The letter had the seal of Lord Frumptlebucket. It would have been unwise to leave it unread for too long. Pulling out a small delicate blade, a letter opener, he cracked the seal and opend the envelope.

Luckily it was nothing too terrible, just some extra details regarding the pre chosen payment. It wasn't ideal, James would have preferred a far higher amount, but it would do for now. After finishing, he turned to the forgeing hearth in his office and tossed the letter inside.

As it burned to ash, he proceeded to continue working on his latest project. A prototype of a new kind of au-tom-a-ton, one ment to be smaller, faster, and deadlier. On the wall behind it were dozens of blueprints featuring various alterations and models.

The colonies were rebeling against the crown, emboldened by aid from the French dogs.

This, of course, lead to the demand for such wepons. Honestly, just what were those colonists thinking? Going to war with the British military, how preposterous.

On each blueprint, various version names could be seen such as N-012, and V-011. On paper the designs were flawless. He just couldn't. Get them. To. Work. Each failure led to ruined gears and scrap for a future project. The current one infront of him, had J-010 inscribed on its would be 'collar bone'

It was frustrating, but that wasn't his only project.

Near the harth lay an incomplete chain. It was incomplete because it still wasn't long quite enough to provide Tessa to her entire room. Though it wouldn't be long until that wasn't the case, it only needed a dozen or so more loops.

Suddenly, the door to his study/workshop creaking open again.

"I said I wasn't to be distur-" He then saw who it was. "Oh, it's you. What are you doing here?"

His daughter looked up at him with a timid expression.

"Mother said to stop bothering her and go to you."

James sighed, why on earth would Louisa send the brat over to him? Didn't she know he was busy?

Suddenly, James had an idea. While he wouldn't be able to train her for another year, there was no harm in starting Tessa early in regards to the basest basics.

Clockwork required a good bit of strength and stamina for when you had forge a part yourself. This ment it required a fair bit of stamina, and and small amount of muscle. Not enough to be considered undignified, but enough to make an early start preferable.

"Tessa?"

His daughter looked up at him.

"Do you think you could help me with something?"

Tessa looked at him with wide but happy eyes.

"Of course!"

James gestured to an air pump ment to heat up the hearth/forge. While he could work it with ease, it would provide quite the work out for tge small child.

"Could you move this pump up and down for me?"

The innocent little girl nodded furiously.

"I'll do my best."

James smiled. Completing the chain would go much faster with an extra set of hands. No matter how small those hands may be.

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While the father and daughter worked, neither noticed the eyes watching them.

It didn't understand who it was, or why it could think.

All that it knew, was that it could.

It felt odd, watching those it presumed to be it's creators.

Soon it fell asleep, not knowing it wouldn't wake up for a vary . . . long . . . time. The last memories it had of this moment was the ticking of a grandfather clock in the study.

Not even the it noticed.

Noticed that the Grandfathers clock wasn't there before.

Tick Tock, Tick Tock, Tick, Tock . . . Tick . . . Tock.

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Hey.

I see you.

. . .

Yes you!

Just what do you think you're doing?

You're either brave or stupid.

Let me guess . . .

The synergistic liability told you about this, right?

I'm gunna be nice and warn you now.

You'd better stop .

Or your really not gunna like what happens next.

I'll admit, I doubt know what the others told you.

But stay away from her.

Or the last thing you'll ever hear will be me ripping tho-

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Chapter Text

Year 4.

Ever since Tessa turned four, her father had begun teaching her all he could about clocks. Everything from theory to practical application, resource management to the basics of forgeing.

It wasn't easy on the child's mind, but Tessa soon found that she loved everything about clockwork.

The same could not be said about her mother's teachings. Manners, table edict, gardening, and dresses. Tessa was smart for her age, even her parents could see that. But the two conflicting educations proved tiring, even for her.

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The four year old child threw herself onto her bed in the most dramatic of fashions. Had her mother seen her, she would have been scolded for being unladylike.

Tessa groaned at the thought.

Her father had her to make her own blueprints, while her mother told her to never read a novel. Clockwork sometimes proved untidy, but her mother would have a fit if her dress came back stained.

Luckily she manged to avoid angering eather of her parents. This week anyway. The chain father installed sat ominously, bolted to the center of her room.

Her wrist felt itchy.

As Tessa felt herself unwind, a new feeling began to creep up. It slowly encircled around her and began to crush her from all sides. Part of it was indeed just plain boredom, but the bulk of this feeling was something else.

It began hollowing her out from the inside, leaving nothing but a shell.

Tessa wasn't ignorant, she knew her father had no true interest in her. He only taught her things she loved out of necessity and nothing else. And her loving what he taught was just an unexpected blessing. Even her mother hated her, it was never outright said, but Tessa could tell.

While maids cleaned her room, it was only when she wasn't around. The longest she ever saw them was when they dressed her each morning. Per her mother's explicit instructions.

She felt so alone.

It all was proving too much. Was she going to be okay? Why was she only used by her parents to annoy the other? Was there even any hope for her?

Did she even have the right to-

Ding Dong! . . . Ding Dong! . . . Ding Dong! . . . Ding Dong!

Her thoughts were interrupted by her grandfather clock.

Ding Dong! . . . Ding Dong! . . . Ding Dong! . . . Ding Dong!

It was eight o'clock, she'd have to bed soon. Tired she layed down as she let her clock lull her to sleep.

"You'd never leave me, right?"

Tessa failed to notice something. For the briefest of moments, the round clock face, became a hexagon. Before going back to its normal appearance in the time it took to blink.

Tick Tock, Tick Tock, Tick Tock, Tick Tock.

She took the steady ticking as her answer as sleep took her, unaware of the whispers from the dark.

Year 5.

As another year passed, Tessa's gifts became more obvious, even to the untrained eye. Though her mother spared no expense reminding her they were wasted on her. As for her father . . .

Depending on which day one asked James Elliott, Tessa's gift for gears was eather a blessing or curse. The Elliott technique was safe in her hands, but he feared there was only so much she could do.

It infuriated him just how much potential and raw talent she had. It was something many smiths would give anything to have, it was far greater than his.

Something Tessa would learn the hard way roughly three years from now.

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Tessa was hard at work in her father's workshop, undergoing a test while he wached.

Before her lay hundreds of small gears to small for human hands, and a magnifying glass. In her hands she had a set of bronze needle like tools that could easily be mistaken as tweezers. Under the magnifying glass, was an incomplete bird au-tom-a-ton.

It's back plating was exposed revealing it's body to be partially empty. Both it's wings were made, but unattached. The eye sockets sat empty, and it's gearbox (core) sat beside it.

As she worked, the words of her father from hours prior echoed in her head.

This wasn't a true test, it was only ment to show where she was at (skill wise). But Tessa wasn't contempt to just leave the bird half finished. She was determined to build it properly. Though that was proving to not be any trouble at all.

As she worked, Tessa seemed to be able to just know where each piece and gear was supposed to go. She was currently working on the right side to prep for it's wing attachment.

This Miter gear connects here, that Internal gear went there, this Helical gear here, and that Spur gear there.

She tried not to think about her father's critical gaze, as she began to attach the wing. Ever so carefully, she connected the wing to the socket, pressing it in place. Tessa kept her hands as steady as possible as the faintest click was herd.

The wing successfully attached.

Next, she begain working on the left side to repeat the process. After twenty minutes it was ready, gently lifting and pressing the wing when . . .

Click.

Next, the eyes. She lifted one of the small yellow orbs, and gently pressed it in. After hearing another click, she did the same with the other 'eye'.

Now came the tricky part, the gearbox (core).

You had to always put the gearbox in last, and it was always the hardest bit in clockwork. At first, Tessa didn't know why people didn't just build around the gearbox. But her father gave a pretty clear explanation/demonstration as to why.

In short, it was much more difficult, nearly impossible to make a compact build around the box. The less compact, the less complex and more fragile of an au-tom-a-ton.

She placed the last few gears to firmly secure the box. Once she was done Tessa let out a sigh of relief. Though she quickly straightened up upon hearing her father clear his throat.

"Alright, let's see how you did."

Tessa resisted the urge to squirm under his gaze as he walked over. Once her father reached the desk, he lifted the middle panel of the birds back and reached into his overcoat.

He pulled out a small winding key.

James stuck the key directly into the gearbox, and turned it a few times. Afterwards, he pulled out the key and closed the back panel. It took a few moments after the fact, but soon a steady ticking was herd. Then the bird began to move, Tessa's eyes lit up as it soon began to chirp.

Though the noise of its own movement, the sound of the gearbox was muffled somewhat. But that didn't matter as it was still ticking away, the movement itself serving as proof.

"Creating a Jay Bird is something that normally takes years to accomplish."

For a just a moment, it sounded as if her father's voice had an almost warmth to it. Before it went back to its usual cold unfeeling tone.

"I'd expect nothing less of an Elliott."

"Thank you father."

Tessa's response was practiced and lifeless. She knew her parents only wanted to hear certain phrases.

"Do not mistake the statement of facts for praise."

"Of course." Tessa slumped. "I understand."

The Jay bird reached the end of the table and soon began to flutter around the room.

"You should be greatful to live in an era and area of higher thinking and dignity. A hundred years ago, your intelligence would have made you a witch."

"Indeed, I am thankful."

"Listen Tessa."

She perked up, her father rarely ever addressed her by her name.

"Unless your mother can give me a proper air, you'll be the one to carry the Elliott name. Do you understand what that means?"

Tessa wasn't sure how to answer.

" . . . No?"

"It means this" - Her father gestured to the bird. - "means nothing. You must never let any success get to your head, never be dragged down with the rif raf, and must always prove to be the best."

Her father turned towards her, his eyes a sharp glare.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes, of course father."

"Good." - James waved her off. - "You're dismissed."

Tessa bowed before leaving the room. Neither her nor her father noticed the mechanical birds eyes. Yellow orbs turned to hexagonal shapes before turning back once more.

Year 6.

Another year passing, another year of growth. Though it wasn't just Tessa that was growing, but the entire world.

The war in the Americas had apparently taken a turn. Every day brought news, all with a one month delay, of how the fires of rebellion raged ever onward. And while the counts and nobles would struggle, they would be fine.

The businesses however were suffering.

While Tessa herself remained largely unaware of the full scope, she did notice the small changes to her life.

The maids that would only ever show up to dress her stopped showing up one by one. There used to be ten, but now only two remained. Furthermore security began to have larger gaps in between shifts, makeing it easier to escape her room.

When she wasn't chained down of course.

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Tessa groaned as she tried to scratch at her wrist.

Every year it was outfitted with a new cuff that just big enough to not clamp down on her skin. But of course, it was always too small to fit her hand though. The main issue (for her) though, was when it happened to be on for too long.

It itched.

After failing to scratch it normally, she gave in to the temptation of getting at it her way.

She took an elongated but small worm gear out of a small pocket in her dress. Then she began to move it back and forth between the cuff and her wrist.

For a few moments, Tessa's discomfort have way to relief as she scratched her wrist. Of course, she knew she had to stop. If she kept going then her skin would be at risk of breaking. And so, after a bit, Tessa stopped and reluctantly put the worm gear back in its small pocket.

Her bookshelf was out of reach, and any dolls she had were also beyond Tessa's grasp. It wasn't long before boredom began to creep up on the girl. The only thing keeping her sane was the clock in her room. She did her best to focus on the sound.

Tick Tock, Tick Tock, Tick Tock, Tick Tock.

As she listened, an idea came to her. Earlier she had herd one of the house maids singing a nursery rhyme. Tessa decided to do the same, useing the the steady ticking as her metronome.

"Hickety, dickety, dock."

"The mouse ran up the clock."

"The clock struck one,"

"Down the mouse ran."

Hickety, dickety, dock."

. . . Ding Dong! . . .

It was now exactly one o'clock, Tessa smiled knowing her timeing couldn't have been more perfect.

Her window was open. Up here, on the third story, bugs weren't much of a concern. Plus it did wonders in regard to relief from the summer heat. It's also what also alowed a certain bronze bird to fly into her room.

"Hello Jay, are you here to keep me company?"

The mini au-tom-a-ton let out a chirp in response.

Of course, Tessa knew it wasn't a response but it was nice to pretend. Clockwork could only imitate what it was built to imitate, nothing more. From birds to horses and cats to dogs, it was all just imitation.

Still, one could name them. And au-tom-a-tons near always (not all the time) obeyed their creator. Humanoid au-tom-a-tons only obeyed commanders though, as they were built exclusively for combat. That, and the comand structure of the military.

When it came to make anything more, no one bothered trying, real people were too complex.

Tessa opened her palm as the Jay fluttered to her. When it reached her, it placed a small twig in her hand. Eather out of boredom or curiosity, she flicked the small object across her room. In a flash of bronze, the small bird darted across the room, fetching the twig and returning it to her.

This should keep the boredom at bay.

For a few minutes Tessa played fetch with her little Jay au-tom-a-ton. All the while she did her best to ignore how her wrist still itched. Though eventually, the au-tom-a-ton flew away, off to do whatever it 'wanted'.

Tessa made her way over to the open window. Looking outside she could see the Jay bird interacting with several others mid flight.

"Must be nice to fly." Tessa sighed wistfully.

That's when she herd it. The ear piercing sound of an airships bell. From her window, Tessa could she the backyard and junk heap behind it. Meaning she had a perfect veiw of the ship.

From the sky it descended, a massive ship made of metal and wood, stopping above the scrapyard. It was easily a hundred and fifty feet (45.72 meters) long and sixty feet (18.288 meters) tall. While the bulk of its hight came from its multi segment balloon, it was still a ship of impressive size.

From this distance, Tessa could see it was a merchant ship. The Elliott crest was on the balloons side, and was presumably on the other. Eventually the bottom of the ship opened up and hundreds of small specks fell into the piles of scrap.

Tessa didn't know why, but she felt the strong urge to venture into scrap. Her mother told her to never go, that was full of toxic miasma. But Tessa never saw the big deal, se never got sick no matter how bad something smelled.

It should be fine, so long as I don't get caught.

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Most people would have felt it, t he sensation of being watched.

But Tessa had been wached for so long.

She never noticed, and would've claimed she wasn't.

But she was being wached.

And as the urge to go into the swampy scrapyard filled her heart, it smiled.

Or at least . . . it did what could be considered the equivalent of smiling.

Year 7.

The war for the Americas was lost.

The year - 1781.

Officially, the war was not yet over. But everyone knew better, the writing was on the wall and it was only a matter of time.

For the crown, this was only a minor setback. Soon, someplace else would be found to send criminals to. And the vastness of the British Empire far surpassed thirteen meager colonies.

But for the merchants, and all those who believed in the 'natural order', this was devastating news.

Naval attacks, both by sea and air, where now more common than ever. Trade was becoming more disrupted with each passing month. And the sudden increase of national debt wasn't aiding in anything.

But none of this mattered.

Not to Tessa, though her father spared no effort in complaining. And it wasn't like she wasn't completely unaffected.

Two maids had become one.

Yet Tessa cared little for maids or finance. What she was interested in, was what could be waiting for her in the scrapyard.

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Tessa held a handkerchief close to her mouth and nose as she made her way deeper into the junk piles.

The handkerchief was doused in a heavy perfume her mother had given her. It wasn't much, but it was more than enough to keep out the foul air. (Though in her opinion the air wasn't even all that bad.)

The lack of proper staffing made it easier than ever to sneak out of the Elliott manor. Though it also ment the attic and the many basements we're accumulating more dust.

Tessa carefully moved though the mounds of scraped au-tom-a-ton shells, and crooked gears. She was sure as to not rely on her left arm. Tessa's left wrist was all red and agitated from the constant 'punishment'.

There wasn't any clear goal in mind.

The only reason she even came was because it felt like something could found. What that was? Tessa couldn't say, so for now she was just browsing.

But in all honesty she doubted anything of actual value was in any of these piles of scrap. Several crews had already looked though everything before it was sent here. The odds of finding anything of note were incredibly slim.

But there was a higher chance than zero.

Thats what mattered.

Overhead, the clouds began to darken, as it would be storming soon. Tessa sighed as she began to give up. Whatever was here could wait till tomorrow.

Ever so carefully, she made her way up the tallest pile in the dump. With her greater hight, she could see that she was in the dead center of scrap. She began to bend over to climb back down, when she slipped.

Before she knew what was happening Tessa fell backwards, away from the manor. Sliding down, she tried to catch herself.

And she succeeded . . . with her left hand. The sudden pain caused her to let go, continuing to fall/slide.

Once she reached the bottom Tessa slowly rose on unsteady legs. But the ground beneath her was muddy from the storm a few days prior. Meaning that because she was still a bit shaky, she fell again.

Luckily, Tessa mearly slid a few feet before stopping. Her dress was torn, covered in filth, and the handkerchief was lost. But after looking up, none of that mattered.

Because she found something amazing. It wasn't what she was looking for, (Tessa still didn't know what that was), but was a close second.

Before her, in a small heap, 'sat' a ruined (but mostly intact) humanoid au-tom-a-ton.

Its bottom half was gone, as the 'stomach' down looked like it had been torn off. It's right arm was missing, and it's head was just barely still attached. Looking closer, Tessa could see J-010 etched into its 'collar bone' plating. One look was enough to see that it was far more intact and no doubt had most of its internals still. How had the crews missed this?

Somthing felt familiar with this au-tom-a-ton.

Tessa decided right then and there, this was coming home with her.

Regardless of what her parents had to say about it.

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The thing was happy.

While it would've preferred to found sooner rather than later, it wasn't too bothered.

So what if the girl found a few toys first? Its been here for thousands of years, long before man ever set foot upun these lands. It could wait a few more.

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I can see you.

. . .

Yeah, It was pretty obvious . . . your not that sneaky.

You can correct me if I'm wrong.

But weren't you already warned?

Last I checked, J left little to interpretation.

But just in case, let me give you a little reminder.

S T A Y   A W A Y   F R O M   H E R.

I'll even be nice, and not tell J you were here.

Don't worry, I'm not a narc.

Secrets safe with me. As long as you leave.

Of course, if you don't leave . . .

Heh

I'll make your life hell as I rip you to shreds and feed yo-

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Chapter Text

As you could probably (hopefully) tell by the name and description, this is an apology/update.

I genuinely intended the next update to be two weeks after the last one. But life just seems to have a way of pushing you over, than kicking you while you're down. This account is canonically be run by an eldritch creature, but the one behind that creature is all too human.

I don't want to just give excuses, but I won't go into too much detail, so here's some clifnotes.

• Stress
• Burnout
• Mental fatigue
• Physical fatigue
• Knee pain
• Memory gaps
• Life (just in general)

That said, it's not like I've haven't been writing anything. Years 8 & 9 have been completed, and years 10/11 have been mapped out.

This fic isn't on hiatus.

It's just been taking me awhile to write.

So here's a few little nuggets (5) of the next chapter. Though just for fun, one of which, is fake.

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1.

The girl giggled as an unsettling look dawned her face.

"Looks like you're my little Jay bird now."

Tessa picked up an assembly post and crows foot.

"Don't worry, I fix you as soon as I can."

The silence was deafening and she yearned to the ticking of clocks soon.

2.

"Please be careful boss!" J's worry was evident in her tone. If she had any, her blood pressure would be vary high in that moment. Instead she had to deal with her gears (somehow) tensing up.

The 'boss' causing J so much stress, was practically dancing on a pile of jagged shards of copper. All without a single care.

"Comon' Jay bird, it's not that bad." Tessa didn't really care about the 'risk' as she was to elated to care. Just the prospect of her parents being gone for two weeks sent her on a joyous high.

3.

It knew that the one working on them was a girl, but couldn't make out most details. The girl was a human, but to it , she appeared as a shadow in the form of a girl.

One detail was clear to it at least. For the first and last time, the girls eyes were visible. It no . . . she was enamored.

Yellow orbs stared into green eyes , though the human girl remained unaware.

4.

Now here she was, twenty minutes out in search of something. While still ignorant to what it was, Tessa kept looking all the same.

That's when she heard a strange sound.

Ba-bump.

Tessa looked around confused, unsure if she heard anything.

Ba-bump.

There it was again. It almost sounded like a . . .

Ba-bump.

A heartbeat.

5.

"I can't help but wonder"

Lord Frumptlebucket perked up. James tone was almost somber, a small bit of humanity peaking though his well built walls.

"Wonder what old friend?"

"All I hear is talk of automation and technology powerd by steam. It's still in it's infancy, but perhaps in few more decades . . ."

"And why would that worry the great James Elliott?"

"Do you think we're nearing the death of the artisan?"

⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙

⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙

So those are snippets of the next chapter, though one of them is fake.

If you're not a coward, let me know which one you think it is. Though after the next chapter I will be deleting this.

Sorry for not uploading in awhile, life's just been . . . alot.

Chapter Text

Year 8.

For the rest of the year and well into the next, Tessa made constant excursions to the scrapyard. The bulk of her 'trips' had been to find extra additional parts for J-010.

"You brought it here, fix it yourself." The words of her father echoed in her mind with each trip.

At first, both her mother and father were appalled. But as time went on they begrudgingly came except her 'trips'. Though that didn't mean the act would go unpunished. Tessa quickly learned just how bad the 'disciplining' could get, along with it's usual pattern.

If Tessa came back empty handed, her father would use his cain to strike her rear. While being incredibly painful it was also quite rare. The crews in charge of the ships missed valuable things quite often.

Her mother's punishments however, where a tad tricker to minimize. Tessa's mother hated when the girl would return with a ruined dress. Often, her 'proper lady' lessons would increase in intensity. And the time she spent chaind to her room would also increase.

Or she would have something taken from her.

Dispite everything, Tessa never stopped. Something was always beckoning her to the piles of junk and scrap. Stopping never once crossed her mind.

No matter what was lost to her.

⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙

Tessa quickly heading from her room to the closest cellar door, the key to which was secure in palm.

There were several basements within the Elliott manor. As such, James Elliott paid little mind to just letting his daughter have the key to one. Tessa knew it was only because her parents kept useing her to annoy the other. When her father wasn't actively teaching her, he was complaining about being Interupted by her presence.

But that was okay, because now she had her own personal workshop. It had barely been six months and she had already made it her own. Unlocking the door, the eight year old girl quickly headed down.

In her haste, she almost forgot to close the door behind her . . . almost.

The underground room was around 150 square feet (13.93 meters) big. It was roughly 15 feet long and 10 feet wide (4.572 × 3.048 meters). All while being seven feet (2.1336 meters) tall.

Or deep, depending on one's perspective.

Along two of the walls was a L-shaped desk covered in all sorts clutter. And while the long side went from one wall to the other, the short side only went halfway. This left the corner furthest from the entrance free for Tessa's little project.

Held up by chains in the corner was a half destroyed humanoid au-tom-a-ton. She had taken to calling it 'J', as J-010 was just a little much.

Originally it was made to be small and unassuming, all while being incredibly lethal. Unfortunately Tessa's father couldn't get all of its military functions to work without an increase in size. As such, it was deemed a failure and shipped off as a commanders assistant. While it wasn't ment to see combat, it clearly had, given the state it was in when found.

Though it didn't look all that good now to be honest.

It was worked on diligently almost everyday. But due to the rough shape it was in, it still needed plenty of work. Progress was visible, but incredibly slow.

Both arms had been fully restored, jointed limbs filled with nearly a thousand gears each. The left arm actually had a pistol embedded in its arm. It had four barrels on a rotating mechanism attached to a swivel that could swap with the hand. The right had a long dagger as long as Tessa's forearm sheathed in bronze.

It was impossible to tell from the outside . . . her father's work.

As for the bronze/steel plating, it had also ben fixed. The 'abdomen' was also fully repaired, but the 'waist' needed to be built from scratch. The legs were still nonexistent, though various blueprints for such lined the basement walls.

But the biggest problem, was the lack of a core.

Without the perpetual motion that a core provided, getting this thing to move would be next to impossible. But building one far exceeded Tessa's ability. And her father wouldn't be teaching her for at least another two years.

But, that wasn't the end of the world, it would still take at least another year to finish repairs anyway.

Tessa looked over to the back corner of the desk. In that spot, sat the shell of a little Jay bird au-tom-a-ton, resting in pieces. Her mother had it destroyed after one to many dresses were 'ruined'. But unlike 'J' this one couldn't be repaired. Too many joints busted, too many gears bent. It's core had also been broken never to tick again.

But that was okay.

The usable gears had been pulled out an used to fix 'J'. Huh, Tessa never really thought about it but . . .

Jay bird. She looked at the hollow shell. J. Tessa looked back at the humanoid au-tom-a-ton. Jaybird, J, Jaybird, J.

The girl laughed, a mainaical giggle that would've sent chills down anyone's spine. All while an unsettling look dawned her face.

"Looks like you're my little Jaybird now~."

Tessa picked up an assembly post and crows foot.

"Don't worry, I fix you as soon as I can."

The silence was deafening and she yearned to the ticking of clocks soon.

⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙

It wasn't sure when it awoke, only that it did.

Touch, Sight, Smells, Sound, and Taste. Somehow it possessed those five senses without being activated. Despite happening, it knew this to be impossible.

But how did it know?

It looked without seeing, touched without feeling. It had no mouth, yet it could taste.

Useing it's impossible sight, the au-tom-a-ton looked around the room. It could see that they were being worked on, but couldn't make out the proper details.

It knew that the one working on them was a girl, but couldn't make out most details. The girl was a human, but to it , she appeared as a shadow in the form of a girl.

One detail was clear to it at least. For the first and last time, the girls eyes were visible. It no . . . she was enamored.

Yellow orbs stared into green eyes , though the human girl remained unaware.

Year 9.

What began as writing on the wall, was now official.

The war was truely lost.

Over in the new world, a great experiment was takeing place. The likes of which had never happened in all of human history. A country not ruled by God or a king, but by the law of the land, and the wishes of its people.

Tessa had little reason to care herself, while her father on the other hand . . . was less than pleased. This continued attack against the natural order had taken it's tool.

But, it wasn't like it was the end of all profits.

Ship makeing would always be profitable, and au-tom-a-tons even more so. Everyone needed transportation, both in ships and horses. The Elliott's could provide, though now they had less buyers due to the prices . . .

But to Tessa, none of this mattered, and it wouldn't for several more years. There was still only one maid, though now security was as lax as ever. It wasn't like anyone wanted to rob them.

Rumors of miasma and (poor) people going missing near the scrapyard kept any would be thief away.

Though the Elliott's remained ignorant of these rumors.

⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙

Tessa steped back in satisfaction as she gazed upon her work, J (J-010) was complete. With it's legs finished it was no longer hanging from chains, but rather sitting in the chair. 

It was slightly taller than her, but that was sure to change in time. It's head was smooth, it had two 'eyes', and the faint impression of a nose. The bottom half of the head had a complex array of small 'plates' to allow lip movement and expression.

Being a former military asset, it's torso had several layers of protective plating. All of witch had been fully restored, giving it's torso a flattened cylinder shape. But the plating was slightly thicker in the chest, by around half an inch (1.27 centimeters).

The steel plate responsible was needed to protect the nonexistent core.

Tessa sighed, depressed at the thought. Throughout the past year her trips the scrapyard increased in frequency. But with each trip she found less and less. And yet still something called to her, beckoning the girl closer, pushing her further.

After putting everything away, the girl begain to head up. She gave the au-tom-a-ton one last look before heading up the ladder.

"Just wait a little longer, my little Jaybird."

Tessa smiled as she left the cellar. She'd soon be able to head into the piles of junk and scrap.

⧼⚙⧽ ⧼⚙⧽ ⧼⚙⧽ ⧼⚙⧽ ⧼⚙⧽ ⧼⚙⧽ ⧼⚙⧽ ⧼⚙⧽

She Had No Idea What Was Waiting For Her

⧼⚙⧽ ⧼⚙⧽ ⧼⚙⧽ ⧼⚙⧽ ⧼⚙⧽ ⧼⚙⧽ ⧼⚙⧽ ⧼⚙⧽

Sneaking out had been laughably easy.

The guards were not only stretched pitifully thin, but they were also distracted. Tessa's knack for good timeing had struck again as one of the few maids had some kind of incident. She didn't really care to find out more, least she'd miss the perfect opertunity.

Now here she was, twenty minutes out in search of something. While still ignorant to what it was, Tessa kept looking all the same.

That's when she heard a strange sound.

Ba-bump.

Tessa looked around confused, unsure if she heard anything.

Ba-bump.

There it was again. It almost sounded like a . . .

Ba-bump.

A heartbeat. Soon Tessa began to hastily move though piles of hollowd shells. The closer she got, the louder and faster the noise became.

Ba-bump! Ba-bump!

Now Tessa was practically running, bits of jagged metal left small tears in her dress. Not that she even noticed, not even when they began to leave small cuts.

Ba-bump! Ba-bump! Ba-bump!

Soon her lower legs were scratched bloody, leaving specks of blood on her torn dress. Tessa never noticed, though if she did she wouldn't have cared. She was close now, so vary close.

Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bu-

The noise stopped completely as Tessa stumbled upon a small 'clearing', no bigger than a maids bed. In the dead center lay somthing truely wonderful.

Despite being rich Tessa never asked for much. She was well aware that if she pestered her parents enough they'd get her near anything to silence her. But she never bothered, the things she wanted were things they'd never give her. Upon seeing the object, Tessa knew that she would do anything to have it.

It went by many names. The Gearbox, the Engine, the Mechanism, and the original Da Vinci Unit. But this was something else, no other name could compare and olny a single word appeared in her mind. Core.

It was slightly larger than Tessa's hand, cylindrical and amazingly crafted. But what really stood out, was red flesh like mass that covered it. The top almost seemed to bubble up and flow to bottom. And the bottom looked like it had three spindly limbs.

The girl was transfixed gazing at the small object. Then she began to move closer, practically hypnotized.

When she was close enough, Tessa kneeled down and gently lifted the core. She didn't know why, but she began to tenderly hold it close to her chest. Holding it so near, the faintest ticking noise could be heard. But there was also something else, slow, gentle, and steady, but definitely there.

A heartbeat.

Tessa was many things. But first and foremost she herself as a clock-smith, more so than an Elliott.

And clock-smiths were themselves a great many things. To some they were inventors, to others artisans. (The Elliott style was more about the art side.) But both aspects had a key shared trait.

Curiosity.

And right now Tessa's own curiosity was running rampant. She wanted nothing more than break it apart to see how it worked. But as soon as the thought came to mind, she became disgusted with herself. It was unclear why, but Tessa somehow the thing she held so tenderly was infact alive.

"D̴o̵ ̵y̷o̵u̴ ̴l̵i̶k̸e̷ ̶i̴t̵?̵"

Tessa immediately turnd around, only see nothing.

"O̵v̷e̴r̴ ̶h̶e̶r̴e̸.̶"

As Tessa turned around a second time, the world itself seemed to lose it's color. The blue sky turnd into a milky gray, and the buitiful bronze became the color of charcoal. But a little further from the 'clearing' center, was a small floating orbital gear.

Simple in shape and design, with one large solar gear, three smaller planetary gears, and one outer ring. And it was a buitiful glowing yellow color.

Tessa knew this was what spoke.

"What are you?"

The question was not asked in fear, but a genuine passionate curiosity.

"T̵h̶a̶t̸ ̷i̸s̸ ̷c̷e̷r̷t̴a̶i̷n̸l̴y̷ ̵a̷n̴ ̴.̴ ̵.̵ ̷.̶ ̴I̷n̴t̴e̶r̴e̸s̶t̵i̴n̸g̵ ̶q̵u̴e̶s̴t̴i̶o̴n̴.̵"

"Does it have an answer?"

The strange floating gear seemed to release a grinding noise that seemd to equate to laughter.

"T̵o̴ ̸s̸o̵m̵e̸,̴ ̵i̴m̵ ̴a̷n̴ ̸a̸n̸g̵e̴l̴,̶ ̷t̷o̵ ̴o̴t̵h̴e̶r̵s̵,̵ ̶a̷ ̸d̷e̴v̸i̶l̶.̶"

Tessa couldn't hide the awe in her voice.

"Which is it?"

"N̵e̵a̶t̸h̵e̸r̵,̸ ̷I̴'̷m̴ ̷w̸h̶a̸t̷ ̷m̴o̶s̵t̷ ̴w̵o̶u̵l̵d̴ ̷c̶o̵n̷s̷i̵d̸e̵r̶ ̴t̶o̵ ̸b̸e̸ ̵a̸ ̶k̸i̸n̷d̷ ̶o̶f̷ ̸d̸e̵a̵l̵ ̶m̵a̶k̷e̷r̶.̶"

"What kind of deals?"

"T̶h̷e̶ ̵k̷i̷n̷d̴ ̵t̵h̷a̵t̶ ̴g̷i̷v̸e̶ ̸y̸o̶u̶ ̶t̸h̸e̴ ̷t̵h̷i̶n̵g̸ ̵y̷o̷u̴ ̵w̶a̵n̶t̷ ̵m̷o̷s̴t̸.̴"

Unsure as to why, Tessa reached out to the small glyph.

Then the world went black.

⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙

That would be the last thing Tessa remembered before waking. She was still in the scrapyard, but the color had returned to the world. The sky however, remaind an ash gray, and was quickly getting darker. When she got up from the position she awoke in, she immediately noticed that she was in a different place.

Upon further inspection Tessa realized she hadn't woken up just anywhere. This was the spot where she first found her Jaybird.

In the spot where she found what was hers, layed two more. In the exact same spot, only the two were holding hands.

One was almost fully intact, with the top half of it's head seemingly crushed in. the other had a massive hole dead center in the chest area. Tessa guessed that the grievous damage was most likely caused by cannon fire. She wasn't entirely sure what else could've done it.

Still, they were both in excellent condition. It should take more than a year or two to fix them, then modify them to be the same model as J. Further inquiry was halted after seeing what lay next to her.

Four of those precious little cores sat by her feet. But there was something else, a fith core, one without the flesh like goo. She knew what it was for.

It was to give her father to avoid suspicion. Tessa grinned as she came up with away to take everything.

Let it never be said that Tessa James Elliott wasn't just a little greedy.

Year 10.

Tessa was thoroughly grounded after the stunt she pulled the previous year. but she manged to avoid the cain, after giving her father the 'false' core. Her mother was less impressed, as Tessa was chaind down for two weeks straight.

Even worse (for Tessa) she wasn't really allowed to so much as even glance at gear for two months. She believed her father must've stepped in or it likely would have been two years.

Afterwards, Tessa realized she had no knowledge of the deal she made, only that she made one. No one knew just how far reaching the consequences would be.

But that didn't matter, Tessa had au-tom-a-tons to fix.

⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙

Tessa was exhausted.

Frustrated.

Tired.

Bit she was excited more than anything.

After years of bronze, blood, sweat, and tears, she was finally done. All her little Jay bird needed, was her core.

The au-tom-a-ton sat in a chair facing her. Originally, she had planned to activate all three of them at once. Unfortunately, ife had other plans.

Moding the two she had come to know as V-11 and N-12 had proven to be a time consuming struggle. They would be ready, but Tessa would need at least another year. And Tessa had grown impatient, she had her Jaybird already fixed. Patience may be a virtue, but it was one the young artisan knew vary little.

Some may have found that laughable, as clockwork was a vary slow methodical art form. But had nothing to do with patience (if you asked Tessa.)

Tessa looked down at the pulsating fleshy core sitting on the table. Anytime someone else approached, the fleshy goo would slowly retreat into the outer shell. Once the third party left, it would slowly ooze back out.

(The fleshy substance felt pleasant to hold.)

However, it wasn't as if she had all the time in the world. So Tessa got to work.

First she reattached the chains and lifted her J.

Then she moved the chair out of the way and rotated the au-tom-a-ton. Tessa ever so gently opened J's back panel. It was heavy and well armored, but it opened with ease. The near countless gears reviled brought true joy to the young girls heart. Tessa began the nessasary prep work for installing the core.

This was it.

After this was done she would finally have a friend.

After locking the core in place, the flesh began to grow. Hundreds if not thousands of impossibly small tendrils began to wrap around every hook and gear. Somehow Tessa knew that this wouldn't be a cause of issues.

And so, the girl inserted her specal winding key and began to turn. After a few seconds, nothing happened.

Tessa was confused. Did she not turn the key properly? Was the core not connected? Was evr-

Tick.

She paused her mental questioning, wondering if she actually heard what she thought she heard. And right as she was wondering if there even was any noise . . .

Tick.

Tessa let out an audible sigh of relief. It seemed to her that everything was working as intended.

Tick.

The small girl smiled. The first one she had in weeks.

Tick.

Soon the ticking became a steady rhythm, filling Tessa with a sense of relief and ease. The weight on her shoulders and the hollow feeling became just a little more bearable. Soon she would have her first real friend, and it wouldn't be long until she had two more.

And she would never let go.

She promised herself that much.

Year 11.

A collection of au-tom-a-tons that could do anything a human can. Not even the great Leonardo da Vinci dreamed of such a thing.

It was considered as laughable as putting a man on the moon. Sure, military au-tom-a-tons existed. But those could only ever be used on the battlefield. The closest one ever got to normalcy was the ability to pour tea for their commanders.

But what James Elliott was able to accomplish (take credit for) was legendary. 'His' latest creations could do a seemingly infinite number to tasks. Some reports even spoke of them learning. James Elliott had forever cemented his name in history.

Centuries from now his name would be spoken of alongside the likes of Richard of Wallingford and Leonardo da Vinci.

A̷s̶s̴u̸m̵i̸n̷g̶ ̶a̴n̸y̷ ̸h̴u̶m̸a̴n̵s̷ ̵l̴i̷v̵e̸d̴ ̷l̶o̷n̶g̸ ̶e̵n̷o̸u̵g̵h̸ ̵t̴o̷ ̵s̴p̷e̶a̶k̸ ̷o̷f̸ ̵t̸h̵e̵m̴.̵

⧼⚙⧽ ⧼⚙⧽ ⧼⚙⧽ ⧼⚙⧽ ⧼⚙⧽ ⧼⚙⧽ ⧼⚙⧽ ⧼⚙⧽

Tessa was, by all accounts, far to curious for her own good. Every day she seemed to to find trouble in poking her nose where it didn't belong. However, this day would be different because she wouldn't get caught. Not that she knew that when she begain spying on her father.

It all started when her father informed her that she'd be confined to her room untill further notice.

He was expecting some 'vary important guests' and was not to be disturbed. It wad natural for the young clock-smith apprentice to be curious, which led to the current situation.

The Elliott manor was massive. So much so that a grown man could easily fit between the walls in some places. And it just so happened that her father's study was one such place. Tessa could see though a small crack most of her father's study, and the three men in the room.

• The first was her father, James Elliott.

As proud and as dignified as ever.

• Second, a man named Lord Frumptlebucket.

A tall man with a top hat, monocle, and a left arm of gears and bronze. The bulk of which was obscured by his overcoat.

• But the third man was unknown to her.

He scrawny and looked like a well dressed twig. Something about him seemed untrustworthy, and Tessa figured she would learn his name soon.

"Tessa, this is a terrible idea!" 

A hushed but urgent voice sounded beside her. Tessa turned to look at J, who insisted on coming with.

It had been a little less than a year since Tessa managed to activate her Jaybird. The two had been inseparable since, as the human girl was never seen without her personal au-tom-a-ton. In that time, Tessa managed to 'acquire' a wig for the machine. The hair was done up in pigtails, one of the latest fashion trends.

"It'll be fine Jaybird. Now shh, there starting."

"James, it's been far too long." The twig started. Tessa didn't know a voice could sound so greasy.

"Indeed Jenson, the years have certainly flown by."

So the twig was Jenson . . . yeah no, Twig was better.

After a few minutes of exchanging pointless pleasantries, they finally started. It was Lord Frumptlebucket who began.

"Gentlemen, I believe it's time someone knock the Duch East India company off it's perch."

Both men were silent. The quiet became so quickly that Tessa was worried that J's ticking would give them away. (A pointless anxiety in a mansion of clocks.)

"Well that's . . . certainly something." Twig muttered.

"Indeed." Tessa's father responded.

The lord continued, to explain his reasoning.

"It's not known by the masses it's an open secret among the nobility." He paused to let his words simmer. "That The Dutch East India Company has our king wrapped around their finger."

"Yes, they've been rather . . . difficult lately." Twig said.

"I've had problems with them too." James replied. "A few months ago, French sky privateers raided an entire sea fleet."

"French pirates?" Twig questioned.

"No." James replied dryly. "They had the duch companies insignia."

"Exactly!" Lord Frumptlebucket exclaimed. That blasted company has a monopoly on the entirety of Asia! And now there trying to to do the same with the new world!?"

The noble lord paused before continuing.

"Even worse, they have a military power that rivals the crown, and still the king does nothing!"

"So? What do you suggest we do?" The twig asked.

"This."

The lord reached into his coat with his metal arm, and pulled out a small thin wooden box. After placing it on a small table, he opened the box ant lifted one of the small objects inside. It was a fountain pen of impressive quality. It's handle was made of wood with intricate brass detailing. The tip was well made, being perfectly symmetrical. Finally in polished bronze lettering, the words JC-JENSON where engraved on the side.

Lord Frumptlebucket reached into the box and pulled out two more, placing them on the table. They all looked exactly the same. The twig looked up to the nobleman in disbelief.

"How did you . . . ?"

"Factories." The noble stated. "It's not an entirely new practice, but it's been making waves as of late."

"I can see why." James inspected two of the pens closely. "These aren't just similar, they're exactly the same. Not even I could do that, no artisan could."

That much was true, for every single au-tom-a-ton in the mansion was slightly different from the last.

"And what's this lettering mean?" Asked the twig.

"That would be the alliance I wish to propose. The Jenson's land, the financial backing of the Frumptlebucket's, and the clockwork of the Elliott's."

"I see . . ." The twig started. "So then, why J-C?"

"If we want this to work, I'll have to avoid suspicion. Besides I always preferred my middle name anyway."

The twig chuckled. "Well then I'm all for it."

The noble turned to James.

"Well old friend, what will it be?"

Tessa knew what her father's answer would be long before he said anything. Over the years he'd made two things painfully clear. And that was A) Clockwork was scared to her family. And B) To a 'true' Elliott, power and prestige were to always be saught after.

"If we do this, we'll need far more than some patented fountain pens. Those factories, can they replicate au-tom-a-tons?"

"Indeed. In fact a few factory made au-tom-a-tons were sent to Quebec."

"Who produced them?"

"The Duch East India company."

James Elliott went silent for a few moments. Then he spoke with a slight anger. The mere idea of someone else producing made him feel a tad insulted.

"Give me a year. Afterwards you'll have more than few prototypes for mass production. You'll find them far superior to anything they could ever make."

It was then that Tessa had enough of this 'adult meeting' and began to turn herself to leave. The in-between of the walls was far from comfortable. But then she saw J, looking on seemingly mesmerized.

"Jay bird." Tessa softly murmured. She giggled ever so softly as she startled the au-tom-a-ton.

"R-right, sorry Tessa."

"It's alright silly. Now, let us be on our way, I've had enough of these boring talks."

"How are they boring?"

Tessa raised an eyebrow, she didn't expect her Jay Bird to talk back like that. But she supposed it was a harmless enough question.

"Because I already know how the rest of this meeting will go, and that's enough."

Of course, had Tessa stayed she would have heard her father open up about his anxieties. But the Elliott's heir wouldn't have cared. Deep in her chest she felt the slightest flicker of irritation, and she wanted to be near her clock.

⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙

As the lord and the Elliott wached from the window as Jenson borded a carriage drawn by two horse au-tom-a-ton. As his stagecoach led them away, James spoke.

"I can't help but wonder"

Lord Frumptlebucket perked up. James tone was almost somber, a small bit of humanity peaking though his well built walls.

"Wonder what old friend?"

"Your not the first to talk about factories. All I hear is talk of automation and technology powerd by steam. It's still in it's infancy, but perhaps in few decades . . ."

"And why would that worry the great James Elliott?"

"Do you think we're nearing the death of the artisan?"

"I'm not sure. But no matter what, the world will always need tinkering and everyone knows the Elliott's are the best there is."

James raised a glass.

"Then let us make sure it stays that way."

⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙

Tick, Tock. Tick, Tock. Tick, Tock.

Tessa felt more relaxed and calm after focusing on the clock in her room. The spark of irritation had turned into a raging inferno by the time she made it to her room.

After talking back, her Jaybird requested to spend multiple hours a day away from her.

(To be spasific, the library.)

It was madness, Jaybird always had trouble telling time without an external clock. So there was always a chance of her spending too much time away from Tessa.

(The time J requested was when Tessa was learning edict and thus separated from her anyway. But that's not the the point!)

Luckily, the repetition of her clock alowed her to prosess. Jay bird was her own being, so of corse Tessa agreed, but it still hurt. She begain to think out loud for no other reason than to organize her thoughts better.

"Jaybird remembers her time in the new world, though not how she was dissasmbled. So that would make her three years younger that me. It's normal for younger beings to mess up sometimes."

Her back was more than enough proof of that.

"I won't hold it against her this time. Besides, I'm sure she's stressed about the others. There almost ready, and I'm sure managing them will be quite the burden."

Her Jaybird was in the library, familiarizing herself with it's confusing layout. She went at Tessa's suggestion but that had proven regrettable. Right now the young girl wanted to hold what hers close. To listen to the synchronized ticks of both her Jaybird and the grandfather clock.

⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙

"By the way, I've been meaning to ask."

"Yes?"

"Why J'C'-JENSON?"

"Well Christopher is my third middle name."

"To the name that sits in the dead middle of your full one?"

"Precisely."

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Oh, hey buddy I didn't see you there.

. . .

Maybe you should go, please?

I don't want anyone getting hurt if I can help it.

J's been worse than usual and V's not that much better.

I can tell there holding back for her sake.

I know I have no right to ask but please stop.

Peopleare going to get hurt if you don't.

I know some them deserve it, but most are innocent.

I thought I'd try the nice approach.

The others prefer threats of violence.

But I wanted to try.

Please just stay away from her, I mean it.

if you don't, innocent blood will be on your hands I mea-

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