Neil's breath produced puffs of steam not unlike the Imperial Steamtanks just outside the academy's walls. The last dying struggles of winter were upon them, sending one more cold-front before the lushness of spring. To most, it was time to look forward to future farm work and fertility celebrations. For Neil it meant maintenance, repair, and a shit ton of exams. Luckily, most exams were actual working assessments of his inventions, but he was getting a little impatient for gunnery target practice. Just another month and he could blow up a few stone walls and at the end of the next year, get his degree finally. As of right now, he was attempting to perfect his latest invention; a timed cannon. A cannon that ignited and fired its payload every day at a certain point. He was still working out the kinks, and clocks were a bitch to rig up, but he felt like he was well on his way to making a completely autonomous city 'bell' for noonday. 

The room he was in was made of thin wood, just outside the stone workshop his Master worked within. Master Gunter could be said to have Neil both at arm's length and kept him on a short leash. After the last detonation, he didn't want Neil working on anything within enclosed stone walls. Couldn't really blame the old man. Word had it Countess Emmanuel was going to visit within a few days to kick off Black Powder Week. Neil, and most of the other problem engineers were going to assigned far away during that meeting, which was a shame. Neil had wanted to flirt with her ever since he saw her in that parade on Magnus the Pious's nameday two years ago. 

The sound of clinking brass filled his ears as he screwed in another bit on the cast iron, the smell of sulphur and gunpowder from the casks set a few yards away from him filling his nostrils. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, bumping into the goggles set on his forehead. He would finish in time, he just had to stay up tonight and keep working on it. In two days he planned on moonlighting a bit more in the Old Quarter. His bills were barely paid from the scholarship he had received in Marienburg, and he could barely afford to eat. 

His work and 'recreational' activities gave him a lean, fit body. Even with the black soot on his face, he was boyishly charming, though handsome was going too far. Neil had a youthful gift, always looking a few years younger than he actually was. Technically he could have lied about his age, but in this instance it did well to tell the truth on being in his mid-twenties. Applicants over twenty one were able to get a hold of more volatile chemicals without certain boring tutorials the youngest students had to deal with. If one could prove they knew the literature that was. Neil might not be the most well read, but when he wanted something he practiced enough to be good at it.    

Sweat beaded on his nose, and outside the gas from the new forges were creeping in through the cracks of the timber workroom. He hacked up a cough. He leaned back and patted his chest with a fist, wheezing. "Think I've been in here a bit too long," He remarked. He needed a new wrench anyway to finish up the attachment, and cleared his throat as he stood up. He set his stuff down and opened the door into the main gunnery shop where his master resided. Neil had a small hall to walk down, and he heard his master's voice. He wondered who he was speaking to...?