conversations: human
conversations:  You find your self sitting at your diner table with your wife, young daughter and son, along with your new strange and eccentric neighbor by the name of Taints.  The man apparently believes in magic and is on a mission to acquire the sun. full of rubbish this one. your sitting there worried about the events of earlier in the day you've been in town for a few days getting things in order for your family with the rest of the money you had from your time mining that strange coal that seems to have permanently stained your hands to the far west for them government types. The day your family show up there was a commotion out side and you had seen the apparently local gang dragging some poor guy around behind a horse. against your better judgment you stepped in and scared off the few gang members then untied the man. cant help but think if that will come back to bite you later. You come back to the present as you hear a wonderful sound, witch turns out to be your daughter expertly playing a flute made of gold colored wood. Your neighbor smiles and says  ah your quite good, keep it. 
conversations: Daygone:
conversations: human
conversations:  The Gunsmith gives his head a slight shake as he pulls away from the worries he has probably just caused himself and his family.  With luck perhaps the sheriff can nip this in the bud before it becomes too much of a problem...  Looking to his daughter Penelope, or Penny for short, his brow arches in distrustful curiosity before glances from the girl and the flute to Taints and then his wife, Molly.
  
  Clearing his throat, the Gunsmith wipes his mouth with the cloth napkin while rising to a stand. "All right, Penny. Play time is over. Go on an' wash up now. You too, Noah. Giddy up." While speaking, he approached the children and deftly plucked the flute from Penny's hands and placed it upon the mantle out of reach of the kids, subconsciously wiping hishand off on his jeans.
conversations: PainNoodle:
conversations: human
conversations:  Penny and Noah race off to get cleaned up this is accompanied by the sounds of a minor sibling squabble. Taints looks up to you and asks pulling a box from a bag he brought,  take a gander at this found it in my new residence, have ya ever seen any markings of the like? 
  
  if you were to inspect the box its a good 3 ft long, 1 1/2 ft wide and about 8 in deep with a combination lock built in with strange markings in place of the numbers... or letters there are five spaces for the code.
  
  Molly walks about the table cleaning up after diner.
conversations: Daygone:
conversations: human
conversations:  The Gunsmith quirks a surprised brow at the size of the box, having been curious as to what his neighbor had hauled into his home in such a large bag.  Reaching out to take the container from Taints, the first thing he looks or feels for is to check the weight of the item. Otherwise, after inspecting the dials and hmmm-ing to himself in thought gives a shrug of hisshoulder, handing it back.
  
  "Can't say I have. I've seen locks similar but these don't look like no letters or numbers I've ever been taught. 'Nother language, I reckon. Might be one o'them oriental fellas they got working the rails out west might know. They don't write like us folks."
conversations: PainNoodle:
conversations: human
conversations:  you note that the box is fairly heavy and when moved there is no clattering or clanging sounds so what ever is in the box must take up the whole thing.
  
   ah...  sighs Taints discouragement plain on his face  oh well. there has been something iv been wondering bout tho,  his expression suddenly becoming excited  whats the story wit them hands o yours, curse? cauldron mixen gone wrong? piss off a fire gremlin? 
conversations: Daygone:
conversations: human
conversations:  With a slight smirk and a small chuckle escaping him, the Gunsmith shakes his head and settles himself down onto his chair once more.  Looking at his blackened hands a moment before lacing his fingers together he rests them on the table.
  
  "No sir. Least, no curse far as I can tell. An' certainly no cauldron mixing or, what was it, gremlins?  No, none o'that nonsense. It was from a mining job I had out west before pulling up stakes and moving here. Damn rock or coal or whatever the Hell it was, just kept gettin harder and harder to scrub off until..." He holds his hands up to finish his sentence for him. His sleeves are rolled up to the elbows and the black stains his skin about halfway down his forearms.
conversations: PainNoodle:
conversations: human
conversations:  Taints brow furrows  hmm... well that is odd, but not exciting. he glances at the window, well it seems to be getting late, i should get out of your hair, thank you for the meal and hospitality sir, mama, if you will excuse me.  Taints finishes his glass of water, gathers up the box and bag, waves a farewell and takes his leave.
  
  its about 9 pm now, and your children come back from cleaning up and request a story before bed.
conversations: Daygone:
conversations: human
conversations:  Sees Taints to the door like a good and proper host, locking it as he closes it behind the man before turning to face his family, exhaling heavily.  The exhaustion can't keep the smirk from his face though as his children request their stories.  Tucking them into bed, the Gunsmith then regales them with a tale of a crazy old man that got the idea in his head to steal the sun from the sky that ultimately ended in failure but holds valuable lessons nonetheless.  Afterwards he will go to bed with his wife where he will wake up early to begin work in his shop.
conversations: PainNoodle:
conversations: human
conversations:  you spend the next couple of days getting acquainted with your shops equipment and set up, everything a gun smith would need is hear. all the standard tools and equipment, there is also a larger piece of equipment that you have never seen before. you find instructions and after some time fiddlin with it you figure it out. when the door to your workshop opens up a man dressed in a black suite covered in worn duster that has something small and shinny on the upper left corner, and a dark gray, battered, stetson. In a gravely voice he says,  you the gun smith? 
conversations: Daygone: