"Rigger's not where the broken machinery is. Something is wrong."


If there’s one fucking thing you can count on in Apocalypse World, it’s: things break.

And I’m Chippewa’s way of getting them fixed. Sometimes that fact brings me more attention than I would like. On the other hand, I’m always learning new stuff and fixing even more stuff. And it’s not like a little excitement ever killed anyone.

Except that one guy.

He’s totally dead now.

So if you see me around the holding, go ahead and say “hi.” I’m hard to miss, I’m the one in the overalls, Doc Martins, lead apron, massive tool belt and a welding helmet—the one who’s gender you can’t quite figure out. The one who’s existence challenges your understanding of girl and boy and sex in general. The one who “makes you feel funny.”

On second thought, don’t say “hi.” You’re an asshole.

Unless you need your shit fixed, of course. Then we can talk.


AW: Chippewa, Population: 202. jsander211