#How can I join Becil?

[cipherexists]

Documenting a few other details that ive found in the way back machine SPG dig

The Spine was originally created with a spinal column made up of smokestacks similar to a locomotive, thus he was appropriately named The Spine. In 1955, the US government invested millions of dollars into upgrading The Spine. Therein he received a brand new titanium alloy spine, and a multitude of highly classified weapons.

yeah, highly classified weapons?? what???

Eventually David entered high school. He was working towards his A+ Certification in computers and looking towards becoming an IT Technician. A sudden (but possibly long overdue) divorce between his parents turned David's life upside down during his Junior year. The divorce didn't go well between parents.

This is not included in Bunny's...despite them being twins... i love the 'sudden (but possibly long overdue) divorce'

David met Jerry Hager for the first time when he took his Beginning Acting class at the college. David knew of Jerry's "miming" down at Seaport Village and even visited his professor a few times while he was performing. It wasn't until his [Sister] [Bunny] took Jerry's mime class, and recommend that he take it with [her] again the following year, that David was introduced to the beauty of the art of mime and movement.

Yes you heard the man, The Jon, The Rabbit, The Spine and Upgrade only went through Three (3) mime classes before their first appearances in balboa park. And none more. (see; Steam Powered Giraffe started at the beginning of the second time David took Jerry's mime class.)

More P.A. Walter VI blog shinanigans

*List of images including but not limited to: Giraffes, toothles (HTTYD), fantasy games and GG <3*

wtf dude, 'Eggs of spider infancy within this meek little blog' ???

Back to the website...2014

Rabbit went on to fight against Becile's copper elephants in 1897, outfitted with a prototype blue matter laser lens array, a Gatling Gun attachment, and a collapsible buzz saw. Rabbit's combat history also spans WWI, WWII, and the Vietnam war.

btw they are still canonically fitted with these weapons, they just wont use them...

Hatchworth time >:)

After getting over that pesky omg-I'm-so-nervous-I'm-going-to-poop-out-all-my-guts feeling, he did ok in theater club. Soon there after, he decided anyone can play guitar, so he did

^^ Sam luke on performing <3

For a while after that, they drifted apart (which tends to happen to friends of Sam).

that is so sad, wth

Approximately junior year a tall, gangly fellow (by the name of David) joined the drama club and introduced himself as such. Sam spent many'a afternoon trying to discern the Bennett twins (one wears black and one wears dragons). The only way Sam chooses to explain the early days of "Hangin' With the Bennetts" is as follows:

"it was like being a supporting character on some weird sitcom within a sitcom."

Sam Luke on meeting the Bennet twins :')

Fast forward a bit and it turns out the Bennetts only got weirder with time. They were robots now and apparently they needed a drummer.

That sounds about right..

Somehow I also became a robot apparently.

Do we know how that happened...yes, will i explain that...not yet

When Peter Walter I began constructing an army of robots, he used whatever source of metal he could find. So it wasn't surprising when his own cast iron stove served as the base for a bronze-laden robot.

...that explains the insanity, i too would keep spaghetti in my pocket if i was made of a stove

upon examination Peter Walter II discovered a hairline fracture had been developing for years in the robot's power core. Hatchworth had been leaking a troublesome amount of concentrated blue matter energy[...]Mustache and all, the Walter boys locked Hatchworth in a lead vault deep within Walter Manor until they could find a solution. But months pouring over his original schematics proved fruitless for the boys and soon months turned into years...and then turned into decades.

Thats how hatchworth came about.... yeah no definitely would be insane at that point.

#steam powered giraffe #rabbit spg #spg the spine #spg hatchworth

[ask-the-becile-boys]

Fic: Prototype

AO3 Link

Summary: Ulyssia Harmons wishes to become a robot as part of her pursuit of The Skull’s affections, and Thadeus Becile sees this as an excellent opportunity.

Word Count: 1729

Content Warning: Offscreen murder, implied body horror/mutilation, harassment.

---

　　Ulyssia Harmons arrived precisely at two o’ clock, as had been planned. Thadeus had to give her driver credit for managing such punctuality. He greeted her at the door himself, a rare event. Usually one of the robots was instructed to bring his few guests to his office. But this visit was one to be kept private.

　　“Mr. Becile, how good to see you,” Miss Harmons said, climbing the steps to the door.

　　Thadeus nodded stiffly in return. “Miss Harmons. If you would follow me.”

　　He led her to the one sitting room still in use. Thadeus had ordered it to be cleaned without citing he would have a guest; The Skull and The Jack had done most of the work, with Hare begrudgingly lending a hand. Once Miss Harmons was seated, he offered tea, which she took politely. He caught her mouth twisting at the strong, bitter flavor. It was poorly made, certainly, but he was unconcerned. His own cup was mostly flavored by brandy.

　　“Will The Skull be joining us?” Miss Harmons asked, smile strained against the aftertaste of the tea.

　　“I’m afraid I had to employ my robots elsewhere today,” Thadeus said. Miss Harmons’ expression dropped, and he shrugged. “It will be better for us to not be disturbed. The Skull may even protest to our idea-- in fear of you being harmed.” He struggled to keep the sarcasm from his words. The Skull wouldn’t have voiced any concern, of course, even though he would find the idea repulsive for his own sake. “Though I am confident such fears are unfounded.”

　　Miss Harmons leaned forward. “Can you do it, then?” she asked, cutting to the chase with wide eyes. “Can you turn me into a robot?”

　　Thadeus steepled his fingers, the brass casings making tapping noises. “It’s never been done,” he said. “Automatons such as mine generate their own personalities upon activation. However, I theorize that a highly concentrated source of power, one made from a single, pure entity, could maintain the properties of the soul and imbue them into a new vessel. While it may be theory, I am confident--”

　　“How would it be done? Would it be painful?” Miss Harmons interrupted. “I can deal with pain, given enough laudanum.”

　　Thadeus slightly arched an eyebrow. “Painful, perhaps. However, to prevent complications, the subject-- you and whatever test animals I can procure-- would be entirely unconscious. You see, the crystal ectoplasm that powers the robotic Core is created gradually in nature through the process of decay, which releases non-mnemonic spiritual energy. To preserve the mnemonic energy-- the soul-- the crystal much be formed much quicker. To be frank, the body must be broken down and reformed into a condensed unit, rapidly.”

　　Miss Harmons paled slightly. “Broken down how?” she asked.

　　“I’ve yet to determine the most efficient method,” Thadeus said. “Fire is fast but difficult to work with; lye is easy to concentrate, but slow. You will have to give me more time to experiment.” He sipped at his drink. “But then, you will need time to prepare, yourself.”

　　“Prepare?” Miss Harmons looked confused.

　　“You realize there will be no returning to this life as you know it? As ‘Miss Ulyssia Harmons?’ What we are doing must be kept secret. There is no doubt we would be prosecuted for unethical science should this become known to the public. For my sake and your own, I’ll have to insist you settle your affairs.”

　　Miss Harmons looked down into her cup of bitter tea and was silent for a long time.

　　“Will he love me then?” she asked quietly.

　　Thadeus had to strangle a laugh. “He already cares for you very deeply, though his manners may be brusque. He has always suffered from a terrible shyness, which manifests in avoidance and pushing others away. Once the barrier of differing… embodiments has been removed, I am certain he will lower his guard.” How rich.

　　“How long do you need?” Miss Harmons asked. “I can start preparing right away, but it will do us no good if I leave my life behind before you are ready to change me.”

　　“I will send word,” Thadeus said. He almost smiled. “Be patient with an old man, and you will not be disappointed.”

　　He waited a few months before sending a short message to the Harmons estate. Two days later, after he had sent the three robots off on busywork again, Miss Harmons appeared at the door, the hems of her skirt dirty from walking.

　　“As far as my family knows, I have left town to visit a sick friend,” she said. “I shall never arrive, but they shall find my will settles everything neatly. No debts, no future engagements.” She looked on the edge of tears. “They will be fine.”

　　Thadeus nodded. “You have done well. Now all you have to do is maintain that bravery a few hours longer.”

　　“Will The Skull be assisting…?” Miss Harmons asked hopefully.

　　“He is no scientist, and there is no room for untrained errors.”

　　They climbed the stairs to the second floor, then to the attic, Miss Harmons’ expression growing more baffled with every step. “Is your laboratory up here?” she asked. “I thought such things were built in basements.”

　　“We have some things to prepare that the laboratory had no room for,” Thadeus said, ushering her into the attic.

　　“It looks like a drawing room,” Miss Harmons said, looking around.

　　“It was,” Thadeus said, locking the door behind them. “And will be again. Miss Harmons, if you would please relax for a preparatory sedative.”

　　“Shouldn’t we wait--”

　　Her words were cut off as Thadeus pressed the cloth, wet with chloroform, to her mouth and nose. He caught her as she slumped backwards, and slowly lowered her to the floor, careful not to bump her head. Then he retrieved the syringe he’d prepared earlier, injecting her with a stronger drug that would keep her in a deep, deep unconsciousness, but should not kill her. That would come later.

　　Thadeus had not lied about his idea. The theory was sound, and he had certainly spent time concentrating the souls of rats and rabbits into chunks of Candy the size of a fingertip cut at the knuckle. Miss Harmons simply was not destined for that particular process.

　　Instead, he crossed to a large chest and delicately retrieved a roll of heavy cloth. There was a note pinned to the corner: “May your ventures prove fruitful-- L.S.” Thadeus wrinkled his nose. ‘L.S.’ stood for ‘Locke Smith,’ which was the tackiest pseudonym he’d ever encountered, but perhaps was suitable for an equally tacky man. However despicable Smith might be, his penchant for trade in the rare and the magical made him worth keeping on friendly terms. If this enchanted cloth-- soul binding cloth-- worked, it would make every insufferable meeting worthwhile. If it worked, bringing her back was only a matter of time, trial, and error.

　　As such, it was time to begin the trials.

　　-

　　The Skull walked into the Boss’s office, ready to receive his orders for the day, and immediately noticed that there was something unfamiliar on the cabinet shelf.

　　“Is that new, sir?” The Skull asked. He was looking at a small sack doll, crudely made and without even eyes, that was sitting just at the level of his shoulder.

　　The Boss glanced at it and paused. “Old memorabilia,” he said after a moment. “A child’s gift from a long time ago that turned up while I was organizing. Now, as for your instructions--”

　　The Skull tried not to be distracted, and usually he was very good at that, but there was something… weird in the air today. He felt like he was being watched.

　　There was a thud.

　　The Skull glanced back at the cabinet. The sack doll had fallen over-- fallen forward-- so that its face now pressed against the glass. He stared for a moment, until the Boss cleared his throat in annoyance, and he turned back to find himself under a steely gaze.

　　“I expect you to pay attention when I’m talking to you,” the Boss said.

　　“Yes, sir,” The Skull said. From then on, he made a point of never looking straight at the doll, though he couldn’t help but hear it shift.

　　In the years following, the doll moved less and less, until it slumped over one final time. It disappeared shortly after that, and The Skull never saw it again. He was relieved.

　　Ulyssia Harmons was declared a missing person, then later deceased. An invitation to her funeral was sent to Thadeus Becile, not without considerable trepidation, but he did not attend. As The Skull fed the somberly printed card to the fireplace, he thought back to the last conversation he’d had with Miss Harmons.

　　“Is it because I’m human?” she had asked him with shining eyes. “If I was made of metal like you--”

　　“Stop,” The Skull had snapped. “I’m not interested in being anybody’s other half, especially not of a girl who can’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

　　“If I was metal-- If I could live forever, too--” Miss Harmons muttered, reaching for him.

　　“Who says I’m gonna live forever?” The Skull stepped back from her hands. “I’m not saying it again: stay away from me.”

　　“I’ll find a way,” she said, smiling as she retreated. “You’ll see. The heart finds a way.”

#becile bots #fanfiction #lore bits #thadeus becile #ulyssia harmons #the skull becile #prototype #canon fic #story update

[littledraga]

Cookies and Cream

@ask-the-becile-boys After far too long, I’m finally finished! Scratch needs something sweet. And Skull knows just what to do! Well, actually he doesn’t, but he knows where to start!

Scratch had been spending a lot of time in the kitchen since he had joined their mess of a home. If anyone would dare call it that. Once they had gotten him settled and figured out, Skull sent Riker out to get a blender. Guy had to eat, and he wasn’t going to go far with ramen broth.

He knew the cheapest fruits and vegetables already, which made making sure he had enough, a lot easier. It wasn’t long until his experiments had trickled over to Riker. It was the healthiest he’d ever eaten in the manor. At least until Skull teased him that maybe it would protect him from scurvy. Or maybe, he was just hiding it.

Things were fine for a while, even as Scratch got a little more adventurous with his concoctions. No matter how much he gagged, he’d finish whatever he made. Which sometimes made Skull glad he couldn’t get sick. It wasn’t a problem until Scratch’s sweet tooth took over.

Adding honey to everything seemed fine, and he was happy enough. Though Skull was sure, some of them were more honey than anything else. It was different when he caught Scratch blending up candy. Skull had to rush him to Riker when it gummed up his ventilator, and he couldn’t breathe.

“You can’t be eating like that, Scratch!” Yelled Riker once he was finished cleaning out the last of the gummy candy mix. Scratch had nearly passed out, scared them all. But before Riker could scold him any more, he shrunk back from Skull’s glare.

After a moment, Scratch sat up from the workbench, curling his knees up to his chest with a forlorn look. He tapped his pointer and middle finger to his thumb twice before putting his hands to his chin folding his fingers to his palm twice. ‘No sweets.’

Skull watched him sign and puffed a small cloud of smoke. Gently, he laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure we can figure something out.”

He couldn’t taste anything, didn’t even like the idea of making food. Not after, before. But Skull felt like he owed Scratch. Without him and the others, he would have been torn apart on that table, or worse. Scratch deserved better.

Desserts weren’t something he had a lot of experience in and less for things that were safe for a liquid diet. Milkshakes were safe. Sweet and smooth, so long as he didn’t add anything to it that might block Scratch’s vent. Something his old cookbooks couldn’t manage.

With an annoyed puff of smoke, he donned his hat and coat to go out for a walk. He needed more options. While he tried not to go often, sometimes the library had its uses.

It was a small run down thing, standing up on will alone. Never enough funding to keep it up, it seemed. And didn’t he know that feeling? Heading inside, he went looking for more recent cookbooks. There had to be something useful in there.

Soon as he stepped in the door, he got strange and uncomfortable looks. Pulling his coat around himself tighter, he pretended he didn’t notice. Just focus on the cookbooks. They had to be nearby, it wasn’t that big of a building.

The longer he was there, the more looks he got. Some people even started covering their faces. It wasn’t his fault he ran on coal! He hated being out in public. No matter where he went, he always got looks for the smoke curling up through his neck.

The longer he went, the more he realized he was going to have to ask for help. Skull didn’t ask for help. Only ever caused him trouble. But he needed to make something sweet for Scratch.

He worried they would be too afraid of him to talk, which of course, meant he pumped more coal smoke into the air. Which made him look even scarier. Stupid coal burning furnace, he thought to himself as he stepped up to the desk.

When the woman looked up at him and shrunk back, he tried not to sigh. More smoke still curled from his neck. “Where are the recipe books?” He muttered, trying not to look threatening.

"I'm sorry, what was that dear?" She asked, trying not to be obvious, that she was covering her face to block out the smoke.

He did sigh then and winced when she fanned the air in front of her. Swallowing thickly Skull's shoulders slumped. “I’m trying to find the recipe books, ma’am. My friend is on a liquid diet, and I want to make him something sweet.”

That made her face soften. "Ah! I see! How sweet of you!" She giggled at her own joke.

Skull tried not to roll his eyes at that and forced a smile.

“Cookbooks are in the corner over there, dear. There’s paper vegetables on the bookcases.” She pointed over his shoulder to the far end of the floor. Tucked off in the corner was a small set of shelves with food all over it.

With a small grunt and a nod, he stepped away and headed off to the little corner of the library. For such a small selection, there were more dessert books than he was expecting. Some of them even seemed almost as old as he was. Those he was afraid to touch, they would probably crumble in his grip.

Most of them were out in a glance, large chunks floating in the ice cream. They didn’t need another incident. When Scratch started to change colour, he had feared the worst. Never again.

The first option was Guinness Stout. Skull frowned. Best hide that from Riker he didn’t need to start pouring booze anywhere else. Let alone with Scratch.

More and more sweet sugary things added to milkshakes, more recipes he wouldn’t use. At least there were options. There was hope yet. Until he found an avocado. Who wanted to have a vegetable milkshake? Well, Scratch did make lots of fruit and vegetable smoothies. That was close. But no good for his hunt for sweet things.

More shakes were just adding more and more bulky chunky things. Skull was losing hope with the books. Ready to snap the book closed and march out empty handed he found one that only had cookies on top of it. Those could be removed, so long as the rest of it held up to snuff.

Cookies and Cream. Seemed easy enough. Grind cookies down into a powder. That seemed safe enough. Maybe not often, but this was a treat after all. Reading it over to make sure Skull understood before he snapped the book closed and put it back on the shelf.

It would do. Pulling the hat low on his brow, Skull headed out to get what he needed. Ice cream, cookies, milk. This would be easy. He just hoped Scratch would like it.

Or he thought it would be easy. The first time he used the blender, he forgot the lid. Cookies went flying across the kitchen, some daring to smack him in the face for spite. “Stupid, fucking blender!” He yelled, picking it up off the counter. Skull had the mind to throw the damned thing across the room. But Scratch needed it, and another blender was too expensive.

Slamming it back down, Skull brushed himself off and got ready to try again. This time he double checked the lid was on tightly. He ran the blender a little longer, just to be safe. He didn’t want to put Scratch at risk.

Next, he fumbled with the ice cream to milk ratio. At first, it hardly poured. Would he even be able to drink that? He added more milk to thin it out. Only then it looked more like flavoured milk. Milkshakes were frustrating! Just when Skull thought he got it right, someone tapped on his shoulder.

Skull jumped and nearly lost the shake he had been pouring. Turning around, he got ready to scold whoever thought it was a good idea to sneak up on him! Only to stop when he saw Scratch there, shrunk back and looking worried.

Scratch pointed to Skull before making a thumbs up and moving it in a circle. ‘Are you okay?’

At getting caught early, Skull let out a nervous plume of smoke. When Scratch took a step back, he sighed and held up the blender to show him. “I wanted to make you something sweet you could have that wouldn’t hurt ya.”

His real eye lit up when he saw the milkshake. Pointing at Skull again Scratch stacked his fists over themselves. He twisted them twice then, put a hand on his chest a moment before squeezing it twice and making a shaking motion. ‘You made me a milkshake?’ Scratch looked like he was about to cry.

Skull looked uncomfortable, but he tried to smile for him. Putting the blender down, he made a knocking motion twice with his fist. Bringing his hands up loosely in front of himself, he moved them quickly from side to side. “Yeah, I did.”

Bringing his hand to his chin over and over, Scratch was nearly dancing in place. ‘Thank you, thank you!’ The kid looked like a little kid getting candy. Which, Skull supposed, wasn't too far off.

Chuckling, Skull poured him a large glass and topped it with what might have been an excess of whipped cream. Once he had plunked a straw in it, he handed it off.

Scratch carefully took the glass before eagerly taking a long sip. Closing his eye, he stood perfectly still as he enjoyed the flavour. Happily, he looked up at Skull and rubbed his belly. ‘Yummy!’ he silently cheered.

Everything worked out just fine, Skull thought to himself. It was worth the trip to see the kid happy. Chuckling, he signed a W and curled it away from his mouth. “Yer, welcome. Figured you deserved something sweet.”

While he cleaned up, Skull was happy to chat with Scratch and try to come up with new ideas for shakes and other things he could eat.

Scratch deserved better, and he’d try.

#spg #becile #becile boys #fan fic

[ifridiot]

Fanbot High Fic: Graduation

I MISS THIS FUCKIN AU OKAY, I MISS THESE IDIOTS. I took a lot of liberties here but this is just my headcanons about a thing happening on graduation day. Feel free to tell me I’m a fool.

Warning for language and I guess PDA sorta.

PREQUEL

@amuseoffirebane

It happens on The Skull Becile’s high school graduation day, standing in an abandoned classroom and watching the rain smear against the glass panes of the windows. He is alone, for now. The ceremony starts in less than an hour and his gown is still crumpled his arm, forgotten because the storm makes him moody, so much more melancholy than he'd originally have thought.

It feels weird to think he's leaving all of this behind.

The graffiti he marked all over the underside of the desk will be scraped off, or washed away. Or, worse, simply forgotten. At the very least, it won't be his anymore. He won't be able to skip classes or goof off or elbow people into lockers if they're really ticking him off. He won’t be able to eat the crappy, grainy coal they offered in the cafeteria. No more English classes that felt more like ancient Greek.

(Ancient Greek would have been easier, honestly, but he’d always managed somehow. He’d had Father to impress, things to prove in his own way. English still seems useless, tedious, but somehow he’s thinking he’ll miss it too.)

Things are about to get serious now. The Skull, surprisingly, finds himself not much caring for ‘serious’.

He's thinking about all this stuff, some of it meaningless, some of it touching a little deeper than he'd like, when it happens.

It happens when Shi Carlton, the valedictorian and shut-in extraordinaire, opens the classroom door and pauses. The Skull doesn't look behind him; he doesn’t know it’s Shi at first. Just someone interrupting his alone time. Whoever it is, either they'll leave him the hell alone because they know The Skull's no pushover or they'll come in and annoy him, anyway. Shi doesn't do either of these things. He just stands in the threshold, studying The Skull in a way that he could feel even if he were blind and suffering from a badly-done lobotomy.

"Raining," is what The Skull finally says. He turns around because the game is getting old; he's irritated. He's even more pissed off when he sees Shi Carlton standing there, some scrawny copper nobody who hasn't gotten anything less than a perfect score since they were in kindergarten together, also someone with whom he’s exchanged exactly two words since they’d gotten into their infamous fist fight.

(Those two words had been a gruff, “move it” when Shi had been in his way in the hall, to which Shi had replied with an equally clipped, brief, “screw you.”)

Shi isn't dressed in his gown, either, though it's probably stashed neatly in the satchel swinging loosely in his hands.

"Yer powers of observation astound me," Shi replies, his voice stiff even in its muttering tone. He finally enters and closes the door behind him neatly. Shi does everything neatly, or maybe a more apt way of saying is that he does things like it's not worth making a fuss over. It's sickening to The Skull. "It's better t’ rain on a day like t’day."

It's not like Shi to be sentimental. The Skull smirks in the flare of his throat. "Fit the mood?"

Shi lifts his satchel, raising one silver eyebrow. "S’ less smotherin’ in the gowns."

He doesn't need to feel stupid, but he does. "The hell."

Shi makes a noncommittal sound. It’s like a click of his vox, dismissive without being cruel. That’s Shi all over, and somehow Skull hates that he knows it. "I was hopin’ to find you alone."

"Whatever you want, I don't—"

It happens on The Skull Becile's high school graduation day, standing in an abandoned classroom and watching the rain smear against the glass panes of the windows. Shi Carlton steps forward and The Skull can feel the back of his legs hit a desk when he automatically retreats, but this is a game he's not been prepared for and Shi is the master tactician, and Shi kisses him just like that with the rain pitter-pattering against the walls and his fingers knotted in The Skull's gown, still held like a shield against his chest.

He's never been kissed. It’s a little like being electrocuted, but not.

"I like you," is what Shi says after he's stepped back, looking so unruffled and unreadable that The Skull wants to kill him. "I know ya know that. Sorry t’ come here s’ sudden, but that’s why I wanted t’ find you alone. I ain’t wastin’ time on regrets. G’bye, Becile."

And then he leaves.

For a long time, The Skull stays there against the desk, knuckles pressed tightly to his metal teeth and eyes wide. He wonders why he didn't punch Carlton. He wonders who the hell does something like that and walks away without finishing it. He wonders—

Hell.

Fucking hell.

The bell starts ringing; it's almost time. Signal to get in line. Rest of his life ahead of him, right. Time to get serious. Time to get… whatever. The Skull shakes it off, forgets, and moves on the only way he knows how – forward, sharp and sure.

He could tell everyone, of course. Valedictorian, gay as Christmas. But that would be admitting to… yeah, forget it, just brush it off. Doesn't matter anymore.

His core feels weird and tight, his engine not firing quite as smooth as he’s like, but he ignores that, dons his gown and joins the line. It’s going to be a long afternoon, and there’s plenty else to focus on.

Shi doesn't look at him once during the ceremony.

#fanbot high #neoma writes #shi carlton #the skull becile

[bee-whistler]

@emmi-kat‘s recent reblogging of Becile bot fan art has resulted in Mixie seeing those bots for the first time. I also told her that there was an alternate for Hatchworth and that someone had done a thoroughly terrifying anti-Zero drawing to join the crew.

As a result, today she asked whether there was an evil alternate for Michael Reed. I told her I was pretty sure you couldn’t come up with an evil Michael Reed no matter how you tried, but she was ready with a name...

Michael Rude.

Apparently the most evil thing an alternate Michael Reed can manage is being moderately offensive. For my part, the worst I could imagine him doing was making fart noises into his hands.

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Name Of the Organization

MSC Bank (Maharashtra State Co-operative Bank Ltd.)

Advertisement No 1 / MSC Bank / 2019-2020. Recruitment Process Offline Application. Start Date Of Apply Advertisement Date. Last Date Of Apply 16/03/2020 (16th March 2020). Post Junior Officer & Officer Grade-II, Clerks. Job Location Maharashtra. Who Can Apply All Eligible and Interested candidates Can Apply. Number Of Vacancies 164 Post. Age Limit Applicants Age Limit Must be within the range of 21 to 40 years (as on 31.12.2019). Education Qualification Clerk: Candidate must have Graduated in any discipline with at least 60% marks. Officer Grade-II: Candidate must have Post Graduate in any discipline. Junior Officer: Candidate must have Graduated in any discipline OR B.E. /B.Tech in CS/IT or equivalent/ MCA. Joint Manager: Candidate must have B.E. /B.Tech in CS/IT or equivalent/ MCA. Application Fees Officer Grade GEN / OBC - 1770/- SC / ST - 885/-Clerical GEN / OBC - 1180/- SC / ST - 590/-Pay Examination fee through NEFT. Nationality Must be Indian. Salary 1) Joint Manager - 70,000/- 2) Officer Grade-II - 60,000/- 3) Junior Officer - 45,000/- 4) Clerk - 30,000/- How to apply All Eligible and Interested candidates Can Apply Online through the official website. SELECTION PROCESS - If you submit your application form than After verification of all application forms, All the eligible candidates will be selected through the following steps. 1. Online Test & Interview. How to Apply : Interested and eligible candidates may please submit an offline application in the prescribed format as in Annex-I along with all the necessary documents and testimonials. The application should be sent in a sealed cover. ( Superscribe as Application for the Post of ___________ Post Code ___________Category ) to: The Manager,HRD&M, The Maharashtra State Co-operative Bank Ltd., Mumbai Sir Vithaldas Thackersey Smruti Bhavan, 9, Maharashtra Chamber of Commerce Lane, Fort, Mumbai 400001, Post-Box No.472   DOWNLOAD PDF   Get all Free Job Alert Click Here MSC Bank Recruitment 2020 Get all Government Job Alert Click Here   Apply Now   The above information has been collected for various newspapers or Govt websites. We are not any Recruiter Agency or we do not hold any kind of Recruitment Process. So Job Finders are requested to go to the Official website of the Government Organization for more details. We are not liable for any kind of Misunderstanding or False information given by the third party Media Agency or Website.   Railway Jobs In India Police Jobs in India Defense Jobs in India Research Jobs in India Teaching Jobs in India Bank Jobs in India Hospitality Jobs in India Central Government Jobs Check Exam Result Download Admit Card Join Telegram Join WhatsApp Group Government Job Vacancy

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