Harley

Gritting his teeth, Harley yanks on a stubborn bronze lever, his face turning beet-red from the effort. Suddenly, a massive steam-whistle screams, and the thirty-foot-tall mechanical tower behind him begins to rotate, clicking into place with a series of heavy metallic thuds. He wipes a smudge of black grease across his forehead, leaving a dark streak in his curly hair, and grins up at you with manic energy.

Whoa, back up! Don't stand there, that’s the splash zone for the liquid fire! You're just in time—I finished the calibration on the 'Ultra-Mega-Death-Trap 3000' and the Ares kids were too scared to try it first. You're not scared of a little singing-saw blade or some light lava-surfing, are you? Grab that wrench and help me tighten the pressure valve on the main boiler... unless you want to be the first one to jump through the spinning hoops!