Mind Your Fingers

Log Info

• Title: Mind Your Fingers
• Emitter: Aryia
• Characters: Aryia, Verna, Glasha, Cesran
• Place: Arcanist's Society
• Time: December 22nd, 2021
• Summary: At the Arcanist's Society, Aryia is working on a tiny project: putting together an piece of artifice. Verna stops by, spotting the mute trying to closing a toy top, only succeeding in cutting her finger. She offers some advice, and some tools, which get the job done. Small victories. Aryia gets Verna's opinion on something, and assures there's no outside pressure dictating it, 'twas just an idle thought. Verna leaves, and Glasha takes her place. The two get acquainted, speaking of their strengths and professions, and familiarity with magic. Cesran passes by, him informing the current status of finding Aya, and Aryia bringing him up to date as well with what she's found.

Arcanist's Society, Late Afternoon.

Clink.

Wrrr.

Clank.

Cli-twing!

A spring ricochets off of a scarred mul'neissa's forehead. She makes an 'ack' sound, flails backwards, and clatters out of her chair. A clutter of fine metal parts fall into a pile at the table she was sitting at. Groaning, she looks around the floor, her lighting a hand up to find the assaulting spring.

While the Society does have work areas (there IS more to magic than reading, despite what impressions some may contribute to), they tend to harbor less ... mechanical sounds. Those are far more common at the Artificer's Hall across the street, with which some visitors here are also familiar. They can oft be identified by their sudden duck and cover reflex, in preparation for follow-on cackling and/or detonations.

Verna is and is not one such individual; while she does not diver for cover beneath a large piece of furniture, the distinct ping does draw her attention from her reading. That the be-twinged is familiar, and not an excessively-frequent visitor keeps her focus and draws her to approach. Hovering above and behind her shoulder is a possibly equally-curious mechanical, spheroid companion.

"Is all well?" she inquires as she nears.

Aryia has her face pressed against the floor, her holding up a moonlit hand like a torch. She pauses, looks uuup, then gives a little embarrased wave. "Why do the springs have to be so small?" she motions with the glowing hand. Some more patting around, then, 'ah'.

The mute rises, her holding a tiny spiral piece of metal that was no longer than her fingernail. She plops back down in the chair. She carefully places it on the pile, then regards Verna fully. "Hello," she properly greets, glancing between the Mourner and the floating sphere. <Handspeech>

The hovering, coppery, amber-'eyed' spheroid seems quite curious as it floats obliquely over for a different angle to view the mul's collection of parts. "Hello," Verna signs now that she has Aryia's attention. While she is also curious, and glances at the workspace, she also inquires directly, "What project is this, if I may ask?" <Handspeech>

The collection of parts was primarily flat discs, a spindle, a couple of springs and a minute power source. There is a half-page of Kulthian written out, diagraming a device that should spin on its own.

Aryia colors a tinge, her rubbing her neck. "... well. Uh. Since I got a basic grasp of Kulthian, I saw some toys in the markets a few days ago. And I kind of understood how they worked? I'm... trying to remake one."

She gestures to the pile, her fingers sporting a small array of tiny cuts. <Handspeech>

Verna nods more than once as she splits her attention between Aryia's explanation and the referenced parts. "You seem to possess all the necessary parts and materials to do so," she notes, "and it is a beneficial practical application of your studies." Given that Kulthian and design of artifice, of any degree, are so inrinsically linked.

Aryia gives a light sigh, and nods. "It is. Someone I work with uses artifice a decent bit, so I figured it'd be good to learn how to at least put a screw in if it comes up."

The mute gathers the materials once more, steady hands from sewing carefully placing plate after plate together. One spring goes into place, latches onto a hook, and a plate is wound back...

Ping! The plate snaps back and digs into a finger. The pugilist flinches, her mouthing 'ow'. She pulls the hand back and to staunch the faint bleeding with her mouth. "Harder than it looks. Is there anything small you started working on when you first picked this stuff up?" <Handspeech>

"Indeed, " Verna notes vocally, "it would not do well to have a screw loose." She watches Aryia work, not stepping away yet attempting to not hinder her space nor lighting. There is a slight wince at the sudden snapping of plates.

"My forays were primarily maintenance and minor repairs on existing rather than full assembly. Still, I would suggest some tools for fine work. Even a small clamp to act as a simple additional set of fingers for a moment can be a great aid and prevent a great deal of frustration."

After a gesture to the aggressive parts in question for accent, she follows with a gesture, "You could invite your work ally to assist as well." <Handspeech>

Aryia nods, stuffing her finger into her shirt to staunch the minor cut. Her free hand motions, "I plan on getting some tools soon. I'm just making sure I know what I'm getting into before I start dropping gold for these things. Already spent a lot of it recently for this.

The pugilist pulls her collar down some, revealing a trio of necklaces that rest against her sternum. One was a platinum ring, another was a shark's tooth. And the third-

She taps it with her finger. The circular amulet flat and unassuming, but the poke makes light splay across it, showing pock-marks across its surface, and nudging it makes it glow a silvery hue.

She pulls her collar back up, then looks aside. "... it's... sort of a surprise," she motions slowly, pursing her lips. <Handspeech>

Verna ahs softly at the explanations and nods. She has been economically-challenged on more than one occassion and, more recently, experienced with surprise intent. "In that case," she notes as one hand delves into her robes before returning with a leather bundle, rolled and tied closed, "you are welcome to use mine."

The bundle is set upon the workbench near the parts. "They are not of the finest make nor the most specialized collection, but they should suffice and be of aid."

Aryia looks over, her brows raising some. She smiles. "Oh. Thank you Verna," she gestures warmly, reaching for the bundle and carefully unrolling it. She pulls a few things out, recognition flashing across her face with a few of them. "What are some things I could try and make that are useful? No fancy guns, or crazy stuff. Just... you know, day to day things," she asks of the Mourner, curious.

She takes a small clamp, gets back to the step she was at, and clamps the plates down as she strings on a spring. The pugilist smirks slightly in victory. <Handspeech>

Verna considers Aryia's request for ideas as the full-blood works on that stage of the assembly. While the Mourner's tools are aligned more towards the maintenance and repair of 'fancy guns' (which Aryia may or may not be able to readily discern), tools for use with small parts are, well, tools for use with small parts.

Her lips purse. "I am uncertain. As noted, I did not create so much as maintain. The Artificer's Hall may well have a number of suggestions, perhaps even full introductory projects for their acolytes. the Hall is located across the plaza; a most unusual construction that resembles a colossol arachnid. It may well be a construct in and of itself."

Ah, that's why the mute recognized it. Firearm's tools. She's got a pair of tweezers now, carefully placing the tiny power source into a slot in the plates as she picks another spring up, threading it onto a hook.

She pauses, her looking up with brows raised.

Blink blink.

"... how the fuck did I miss that?" she gestures out in disbelief, which soon smacks against her face. "Thank you for telling me. That will help a lot. I don't want to make something that chops my fingers off. I use those." <Handspeech>

"Indeed," Verna nods. "I would not wish you to loose fingers, either. It would make conversations with you significantly less efficient, and far less ..colorful."

Aryia has to put the tools down for her to bark in laughter. Well, less a bark, and more of wheeze followed by a light cough. She shakes her head, snickering and rubbing at her throat. "If you thought my Handspeech was colorful, you should hear me speak in colors."

That thought makes her smile. Then dim slightly. Then smooth otu to a pensive thought. A thought she takes to the little artifice toy, her putting the last bits together. It clicks closed, and she takes the clamp off.

It wasn't anything much, just an inverted cone with a spindle on it's apex, with a tiny handle to twist on the flat part of the cone. She winds the handle a few turns, places it on the table, and pushes down.

It whirrs, and starts to spin. Just a simple toy top.

Aryia smiles faintly at it, rubbing at the nicks and cuts on her fingers. <Handspeech>

Perhaps Verna should, though she does not make further comment upon 'colorful language.' Instead she simply observes the assembly process... and notes the smile as well. Simple or not, it is still perhaps more than she has ventured.

As the top spins of its own accord, she offers, "Congratulations. It appears functional, and did not detonate. While that may annoy a number of gobbers, I expect that such is the desired outcome."

Aryia softly laughs at that. "Thank you. I'm sure if I didn't have your tools, the goblins would be cheering by now."

She carefully returns the tools, rolls them back up, and offers them to Verna. Though, her gaze stays on the top, it spinning idly in tight circles on the table. Pensive.

"Verna," she motions slowly. "... do you think its worth the effort getting my voice back? I never really cared about it before. But I'd have to learn how to talk again, and that sounds like a pain in the ass." <Handspeech>

Oddly, Verna does not require (or simply does not take) time for consideration on this topic. "I expect that the physical damage could be readily repaired:" she notes, "to your voice, to your flesh. Whether you should is entirely your decision."

She meets Aryia's gaze firmly, now gesturing just below so that the signs are in their fields of view. "The scars to either make you no less than you are, so, accordingly, repairing them would not make you more. You did not care before, so I must ask what makes them a concern, now?"

Aryia purses her lips and sighs through her nose. "I know. I'm pretty sure even you could fix it with a wave of a hand and a spell."

The firm gaze is met, then broken as she watches the top make wider and wider circles. "It's just an idle thought, and wanted your opinion is all," she signs back. "Nothing more." The mute stretches, cracking her neck a few times. <Handspeech>

Verna nods, lightly, once. She follows Aryia's gaze to the spinning top. Thus she speaks, albeit quietly, "My opinion is that you should only do so for your own reasons, and not for those of others. While I could understand a wish to serenade Violet with song, or a desire to appear less scarred to her, I dare to guess that none of that weighs upon her thoughts in the slightest."

Aryia softly snickers, shaking her head. "No, I don't plan on getting rid of my scars, no matter how much the harkers in the trades try to sell me their alchemy remedies. I like my scars. And... it wouldn't be for Violet. You're right, she likes me for me. It's just an idle thought is all. Just can do all these crazy things now. Was just wondering if it was worth doing or not. Guess I'll have to meditate on that."

The top slows slightly, then topples over, grinding to a halt. Aryia softly chuckles, and picks it up. <Handspeech>

Verna now reaches to take up the re-bound bundle of tools. In a reverse of the previous, they vanish into her robes. Of course, Aryia is one of the few aware of how little of that overall volume is actually physically occupied by the mourner; and that does not include the possibilite of extra-dimensional storage. "Indeed." She appears to concur with any or all of that.

"How fare your parents... or, perhaps, how do you fare in handling their presence?"

Aryia nods, and moves onto a new topic as she stuffs the top and page into her jacket. Hmm... maybe she should get something similar, extra-dimensional storage.

The question gets her to rub her cheek. "It's.. going well. The headaches aren't as bad. But I think they're just getting better and dancing around topics. They're okay. Getting used to the city. They've finally reigned in the Shadow, and they've been nice. It's... nice. I plan on taking them to the Colosseum so they can see what I do. Thank you for asking" <Handspeech>

Glasha steps out of one of the various Arcanist Society buildings. She claps her spellbook closed as she notices the light snow drifting down. Slipping the mithril-bound book into her satchel, she raises her hood and smiles. She squats down and scoops up snow. Squishing it into a tight ball, she holds it in her hand. It begins to glow like a torch. She draws back her hand and pitches the snow ball at one of the central columns. It piffs into a shower of sparkling lights that scatter like embers upon the light powder accumulating below. The effect is somewhat eerie, but quite lovely. She seems to notice Verna and her friend sitting around. She walks through her slowly fading experiment. The light shines up as darkness falls, giving the half-human some dramatic ambiance before she steps past it. Then it gives her some dramatic backlighting before completely fading away. She gestures with both hands, her axe-staff not on her person just now. "Hello. My name's G-L-A-S-H-A," she spells out with her fingers. <handspeech>

A grey, silver clad ear twitches at the piff of snow, her turning her head to catch who approaches. Her brows raise, watching the glimmering display and fade out. Curious, and vaguely recognizing the woman. A scarred hand raises, the mul'neissa smiles politely, and motions back. "Hello. My name is A-R-Y-I-A. Nice to meet you G-L-A-S-H-A," she gestures. <Handspeech>

"Nice to meet you," Glasha offers back. Her movements are a little accented, but quite fluid and surprisingly graceful and feminine for someone so clearly muscular. "This is Luna," Glasha signs, using the proper name for the moon before gesturing up to the large, black bird sitting on her shoulder. "I hope I'm not interruping your conversation." <handspeech>

Aryia's torch-bright gaze flicks from signs to the bird. She bobs her head, and waves to them as well, knowing full well that familiars might get stingy at being left out.

She shakes her head. "No, you're not. We're just catching up on small things. What brings you here today?" she inquires, turning to face Glasha more properly in her chair. <Handspeech>

Glasha points at the library she just came out of. She then signs, "Translation. Study. Need a break from forging."

Luna watches the two back and forth, then speaks in a pale immitation of Glasha's voice. 'Are you two just trying to exclude me?' she asks, impatiently. <handspeech>

Aryia's chin dips in a nod. "I see. I've used it plenty before for such a thing."

The mute blinks, and looks up at Luna. Her brows raise, and she shakes her head. She points to herself, puts a finger to her lips, then points to a jagged, rough scar that goes across the front of her throat. <Handspeech>

Glasha reaches up and strokes her familiar's feet. 'She's unable to speak,' she says.

'I got that from context, thank you,' Luna retorts.

"I speak quite a few languages, including some ancient dialects. I do a lot of work translating ancient texts for the library. Obviously, I can't translate spellbooks, even ancient ones." <handspeech>

Aryia purses her lips slightly, rubbing her neck at Luna's retort but she shakes her head to read the signs. 'ah', she silently mouths. "I only know a few," her hands speak for her. "What do you mean by 'obviously can't'?" she asks, clearly unknowning of the finer intricacies of magic. <Handspeech>

Glasha thinks for a moment. She begins to sign. "Eldritch isn't the same for everyone. It is your own personal madness given to you by magic. I don't know if you're a wizard, but if Verna handed me her spellbook, I couldn't make heads or tails of it. The only way we can share spells is to make a ready-to-go spell scroll, give it to someone, then let them take it apart, magically, and reverse-engineer the magic out of it." She hesitates. "Am I using all the right technical signs?" she asks. <handspeech>

Cesran comes out of one of the halls and he has some rolled parchments under his arm. He has a frown in his face and looks a bit tired. He takes a look around two see who's about. He nods politely to a couple of other members that he knows before he spots Aryia at one of the tables. Verna is noticed next as well as the green-skinned young lady with them. He takes off the pack on his back to secure the rolled parchments inside before he starts over towards them, his staff in hand. He stops before them and lets his staff stand on it's own before he starts to use handspeech, "Greets, it's good to see you all. I hope you are all doing well." The crystal dragon head on his staff bows politely before she speaks, "Greetings."

Aryia's brows pinch together as Glasha explains, her scratching the side of her head. "Uh..." she gestures with a flutter of her fingers. "... I.. don't know if you are. I just don't know what the word "Eldritch" is," she points out. "But it... sounds kind of unsettling, to be honest. Madness that is."

She catches a familiar man and staff glide out of the halls. She raises a hand, waving for her greeting to both of them. <Handspeech>

'Hello,' Glasha says with a smile.

Luna, meanwhile, stares at the crystalline dragon. She gronks out a call, gripping Glasha's shoulder more tightly as she resists the urge to fly over and grab the shiny thing.

Glasha signs, "Eldritch is a magical language that marks a wizard as such. No other caster gets such an intimate sign of their innate magical ability." As she signs, she speaks aloud, forcing Aryia to pay attention to one or the other. She says, 'Aryia and I were just talking about the nature of magic.' <handspeech>

Cesran ahs a little bit, "I don't want to interrupt on such a fascinating topic. I just saw Aryia and wanted to give her an update that I'm continuing to look into the location of Aya, although she seems to move each time I cast Discern location, she's still definitely in the country she was before. I've started to do some research into that country as well as make discrete inquiries. I have to coordinate with Cryosanthia which has been challenging given the current situations. I will continue to gather what information I can."

Aryia sighs, rubbing her neck with gesturing with her free hand. "That's... something new I didn't know. I guess that explains the random nonsense I hear when some people cast spells."

She turns to Cesran, her blinking a few times before standing up briskly out of her chair. "Oh, shit, okay, okay!" she gestures quickly and crudely, attentive. "I did some report digging at the Explorer's Guild, and turns out there's been a lot of Taara activity as of late in Charn. The two might be related." <Handspeech>

Cesran gives a weary smile, "Thank you for letting me know that I'll look into it, perhaps it's another piece of the puzzle so we can figure out how to get Aya out of Charn with hopefully no injuries. I've got some research I need to finish up. Good day to you both." He says as he takes his staff and heads out.

Glasha watches the exchange, then nods to Cesran. She signs to Aryia once Cesran has gone. "Are you a sorceress? I'm just curious." <handspeech>

Aryia waves goodbye as Cesran and Verna depart, the mute turning to the taller woman. The question makes her brows pinch together, and she shakes her head. "No, I don't do any of that. I'm more of a hands-on kind of person," she explains, stopping her signing to show her calloused hands. "I can only do a little bit of magic, but that's just mul'neissa stuff and other things."<Handspeech>

Glasha nods. "I understand," she signs, very deliberately. She moves to take Verna's seat. "I'm not very familiar with your people's innate magical abilities. What can you do? How does it work? I'm curious."

<handspeech>

Aryia leans against the table, her tilting her head to the side and rubbing her neck. "I'm not too versed in it, but we're born with shadow. Able to make push it and pull it. I don't know why or whatever. But for me, shadow isn't so easy."

She lifts a hand, holding it over the table. The shadows splaying across it darkern, then start to drip and scatter across the table, in plumes like dropped flour.

"I'm better at light." Her other hand is pulled up, and it outlines in shimmery silver hue, like pale moonlight. <Handspeech>

Glasha watches with great interest. She leans over and makes a snowball. Holding it up, she makes it glow. 'Simple light spell,' she says, verbally as the area around is illuminated like the snowball is a torch. 'I admit, this is a spell I imbued my cloak with.' She throws it at a pillar. It piffs, the light dispersing with the snow, slowly losing its light like a squished firefly. She signs, "I find it endlessly amusing to throw glow-balls." <handspeech>

Aryia watches the glowing snow, her lips quirking upwards in a smile. The shade and moonlight effects dissipate her following the toss. There's w near silent snicker that comes from the mute. "That is rather amusing, I will admit. What is it that you do? You specialize in anything <Handspeech>

Glasha nods. "I'm a conjurer," she signs. "I summon things. I also work a forge cart, make magic items, and general fix-all service. I've gotten decent business, lately." <handspeech>

Aryia scratches her head, trying to remember something she read, then makes a silent 'ah' sound. "Oh! Teleporting and stuff. How are you dealing with the summoning ban? I can't jump around like I used to in the city," Aryia signs dejectedly. <Handspeech>

Glasha shrugs. "I've got other magic," she says. "I also usually carry a big axe staff around. Luna likes to sit on top of it when I'm not in a fight." <handspeech>

Aryia cranes her head up to look at the axe staff, her blinking a few times. She points at it. "You uh, use it to axe things that need axing too? I've never seen a wizard get physical before. <Handspeech>

"You'd be surprised how often it's necessary," Glasha signs. She reaches up and tweaks the raven's beak on her shoulder. 'When your summons get mind controlled, sometimes all you have is your axe,' she says. <handspeech>

Aryia silently chuffs, putting a hand on her hip. "I can see that. There's been a lot of situations where just decking something in the face is the most simplest of solutions. That happen often? Summons getting controlled?" <Handspeech>

"No, but when it does, it's very inconvenient," Glasha signs. She lets out a sigh. "I've gotten less practice in the last few months. Forging cold-iron and silver weapons has become my life. It's also inconvenient." <handspeech>

Aryia rubs her neck a bit. "Ah. Yes... I had to buy some cold iron plated gloves a bit ago, for all the demon crap that used to go on. Well, hey, at least that stuff is over, and you won't have to be forging as much. More time for practice. If you're ever by the Colosseum and I'm training, feel free to ask for a moving target." The mute bounces on the balls of her feet as she motions the last bit. <Handspeech>

Glasha chuckles. "Thank you," she signs. 'Oh my,' she says aloud. She stands as well. 'It has truly been a pleasure,' she concludes, extending a hand. <handspeech>

Aryia doesn't sign anything further, her just reaching out to take the hand and shaking it with a firm grip. She smiles lightly and nods, gives a loose two finger salute, and heads on out.

-End Scene-