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Post by Wayland on Mar 12, 2021 16:50:19 GMT -8
She tried really hard not to make her Hollow look like where she lived in the Black Forest. She really did. And to some extent, she succeeded. She doesn’t fill the space like a hulking monster, looming in each room, too big to be real, too big to be safe, too immediate and in-your-face and threatening for any visitor to ever forget how close her grasping claws and sharp teeth were to their precious flesh. It’s bigger and more spread out than that, a nod to workplace safety that wasn’t an issue during her Durance, with a bare stone floor kept free of debris that might catch fire or trip someone carrying hot metal. And it has modern amenities, electricity and plumbing and modern tools, tools that cost tens of thousands of dollars in the real world. Not all of them work the same of course, the Hedge has its own way of doing things, but however it decides to maintain pressure and heat in an oven or provide clear lighting for her work benches, it always works as well as what she could get outside, if not better. That’s as much about her intent as anything else. She told the Hollow what she needed from her Workshop, and the Hollow complied. But sometimes the way the Hollow complied looks more like her old witch’s hutt than she’s comfortable with.
The roof is thatched. Despite the constant threat of fire a forge represents, it never seems to catch, though it is dark with smoke in places. Tiny goblins, hedge-pests, nest and hunt each other among it, sometimes stealing a tool that she has to then retrieve. She’s not sure where the fire in the main furnace comes from. Sometimes when she’s working the bellows, coaxing more heat, higher flame out of the blaze, it sounds like some great beast is breathing. The furniture is all lovingly hand-carved wood, often misshapen or asymmetrical, with upholstery already worn by age and use before it got there. There’s a cot in the back, stiff boards holding up a mattress stuffed with reeds, piled with knitted and crocheted blankets. There are tools in the workshop with no modern equivalents, that can do things the real world would consider impossible. But they’re familiar to her. She’s worked with them before, in a time she doesn’t want to remember. The anvil is still what she has the most mixed feelings about. Sometimes when she sees it, she’s reminded of another anvil, in another place. Sometimes she expects it to have a scar, from where she cleaved through it with a single stroke, a wound that for some reason she imagines has healed. For a while she had considered abandoning her trade, abandoning her skills and her training, so she would never have to face those experiences again. But no, she had decided. Fuck that. Fuck the fae. They don’t get to take her calling from her. They don’t get to take this part of her and warp it and twist it into something that’s not her’s any more. Blacksmithing is a part of her. A part she chose. The fae don’t get to take it away from her.
It’s a thought that brings her both energy and clarity when Wayland stands before the device, a hot ingot of metal held atop the anvil in a pair of pliers, while she raises a hammer and brings it down again and again onto the glowing-hot metal, throwing sparks with each strike. The ingot is formed from layers of different kinds of steel, which with heat and pressure she is hammering together. The ingot elongates with her effort, until only half of it is resting on the anvil, the rest protruding into the air. This she strikes, bending the ingot into an “L” shape, before turning it upward and striking again, bending the two halves back onto each other, and hammering the piece until they are welded to each other. This is pattern-steel, often erroneously referred to as Damascus steel. The blade she makes from this will be hard and tough, and acid etching will reveal beautiful patterns of dark and light steel all along the metal.
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Riley Sorsa
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Presence (3) Captivating | SL(1) Stylish Mantle (2)Spring | Status(1) Entertainment
Posts: 913
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Post by Riley Sorsa on Mar 12, 2021 18:02:27 GMT -8
"Waaaylaand" Came a sing-song voice from the front of the hollow quickly followed a second announcement.
"Wayland!" Riley called again trying to be heard of the ringing of metal on metal. The Twilight Dancer as they stood a the threshold. It was one thing to come unexpected, it was another to enter.
That evening Riley was wearing a button-up black shirt, a worn denim jacket, slacks. Their hair was pulled back in a bun. They had just gotten off from rehearsals and had made their way here. Under their arm was a wooden latched box.
With Ostara around the corner, it was time for a little tune-up.
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Post by Wayland on Mar 12, 2021 20:53:26 GMT -8
This is not really a place of refuge. Wayland knows that, no matter how safe and comfortable she wants to feel here. If it was really a bolthole, she wouldn't have told anybody where it is, let alone invited them in. But it's not. It's a place where she works, and that work involves the Freehold, and that means people will know where it is. Which means she'll have visitors. Which doesn't mean she's used to the idea of them coming around. At the sound of her voice, she looks up from her work, the goggles on her face making her look strange and alien. A few of the hedge-pests in the thatch take up the call, repeating her name imperfectly, getting stuck on syllables or intonations, squabbling with each other over who knows what as they sing. Looking up at them, Wayland taps her hammer on the anvil two times, with force, making a clear ringing sound each time, and the tiny goblins scatter, the noise of their chatter dying away. She shakes her head, returning the ingot to the furnace and setting her tools aside so she can go to the door. She pulls her gloves off, stuffing them in an apron pocket, and then pulls her goggles onto her forehead, blinking to adjust her eyes to the change in brightness. The door to the Hollow is made of thick planks bound in steel, inscribed with swirling characters not unlike the ones that adorn the Ogre's skin. There's a hatch there to look out upon visitors, and Wayland lifts it blinking, "Riley?" There's surprise in her voice. The hatch closes and a moment later she pulls open the door. Standing on the other side, Wayland smells of clean sweat, hot metal, and soot. Her skin is shiny with perspiration, as the band-T she's wearing under her leather blacksmithing apron, the sleeves rolled up to her shoulders. Similar leather chaps protect her legs, clad in jeans and work boots. "Shit, did I miss an appointment? I didn't think I was seeing anyone today," she explains, waving a hand to beckon the Darkling inside.
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Riley Sorsa
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Presence (3) Captivating | SL(1) Stylish Mantle (2)Spring | Status(1) Entertainment
Posts: 913
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Post by Riley Sorsa on Mar 13, 2021 6:49:21 GMT -8
"Evenin' " Riley nodded to Wayland with a polite smile. The Moth had always felt small in the presence of the Orge. But for some reason, Wayland always seemed even larger in the Hollow.
"Oh, Oh! Sorry" Riley had forgotten to call Wayland or even sent a text. With the Ostara preparations, show rehearsals, Firebringer, the time had just sort of...vanished. Well more so, than usual for the Darkling.
"Are you busy? I Brought my glove by, thought it could use a little love." They raised the box slightly. They glanced past Wayland into the Hollow, it was mostly as they remembered it. The heat and smell were familiar, but Riley couldn't tell if they brought discomfort or ease. The last times their visits had brought them here, it was painful. It had been sacrifice worth the effort, but none the less it left a distinct uncomfortable memory.
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Post by Wayland on Mar 13, 2021 14:47:31 GMT -8
"Nah, not too busy," she reassures the Darkling, closing the door and latching it behind them. It's almost always warm in the workshop, but the thatch roof is freestanding and the space beneath not fully enclosed, so a cool breeze can work it's way through the Hollow to keep it from becoming stuffy and suffocating.
"Sure thing, I'll take a look," she tells Riley with a small smile, holding out her hands until Riley passes over the box, then walking over towards a work bench with the unspoken expectation that the Bright One will follow along. "It's been a bit since I've seen you. How've you been?"
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Riley Sorsa
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Presence (3) Captivating | SL(1) Stylish Mantle (2)Spring | Status(1) Entertainment
Posts: 913
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Post by Riley Sorsa on Mar 13, 2021 15:01:32 GMT -8
“Glad to hear it. I think it just needs a shine, maybe the sockets need securing, the ring finger gets a little stuck” Chirped Riley as they followed behind. They watched their feet trying not to step on or trip over any thing, before they found a spot to lean against safely.
“Uh- Alot actually,” The last six months had been a whirlwind for the Spring Courtier. Lots of bad, lots of good. It was impossible to know where to start.
“Well I got a new job. No longer stripping- or not in the same capacity I guess. Doing burlesque full time, with the Zumanity show. Got a manager, Hartmann and he somehow fixed that up for me “ The bright ones light seemed to grow from within, as they talked about their work.
“And by some twist of the wyrd, I am helpin’ host Ostara. So thought the glove should look its best. Ya comin’? “
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Post by Wayland on Mar 13, 2021 15:49:09 GMT -8
The box is set gently upon the workbench, and Wayland pulls a light closer to it's surface. It would look like an ordinary work light on a flexible armature, in fact it's almost camouflaged just like one. But it's a flower, petals framing a glowing bulb hanging from a stiff but pliable vine. The Hedge is weird. As she listens to Riley talk, she opens the box, the light immediately catching on the intricate silver gauntlet cushioned within, the beautiful faceted gems throwing beams of light into the shadowy spaces nearby. Setting a soft cloth down on the work bench, Wayland's tarnished silver hands transfer it there from the box, as she examines the ornament under the light. At the question, her gaze rises from the glove to the Darkling. She goes through a bit of an internal check; she's never been the best at parties, but keeping her Court appearances to a minimum hasn't been working for her lately. And here's someone, an acquaintance she's on good terms with, not-quite inviting her. After a split second, a smile quirks her lips, one corner of her mouth rising higher than the other. "Wouldn't miss it," she assures Riley, projecting confidence for herself as much as the Darkling's sake. She pulls over a stool, sinking easily into it before the work bench, as she begins testing each stone's fitting with a finger, checking for any that may have come loose. "I've never really been part of hosting a Court event, other than being a general go-fer during set-up. How's planning coming along?"
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Riley Sorsa
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Presence (3) Captivating | SL(1) Stylish Mantle (2)Spring | Status(1) Entertainment
Posts: 913
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Post by Riley Sorsa on Mar 13, 2021 16:29:33 GMT -8
Riley paused to watch Wayland work, her silver hands moved with the practice of a professional. It always seemed to surprise the Darkling, that someone so a large, powerful, who forges and shapes metal, would have such a delicate touch. The thought brought back painful memories of the days they had spent in this workshop. They could almost still feel the pain slither across their spine, the old wounds ached. Riley pushed the memory aside. They had asked for it, and it was worth the sacrifice.
“Great! It’s going to be a blast.” The darkling flashed a smile. It would be interesting to see Wayland at a party, hard to imagine. Maybe she and Linden can hide in a corner.
“It’s going well. It’s a good team putting the party together.” The moth wouldn't go into to much detail, don't want to ruin the surprise of it all. The bewitched paused contemplating Waylands lack of involvement. Perhaps this last year was wise, given all that had happened. But Riley wasn't going to bring it up, don't want to scare the smith away.
“You been busy? With uh- all of this?” Riley gestured to the forge and tools.
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Post by Wayland on Mar 13, 2021 17:10:09 GMT -8
“Yeah, you could say so,” she replies to Riley, bent over the glove with the light pulled close. She’s found a few stones that have started to become loose in her settings, so she’s delicately working with a set of specialized pliers to adjust their fitting. This leaves her hunched over the table, body fairly still as she controls her movements to steady her hands. “We had the Estrella War a few weeks ago, a big SCA event for the local Kingdom. It lasts for a long weekend. It was a lot of fun, and a lot of business for me too. Gave me enough orders and enough interest to last me a while.” And she hadn’t seen anyone she knew from An Tir, the Kingdom she’d been a member of before her Durance. Which was all to the good.
“Plus, I always get a kick out of the battles,” she pauses, examining the gauntlet’s ring finger and noticing a little roughness, “Oh yeah. This has been catching on your clothes, hasn’t it? I can take care of that.” She pulls her goggles down over her eyes and reaches for the tools on her work bench, retrieving something that looks an operates a lot like a dremel with a grinding wheel, despite being made by the Hedge. “Watch your ears,” she advises, giving Riley a few seconds to prepare, before she spins up the wheel and applies it carefully to the gauntlet, smoothing out the area of wear and tear. The Hollow is briefly filled with the screech of the wheel on the metal, but after only a little while it ceases, Wayland pulling her goggles up again and inspecting her work.
“I imagine Ostara has a different dress code than the War. Is it formal? Should I bring anything?” She asks, reaching for a toothbrush and silver polish.
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Riley Sorsa
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Presence (3) Captivating | SL(1) Stylish Mantle (2)Spring | Status(1) Entertainment
Posts: 913
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Post by Riley Sorsa on Mar 14, 2021 6:46:44 GMT -8
"Sounds uh" They were not sure how it sounded to hang around in the heat, playing at medieval. It certainly was different from what they did for fun. Then again, they grew watching grown men pretended to be cowboys, so it wasn't that weird.
"Sounds like it's been keeping you busy. And been good" Riley offered.
"That seems about right" Riley chuckled at the Ogres comment that the gauntlet had been catching on clothes. Their head tilted to observe the work, before answering about the coming festivities.
"No dress code really, dress what makes you feel good I'd say, It's an all night party. Drinks, food, entertainment. Welcomin' the sun and all that "
Riley snapped their finger as they remembered n important part.
"Part of the ritual requires you bring a seed, Not literally, well it could be. But a metaphoric seed, something of you. "
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Post by Wayland on Mar 14, 2021 10:36:33 GMT -8
Her features sharpen in a small frown for a moment as she thought of what she might wear. She used to have help making decisions like that. Before she landed in Las Vegas. The thought carries a familiar heartache, but the snapping of Riley's fingers jars her out of it, and she looks up at the Darkling, relieved to be thinking about something else.
"A seed of me?" She repeats, pondering for a moment, then looking back towards the furnace to which she had returned the ingot of pattern-welded steel. Red hot potential waiting to be shaped between her hammer and anvil. A smile curls her lips, "Yeah, I can manage that."
She twists back around in her stool to face her work bench again, then glances up at Riley. "This next part goes faster if you're not watching," she explains, then uses the tooth brush in her hand to point across the Hollow, where Riley might remember that there's an ice box where Wayland keeps her beverages. "Help yourself to a drink, if you want one. Shouldn't be more than a couple minutes."
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Riley Sorsa
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Presence (3) Captivating | SL(1) Stylish Mantle (2)Spring | Status(1) Entertainment
Posts: 913
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Post by Riley Sorsa on Mar 14, 2021 13:25:25 GMT -8
“Oh? Oh yeah, sure!” Riley moved upright from the spot they had found to lean against.
“Thanks by the way,” The moth gave a soft smile before moving to where Wayland directed them.
The darkling to a moment to examine the area, noticing what ad changed or what had remained the same. They fluttered over to where the drinks were, taking a small tumbler and a little bit of whiskey neat. Riley only now was starting to feel the burn of todays rehearsals, the whiskey was a welcome escape. Finding a new place to sit the Moth lingered there in thought as they listened to the work happening in the next room.
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Post by Wayland on Mar 14, 2021 14:10:25 GMT -8
Returning Riley's smile when the moth offers their thanks, Wayland's attention quickly falls back to her work bench. The gauntlet sits there, still shining and beautiful, but the wear becomes more noticeable to her, and what she must do more obvious. There are some arts that only remain arts if thy remain secret. As if the act of observing them renders them inert and mundane. Nobody needs to see how the sausage gets made, they just need it to be delicious. Riley doesn't need to know exactly what Wayland does to repair their glove. Only that she repairs it.
She reaches over and punches the button on an old, beat-up boombox. The CD it's playing must've been here in the Hedge for a while. That sure sounds like Black Sabbath, but Ozzie never recorded a song with these lyrics. The minutes tick by. A few of the tiny hedge-creatures living in the thatch roof, most no bigger than an agate stone, start to creep out of hiding. To forage for who-knows-what or hunt each other in the semi-darkness of the Hollow's ceiling. The furnace continues it's gentle background roar as it smelts the pattern-steel together.
Still, as Wayland promised, Riley doesn't have to wait long. A few songs into the CD, the blacksmith appears once again, carrying Riley's box, the smile of a job well done curling her lips. She crosses the space and holds it out to them, "Here, try it on. Make sure everything still fits and moves like it's supposed to."
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Riley Sorsa
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Presence (3) Captivating | SL(1) Stylish Mantle (2)Spring | Status(1) Entertainment
Posts: 913
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Post by Riley Sorsa on Mar 14, 2021 19:41:29 GMT -8
The bewitched put down their drink and stood up with excited energy. Their black eyes looked over the gleaming hedgespun, taking in it’s new shine. With a swift, practiced motion, they slipped their hand into the jeweled hand adornment. Their fingers gracefully rolled in a small wave, the metal seeming to chime with the subtle touches.
“The fingers feel good” they comment, splaying their hand open to check its mobility. Raising their hand up they snapped their thumb and middle finger, letting out a clear bell like chime. They didn't use the glamour to call upon the gloves utility, but seemed satisfied just with the sound.
“It looks great, definitely going to help make an impression” The bright one seemed to beam, their glow shimmered off the silver glove.
“I am glad to hear you will be comin’ by the way. What's your favorite beer or drink?”
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Post by Wayland on Mar 14, 2021 20:22:15 GMT -8
Riley's excitement is infectious. More than worth taking some time out of Wayland's day to give the gauntlet a tune-up. A smile curls her lips as she watches the Darkling, her eyes focusing on the way the gauntlet moves, watching for any catches or hesitations while they test it out. The snapping fingers seem to satisfy any possible doubts, and Wayland nods to herself, satisfied with her work, and reaches into the ice box for a glass bottle of Coke. Her silver fingers deform slightly as she forces the cap off without a bottle opener, the contents cold enough to waft a thin mist into the air as Wayland turns to lean her hips against a nearby table, facing her visitor.
"I'm not that picky," she assures the Bright One, "Long as there's beer or whiskey or vodka, I'll be set. Wouldn't mind if there was a jar of pickles behind the bar, though." She raises the bottle to her lips and tips it back, taking a long pull, then lowers it with a refreshed sigh. Then she gestures with the glass towards Riley's beverage, "What about you? I see you went straight for the whiskey. That your go-to?"
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