driftfleet | [Open Moons Mingle Log]

[Nunnally still has quite a keen sense of hearing, thanks to her past. So she overhears bits and pieces of his conversation. Poor man... her eyebrows knit slightly in concern as he walks away from the conversation, dejected. After a moment of consideration she drives her wheelchair towards him, the slight whir of its motor giving away her presence before she actually speaks to him]

Excuse me?

[just a very generic greeting to start with]

[ He wants to do something useful. Something beyond just staying on the ship and cleaning up and putting gel paste into little cubes. And to earn any money, he has to do what he's good at, and that's working metal. He can even cold-work it, make beautiful pieces, depending on the substance. But he needs materials first.

A sigh.

He looks up to the hum of the motor, and to the greeting. ]

Yes? [ Hint of hope in his eyes. ]

[she folds her hands in her lap and smiles at him]

I couldn't help but overhear, it sounds as if you were having trouble with that shop owner?

[she doesn't want to admit that she overheard most of the conversation upfront, she doesn't want to seem rude, or nosy]

[ A shake of his head; he demurs. ] No trouble. He just didn't want to have me work on his materials without a sample. That's fair.

[ One of the reasons he's having trouble arguing with it. He never had to do this before; his clan took care of the expenses as he undertook his training, and from there he paid for himself. ]

[she looks thoughtful]

Would it be possible for someone else to purchase time at the forge for you? Perhaps they could pretend to be an investor, or a patron?

[and by they she means her]

Materials and time.

[ A bite of his lip. He doesn't usually take gifts from women, ever. But it might be important enough, to start him off. ]

I don't like to take gifts unless I know what's expected in return. [ Firm, but a little - flinching, almost. Like he expects anger, perhaps, at that response. ]

Ah... [hm, she doesn't look angry, more bemused and a bit caught off guard. It's a very honest way to accept a gift, so she wants to respond in kind. When she decides what she wants to say, she sits up a little straighter in her chair]

The fact that we are paid well when we experience trouble or grief for the benefit of our audience troubles me deeply. I would... I am not proud of this money, or the way that it is obtained. I would like to see it go towards something honest, something good. So in return, I ask that you forge your hearts desires, and create something that will be used to help others.

[whatever his interpretation of that may be]

[ It's perhaps the best response he could have hoped for, and one of the sadder responses too. He hasn't been made to really suffer, not yet; it's disorienting and frightening, but no one has hurt his daughters, and when that is true, he'll be fine.

He nods, slowly. ]

Thank you.

In that case, I accept.

...though it won't be my heart's desire. It'll be something to sell. [ With a hint of a smile, at this last bit. ]

[hehe, she can't help but return a small smile at his joke. She nods]

Mm, perhaps I phrased it a little too dramatically.

[but! she's happy that he's willing to go along with it, and she looks at the shop. Hmm, she's a bit rusty, she wonders if she can put on the appropriate aura of gravitas again. She lifts her head slightly, pushes her shoulders back, and pats down out any stray hairs that are out of place.]

Are you ready to give it a shot?

[ A nod. ] Of course.

[ In fact, he doesn't want to delay. ]

[whew, she takes a deep breath in and leads the way inside. AND THEN TIME SKIP HAPPENS!!!]

[ It's later that he finds himself in a tavern, catching a meal. He's done enough to earn a little money, enough to start tomorrow stronger; he has a sheet of copper in front of him, and he's cold-working it, drawing tools along it, creating dents, lines and curves, slowly resolving themselves into images. He pauses every few moments to take a bite of the meal he's purchased. ]

[Nunnally enters the tavern, and looks around. She's curious how it went after they parted ways, and was hoping to see him somewhere about.. Ah! And pleasantly surprised to see him working. She drives her chair closer and looks at his work for a moment before she comes close enough to speak]

Hello again. [but, she doesn't want to knock him out of his groove...] Am I interrupting?

[ A glance up to her. It takes him a moment to focus, and recognize her, so caught up he was in his work, but once he does it's a smile that breaks over his face. ] No - I should rest. [ He might strain his hands at this rate. He puts down the slim tool he's been using for details, and opens and closes his fingers, working his tired hands.

He turns the copper over, to view it from the front, and not the back where he's been pressing the metal.

It's oddly beautiful, but not in the way one might expect; it's not a beautiful tree, it's not a beautiful moon. There's something a little sharp and jagged about the way the tree grows, and something about the moon that slices through what would otherwise have been a unified image. It's beautiful as a whole, though unfinished. ]

[without meaning too, she says 'ah' slightly, obviously impressed]

It's beautiful. [she glances back at him to say that, then looks back at his piece] Do you specialize in metal artwork?

Metalworking. I was a blacksmith, but I learned to cold-work too.

[ah, so not really his specialty, but still...]

It's lovely... [she smiles fondly as she looks at it] Is it supposed to be any particular place?

There are a lot of forests, on the island I come from. But I don't know that the trees grow... jagged.

[ He's actually a little disappointed in the sketch. It's more what he was feeling than what he intended. ]

[hmmm, she observes it, thinking specifically about the jagged-ness]

But I like that change, it makes the moon seem even more serene by comparison.

[she laughs sheepishly] But, I cannot pretend to be any critic of art.

Nor can I.

I spent most of my time on swords.

[ He admits it a little shyly, like it's something a bit unusual for a man - which it is. ]

[she looks a touch confused, not quite sure what reason he would have to be embarrassed of such a profession. Her mind automatically jumps to the profession of a blacksmith. Perhaps it is a lowly rank in his world?]

That is a noble profession. My world did not have many swords, but the ones that I did see were their own kind of art. It's nothing to be embarrassed of.

What did it have instead?

[ The sort of gentle curiosity that comes when starting a real conversation. ]

Warfare is fought with guns, for the most part. [she considers explaining giant mechs, but she's pretty sure she wouldn't explain it well]

Edited 2015-02-08 05:36 (UTC)

[ ...oh. That was probably obvious. ]

It must change things. Guns can deal death so much more quickly.

It does. [war is a topic that she takes quite seriously] War is-- a truly dreadful thing. While I understand it's necessity... So many people are killed.

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