PROBLEM SOLVERS | Days 7-9

[brassandblood]

Scenario A - The Dining Hall

[ You may find the forge - now called Ember - around here quite a lot over the days following the vines' retreat. She's often pacing around the huge table on the floor, looking at its structure carefully; or scaling it, taking measurements and examining the table's edge; or sometimes using her power over metal to peel away large strips from the giant dinner plates set out for the residents. She's obviously busy, but she'll stop to talk if anyone cares to ask what she's up to. ]

Scenario B - The Hearth Room

[ Ember is often laboring away over her possession-body, using its heat to help craft the metal she's brought back from the dining hall as she'd like without having to use up so much of her magic to do it. She may be twining together long, sturdy cables of metal rope, or molding small chunks of metal into pulleys, or crafting rods into sharp and durable nails, or bending long strips of metal into a wire frame. When she's working so hard, she could probably use a reminder to take a break and rest sometimes. ]

Comments

[brassandblood]

[ So he's still twitchy about her. She can't blame him for that, but she draws the line at letting his nervousness put him in danger. ]

It'll hold your weight just fine. I already tested it out myself. You look like you're about to fall down there.

[ironspirit]

I'm okay, really. [What if he cuts it with his fingers trying to get a good grip? Or she can't actually hold his weight and drops him? Or she uses her steel-melting powers to control it like some kind of steel cable snake tamer, tangling him up in a vicious steel trap and slowly squeezing the life out of him as he's held helplessly over the floor below?] I've got this.

[He hasn't actually moved at all since she called to him. He's not sure if he can keep going.]

[brassandblood]

Look, I swear I'm not going to hurt you, all right? It was an accident before, and I'm very sorry about that, but I really don't want you to fall and hurt yourself just because you refuse to accept help if it's from the wrong person.

[ironspirit]

[He looks down, pressing his faces against the leg. He's scared, but it's stupid, and he feels ashamed for feeling scared for a stupid reason. He knows the forge never meant him any harm, but no matter how many times he reminds himself of that, he can't shake the feeling. She's just... scary.

He's wary of accepting her help again, but... he's not a coward. His sister isn't a coward, so he can't be one, either.

He eyes the cable in front of him.]

... If I fall to my death, it'll be your fault. I'll haunt you.

[brassandblood]

If that happens, I'll have earned it. Since I don't much want to be haunted, I'll do my best not to drop you.

[ She smiles a little, bracing herself for the expected added weight. Good thing she's got a smith's muscles - pulling him up should be no problem. ]

[ironspirit]

[He eyes the cable a little longer, but eventually his determination to be brave wins out. He pulls an arm out of the wood carefully, reaching for the cable. It takes a bit of awkward manoeuvring, but he manages to move himself onto it without falling to his death.]

[brassandblood]

All right, hang on.

[ Ember grits her teeth and starts pulling. The metal doesn't chafe her skin, so all she has to worry about is his weight. It's manageable at least. Higher and higher she pulls, until finally he can heave himself up over the edge. ]

There you go.

[ironspirit]

[He continues not to fall to his death for the whole ride, thankfully. When he's pulled up to the edge he jabs the ends of his fingers into the surface, scraping back a bit of wood as he shakily pulls himself all the way up. It's not easy, even from right at the edge, and he doubts he could've made it if he'd insisted on doing it alone. His body is already aching from making only half the trip.

Once all of him is up there, he slowly gets back to his feet. He meets her eyes only briefly before he starts feeling uncomfortable again, gripping his arm and looking slightly off to the side.]

Thanks.

[brassandblood]

No problem. I can help you get down, too, if you need it.

[ Boy this sure is awkward. ]

So, you ended up sick after the mudpit too?

[ Real awkward. ]

[ironspirit]

Um, I guess...

[He attempts to clear throat and ends up in a minor coughing fit. He hacks up rust all over his hand for a solid ten seconds.

Super awkward.]

... How's the hearth doing?

[brassandblood]

[ WELL UM. gosh. ]

Well, he's better, at least. He doesn't have his strength back yet, but I let him spend the night in my body to heat up.

[ And he's recovered enough to flip his shit now. MIXED BLESSINGS. ]

...Have you tried anything to treat that? It looks painful.

[ironspirit]

That's good! [He smiles, still a little nervous, but that's something he can genuinely be happy about.] He looked really terrible before...

Uh, yeah. A little. [Which is to say, he was dumped in some vinegar for awhile but it was gross and stingy so he refused to stay in there long enough to remove it all. There was an attempt? The cough hasn't improved much at all, but he looks better than he did on arrival, at least.] It's not that bad, I'll get over it.

[brassandblood]

Yes, I saw. I was worried, but sleeping in hot coals seems to have done him some good. [ She smiles back. Even if they're awkward with everything else, concern for the hearth is at least common - and safe - ground for conversation. ]

...Rust doesn't go away on its own, you know. You look worse off than the hearth does right now, to be honest.

[ironspirit]

[He stares down at the 'floor', feeling a little embarrassed now in addition to uncomfortable. He hates being rusty like this, but being stuck in a vinegar bath seems humiliating, and he doesn't want anyone to think he's whiny for complaining about it, either.

So the only decent solution is denial. Denial and lots of lying.

He shrugs dismissively.] It doesn't hurt that bad... I'll deal with it later.

[brassandblood]

[ Frown. Frown!!! She sees right through you, mister. ]

There's no need to tough it out. I know you probably don't want me to try using my power, after what happened before, but I can at least make you a metal wire brush to scrub it off.

[ironspirit]

[The fact that she sees through him only makes him bristle up defensively. He straightens himself out, finally meeting her eyes again so he can give her the huffiest of looks.]

It doesn't have anything to do with that! I don't need anyone's help, I can take care of it myself. It's just a bit of r-ruh—

[aaaaaaaaaand cue another coughing fit

at least he tried]

[brassandblood]

[ SIGH. She shaves a small piece of metal off one of the slabs she's carrying, re-forming it into a metal wool brush and offering it to him. ]

Here. This should help with scraping it off.

[knightwinged]

[ and before the sword gets the chance to try any other smart ideas, a large shadow falls over them both. ]

You. [ the raven hisses, voice acrid. ]

I leave you alone for five minutes and... [ The rest of the sentence gets lost in the mess of agitated clicks and whistles he descends into before he gathers himself together again. ]

Do you have anything to say for yourself?

[ Also hello forge he notices you there but will abstain from acknowledging you for a moment to just. Loom. Yes. His usual aura of offputtingness might be a little more prominent than normal right now, though. ]

[ironspirit]

[He's still coughing and glaring the the forge, probably about to tell her off again for daring to help, when suddenly raven.

He finally wins the fight with his itchy throat. Now it's time to direct huffy looks at his good pal Gloom Bird. He can only be thankful for the excuse to ignore the forge and her brush offering.]

What the hell is that for? It's not like I wrecked anything. [Apologize for being rude to the forge?? pshh nah he doesn't need to do that.]

[knightwinged]

Other than maybe yourself, so yes, there's at least that much. [ Is the wry retort, but he's already settling down on the rim of a nearby wineglass. ] You realize that if you don't want to be pitied, the surest way to do so is to not look like you require it. [ hint hint

before he finally turns his head toward Ember and gives her a curt, but cordial, nod. Still that's all she gets for the time being as he returns most his attention to staring down the sword. ]

[ironspirit]

[His face glows a dim but distinct red, along with the rest of him. At least he still hasn't recovered enough to start any sass-fueled fires.]

Why don't you mind your own business, you oversized chicken! And stop following me around!

[Finally, he accepts Ember's gift, though in an incredibly rude manner since he literally just snatches it out of her hand without warning. But hey, at least he took it, right? It's like he almost trusts her now!

And then he throws it at the bird.]

[brassandblood]

[ Oh, you are in trouble, mister. Ember smacks the back of his hand with a strip of metal, heated so it stings a little. ]

That was for your rust problem, not for throwing. If you do that again I'll hold you down and scrub it all off myself.

[ She looks up to the bird, nodding back to him. ]

I take it you're his guardian, then, the same way the crab boy is for the hearth?

[knightwinged]

[ Wow, for a sick kid his aim's surprisingly good.

Too bad it still misses anyway as the raven grips a little more tightly onto the rim of the glass then just leaaaans back to watch it sail overhead and land in the liquid behind him. The splash is actually somewhat impressive but it doesn't bother him really. It's almost like he's conveniently waterproof or something. Oh, wait.

He rights himself and casually combs through a few of the feathers on his back before responding. ]

Something like that, I suppose. Lady knows why. [ There's a message in the way his eyes flash dangerously at the forge, though: no mentioning Mason. ] You've been doing well since we last met, I hope?

[ironspirit]

[The flinch when she smacks him is extremely apparent. He recoils a little, grabbing his hand defensively like it burned him. It didn't actually, because he's still fireproof, but the sensation of heat from the forge is enough to make him jumpy.

He grumbles something that might have been a "sorry".]

I'm not a kid, I don't need a guardian. [He feels this needs to be said.]