Shopping for Pewter; Contemplating Teeth

Dyo 19
81378
Midday

o o c: Esper is in her bipedal form. The tooth jewelery thing was something I saw a Swedish exchange student wearing; seemed so Esper I had to add it in.

i c: The day was overcast, blanketed in a sort of yellow-gray cloud-cover that hung over everything. A glittering, dew-drenched morning had soon given way to heat and darker shadows. The temperature was quite hot; the humidity didn't improve things. Esper Avalon, strutting along in a pair of torn, draw-string-tied canvas pants and a thin blue muscle tee, wasn't particularly looking forward to working at her forge that afternoon. You've wanted to make that necklace for so many days, the femme reminded herself. Don't be a pegthes about the heat. The female had just bartered several hand-made rugs (scratchy affairs woven by a long-lost cousin not bestowed with the Argent female silvercraft) in a little forgeshop downtown, and in return recieved two moderate-sized bars of fine Ramathian Pewter, which now held residence in her leather satchel.

Esper's fur rippled with magenta shadows, though in full light it was hot, violent pink, with tiger's stripes bleached down her ribs. Her small chest was compensated for by her punky, viciously feminine posture, and the way she cavorted through the streets, her arms glimmering with bangles of every type, showed she clearly held herself in the highest esteem. As the colorful 'dragon walked along, she absent-mindedly reached up a gold-striped claw (of modest size but filed to a razor-point) to tap one fang. Cemented upon it was one delicate golden heart. It held no purpose except to glitter when the female flashed one of her edgy, fleeting smiles. She rather enjoyed her new ornamentation; it had been the first in a while which hadn't hurt rather badly. In a rare moment of self-doubt, she thought, Why'd I decorate my teeth, anyway? but soon the musing flickered away, leaving her contemplating why pendragons even had teeth; they only ever brawled and ate anyway, but then that got her thinking that if she hadn't got her teeth, she wouldn't be very well-endowed in battle, and that was simply something that 'Sper hadn't ever known. As she was wrapped up in her latest train of thought (a reminder to herself to buy some more bleach), her worn old combat boots twisted on a chink in the stone road, and she went sprawling upon the cobbles. Her bag fell open, sending two roughly hewn pewter bars clattering away. "Vokc!" she cursed aloud, and scrabbled 'till she stood upright again. Hurriedly, she snatched up her bag and dashed to the bars, picking them up as if they were the two finest-cut pieces of precious metal on Ramath-Lehi.

That was one thing 'Sper had a soft spot for: her metalwork. Her necklace, a choker of pure pewter with a hinged, double-pronged clasp, set with moonstones, had been tossing and turning inside her head for a long time, making her hands itch to feel the scratch of leather and her nose twitch to smell the hot metallic sheen of a scent. Her jewelery was very important. Without it, the cocky femme would probably feel more naked than she would without clothing, which was just a mark of her personality...

With a twitch of her coyote nose, she was on her way, trotting now towards her house. Her feet sweated in her boots, and she looked forward to a cold snappy drink and an afternoon at the forge. She payed no heed to her hunger. That necklace just had to be made.

 

'Sper trotted along the cobbles, quicker now, as she rounded the bend. The buds on the trees had finally begun to open out, and though the air was stifling, dewdrops still dripped freshly from the crinkly, pale green leaves. Esper cocked smart, fur-tipped ears and lept up to catch a falling water droplet. As she hung there, suspended in that moment of childish bliss, her humanoid form elongated slightly, and for a split second she was a coyote, blurred in quadrupedal form. As she landed, she bounded a few strides on lupine toes; in one moment she snapped up to bipedal form again, and wriggled nimble 'gits happily. This was what set Esper apart from all others. This combination of equal parts femininity, grace, and aggression. There were many stronger than her, several faster than her, and few more cunning. But nobody had what matched the gritty joie de vivre that the femme posessed.

As the female moved along, her house came into view. It was a small place, originally a cave. Esper figured it probably still could be called one, but it was leveled and carved into a modernistic cube with edges that curved out slightly. Only the door was wood, chipped red driftwood as it were, and the knob was bronze. It had an eye carved into it. Esper had made the door and the knob, but her mother's half-sister had left the cave to her mother, and after Avalon had been taken by the graders, 'Sper moved away from her old home and to this little place.

As she walked, she saw that a huge, bloodied shape had just descended from the sky. The large femme pendragon was dripping blue flames like oil, and her pawprints left red splotches. God knows what her story is, thought Esper with mild interest. But mild interest soon shifted to caution, and then disbelief, as the figure moved closer to her home. Her suspicions were confirmed when the she-dragon put a paw to the door. A small wet click resounded to the Lady of Avalon's ears, and she knew the other female had somehow melted her lock. The slightly thicker fur above Esper's eyes, which one might call eyebrows, raised dramatically. The female's voice cut through the hot, damp air, like a knife. "Uhm. What. The vokc. Are you doing."

 

Gasping and choking, the neon-furred femme felt herself be lifted off the ground. She had dashed into her home just a second ago, and hadn't even said another word to the fire-fleshed she-beast before her, when some bizarre telekinesis reared its ugly head. The femme kicked and hissed, lashing out savagely with her sharpened claws. They had just a moment ago been a fashion accessory; now they were a deadly weapon.

HOWever, it's not as if they did anything to stop the magic which now suspended Esper. What was anger and surprise now became pure seething rage as the creature carelessly dumped the bag upon the ground. When Esper's precious pewter blocks went skittering along the ground, the femme screeched her dismay and thrashed wildly. Her spine curved, but to no avail; she was still floating above her soft white carpet. Little clawed toes wiggled a few inches above their mark; a strangled noise of fury escaped her throat. When the ghastly femme started towards the metal, she strained her toes above the ground. Her toned muscles shifted beneath her body, but try as she might, she couldn't get loose.

Suddenly the ice-vise that had held her there, an insect in a block of amber, melted away, leaving Esper in a heap. The highly furious femme gasped. "Stoppit! Get away!" Leaping up and drawing a boning knife from her cargoes in one smooth motion, she yelled, "Get OUT of my house, reskh!" Her fingers tightened on the knife. When the other femme asked her services to repair the bracer, she just yelled louder. "If you PUT DOWN MY PEWTER, then maybe I'll POSSiBLY THiNK about helping you!" She sat there, brooding, hunched, as the femme looked her over.

 

It was all a bit much for Esper, having a large and unwelcome stranger melt the lock, storm through her house, and then lift 'Sper in a chokehold, all because the other wanted to repair a bracer. What a drama queen, thought Esper spittily. The femme shook her head a few times, and then traced a pattern into the rug (where she had flopped down to. It was checkered with four very large black-and-white squares.) with one claw. Her guard was definitely up. Anger ran in little rivers through her movements, through her speech. "You know what?" She said in a highly annoyed voice. "I have another project to work on. Come back sometime later, and maybe I'll fix that for you," the Lady of Avalon hissed. At that moment, she brought her head up and looked directly and cruelly into her attacker's eyes. Her own golden orbs, bronze in this light, widened slightly, and her slitted pupil narrowed to the barest of lines. Now that she could get a good look at the female before her, her heart leapt, and she fought not to let any sign of her shock show through. She kept her eyes level and still. But Esper's not a warrior; she's a jewelery maker, and a warrior's hardness was something the femme wished she posessed. For a truely off-putting creature stood before her, smudged with blood, with a dizzyingly, langurously rolling pelt of flesh and blue fire. After Esper got over this initial shock, she surveyed this femme with a grain of salt. She really is all for the drama. Four arms was a bit rich, anyway. But there was some wisdom in those golden eyes that intrigued Esper, and she wanted to know who this female was and where she came from.

Esper squinted at the large pendragon. "Who are you? Where are you from?" 'Sper showed a few small, wickedly spike'd teeth in a little smile. "You sure as vokc don't seem to be from around here." She cleared her throat. "At all."

 

Esper gritted her teeth, hackles prickling. Her somewhat easily-provoked temper burnt through the pit of her stomach, and a low alto growl seethed between her fangs. She dug her claws harder into the carpet, leaving little indentations in the modernistic flooring.

Deciding to ignore the rather sketchy-seeming (not to mention delicate-sounding) history of the femme before her, Esper arched her back slighly and said, "No shit the people of this town find it difficult to let you in. Your people skills are--" The femme stopped, shaking her head violently. "Sucky." This blunt statement was followed by Esper sitting up, and then standing. "And as I'm the one who's doing the work, not you... Why don't you do as I ask and leave, mmkay? The last was followed by a stabbing gesture of one claw, which caused each and every bangle on her arm to jingle and clink. Then, she was silent for a moment. Esper's current anger melted suddenly, and she seemed almost abashed-- no, abashed was the wrong word. She seemed almost regretful that she hadn't introduced herself. Though 'Sper was spitfiry, she also had a kind side. The hot-pink female rolled her amber eyes, saying, "Sorry, I didn't say who I was." She looked at Kyofu directly, saying, "Call me Esper. I'm daughter of Avalon Shiidraken." A sparkling spike of annoyance bubbled up again, and she chided, "Call me Avalon, 'kay, because it pisses me off like whoa when people I don't even know say I'm Esper." Actually, it didn't really piss her off, but Kyofu in general had so far, so she decided not to get too warm and fuzzy so fast.

The fuchia-washed pendragon stared bluntly at Kyofu for a time. Then, she strode over to the edge of the couch and plucked up her two pieces of pewter, taking them in her arms for a moment and needlessly inspecting them for dirt and chips. With a frown, she placed the bits of metal deep in the pockets of the string-tied cargoes. As if briefly fighting some internal debate, she turned again to the flame-dripping female.

"So, you gonna leave, femme fatale?" she said. "Don't lock the door; you've melted it," she spat as an afterthought, staring a challenge at the intruder.

 

The violently coloured femme pushed up her linen pants a touch, then cocked her head temperamentally and said, "Er. Yes. I sort of would object." The femme's roughly-spiked hackles were little needles behind her head. "Look, Kyofu... Nothing against you, or anything, because I don't even freakin' know you. But you sort of DID melt my lock, and--" Esper's protests were stifled by the cold femme dragon just randomly cavorting over to the doorknob, laying a hand on it, and restoring what had just been lost. After a moment of apparent surprise, the Lady of Avalon snorted, though the expression of harsh dismay faded somewhat from her face. Her amber eyes softened a bit. "Thanks for that," she remarked. The female's golden orbs shifted to the ground, and she contemplated the fate of her peaceful plans for the afternoon.

"So you've miraculously crossed over to my good side," Esper thought aloud. She raised her face to stare matter-of-factly into Kyofu's."Mm. Sure. If you really want to stay, I'll do your bracer. But I don't know why you wouldn't be able to do it yourself after" --she nodded towards the newly gleaming lockmetal-- "that little spectacle. Whatever. So, sit down--" She began, and then threw her hands up. "Like you need an invitation." Esper certainly didn't need one.

Striding over to the table, she picked up the armpiece and surveyed it briefly. Without even realizing it, her fingers began to walk playfully along the metallic surface, playing and handling her favourite element. She tapped it gently with a claw for a moment, then announced, "Steel with gold-alloy detailing. I could make you a sort of functional rough-draft, with just steel or maybe even just some scrap metal soldered to the break... Or I could replace the steel. And even try to replicate the working. Whatever floats your pickle. But the more you want (and believe me, I wish for your sake it wasn't this way), the more I get." She paused, hands on hips, and looked at the strange pendragon in her living room. It was a bit crazy, but then, that's the way Esper operated. "So what's it gonna be? Oh, and would you like something to drink...?"

 

Esper sighed, and nodded. "Well. It really does depend on what you're gonna use it for. If you want a long-lasting thing, you might want me to patch it with pure steel. But then, if you just need it for a battle or something, then I could slap some alloy, or whatever, onto the break. If you really want me to wing it, though, I will."

With this, she lashed her bone-tipped tail and trotted through the living room, past the mismatched sofa and loveseat, and into the very small kitchen. She opened the refridgerator, causing leftover fried fish to fall out onto her floor. Cursing to herself, she picked up the plastic-wrapped, soggy stuff and hucked it smartly back in, and swore again, louder this time, as it broke an egg in the back of the fridge.

Esper's refridgerator was, unsurprisingly, full to the top with food both fine and junky. Most was leftover from eating out and cooking in, and included risotto, hamburger, and Salisbury steak. A few raw bacon bits sat in an uncovered bowl in the corner by a box of take-out pizza. As if remembering something, Esper stepped back a bit, her amber eyes widening. "Oh, shit. Hold on, Kyofu, hold on," she said, waving long arms slightly. "I have to feed Telbaj." She stood on tiptoe, as if a delighted niotie. Pursing her lips tightly, she whistled a single note. Though ragged, it was clear and cool, a high D. From Esper's open study door trotted a small bird. Its legs were pale yellow, and its chest was a smooth gray. A band of black centered around its neck and spread down its wingbones, to the tips of its flight feathers, streaking black through his wings. As it spread said wings, one would note that the appendages were quite large for the birds body, signifying fast, steady flight despite the avian's small size.

Upon seeing Esper, the little bird let a small squeak of recognition out of its jagged mouth. The she-dragon smiled, holding out her hand at waist-height. Without hesitation, the Varsinid arced its wings and fluttered them quickly, coming up to land gracefully on the edge of Esper's hand, its small delicate feet balancing easily. Quickly, 'Sper picked up a bite of the meat and held it carefully with her claws. Eagerly, the little bird grabbed it, and soon the small bowl's contents had dissapeared. Smiling, the femme put the vessel back and tossed the bird off her hand. The Varsinid landed again on her bare shoulder, and she then left her there, going about her business. She began to rummage in the icebox once more, and soon a frown furrowed her brow.

"Hey, Kyofu... the only thing I have is iced Djam Rajji tea. Not wine, or anything. Is that okay? It really does rock ass, though, if I don't say so myself. My tea's pretty good." Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed a tumbler from the cupboard of mismatched glasses and then opened the freezer. Grabbing a few cool bits of chunked ice, she tossed them in and then drowned them in bittersweet Djam tea. Then she repeated the process for herself.

Walking back through the door into her living room, she came to the couch and handed Kyofu a glass of the pale yellow-green nectar. The glass had already begun to condensate, and beads of moisture rolled off it onto Kyofu's vaguely desert-like garb, where they beaded for a moment before sinking into the fabric. "Anything else...?" said Esper, letting Telbaj run down her arm and onto her waiting hand. "Or else I'll retire to the forge with--" she picked up the bracer in hot-pink, black-padded digits "--this."

 

"Reconstruct the en--" she began. "Well, sure, if you pay me with something good," the femme said playfully, and tossed the broken bracer, with its chewed-up, broken edges, back and forth between her leather palms. "How's the tea?" she asked, and nudged her shoulder. Telbaj fluttered large wings and skimmed gracefully down the length of Esper's naked arm to her hand, where the little bird settled, cocking her head smartly. The femme, in her wifebeater shirt and long pants, was sweating, and she knew she'd be sweating more when she was in her hot smithy. So she took several long sips of tea, and the bitter pop brightened her spirits.

When Kyofu asked to work with Esp in the forge, the hot pink female was more than a little apprehensive. "Uh... I don't really think so. It's sort of a difficult process, and it's a small room..." She stopped. The blistering heat and skin-burning light of the room would surely take its toll on the femme anyhow. With a devious flick of her tail, Esper said, "Well... If you'd really like to, then sure. If you can keep up!" The last was added as an afterthought, as she tossed Telbaj off her wrist and jogged through her tiny house, though the kitchen. Then she opened the heavy red door to her hallway, where she left claw-dents in the thick hot-pink carpet. Trotting past the door to her bedroom and the bathroom that was attached, she came across the tempered wood door to her smithy, and turned the heatproof, ceramic doorknob, letting herself in.

The room, for the moment, was pleasently cool. It was the one room in which the decor wasn't completely unique and modern. A functional, timeless look was recurrant throughout the workspace, including a plain stone floor, a few tempered-wood benches, and plenty of storage carved right into the wall. The forge, a large, hulking, cast-iron affair with plenty of pipes and forges leading out and into it, was the centerpiece to the room, and Esper's gaze immediately fell lovingly upon the structure. Her look swept gently over the metal curves, and then fleeted to the anvils. Seeing everything in order, Esper ran to the wall to the left of the door, and pulled a huge pair of thick, leather gloves from it. Then she went to the storage area, and ducked her head inside the wall compartments. Numerous clinkings and scrapings of metal bars against stone drifted out from the guts of the carved-out compartments, and Shiraz resurfaced with a thin, shining bar of steel. She then placed the thin bar upon the anvil and set to work with a chisel, hammer, and adz. Soon, the metal was a strip, of a rough size to set into the break in the bracer.

Esper's concentration was palpable; she was infinitely loving and careful with the metal. Her tongs were like fingers in her deft and able paws; the metal was like clay; she molded it to her will and whim. It was clear that both her heritage and tutelage was something to be reckoned with. The metal was now in the forge, and Esper's arm muscles strained at the anvil, pumping oxygen furiously as if her very life depended on stoking the flames. The metal was dark purple soon, making it roughly around 550 degrees. The femme pumped the dual handles harder, closing her eyes and devoting her all to making the metal turn wan, pale vermillion. Although sweat now darkened her pink fur and made it spike out, Esper did not, could not, give up. The rhythm was hypnotic, the whoosh-whoosh of the air and the hissing spit of the fire was intoxicating and deadly. Esper's body swayed in a beat to the flame, to the metal, to the forge. She would not break it until the metal exploded into cherry redness, or until her body itself broke.

 

<span style='font-family:arial'>Out of the corner of her amber eye, Esper barely noticed Kyofu watching with what seemed to be mild interest. The femme then tore her gaze away from the strangely ancient-looking femme. Her muscles strained at her skin, and she wished to break loose from her body and become pure strength in its raw form. Her biceps, hidden before, now worked hard. Their fur-covered curves pumped as the steady swishing of air intensifyed. The fires roared now, making the room a hot, smoky sauna, but half again as hot and twice as foul-smelling. Esper's raspy pant matched the air and the flare of flames, beat-for-beat, pounding out an old and primitive rhythm. She stopped pumping only once, to grab a log and a handful of coals and toss them into the flames. The air was close and smoke billowed. The fire was raging now, from the bowels of the old forge up through the newly replaced metal pipes. Esper knew the metal was almost there; she gave a few extra heaves that would probably put blisters into her fingers tomorrow. The strip of steel was now dark red, meaning it had reached the incredible heat of about 1300 degrees. After more work, it became a tangy, bright cherry red. Esper was panting now, heaving the bellows just one more time.

The metal was a vibrantly visible orange-red, the most beautiful colour in Esper's eyes. Triumphantly she let the bellows go. They deflated slowly, the leather bag collapsing in on itself hesitantly. And Esper grabbed the bracer from the table and tossed it down upon the anvil. It gave a loud, rusty-sounding clang. Dashing to the other wall, shiraz grabbed a very long pair of tongs, cast-iron, and ran back to the forge. With the utmost sensitivity and love, she drew the slightly malleable stripe of cherry-bright metal from the flames, and placed it upon the anvil, alongside the bracer but not touching it. With gloved hands she picked up a blacksmith's hammer and set to work. Sparks raged from the metal as it protested its metamorphose, but Esper was firm in what she wanted it to do. She swung the hammer hard, but what she did with it was as if she was working with a stripe of dough and a rolling pin. It was a delicate smoothing, a reworking of the soft metal. Soon, it was in a perfect strip, just the right width to fit right along with the bracer. So she put down the hammer momentarily to pick up the bracer, and set it, broken side up, on the anvil. Then, she used the metal tool to pick up the steel, laying it like a pat of butter on the armour. With a smaller hammer she tapped the metal in. She worked on it for about fifteen minutes, making sure each part, new and old, was seamless and attractive, and did not outweigh or outshine the other. Finally, happy with her work, she picked up the tongs once more and this time, ran to the door. Opening it with her foot, she dashed out and plunged the cylindar of metal into one of three barrels. This was pure water. The water boiled down several inches right away, roiling and spewing columns of steam. The next barrel the bracer was in contained salted water, to strengthen it. Finally, the object was immersed in oiled water, so as to tone and increase the anti-rusting capabilities.

Eventually, all the steam and smoke cleared, leaving a sweaty Esper standing in the small clearing in her yard, before the rocks rising up aroung her. She was dirty and smoky and damp, and held a perfectly gleaming new bracer in one triumphant paw. It was still warm, almost too warm for her to touch. But its surface was perfect, and she was very happy with her handiwork. The sunlight kissed the metal in ways that made Esper want to die of pure lust. It was beautiful.

Triumphantly, she walked into the burning-hot forgeroom, and dashed to open the high windows. After a bit of summer air (freezing cold, compared to that in the room) rushed in, she rolled her shoulders, sighed, and walked to Kyofu. "Your bracer, female. I just treated it with salted and oiled water so as to make it more durable. You might want to come back in a few suns before I hammer in the gold... it'd cling to the surface better." She happily handed the weapon to Kyofu, running her tongue across her dry mouth. "Sorry you had to sit through all the heat," she said, and meant it. Her apologetic manner was dropped in a minute, though, as she wiped sweat away with two digits. "So... shall we talk payment?" </span>

 

<span style='font-family:arial'>Esper smiled, and looked with satisfaction as the metal protection slipped effortlessly onto Kyofu's wrist. She noticed the blood there, though, a second later. She sucked air through clenched teeth. "You might want to do something about that one," she said, nudging her chin towards the wound. "I've got a bathroom," said 'Sper, stating the obvious. "You can wash it off if you like--" she continued, but she was cut off in surprise as a large, clinking linen bag found its way to her paws. She opened her mouth, then shut it again as she listened to Kyofu's careless comment. Esper shrugged, hefting the bag in her hand. She wasn't so crazy about money, but she needed it to keep making her wares. "Maybe you don't have a use for it, but I sure as hell do." She softened the blunt comment with a little smile in Kyofu's direction, and then opened the drawstrings on the bag. She drew out a small, very ancient-looking coppery coin, with a beautiful green patina that shone in the right light, and many grooves and holes purposefully cut in. The coin made the femme's breath intake quickly. It was both beautiful and old. Old wasn't a word one would use to describe it; it simply was old. Another pendragon her age might have dismissed it as some ancient artifact irrelevant to their lives, but the curious and open-minded Esper kept turning the thing over and over, claws tracing the many lines and pits. She doubted the currency meant anything anymore (in fact most currencies didn't on Ramath-Lehi), but there were a lot of coins there. They could be sold or something of the sort, for purposes of studying or use, or perhaps she could even turn them into a bracelet. Or perhaps... she hefted the coin once more. It seemed to be an alloy of some sort, perhaps gold and copper. She could create something new of the coins.

She looked up at the femme. "These are beautiful," she said, and meant it. She would have offered some back, but she wasn't really the one to turn down payment. Before she said anything else, she trotted over to the wall-hollows and stowed the coppers inside. Then she walked back to Kyofu and caught her with a commanding stare, wondering whether or not she'd want to rinse off her hurt wrist. She did not look for praise on the bracer; what Kyofu thought of it was her business and frankly not 'Sper's, but she could have admitted, she was curious as to what the femme's thoughts were on her handiwork.</span>