The Gig, Saturday

[waytoomanynames.livejournal.com]

The heat in the smithy was incredible, the forge blasting out temperatures Rosie had never dreamed it could reach, and sweat ran off her in rivers as she wielded the hammer.

The bat'leth was broken. First thing to do was make it one piece again. She would worry about finding its shape again after that happened.

The sliding doors were shut and latched - she didn't want anyone wandering in and possibly getting hurt - but given the noise of hammer ringing on metal was loud even with that, anyone looking for Rosie could probably find her.

[ooc: Info on The Gig is here.]

Comments

[flipped-god-off.livejournal.com]

One of the bad things about Bartleby being gone was that it left Loki without someone to talk to who didn't make him want to beat his head into the wall.

So, he found himself bored again. On a Saturday. Holy shit, he was getting old.

The boredom led him to exploring which led him to some place filled with loud noise and a stupid name.

Then again, every place had a stupid name in this town.

He followed the noise, uncaring of any potential danger but stopped at the latched doors, peering inside curiously.

[waytoomanynames.livejournal.com]

Being able to talk to animals, and having a flock of sparrows who seemed to believe that you needed all the help they could give, made it hard to sneak up on Rosie.

"Give me a minute," she yelled, lifting the metal off the forge with a pair of tongs to plunge it into the waiting barrel of water. Steam hissed up, filling the smithy, and she left it there, pushing her wet hair back as she slid the door open. A billow of steam followed her. "Can I help you?"

[flipped-god-off.livejournal.com]

Jesus, of all the places to find a goddamn woman. Still, she was a woman and he wasn't blind. Or deaf. Much though he sometimes wanted to be (Bartleby could drone the fuck on when he wanted to).

"What's this place?" he finally asked after getting over the shock of the whole woman thing. "World's worst sauna?"

[waytoomanynames.livejournal.com]

Rosie leaned on the edge of the door, not having any idea what a sauna was. "If you mean this building, it's a smithy. If you mean the place in general, it's The Gig."

[flipped-god-off.livejournal.com]

"The Gig, huh?" His eyes went wide. "If I was illiterate, I'd be thankful. But I'm not so no thanks given. I like when it balances out like that."

He smiled at her.

"What the hell does this town need a...smithy for? Didn't realize the Pilgrims still existed."

[waytoomanynames.livejournal.com]

"Horses need shoes, weapons need repairing. It was here when I arrived, so someone must have thought the island needed it," she replied, returning the smile cautiously. "Pilgrims?"

[flipped-god-off.livejournal.com]

"Someone was out smoking behind the school during history lessons," he said, peering over her shoulder. "Pilgrims are a bunch of insubordinate idiots who enjoy taking their lives into their own hands to trek halfway across the fucking country to a better place. And then they whine about shit being bad in their new home. Wah wah wah."

[waytoomanynames.livejournal.com]

Rosie stared at him, arms crossed, and the flock of sparrows peered down at him from the roof, twittering. "Your history isn't mine," she informed him. "And I don't think much of your manners." Or his language. No one carried on like that back home. "But I will give you a tour, since you're so interested."

[flipped-god-off.livejournal.com]

"Oh, did I offend you?" He momentarily looked surprised but he eventually slipped into laughter. "If that's gonna be your reaction to people not being all courteous and shit with you, then you'd better just go live in a goddamn bubble. You won't last in this history."

But, still, he was bored.

"How much does your tour cost? Are you one of those people who asks for donations when they really mean they want some fucking money and they just can't outright say it because they're too chickenshit?"

[waytoomanynames.livejournal.com]

"You'd prefer it if I wasn't honest?" She was still staring at him, but it was in total bemusement; his behaviour was entirely outside of her experience. "And I'm not offended," she said.

"The tour costs nothing except some of your time." She turned to lead the way into the smithy. "I'm Rosie, by the way."

[flipped-god-off.livejournal.com]

"Honesty's a myth," he muttered, stepping in behind her. "No one's completely honest. Everyone lies no matter how pure of heart they say they are. And I'm..." Oh, what the hell. "Loki."

He wasn't hiding his identity. Sometimes it was just fun to make up stupid names.

[waytoomanynames.livejournal.com]

Her entire life was a lie, told from the best of intentions; she couldn't disagree with him. "All the more reason to tell the truth when you can."

Rosie stopped in the middle of the floor, pointing as she spoke. "This is the smithy. Forge, powered by some sort of gas, workbench, raw material, tools," she hefted a very large hammer, "work in progress," she gestured at the crudely curved bat'leth in the barrel of water, and gave him a crooked smile. "It's a short tour."

[flipped-god-off.livejournal.com]

"And what in the hell made you wanna do this?" Loki asked. "Really, not the most fucking rewarding work in the world."

Pause.

"Except I sit on my ass all day and shuffle papers so I really shouldn't fucking talk. Still. Don't the horses make you smell and shit?"

[cowboy-sailor.livejournal.com]

After their romp on the beach, Mr. Twain was ready to relax and hang with the homies. Tully set about taking off the saddle, and reins.

[waytoomanynames.livejournal.com]

"Have a good ride?" she called from her spot on the fence. She was relaxing after the day, listening to the birds chatter to each other.

[cowboy-sailor.livejournal.com]

"Sure did." Tully smiled. Mr. Twain agreed. "Do you ride?"

[waytoomanynames.livejournal.com]

"I don't," she replied with a smile of her own. "Which probably seems strange."

[cowboy-sailor.livejournal.com]

"Depends, do you specialize in caring for horses?"

[waytoomanynames.livejournal.com]

"I guess I do," she replied. "I'm a horse-leech, you'd say a vet, I think, by training. This is the first time I've ever been responsible for them day in and day out, though."

[cowboy-sailor.livejournal.com]

"Then yes," Tully smirked teasingly. "It does seem a little strange. Have you ever rode?"

[waytoomanynames.livejournal.com]

She made a face at him, then grinned. "A few times, when I was needed in a hurry. Luckily the horses knew how to be ridden, so we managed. I'd rather walk if I have the choice."

[cowboy-sailor.livejournal.com]

Tully walked occasionally. "What made you choose horses?"

[waytoomanynames.livejournal.com]

She frowned, thinking. "Because it was what was needed," she finally said. "And because there was someone to apprentice to."

[cowboy-sailor.livejournal.com]

Tully could understand that. "When I was growing up I always knew I was going to be a cowboy. It was the family business. Good thing for me I liked it well enough."

[waytoomanynames.livejournal.com]

"It's good to know what you want to do." She looked around the place, and shook her head. "I never thought I'd wind up doing something like this."