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Blackstone Foundry and Forge, Wednesday

Fjord was only dimly aware of any sort of holiday today, mostly by virtue of movie night last night. And, since it wasn't his holiday, and he figured he hadn't been told to do otherwise by Amaya, he was dutifully showing up for his shift (and his lessons) at the Forge.

He'd started on a sword last week. This week he intended to make some progress on it. But first, a check to see if there was any other work left out for him to do today before he got lost in his own project, which meant he was sharpening a few blades and then gathering some scrap steel all into one place to be melted down for use later.

It still wasn't life on a ship, but at least it was keeping him busy. He appreciated that.

[OOC: Open!]

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Fenris had done some investigating about the day. It gave him an idea. He went to visit Fjord at the forge.

"I'm going across to the mainland tonight. Interested in a journey?"

Fjord paused with his armload of scrap, turning to give Fenris a curious look.

"A journey? Do you have something you need to do over there?"

He wasn't going to play chicken with another semi truck, was he?

That was not the plan, but the best laid plans etc. etc.

"I need to investigate, look around, catch the local color," Fenris said airily, "and tonight, at least, I can do it without some form of ridiculous disguise. It will be assumed I am already wearing one."

There was no way this was going to end well.

Fjord tilted his head a bit at that.

He smelled shenanigans afoot.

"Assumed, will it? I don't suppose people might make the same assumption about, say, a half-orc, too?"

Not that he couldn't just slap up a disguise if they wouldn't.

"It is," Fenris said loftily, "expected that people will dress in costume and fancy dress today. I believe they would make that assumption about you as well as I. Children will be escorted door to door, also in costume - the children; I am unaware if the doors themselves are dressed up - to beg for treats or threaten with tricks if people are not forthcoming with the asked-for treats. Adults will be going to parties, also in costume. There are sometimes even prizes for costumes and several local pubs have been advertising such on the radio."

He smirked. "I plan to take full advantage of this. Let's go skive some free drinks."

Fjord's expression broke into the smallest smirk, which slowly spread until he was grinning outright.

"It would be difficult to beat an actual elf and half-orc wearing fully functional armor," he mused.

"It would be very difficult," Fenris agreed solemnly.

"Other people have to paint their skin," he smirked, "How many of them do you think will ask us how we managed? I plan to say 'magic' and act mysterious."

Fjord grinned faintly at that thought.

"I could actually use an illusion and be completely honest about that one," he mused.

"And pass up a perfectly good excuse to practice lying?" Fenris tsk'd disappointedly, "Fjord."

"You say that as though you think I need practice," Fjord replied, amused.

"Everyone needs practice," Fenris pointed out, "and what better opportunity than now?"

"I can come up with five other opportunities off the top of my head," Fjord mused, depositing the scrap into the appropriate pile, "but it does still sound like a good time, I'll give you that."

"But are they better opportunities?" Fenris asked, amused. "It should be fun. Free drinks, the opportunity to confuse the locals when they ask where you got your eye lenses."

He shot his roommate an amused look, "I found some on the computer."

After a moment, "Didn't buy any."

"Eye lenses," Fjord echoed, pointing at his eyes. "What, to look like these? Really?"

... Humans were so strange.

Fenris nodded. "All different colors and pupil shapes but yes, some to look just like yours."

"... That's fucking weird."

He had strange eyes, even by half-orc standards. Why anybody would want eyes to match was beyond him.

"Why?" Fenris asked, "Your eyes are interesting."

Fjord was giving Fenris such a weird look, at that.

"They're eyes. They see things. I suppose that's interesting?"

He got awkward when people called him handsome. Interesting was new.

Fenris crossed his eyes and made a face at Fjord on purpose in return for the weird look.

"I suppose it's like my ears, for people who've never seen the type," he allowed, "I've not seen eyes like yours before, thus: interesting."

He threw him a small grin, "At least your ears are normal."

"And I'm pretty sure you're the only one on the island who thinks so," Fjord chuckled. "But thank you."

Hey now, there was Taako.

... Fjord had never met Taako. So that didn't help any.

Fenris had only heard of Taako.

"Where I'm from, 'round ears' is an insult to the shemlen," Fenris noted, "Even though their ears are round."

It wasn't the words, it was the way elves said them.

"Very round," Fjord agreed, shaking his head. "I suppose they must be jealous."

He didn't actually think they were, no. But these were the conversations he had with Fenris. So.

"Oh, probably," Fenris waved a hand as if brushing it away. "Their sad, short lives; their small, round ears." A beat. "Their pathetically under-endowed.. imaginations."

After a moment, "What time will you finish up here?"

Fjord smiled a touch wryly at the comment about ages. Half-orcs only lived about 75 years, themselves. At a generous estimate. Depending on who their non-orc parent was, perhaps.

"Before sundown," he replied, brushing on past that. "Amaya's got me working on my first sword, and I'll be working at shaping it today. I suppose there's a chance I'll get wrapped up in the work, but if you stop by at dusk and remind me, I can start cleaning up after myself and getting ready to go."

Humans generally lived far less than that, where Fenris was from. They generally stupided themselves to death by age 50.

"Alright," he said agreeably, "If I don't see you before then, I'll stop by to tell you it's time to stop playing with your sword and come drinking with me."

Well, that was just sad for a race that took twenty damn years to reach adulthood.

... And whether or not they actually had was debatable.

"I look forward to it," Fjord chuckled. "Enjoy your day in the meantime, Fenris."

"You know me," Fenris said airily as he headed toward the door, "I always do."

He made his own fun.

"See you later."

When Amaya came down into the shop that morning, she couldn't help a faint sigh as she saw the Weapons Wall, which was looking a little sparse today. Sure, she knew it was only that way temporarily, because most of her weapons were relocated to her office for Diaz's little caper thing, but it still was a little sad to see it.

Also, she had an office? What?

Well, she could always use more storage space, really.

Either way, she had two mugs of coffee again, one for her, one for Fjord, which she offered out to him before realizing she couldn't very well stifle a yawn politely with two mugs of coffee in her hands. She tried, though, and it went into her shoulder before she greeted him.

"'Mornin', Fjord; how you feeling today?"

After all, this day last year was the day she'd woken up thinking she was a bloody sexy vampire. She was glad enough to be still feeling very much her usual self, but she didn't know if anyone else might be feeling otherwise on a day like this.

"Feeling like working," Fjord replied, smiling crookedly as he reached to help her with that coffee.

Or, ah, take one for himself. One of those things.

"Yourself? Sleep well, did you?"

It was still far too morning for that question, Fjord.

He was more than welcome to it. Amaya definitely felt she needed a second cup, sure, but not necessarily at the same time as her first.

"Not as well as I'd have liked, I'm afraid," she admitted a little wryly. "Bit too worried, I think, of what I was going to wake up as this morning, but I'm glad to report that I woke up very much myself."

Realizing that that might need a little explanation, what with him still being fairly new, she explained, "Last year, 'round this holiday, was my first time experiencing something weird with this island, so I wasn't sure if it was just a fluke or if it was going to happen all over again."

"Something weird, huh?" Fjord gave her a curious look at that, coffee already halfway to his mouth. "I seem to have lucked out so far as all of that goes, bout as a snake notwithstanding. What sort of weird was there, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Would be kind of foolish of me to bring it up and then mind you asking," Amaya pointed out, but she sighed a little, shaking her head. "Spend the whole day...or I guess I should say evening, as I'd only go out at night...thinking I was a genuine, honest-to-goodness vampire. I'm just glad I somehow managed not to try sucking anyone's blood; I was still pretty new to this place at the time, and that would have made some pretty awkward encounters going forward if I had, I'd imagine."

"Biting strangers does tend to make for an interesting time," Fjord replied, looking... somewhere between amused and utterly baffled. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Not given the whole snake situation. But a vampire? Really?"

"Right?" said Amaya. "Exactly. And not only that, but at least with your snake situation, I assume you were still very much...you. I was very much...not. I could've left an awful lot of....interesting first...impressions," give her a second, "if it had been a more exciting night, let me tell you that much."

There was the second. Amaya snorted.

"Impressions. Ha. That was pretty good, and I didn't even mean that one."

Fjord managed to not groan at that one, but he did almost wince a little. Oh, that was terrible, Amaya.

"Would've been a memorable night, for sure," he settled on. "Can't imagine what it'd be like waking up the next day and realizing that I wasn't at all me the day before, though."

It couldn't be helped. Her canon demanded it.

"Well, I don't recommend it," Amaya offered, "if you can all help it. Which you usually can't, but..."

She shrugged, taking a good, much needed swig from her mug.

"Enough about that. You're in the mood for work, and here I am, just yammering on. And if I'm not mistaken, you've got yourself a sword that needs shaping."

"That I do," Fjord agreed with a grin. "I've been looking forward to getting back to it all week, if I'm being honest. Both my other jobs around this island are a little more idle than I'd like. You'd think the bar would at least be a little busier on Friday nights."

Being the last day of the work week, and all. They didn't have the same calendar back home, nah, but some things were universal.

"If radio's anything to go by," Amaya mused, "it's Tuesday that's the busy day."

Because that made all sorts of No Sense at All.

"Maybe I'll have to swing in on a Friday, give you something to do at your other job, too. I could probably stand to spend a little more time," not working herself, "at the local watering hole, anyway. But you'll like this. It's a lot of the same, boring, repetitive, hard work, over and over. If you're not feeling this one tomorrow, then there just may be something wrong."

She grinned, then hitched her thumb over her shoulder. "Go ahead and make sure you've got the forge to a nice yellow heat, then grab your sword and thrust 'er in, and while that heats up, go find which hammer you think'll suit you best."

"You know exactly what I like to hear, Amaya," Fjord drawled, giving an easy chuckle as he made his way over to check out the temperature of the forge. "The hard work part, I mean, though I won't complain about somebody else stopping by the bar on Fridays, either. I'm told I'm not a disaster with a rum and coke, if nothing else."

He could make them as a snake. That was an achievement.

"I tend to stick with just your basic ale, anyway," Amaya shrugged. "Never bothered much with any of that fancy stuff."

Because rum and coke was so fancy.

"So what we're doing today is shaping the sword, and it's probably one of my favorite parts. Heating the metal gets it soft, and then you hammer it against the anvil to try to flatten it, lengthen it, thicken it it, give it a curve, whatever else you'd like to do with it, which sounds pretty easy, but it takes a little while to figure out how the metal responds to different kinds of hits. And that's not a bad way at all to spend the day, just getting familiar with heated steel and what to does, see if you can figure out how to make it do what you'd like for it to do. Different hammers'll do different things, too, so just see what you can come up with."

"Sounds like it's a lot of learning by doing," Fjord mused. "I can appreciate that."

He nodded toward the forge.

"Second set of eyes here would be appreciated," he added. "I'm pretty sure this is right, but before I get started I'd still like a second opinion, if it's no trouble."

"Wouldn't be much of a teacher if it was any trouble," Amaya countered, with a faint breath of a laugh, because she honestly never did imagine herself as much of a teacher. But it didn't take her long to make an assessment, nodding slightly. "Just a little more with the bellows, I think, and you'll be spot on. Not too much, just enough to make it glow a bit more. You eventually get to the point where you can just tell when it's right. I'm sure there's more technical ways to tell, but I've never had any need for 'em. And you'll want to make sure it stays about that way throughout, so make sure to keep up the heat as you're working, too."

"Learn by doing," Fjord replied, smiling faintly and moving to work the bellows. "I can appreciate that. Sailing's a bit that way, too. Understanding the currents, knowing the winds."

It was difficult to keep a wistful note from his voice as he spoke. Fjord had only been here a short while now, and he was surrounded by water on all sides, and he still missed the sea.

"Learn by doing," Amaya agreed with a nod, finding it difficult not to smile a little at that tone. "Take chances, be bold, trust your gut. Really no better way to do it, if you ask me."

"Only way to learn from your mistakes is to actually take the risk of making them in the first place," Fjord agreed, working those bellows with a grin on his face. "So long as you're taking care to make the right ones."

The wrong mistakes while working with superheated metal could be disastrous.

Just like the wrong mistakes while on a ship in the middle of the ocean.

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Blackstone Foundry and Forge, Wednesday

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