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Blackstone Foundry and Forge; Tuesday [07/05].

Without any major projects or jobs at that moment, but a new class coming up in a few days, Amaya was spending most of her time in the forge leading up to it sort of 'speed running' her way through her own pieces of armor. After all, she was a pretty solid hand at a good breastplate and she never met a chainmail challenge she didn't like, but weapons would probably always be her bread and butter. The armor was a bit rusty, so to speak, and she figured putting herself through a bit of an intensive crash course leading up to the workshop would be a good way to hone those skills again and get them sharpened up.

But, of course, as these things tended to go with her, she found herself that Tuesday actually really starting to feel a piece, and what had started at first stroke as just another quick shot to add to the pile of generic pieces was starting to take form and shape into something much more, and she started to pay a little more attention to the shape of it, the form of it, as the idea of a new set to have on display in the shop started to coalesce in her mind and demand to be hammer out.

She certainly didn't mind. She loved sinking her teeth into a good meaty project, and if this one turned out even half as good as the one in her mind, it was going to be a great set.

The Forge is open!

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Liz had told Dr. Lecter that she would look into the possibility of doing some metal work as part of her therapy and try to work at making her own crib for the nursery, she had no idea how she would even go about such a task and so she decided to make a stop by the forge later that morning before her classes.

She had never been to the Forge before so she was feeling a bit nervous as she entered, “um … hello?” she said as she looked around.

Amaya looked up from where she was carefully trying to bend out the curve of a breastplate on the horn of the anvil, with a little spark of excitement to see that it was not one of the usual suspects, and was, in fact, a mostly unfamiliar ~~as far as the player could remember~~ face, which meant...a potential new job! She grinned broadly.

"Welcome to Blackstone Foundry and Forge!" she called out. "Just give me two shakes of a wetzel's tail, I'll be right with you! Feel free too look around while I just finish up a few more hits on this here piece before the metal goes cold on me. Should be just a sec!"

With that, she turned her attention back to the piece, and, just as she said, hammered out a few more hits before she inspected it a little, gave it a few more, and, with the next inspection, nodded, and set it aside as her attention went back to Liz.

"That oughta do," she decided. "Now. What can we do for you today?"

“Um … I was … er .. “ Liz started and then stopped, realising that she had no idea how to even begin her request, “um … I’m Liz,” she finally settled on ~~I’m pretty sure they haven’t met?~~, “Liz Sherman … I run the Photo Hut …um,”

She took a deep breath, “Dr. Lecter said you might be able to help me work on a crib?” she finally tried, “I’m…I’m pregnant,” she explained, “seven weeks, he thinks working on a crib might help me be able to focus, I … I don’t know anything about metal work,” she admitted.

"Oh." Amaya blinked a little, her eyes flitting toward Liz's stomach in a way that was not nearly as subtle as she suspected it might be, and then returned somewhat awkwardly back to Liz's face. "Ermm....congrats?"

Yes, Amaya, very good, that was what most people said in that situation, you should be very proud of yourself for not just saying 'My condolences' instead.

To each their own, she supposed, and as she now shifted her brain gears on over to the request at hand, she considered Liz thoughtfully while resting her hammer on her shoulder.

"Well," she said, "I definitely know enough metal work to make up for that, but I have to admit. These days, I send most furniture work on over to Dwight at the Fix & Clean across the island. But he's mostly woodworking, on that end. You sure you wouldn't want something like that over something metal?"

Look, any crib design that immediately popped into Amaya's head was quite honestly something that should not be considered suitable for children. But she supposed she could tone down the spikes a little for at least this project.

Maybe.

“Thank you?” It sounded like more of a question than it should have but Liz was still trying to properly wrap her head around the idea that she was pregnant and revealing that she was pregnant as well, there was another moment of hesitation at Amaya’s suggestion of a woodwork option for the crib instead, “I … er …a wood crib really wouldn’t be viable in my situation,”

There was another pause, “I’m a pyrokinetic,” she explained and then to demonstrate she brought up her hand to show the blue flames tinged with gold, “I … I don’t have the best control of my powers and there’s a chance my daughter will have my powers as well,” she said softly.

Amaya opened her mouth for a moment as if to say something, something along the lines of the fact that, well, metal probably wasn't great around a lot of fire, either. It was the sort of thing her work actually counted on, but, really, she supposed, between the two options of wood and metal? There was a solid argument there, so she shut her mouth again and rearranged a few ideas.

"We can easily reinforce it with some high-temperature alloys to make it more heat resistant," she noted. "Not sure how hot those flames of yours can get, but the blue's telling me it's probably up there, unless that's more aesthetics than an actual indication of heat, so we'd want to go with a metal that can handle. Probably a good deal of tempering involved, could be an interesting challenge...."

At this point, Amaya was just sort of talking to herself as her mind was going through ideas, almost to the point where she may have even forgotten Liz was even there for a moment. But she eventually came back around to her again and shrugged, with a faint grin.

"Sounds like it could be one helluva project."

And, boy, if she didn't love herself a project.

"That looks like fun," Irene commented, swanning into the forge in a comfortable, easy-to-move-in outfit more resembling her usual class attire than her ubiquitous updos and sheath dresses. She was also, notably, carrying the mace she'd bought from Amaya as a child back in November. "Lesson plan for Thursday?"

Irene herself was, of course, eagerly anticipating class.

Liz hadn’t been sure what to expect when Dr. Lecter had first made the suggestion about using metal work to make a crib for the nursery but she was starting to feel a bit more optimistic as she listened to Amaya start to go through the different things tasks that could be done to make the project work.

"My - my flames are pretty hot, I - I'm still working on trying to cool them down but I haven't figured that out yet," Liz admitted. She paused, “so you think it would be possible to do? To make the crib I mean?” she asked quietly, “I - you wouldn’t mind helping me with a project like this?”

"More like a crash course in prep for myself," Amaya admitted, not allowing herself to be distracted from her work by such swanning right away, giving a few more hits of her hammer before taking a moment to inspect the results and wrinkling her nose at it a little. And she was going to go right back to making some adjustments to it, but what was supposed to just be a brief glance of acknowledgement to Irene wound up instead piquing her interest immediately.

"Say, now," she remarked, all eyes (well, most eyes) entirely on that mace, "there's someone I haven't seen for a while!"

"If it wasn't possible," Amaya noted with a bit of a snort, "then that'd only make me want to do it more. But, as it is, it's not only very possible, but I've got no other pending jobs or projects at the moment, so you really can't beat that kind of timing, either. How much do you think you'll want to be involved in the actual making of it? Are we talking strictly creative license, or are you wanting to get in there deep with the actual crafting itself?"

And, zounds, just how cool would it be when you were working with someone who could potentially just weld the damn thing with her own bloody hands??

Oh, no. Amaya was definitely starting to get....ideas.

Irene grinned at her, hefting the mace into her opposite hand in what one might have called a sincere imitation of a very Amaya-like gesture. "Well, we talked about me figuring out what to do with her, right? Unless I'm interrupting your crash course. I suppose I could practice with her very quietly."

Yes, maces. Known for being a stealthy weapon, those.

"Practicing with her quietly'll just mean you're doing it wrong," Amaya pointed out. She took one more moment to inspect the piece she'd been working on, considered the flaws she would have just been able to fix and wondered if it wasn't just best starting this one afresh in a bit, anyway, then shrugged and set it aside. "I think I've just about got the hang of it, though, and I'm sure the practice dummies'll be just about recovered from the onslaught they received a couple weeks back."

"Which was much more the sort of onslaught I'm used to delivering, for what it's worth," Irene offered -- she really was quite handy with a knife and scrappier than she came across, very deliberately. "But I suppose if I get to use this beautiful piece of equipment, it's worth not being able to sneak about like I'd prefer."

A pause, and Irene snapped her fingers. "Though that'll pair nicely with upcoming armor, won't it? Not much sneakiness with armor involved."

Despite herself, Amaya had to grin a little, with a faint snort. "Yeah," she allowed, "knights aren't exactly known for their subtlety, even when they do manage to keep the hinges good and greased. But," she added, with emphasis, as she took a moment to wipe her gloves on her skirt a little and moved toward the corner of the shop where she kept the dummies, "look at it this way."

She took a second to consider the current condition of each of them before selecting the one she felt could handle the best beating at the moment and started rolling it out to a more open space in the shop.

"With this, you can be ready for either situation," she continued as she adjusted the positioning of the dummy. "Sneaky and swift or bold and brash."

And, obviously, Amaya certainly had her preferences there, but no one would deny that it wasn't a bad idea to manage both.

With a push of her foot on the petal by the wheels, she locked the dummy into place (as well as it could be, anyway) and stepped back, folding her arms in front of her as she regarded Irene and her weapon.

"Did you want to start with just showing me what you've got?" she asked. "Or should I make some suggestions right out the gate?"

Edited 2022-07-05 14:06 (UTC)

"Suggestions would be welcome," Irene decided, watching Amaya work with her usual level of scrutiny-slash-enamored-fascination. She straightened up -- her posture was already practically perfect, most days, but this called for a certain squaring of her shoulders and planting of her practically-shoed feet as she carefully hefted the mace. "I'm a babe in the woods as far as this goes, love, and you're such a good teacher."

Irene was utterly sincere there, for once. Even if she hadn't wanted to book a weekly flirting appointment by signing up for the second round of classes, she would have done it anyway because she'd actually learned.

And as it was, she was a little worried about embarrassing herself with the mace today, but -- well, that was part of this, right? Sometimes it was all right to not be the best at something straight away, or to allow a little mess. (Even if it was in front of someone who she very, very much wanted to constantly dazzle. It was a well-worn impulse and hard to resist.)

Edited 2022-07-05 14:21 (UTC)

The journey that Amaya's grin took to becoming a smirk was...slightly delayed to make space for the slight bit of pink rising to her face, but she was going to staunchly ignore that and push it aside with a lift of her chin.

"First of all," she offered, "I'd suggest you start with actually hitting the thing."

Yes, she might have thought she was being a little cheeky with that one, but, really, if you boiled it down, it was pretty solid advice!

But, thankfully, she'd been working with Diaz on these kinds of lessons that she could offer a little more than just the basic Blackstone method of 'just swing and hope something gets in the way.'

"Try to time it so your foot and the mace land at the same time," she added, "especially if you're in a combat situation, and remember, it's not all in the arms. The whole torso's involved with any good hit. Think of it like swinging a...larger, longer hammer....only instead of on an anvil, it's on some poor sop's head."

Edited 2022-07-05 15:07 (UTC)

Irene shot Amaya a dry little look for the first point -- thank you, dear.

But it was followed swiftly by a little affirming shake of her hips, a certain wiggle to her abdomen, and an overall loosening-up of that posture. Right. Not just the arms. And good thing, too, since Irene generally did not invest a lot in her upper body strength, specifically.

She charged quickly towards the dummy with a little grunt, leading with one foot and arm in perfect synchronization, and whacked the thing round it's head with her mace.

The blow landed, but Irene was sent careening a little to the side thanks to giving it a little too much follow-through, and it took a bit of quick footwork to keep from toppling right over.

"So it's a graceful sort of weapon, I see."

Edited 2022-07-05 16:15 (UTC)

"It can be," Amaya noted, "if you know how to use it."

And maybe she was doing a very poor job of hiding just how much she was enjoying this right now, and maybe she was going to spend far too much time later on insisting (to no one but herself, no less) that she hadn't been.

"Give it another go," she added, with a nod. "Especially now that you've got a feel for it. See if you can stay on your feet this time. Remember, don't waste your energy trying to go through the spot where you want to be." She pantomimed a grip and a swing of her own, one that stopped firmly at the spot where the dummy would have been if she'd been working with her own to demonstrate. "Hit it right where it needs to be."

So maybe it wasn't so much swing and hope something gets in the way as she liked to let on after all.

"But if I go through, I'll be sure to get it done," Irene argued lightly, even as she squared up to take another go. And despite her protests, she was keeping Amaya's instruction in mind, clearly, given how she brought her swing to a swift, slightly-wavering halt as soon as she made contact with the dummy's head.

This time, she didn't go off-balance, but Irene also wondered whether she had hit it hard enough. One thing she'd learned in all her years of hustling and getting by on her wits -- if you went for the fatal blow, there was nothing worse than a near-miss. Then you'd just make them angry.

"Well, that's the trick, then, isn't it?" Amaya asked. "Knowing just how much to get through, without ending up going to far."

And, well, the nice thing about a mace was that it didn't take much to be enough.

"That looked much better, though," she offered. "Solid. But you do have the benefit of the dummy not fighting back, either way."

"Well, that part I'm usually all right at," Irene offered. "Especially if it's something so big that I'd be using the mace in the first place."

Though, really, with the really big ones, she tended to prefer her syringes.

"There's no way it can be turned back on me, is there?" she asked, considering the mace in her hands before curiously moving around to the back of the dummy. She experimentally swung the mace across where a person's neck would be, pulling the weapon back towards herself so as to choke the dummy with the handle stretched across its supposed windpipe.

Unconventional, perhaps, but also probably effective as long as she could maintain her grip and use her own bodyweight to cut off her opponent's air supply.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure anything could be turned back on you if the other guy was clever enough," Amaya pointed out, watching as Irene explored some of the other potential usages of the weapon with intrigue and approval. And honestly having difficulty imagining anyone managing to be more clever than Irene in top form, really. "More likely to have a mace turned against you than a sword, too. Bit easier to intercept and wrestle a bludgeoning weapon out of someone's grip than a sword, and a mace isn't very forgiving on a miss. Consider just that first swing; imagine if you hadn't hit the mark with a swing like that. Its weight and balance alone could be used against you if you're not careful."

"That's something I could use to my advantage, too," Irene observed, letting the dummy out of its chokehold and rounding on it again as she hefted the mace and considered its weight. "Long as I'm aware of it."

If she knew that she was going to pitch to the left a bit when she struck, she could play it up as a disadvantageous mistake in the moment and lure her opponent into opening up his own vulnerable side, right?

"Would you pair a sidearm with it?" she wondered, curious about Amaya's professional opinion even if she herself was already considering a smaller accompaniment. (Which, some part of her brain insisted, was cheating at this particular exercise, anyway.)

"Mace is usually accompanied with a shield," Amaya noted with a snort, "but you don't really see too many people waltzing around with one of those around here. But I could definitely see it matching well with nice knife or stiletto. If you're quick enough....come in hard with the mace..." Again, she was pantomiming another swing, as she went through the steps in her head, reaching over to her hip at the end of the attack as if to grab something there and then push it forward like a stab...

"Then, fwoop, stick 'em with the pointy one."

....of course, she was hardly a fighter...at least not one at that level of...finesse, so this was based entirely on conjecture and what she'd seen from Diaz and her ever impressive collection of where did she even keep that thing? brand of sidearms...so this was entirely all conjecture and what she thought might look/sound impressive.

"Throw in a good kick," out went a boot, "for good measure."

Liz had no idea about any kind of ideas that Amaya might be having now as she listened to Amaya explain that the project was possible.

“Um.. I’d like to be able to help work on the crafting process as well,” Liz nodded, “Dr. Lecter thinks it will be good for my focus, especially having an outlet for my powers,” she explained.

"Well," Amaya said with a nod. "He's a smart one. You could definitely do a lot worse than listening to that guy's advice."

He even got paid for that sort of thing, and everything!

"But I think what the question I really want to get down to is...When you makes your hands light up on fire like that, obviously you're not feeling it, right? At least not enough to really count? And if so, then what about something that's also hot? Those hands protected only from you own fire when they're like that, or are you pretty much resistant to any kind of heat at that point?"

Liz considered Amaya’s question, “I …I don’t know a lot about my powers in general, where they come from or why I have them,” she admitted.

“I don’t feel my powers all the time …it’s, sometimes I do but it’s usually an emotional response, I can usually feel when I’m about to start to have an episode,” she paused, “I …” she considered the last bit, “I’ve actually never tried seeing if I’m protected against other heat when I’m using my powers,”

And to that, there was only this next question, presented with a smirk:

"Should we find out?"

Liz tilted her head at that and then nodded, giving a small smile in response, “well there’s only one way to find out right?” she offered.

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Blackstone Foundry and Forge; Tuesday [07/05].

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