fandomtownies | Blackstone Foundry and Forge; Tuesday [07/26].

Liz was still a bit tired but she wanted to hopefully try and see what work she could get done on her crib today, hoping she could stay focused long enough to do so, so she stopped by the Forge before her classes.

“Hi,” she said with a smile as she stepped inside, holding her camera and she had a notebook/pen that had some brief notes that she’d made during the week as well.

Figuring Liz might probably stop by again pretty early as she had been, Amaya was still in some of the planning stages of her newest personal project, because there was nothing quite like being interrupted in the middle of a good scythe.

"Morning, Liz," she greeted her back with a nod. "How you feeling today?"

"A bit tired and my focus hasn't been great lately," Liz admitted, "I do still feel up to doing some work on my crib though, so I thought I'd try seeing what I can manage to do today," she said softly.

Amaya nodded a little. "And that's why I ask," she said, "to get a gauge on what you're feeling up to working on..."

Which meant she was now considering Liz thoughtfully before asking, "Did you want to keep working on the shaping for the filigree? Or maybe take it a little easier today and see how you take to welding?"

Was potential hand-welding easier than potential hand-shaping? Amaya actually had no rightly idea, but it seemed the welding, much like when you did it by more conventional means, would be the less taxing of the two.

“I think I’d like to try seeing how welding goes,” Liz considered her options, “I think it might be best if I try and take it easy today,” she admitted.

"I have been pretty curious myself," Amaya admitted, "as to whether or not this whole welding with your powers thing is even going to work, but the more I see you work with it, the more I'm convinced that, if your focus is right and all, it shouldn't be a problem. But....only one way to find out!"

With that, Amaya drew away from the counter to go reach for a few rods she had nearby, pretty much waiting for whenever Liz showed up and they would give this a try. "Basically," she explained, "I pictured you'd be welding up the structure for the base, pretty standard stuff, really, but I guess we should just start with seeing how it goes with just any old rods."

Which meant she was now holding them out for Liz.

"All welding is joining two pieces of metal by heating them up hot enough that they start to melt, and then letting them cool together. So it's really just a matter of seeing if you can get it hot enough."

Liz nodded as she listened to Amaya’s instructions and took the offered rods from Amaya, “I think that sounds like I should be able to do that,” she considered the two rods and put them on top of each other at the end, holding them in one hand, she carefully summoned her flames, “I guess we’ll see if I can get my focus back on track today,” she admitted.

"You think there's anything we can do to help with that?" Amaya wondered. "Such as...music, maybe, or anything like that? Or is it more of a 'well, guess we'll know when we know' sorts of things?"

“Music might help?” Liz considered as she attempted to focus her flames, “I normally try breathing exercises and meditating to get my focus back but sometimes it doesn’t always work, the pregnancy makes it harder,” she admitted. “I’ve been trying to stay as busy as I can to help focus but some days are better than others,”

Amaya nodded a little, as if she had any idea what that was like and asked, "What kind do you like? Of music? I don't listen to much myself, just not really as used to it where I'm from, and usually I get by just fine with the songs of my hammer, anyway. But we can definitely see if piping some through the computer helps, too."

“I really like listening to the Beatles,” Liz revealed with a smile, “they’re my favourite band, my favourite album is actually their White album,”

Edited 2022-07-26 23:24 (UTC)

Irene was, unsurprisingly, in a fantastic mood this week when she swung by to visit Amaya (and, as usual, without an actual point in doing so beyond the objective of blacksmith-flirting.) Maybe it was the new Akris dress she'd bought on her little out-of-town trip, which matched her eyes quite nicely if you asked Irene. Maybe it was her shoes, which -- just in case anyone was wondering, did not have any teeth marks.*

But most likely, it was the little wrinkled dog she had on the end of a leash that also nearly matched Irene's dress (because, like the collar that she was going to have to replace when the dog did actually grow, it had come from Tiffany and Co., because Irene was absurd.) She carefully scooped up Clementine to carry her into the forge, given that her new friend was very small and still quite new to most things, and Irene had to assume fire and sharp things and potentially startling the blacksmith herself were not ideal for puppies.

"Morning, love. What're we working on today?" she greeted Amaya cheerily, no mention of the pile of wrinkles she had in the crook of one arm.

___
* there had, of course, been other casualties. She just hadn't worn them.

"A scythe," Amaya answered, looking up from the piece of steel that was being steadily and systematically drawn out to an absolutely ridiculous length because of course the scythe Amaya would immediately go to would be one with a blade as long as she was.

But that, however, hardly seemed the more important part of the conversation, which was saying a lot, because there were few things that would be the more important part of the conversation when big shiny new weapons were involved.

Because there was a dog.

"New friend?" she guessed, lifting her brows as she straightened up from the anvil. "Or we dealing with more animal transformations again?"

There did seem to be a bit of a new rash of that lately...

"I'm flattered you think someone would trust me to care for them while transformed into an animal," Irene decided with a grin. Truly, though, most of the people who would entrust such a task to Irene were the type to turn into cats, anyway. (Or maybe a lobster?) "No, new friend. This is Clementine."

Technically speaking, registered on her paperwork, she was Clémentine, with the French pronunciation. But even Irene could only insist on being so pretentious on a daily basis.

"Nice scythe, though," she added, looking it over and meaning it, even as Clementine gave an interested little wiggle and sort of chuffled at Amaya.

Edited 2022-07-26 11:24 (UTC)

"I don't...really think it's a matter of trust at that point," said Amaya, recalling up her own experiences with this sort of thing (and, really, you know, it was right there, in the username), "so much as just who's unlucky enough to be around when it happens..."

Mmm, who didn't love a little potential foreshadowing on a Tuesday?

But a wiggle and a chuff like that could manage to get a small wry grin even out of Amaya. "But thanks," she said, with a nod of concession to the scythe, still being overshadowed by the pup, who then also received a nod. "And nice to meet you, Clementine."

No way in a million years that fancy French pronunciation would come out of that mouth, which almost inevitably found an extra twang and drawl to squeeze into it. But then that grin was shifting over to Irene a bit.

"Wouldn't have pegged you," she noted, "for much of a pet person."

If Irene was the unlucky sod who was stuck being around someone she'd wasn't explicitly fond of who turned into an animal in her presence, she would probably make certain people on this island feel comparatively better about the speed with which she'd drop that thing off at, say, the nearest fire station.

Unless they were a particularly special cat. Or a...special rabbit.

"I'm not, historically," she admitted, shifting Clementine a little forwards for pets if Amaya should care to. Irene was discovering that puppies attracted people's hands like magnets. "Always sort of wanted a pet, but in my old life, I traveled too much and worked odd hours, and it just never shook out."

But if one had to start all over somewhere and invent a whole new life, why not invent a life that had things in it that you liked and had always wanted? (And, you know, things who needed you, and who might notice if you spent all weekend laying on the sofa with a bottle in a depressive heap from time to time, and might help...curb a bit of that.)

Edited 2022-07-26 11:50 (UTC)

Amaya's hands were not ones that were instinctually drawn toward puppies. Or kittens. Or really many cute things, feeling far more comfortable with firmer and less fluffy things as a whole. But, since Irene had shifted the little thing, she did feel a little obligated to at least offer a few awkward scritches on the top of Clementine's head before the hand made a hasty retreat, lest the soot inevitably started spreading.

"Well, then," she remarked, "there you go. The timing couldn't be better."

And, actually, she was now realizing, this might wind up being a pretty good(?) thing for her, too, Irene having some other thing to have to channel all that focus and energy into, really...

Edited 2022-07-26 12:02 (UTC)

Pff. As though Irene would lose focus like that, just because she'd made a new friend, who required an entirely different sort of attention.

"Did a spot of shopping at the weekend, too," she offered casually, absently keeping a hold on Clementine as naturally as if she was a purse (though Irene did not make a habit of scritching her bags affectionately, as she was now.) "Given any further thought to my proposal from a few weeks back?"

Don't worry. She was fully prepared to elaborate, if Amaya wanted to pretend she had no idea what Irene was talking about. She was more than used to that.

Look. You couldn't blame a woman for hoping, now, could you?

Although Amaya supposed she was probably asking a bit too much in hoping that the whole shopping thing would have maybe happened to have slipped out of Irene's head entirely, and she made a little bit of a face before her nose wrinkled slightly.

And, yes, she did consider feigning ignorance, but she was a craftsman. She knew that it didn't make a whole lot of sense to keep trying something when it clearly wasn't working.

Which meant even her answer was a lot more truthful than she may have originally have offered, too.

"A bit," she said. "Maybe."

"I could guess about your hesitations," Irene offered with a small, soft smile. "But it'd be easier if you shared."

She did have guesses. For one thing, Irene was well aware that it would tip their usual dynamic a bit, which -- well, that was more than a little on purpose, but she also knew she'd be tipping Amaya right out of her comfort zone.

But she also wondered if that was all of it, and she didn't want to step on a landmine with her adorable metaphorical designer-clad foot.

She was also willing to bargain, but she was far too shrewd to make any offers of exchange without feeling out whether such a thing would be necessary first.

And there was that slight shifting of Amaya's jaw, as she realized that she could have probably taken this moment as a pretty damn good opportunity to just flee from the whole thing, but even if it weren't for that knot in her stomach that suggested that, if it wasn't one thing, it might just end up being another (or the slightly tighter knot underneath that one that she tried to ignore that suggested that there might not be another, and the whole spectacular mess that came from trying to unravel that), there was the simple fact that backing out was, undeniably, the coward's way out.

And as someone who went around claiming to be such a big fan of boldness and what have you...

"All I'm gonna say," said Amaya with a definitive nod finally, "is that you can't say I didn't warn you."

That was close enough to a fine, alright, just make it quick, wasn't it?

"Do you somehow think I don't know what I'm getting myself into?" Irene wondered dryly, lifting an eyebrow and shifting Clementine (who was getting sleepy) to the other arm. "Though don't you go and make it willfully hard on me. No cutting off your nose to spite your face. Or shoulders, as the case may be."

Irene had silhouettes in mind, already, to showcase Amaya's natural features that she felt deserved more attention.

"Wasn't planning on it," Amaya admitted, a little wryly herself, because, yeah. She was pretty convinced this whole thing was going to wind up a miserable disaster without her even needing to lift a finger. "And, luckily for you, I haven't got much nose to be cut off in the first place," because why not slip in a disparaging remark about the particular buttonness of her nose why she was at it, "and I kind of need these shoulders for work."

Edited 2022-07-26 14:01 (UTC)

"None of that," Irene chided gently, shaking her head. "I happen to adore your nose."

It was of absolute paramount importance to Irene that Amaya not at all fall under any kind of impression that she did not enjoy every single thing about her person as it stood now. (At least, physically. She could do with less stubbornness at times, but that was a matter of pots and kettles, wasn't it?)

"I'd also love to take a crack at your hair, if you're amenable." Again: she loved Amaya's hair, specifically because it was so thick and untamed and endemic of all the things she so treasured about the woman herself -- but for sheer manageability, there was probably a treatment or two out there that might serve her well.

Well, that nose was definitely going crinkly again for a moment after that...for the exact moment until Amaya regarded the pup currently in Irene's arms, and then it seemed to smooth right back out again immediately.

Only for it to move to her brow, with concern, but at least she had the bangs to cover that.

"My hair?" she asked, severely starting to doubt Irene's claim that she'd had any earthly idea what she was truly getting into.

The sheer amount of hairbrushes these unruly locks have destroyed alone, Irene!

Irene made a habit to remove her jewelry if she was going anywhere near those unruly locks, in fact. An ounce of prevention, et cetera, et cetera.

"Not personally," Irene hastened to assure her. "But I bet we could find you a product or two that might tame it a little for more humid days and the like."

She shifted Clementine again, prompting a wiggle and a yawn, so she could point at her own flawless updo. "This isn't just naturally-occurring, you know."

Left to its own devices, Irene's hair would happily turn on itself into a mess of curls (that, still, would only aspire to the heights Amaya's hair had achieved in that realm, but nonetheless.)

Amaya had shared a bed with this woman, and would still be completely convinced that, yes, actually, Irene really did just wake up like that effortlessly.

And calling the look on her face doubtful was selling it very short. There was nothing personal about it at all, there was absolutely no vanity in that department, just reality.

"Because you know," she ventured, "if this is just some attempt to exact revenge on some hairdresser who's crossed you in the past, all you have to really do is ask."

"No, it's an attempt to make your life easier, mostly. And also I'd like to play with your hair without risking being tangled forever," Irene corrected easily, smiling as though she was just talking about the weather. "Besides, if I wanted revenge on someone, I'd be more subtle than that."

Honestly, she and Diaz could probably chat a bit there about the various means available to destroy someone quietly from a distance.

Amaya's hair was just a natural defense mechanism; just like a rose with its thorns, if you wanted to get that up close and personal with it, you had to be willing to take that risk.

But, of course, in light of the fact that most of her energy right now seemed to be going into a losing battle against the blush on her face, all she could really manage was, "It's not that much trouble."

The woman wore bangs while working at a forge. She needed a the help she could get.

"It is a favorite of your features," Irene admitted, her smile crooking just a tiny bit into a smirk at that blush. God, perfect, yes. "And I'm not suggesting anything permanent. Never. I like your hair -- everything -- too much for that. Just a change that might last...oh, a week at most."

Honestly, with Amaya's hair being Amaya's hair, any treatment probably didn't stand a chance past the 72-hour mark.

"I guess it wouldn't hurt," said Amaya, "...to tryyy."

Only what it sounded like was a whole lot closer to zards, I sure hope it's not gonna hurt to try.

Maybe ignoring all this talk of several favorite features would help dull the pain a little.

Dwight wasn't 100% sure why he was stopping outside the forge just then, other than the fact he had just finished at the bank...and he was just two doors down... would be kind of ridiculous to go all the way around to get to Caritas to do his shopping... and he did want to make sure Amaya was doing ok...sooooo....

"Hey, Amaya...." he said suddenly feeling like he had no idea what to say now that he was standing there in the doorway of the forge.

Well, now, there was a silhouette that Amaya hadn't expected to see darken her doorway pretty much....well, ever again...

So she just sort of had to take a moment of just sort of looking at him and hoping he was about to stroll on in with one big, meaty project for her and nothing but before she turned her attention back to the scythe blade for a few more hits before realizing it was starting to get too cool for the hammer to be much more effective without a reheat.

"Dwight," she then said, lowering the hammer and straightened back up to give him a nod. "What can we do you for?"

"Actually, I was wondering if you could help me out with something. Just a little project (sorry Amaya) but it would be a big help for me. And it should present an interesting challenge all the same, if you are interested at all." Dwight paused a moment and then added. "Do you know much about doing metal inlays and such?"

Amaya, you probably didn't have to look so incredibly relieved, complete with sigh, the second 'help me out with something' left Dwight's mouth, did you?

But it was there, and, with the relief and the eagerness to latch onto anything starting with the letter P- and followed by -rojects, she even managed a faint grin with her snort of response.

"Do I know much about metal inlays!" she remarked with a wry, somewhat cocky incredulousness. "Come on, now. I could inlay metal in my sleep!"

Yup. THERE it was. That Blackstone.... charm?

Dwight gave a small chuckle and shook his head. Well, was good to know nothing had changed in that regard. He pulled out his phone and started flipping through the photos.

"Oh, I figured as much. But didn't want to assume... (that you were willing to have anything to do with him now) or anything. But was looking at something along the lines of this basically."

He held the phone over so she could look at the ref pics and the sketches he had been working on while brainstorming the last few days.

It certainly was uniquely hers.

"I think," Amaya said confidently, "if it involves anything with metal, it's pretty darn safe to assume I've got it covered, more often than not."

But, with that out there, she reached out to take the phone for a closer look, feeling another little twinge of relief (but not...quite? Something a bit different about it, that she had neither the wherewithal nor the desire to really pick apart right now, or even ever) that he'd just forked it over instead of having her lean in for a peek or something like that.

And all that washed away, anyway, once she did get a look at the pictures and the particular elaborateness that the design would suggest. "Looks like that could keep me busy for a good few days," she said, the approval in her voice at that unmistakable as she handed the phone back to Dwight. "What's the occasion?"

"Yeah, figured if our resident blacksmith extraordinaire couldn't manage it then I was out of luck," Dwight said in all sincerity- no sarcasm, hyperbole, or attempted flattery there. Just honest truth and respect for a fellow craftsman.

He took the phone back and gave a small shrug. "Just looking to try and expand what I have in the shop. I've had some people asking for inlay or filigree work and well... that is obviously outside my wheelhouse. So, figured I'd start with a little personal project and see how it goes. This will be for a new headboard."

And once that was out there it was Dwight's turn to start thinking and pondering things a bit silently. Kinda funny wasn't it? It had been a mutually beneficial project that had started things off what seemed like so long ago.... but well, it was obvious how that had all turned out. Maybe it would work out a bit better this time.

Edited 2022-07-26 12:32 (UTC)

After hearing what the inlays were for, Amaya was just going to take a moment to shove a thought out of her head and replace it with a conviction that, you know what, she didn't really need to know details, all she needed to know was what she was making.

"And if starts taking off," she noted, "you know me. I'm never one to turn down a steady stream of work."

She'll just...conveniently not pay too much attention to the more collaborative nature of it all, really just focus on the being busy aspects.

Of course. Narry a mention of collaboratives or cooperation. Nothing any different than simply making something for a client. Person A gets Person B to make something they need. No reason to read more into it than what was necessary... At least that was the approach Dwight was trying to take. Not doing all that good... but still, he was trying.

"I'll do my best to keep ya busy if it takes off at all," he assured her, still trying to convince himself he wasn't making a mistake by doing this again. But he did legitimately need Amaya's help with this. And he wasn't so much a fool as to repeat past lapses of logic.

Strictly business. Done and done. Just like old times...

Amaya nodded staunchly. "And I'll make sure those inlays are so good you won't have much of a choice in keeping us both busy."

Just like old times. With or without coffee to be determined still.

"Sounds good," Dwight said and then after a couple minutes continued. "So any big exciting projects or clients passed through lately? Other than classes which I hear are going well."

Amaya shrugged a little at that. "Not as many as I'd like," she admitted, but when were they ever? "Mostly just working on the crib with Liz. Got my brain scratched on maybe branching out into some fire-proof toys as well, but that's mostly just in the wings at the moment. Got a hole in the wall there," she threw her thumb that way to point out the weaponless spot on the weapons wall, "that's what the scythe here is for. But other than that? Not a whole lot."

"Will have to see what we can drum up to remedy that" Dwight said with a slight nod.

"And getting back to that project of mine.... do you have any recommendations as far as what metal would be the best to us and what wood might compliment it? I have access to a range of vendors for the lumber so it shouldn't be an issue. I was thinking something a bit unique like a mahogany or teak. But of course am open to suggestions and your expertise to find the right combination."

He HAD been contemplating a real challenge and asking about Damascus but even he knew that might be a little too bold for such a project. But then again.... it was Amaya after all.

The day Amaya Blackstone said no to damascus was probably the day they put her cold dead corpses in the ground.

"Think that might be a case of seeing what fits in the moment," she admitted. "There's no lack of options around the shop at any given moment, and, with a lot of 'em, I can easily temper 'em to a good color to match. Basically, if you bring it to me, I'll find the right one to go with it."

"Sounds like a plan" Dwight agreed. "Will figure out that bit on my end and get everything finished up and then bring it over for you to work your magic on!"

And maybe there would be a coffee drop off involved. For old time's sake.... maybe.

Blackstone Foundry and Forge; Tuesday [07/26].

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