fandomtownies | Blackstone Foundry and Forge; Tuesday [06/06].

Look, Amaya loved being a blacksmith; it was just a part of who she was now, more than just a mere calling, but a part of her soul, woven into the very fabric of her essential Amaya-ness. But there were some days, rare and few and far between though they may be, when she sort of questioned that particular life choice, and today was one of those day.

Because Amaya had woken up with a massive headache that no amount of caffeine seemed to be able to chase away, and the idea of getting down there and clanging around some metal with a hammer when she sort of felt like the hammer was already being utilized against her skull, well....not exactly her idea of a good time. The pain in her heart over the missed work was definitely not nearly as bad as the pounding in her skull right now.

But of course she couldn't just take a day off and rest or something. No, no, no. That was unheard of! Who do you think she was, Shunsui Kyōraku?? So she was down in the forge, she was drinking a lot of water, but the anvil was staying mostly cold, if she could help it. And with avoiding any forging today, she figured it might be a good time to just sort of work on the website and get some new products up, and try to maybe update some pictures here and there, and make sure she had plenty of Tanalorian steel on hand to temper into some nice rainbow-colored sets for the month and all, once her brain finally did cooperate.

The Forge is open!

[[ method rp? I don't know what you're talking about ]]

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It was strangely sort of quiet and cooler than usual in the forge when Irene sashayed her way in today, and while Irene did not quite slot those puzzle pieces together perfectly, it did have her tempering her usual greeting just a skosh, a note of hesitation sneaking into her voice instead of a full-throated little song made of her favorite blacksmith's name.

"Amaya?"

"Irene," Amaya greeted back, from the counter, and she supposed she couldn't blame anyone for being a little thrown with her being there today instead of at one of the anvils. She nodded, too, as usual, though it was a little small and stiff, and even that, she regretted. Even that minuscule little dip of her chin made her feel like something gotten loose and was rattling around in her skull.

"Are you all right, darling?" Irene asked, dropping her voice immediately to a murmur as she crossed over to the counter with a worried wince.

She'd caught onto the headache -- hence the voice dropping -- but was still taking a delicate moment to suss out a few clues as to specificity. (Could be a hangover, easily, based on the water intake.)

"Oh, I'm fine," Amaya said, careful not to sound too insistent on it and having to stop her halfway hand as it lifted on its way to rub consolingly at her temples, lest she give away any extra hints that Irene probably wouldn't even need to deduce that she was maybe not feeling too well. No need to risk it, or at least no need to give her more ammunition than strictly necessary.

"Just catching up on some computer work, updating the sites,so on and so forth. Since I haven't got any other pressing projects or jobs at the moment, and everything. How are you?"

"I'm grand," Irene assured her, barely thinking about the answer in favor of watching Amaya and her halted hand carefully, her expression shifting from worry to sympathy, and she idly began sifting through her handbag. "Been busy covering the whole shop in rainbows, sourcing the finest of all queer-produced toys to promote at Pride, so on."

With a muted sort of triumph, she produced a tiny bottle of paracetamol and held it up with a raised eyebrow, leaving the question itself unasked.

Honestly, Amaya was just feeling grateful that whatever Irene had to rifle through in her bag wasn't anything too noisy, but, when the bottle was finally procured, her eyes fell on it with hesitation. Reluctant to admit that she should need it and to confirm Irene's suspicions, but also knowing that she needed it and pretending that she didn't or saying she didn't was likely to only inspire additional potential fussing, investigating, or questioning.

So there was going to be a few moments of calculations going on before, with a sigh, Amaya just held out her hand for the bottle.

Irene offered out a soft little smile as she passed it over, those moments of calculations providing their own clues.

Which was why there would be no questioning, and her investigations felt fairly well concluded (though with Irene, did investigations ever really conclude?), but -- fussing, that might be a different matter.

"Get you anything?" she offered softly. "Tea? Scalp massage? Fuck around with your monitor settings to dim it?"

Irene, of course, thought that the best answer was for Amaya to take her poor aching head (minimally; she was still figuring out whether other things hurt, too) upstairs to rest, but she also knew Amaya too well to suggest that right out of the gates.

Amaya's headache was pretty bad, but not so bad that she didn't find herself wildly disappointed by the words that ended up following Fuck around. Logically, she knew better, of course, but still...

She fiddled with the bottle until she was able to get out a few pills, tossed 'em down the hatch and swilled them down with a gulp from the water she had at the counter, and handed the bottle back.

"I'm good," she said, almost with a little bit of a sigh. "Although, not gonna lie, those drills are looking like they could make quite the improvement on my skull. I was probably going to start whipping up some of my Tanalore steel into some rainbow sets today, too, they're always a hit, but they just might have to wait."

"You know no one would fault you if you just went up and spent the rest of the day in bed, babes," Irene offered, both her tone and that babes more gentle than her usual flirtatious fare. "Plenty of time before you'll need the rainbow sets."

Though, the follow-up -- which, truly, she couldn't help, even if Amaya wasn't feeling well -- was classic Irene. "Could keep you company," she noted, waggling her brows just a tad, mostly to see if she could get a smile (and to gauge just how bad this headache -- she was fairly sure it was not, in fact, a full-body problem -- was.)

Amaya had to give Irene a bit of a slightly pained, withering look at that first part, and not even for the babes, although that did inspire at least a little bit of the wrinkle of her nose. No, it was mostly for the fact that what she said was an outright lie. There was someone who would fault Amaya for such a thing, and that person was, of course, Amaya herself.

That other part, though...even her stubborn pride had to contend with the appealing fact that yes, spending the rest of the day in bed was anathema, but spending the day in bed with company was an entirely different thing.

"Plenty of work to still be done," she pointed out, although it, just like the forge itself today, didn't have much fire in it. "Even if it's not smithing. In fact, best get this work done now, since I rarely do it much anyway."

"Or," Irene countered, leaning an elbow on the counter conspiratorially, "you rest up so that your gorgeous brain can function at its fullest when you're feeling better."

A pause, a correction. "After I'm done helping you feel better." And a sly little smile to accompany it.

(And sure, she definitely meant it as innuendo, but she also found that she genuinely wanted to take care of Amaya because she wasn't feeling well, which was frankly still somewhat anathema to her. And that withering look did not help matters, adorable as it was.)

"....you do drive a hard bargain," Amaya had to admit, in a murmur, because, believe her, there was nothing gorgeous about her brain right now, unless you found the mental equivalent of having it squeezed in a vice appealing.

And Amaya did usually find vices very appealing! That's how bad it was!

But that sly little smile was definitely doing a lot of the work there, because, without it, the idea of anyone helping her out with anything right now, especially in matters of feeling better, went up against everything she and her pigheaded independence stood for!

But she'd tried denial plenty enough today; she hadn't really found out what distraction might do...

Blackstone Foundry and Forge; Tuesday [06/06].

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