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"Hey, there. I guess the thing is to make a greeting for this little device that lets you know you've reached the phone of Amaya Blackstone, and you can leave a message for me here, and that I promise not to take apart this one like I have the past three. I haven't figured out how to get them back up and running yet, but I will, you mark my words. This one, I'll not tinker with. Apparently it's important. So rest assured, you can reach me here, and I'll try to get back. I mean, I suppose it's more efficient than a letter, but it's still a little strange..."
*CLICK!*
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Sticky: Voicemail: Blackstone Foundry and Forge.
Mar. 13th, 2018 09:43 am"Hey, there, thanks for calling Blackstone Foundry and Forge, for all your blacksmithing, metalworking, and Crumbling needs. Seems we're busy at the moment, but if you'll leave a message, we'll try to get back to you as soon as we can. Thanks again, and keep on Crumblin'."
**BEEP!**
**BEEP!**
Port Bruce; Llewdor; Saturday [05/11].
May. 11th, 2024 04:51 amThe journey between Daventry and Llewdor was a bit of a long and treacherous one, involving dangerous mountains, deadly deserts, and potentially sea travel, although the geography of this world was generally highly subject to change and up for debate. Which was exactly why Amaya and Irene would be traveling there with portals, as much as Amaya would like to see how Irene might fare in an arduous journey through the wilderness.
But, in the aftermath of the Tournament, Sir Graham had already proven himself to be an asset to the kingdom by settling the dispute with the Bridge Trolls, and it became very clear to Amaya that the money that had been so liberally promised to her was drying up quickly. Funny, that, considering the legend about the Royal Family of Daventry having in its possession a magical never-emptying chest, but Amaya wasn't going to dwell on that for too long. She followed the money, and if the money in Daventry was drying up, then it was time to go back to Fandom.
After a brief stop in her hometown, anyway. So she made the arrangements so that she and Irene could just portal right into the small seaside hamlet of Port Bruce, under the shadow of a lone spire of a mountain with a menacing castle atop it. And while the town was usually rowdy with all its passing pirates and merchants, the land of Llewdor itself was quite quite and pastoral, great field and rocky terrain and old oak forests, the kind of place that, once they were settled in at the inn, had Amaya offering Irene an apologetic sort of smile.
"Not exactly as many good places for sightseeing here as you'll find in London," she admitted, tempering her worry about what Irene might make of the place Amaya grew up in with the reminder that, well, this was probably quite a bit like what Irene would have expected, especially after a week in Daventry.
[[ for the fellow traveler, though can also be open for calls and texts! NFB for distance as well, obvi! ]]
But, in the aftermath of the Tournament, Sir Graham had already proven himself to be an asset to the kingdom by settling the dispute with the Bridge Trolls, and it became very clear to Amaya that the money that had been so liberally promised to her was drying up quickly. Funny, that, considering the legend about the Royal Family of Daventry having in its possession a magical never-emptying chest, but Amaya wasn't going to dwell on that for too long. She followed the money, and if the money in Daventry was drying up, then it was time to go back to Fandom.
After a brief stop in her hometown, anyway. So she made the arrangements so that she and Irene could just portal right into the small seaside hamlet of Port Bruce, under the shadow of a lone spire of a mountain with a menacing castle atop it. And while the town was usually rowdy with all its passing pirates and merchants, the land of Llewdor itself was quite quite and pastoral, great field and rocky terrain and old oak forests, the kind of place that, once they were settled in at the inn, had Amaya offering Irene an apologetic sort of smile.
"Not exactly as many good places for sightseeing here as you'll find in London," she admitted, tempering her worry about what Irene might make of the place Amaya grew up in with the reminder that, well, this was probably quite a bit like what Irene would have expected, especially after a week in Daventry.
[[ for the fellow traveler, though can also be open for calls and texts! NFB for distance as well, obvi! ]]
Amaya had to admit; it was a little bit strange, being back in her old stomping grounds. Last week, she'd received...a summons? A job? A gig? You could probably call it a lot of things, but she'd received an awful lot of gold pieces to head back to Daventry for a bit to make sure everything was set and supported for Tournament of Knights coming up. She knew she'd have some work to do to get the old shop up to the standards she was used to working with now, so she left pretty early after getting her letter (and sorting things out with Irene, but she was failing trying not to think too much on that at the moment), and those first few days had been filled with disparaging the last blacksmith who'd been brought in to replace her, getting things up to snuff, chasing the wetzel wolves that couldn't migrate back to Serenia right now with all the bridges out, avoiding Wente trying to give he hugs, and doing an assessment on exactly what bridges needed work and what she needed to do to built them back up again. There was no way she could do that all before the Tournament, so unless they worked out something with the Bridge Trolls fast, they were getting makeshift or nothing next week.
But that morning, she woke up, brewed her coffee in her apartment upstairs, checked in on how the lobsters were adapting to their new digs for the time being, and then headed down stairs to get things started for the day. The scent of Wente's baking bread wafted over and almost made her feel like it was worth the risk of a hug to get one of those cinnamon streusels of his to go with her coffee, and she'd need to stop in to see the Hobblepots about a lantern for the wolves, talk to Kyle and Larry about keeping that back gate to the town closed, talk tot he woodcutter about some boards....
Daventry was much quieter and smaller than Fandom Island, but there were still rhythms here that felt comfortable and reassuring...
And the big fat pile of money she was getting for being here definitely wasn't hurting as well. It would be incredibly easy to just stay for a bit longer, even after the Tournament, and profitable, too...
Amaya took a big swig from her coffee, set the mug aside, and decided it was best to just get back to work.
[[ mostly establishly, NFB for distance, but I'm all for visits, letters, and the use of potentially world-breaking uses of technology! ]]
But that morning, she woke up, brewed her coffee in her apartment upstairs, checked in on how the lobsters were adapting to their new digs for the time being, and then headed down stairs to get things started for the day. The scent of Wente's baking bread wafted over and almost made her feel like it was worth the risk of a hug to get one of those cinnamon streusels of his to go with her coffee, and she'd need to stop in to see the Hobblepots about a lantern for the wolves, talk to Kyle and Larry about keeping that back gate to the town closed, talk tot he woodcutter about some boards....
Daventry was much quieter and smaller than Fandom Island, but there were still rhythms here that felt comfortable and reassuring...
And the big fat pile of money she was getting for being here definitely wasn't hurting as well. It would be incredibly easy to just stay for a bit longer, even after the Tournament, and profitable, too...
Amaya took a big swig from her coffee, set the mug aside, and decided it was best to just get back to work.
[[ mostly establishly, NFB for distance, but I'm all for visits, letters, and the use of potentially world-breaking uses of technology! ]]
Amaya had never really thought of herself as much of a vacation kind of person; things like the school trips were nice and good for inspiration and new experiences, and she did like that aspect of it, but she always did get a little itchy and just wanted to get back to work in her shop, more often than not. But she was really starting to feel like this whole birthday holiday concept was something she could definitely get on board with.
Or maybe, just maybe, it had less to do with the company than it did the holiday itself.
Although, to be fair, the holiday itself had been pretty great, too. After their time in Rome, they headed north to Florence, which not only boasted all sorts of fascinating Renaissance-era science and history for Amaya to get far too wrapped up in, but also vineyard tours and wine-tasting and excellent food in the countryside. And then they headed even further north still until they landed here in Milan, where the fascination with contraptions could be switched out with fashion and Irene's turn to really be in her element. And later that evening, there would be a visit to some fancy theater for a fancy ballet, but for now? A little mid-day break in the Milan meanderings for lunch at a fancy restaurant that just so happened to have the promise of a big meat stick on its menu....
And trying not to think too much about how this whole journey was coming to an end, for...well, a whole bunch of reasons that Amaya was really not interested in examining too closely at all, if she could help it.
[[ for the fellow birthday vacationer and NFB for distance, of course~ ]]
Or maybe, just maybe, it had less to do with the company than it did the holiday itself.
Although, to be fair, the holiday itself had been pretty great, too. After their time in Rome, they headed north to Florence, which not only boasted all sorts of fascinating Renaissance-era science and history for Amaya to get far too wrapped up in, but also vineyard tours and wine-tasting and excellent food in the countryside. And then they headed even further north still until they landed here in Milan, where the fascination with contraptions could be switched out with fashion and Irene's turn to really be in her element. And later that evening, there would be a visit to some fancy theater for a fancy ballet, but for now? A little mid-day break in the Milan meanderings for lunch at a fancy restaurant that just so happened to have the promise of a big meat stick on its menu....
And trying not to think too much about how this whole journey was coming to an end, for...well, a whole bunch of reasons that Amaya was really not interested in examining too closely at all, if she could help it.
[[ for the fellow birthday vacationer and NFB for distance, of course~ ]]
It should absolutely be stated, for the record, and with absolutely no uncertainty, that anything that was to potentially occur in this apartment this evening had nothing to do with the date on the calendar. Well. Okay. It maybe had something to do with the date on the calendar, but only because the arrival of...that mushy holiday...meant the apex of business for Irene, and, as a result, that meant she'd earned a little something to celebrate making it through the rush, because while no one better talk to Amaya about all those hearts and chocolates and romantic notions, she would always be here to celebrate capitalism and the power of the shiny gold coin.
Or, well, American dollars, in this case, but, anyway, you understood what she meant. This was about love of money and sales and the bottom line, and not about love of...
...other things. It was just about Irene coming over and getting the chance to unwind somewhere that wasn't right above her shop to celebrate a successful sales period. Over some food that neither of them had to cook. And some celebratory champagne. And maybe....some....other things. Later....
Shut up.
And Amaya pouring some rum one for her and one for the squirrels was clearly just a sudden bout of her generous nature, really.
[[ oh, you know who it's for, and NFB, s'il vous plaît ]]
Or, well, American dollars, in this case, but, anyway, you understood what she meant. This was about love of money and sales and the bottom line, and not about love of...
...other things. It was just about Irene coming over and getting the chance to unwind somewhere that wasn't right above her shop to celebrate a successful sales period. Over some food that neither of them had to cook. And some celebratory champagne. And maybe....some....other things. Later....
Shut up.
And Amaya pouring some rum one for her and one for the squirrels was clearly just a sudden bout of her generous nature, really.
[[ oh, you know who it's for, and NFB, s'il vous plaît ]]
Somehow, despite Amaya usually working with the door to the forge wide open for passersby and good airflow, yesterday had passed her by without incident. Maybe all that hammering and the weapons on the wall had meant even the most careless of werebeastie knew to avoid that place. The same, apparently, could not be said for her greenhouse, and she noticed it that next morning, as she was getting ready to go downstairs and get the day started, something rustling in the plants.
"Dave?" she called out curiously. "Diane?" And, after a small hesitation and a sigh and a shake of her head, "Stabby? You all aren't getting up to something you shouldn't be, are you?"
But even as she said it, she looked toward the tank and saw the lobsters were there, just chilling out without a lobster care in the lobster world, and she frowned, maybe thinking she'd been mistaken. But there was no mistaking this loud crash of a clay pot on the tile floor of the greenhouse, and Amaya wasted no time in snagging up her nice cast iron pot and going to go see who was stomping around her greenhouse and making a mess of things.
The door swung open, and the red, feral eyes of several something stomping around her greenhouse pivoted immediately toward her, including from the large pane of broken class by the door from the outside that all these abnormally large and vicious looking rabbits had crawled in through.
"Ah," Amaya managed to get out, before they pounced, "zards."
[[ and open, if anyone so happens to try and swing by! ]]
"Dave?" she called out curiously. "Diane?" And, after a small hesitation and a sigh and a shake of her head, "Stabby? You all aren't getting up to something you shouldn't be, are you?"
But even as she said it, she looked toward the tank and saw the lobsters were there, just chilling out without a lobster care in the lobster world, and she frowned, maybe thinking she'd been mistaken. But there was no mistaking this loud crash of a clay pot on the tile floor of the greenhouse, and Amaya wasted no time in snagging up her nice cast iron pot and going to go see who was stomping around her greenhouse and making a mess of things.
The door swung open, and the red, feral eyes of several something stomping around her greenhouse pivoted immediately toward her, including from the large pane of broken class by the door from the outside that all these abnormally large and vicious looking rabbits had crawled in through.
"Ah," Amaya managed to get out, before they pounced, "zards."
[[ and open, if anyone so happens to try and swing by! ]]
At this point, Amaya had been a rabbit for so long that there weren't many nooks and crannies and little hidden spots that she hadn't sussed out around Irene's apartment, or, at the very least, she'd gotten into enough cabinets and drawers and little tricky hidden spots to have developed favorites and one of those favorites, at the moment, seemed to be all the drawers in Irene's vanity.
How did Amaya actually get in the drawers of the vanity? How did Amaya manage to squeeze herself into half of the places Irene had been likely to find her throughout the week? Who knew. Rabbit magic, perhaps. But these drawers had plenty of little interesting containers and compacts with interesting smells. And while rabbit Amaya still had enough sense to know that those powders and liquid were not for eating, that didn't seem to prevent her from managing to get herself plenty dusted and smeared with various things while she was in there. And now that she was done thoroughly exploring everything in that drawer, she nudged it open a little and started to poke her little rabbit nose out of the crack she'd created to start wriggling her way up to the top of the vanity to see what other interesting things to get into and/or knock over (not intentionally, mind you! She was a rabbit, not a cat!) up there...
An exploration that would, definitely, involve somehow managing to get a powder compact open and adorably rabbit sneezing into it, which only made the ensuing dust cloud of makeup more impressive!
[[ for she of the ransacked makeup collection, natch! ]]
How did Amaya actually get in the drawers of the vanity? How did Amaya manage to squeeze herself into half of the places Irene had been likely to find her throughout the week? Who knew. Rabbit magic, perhaps. But these drawers had plenty of little interesting containers and compacts with interesting smells. And while rabbit Amaya still had enough sense to know that those powders and liquid were not for eating, that didn't seem to prevent her from managing to get herself plenty dusted and smeared with various things while she was in there. And now that she was done thoroughly exploring everything in that drawer, she nudged it open a little and started to poke her little rabbit nose out of the crack she'd created to start wriggling her way up to the top of the vanity to see what other interesting things to get into and/or knock over (not intentionally, mind you! She was a rabbit, not a cat!) up there...
An exploration that would, definitely, involve somehow managing to get a powder compact open and adorably rabbit sneezing into it, which only made the ensuing dust cloud of makeup more impressive!
[[ for she of the ransacked makeup collection, natch! ]]
6 Unicorn Street; Tuesday [12/13].
Dec. 13th, 2022 04:10 amAmaya supposed being dragged out to do radio turned out to be a blessing in disguise, because it was thanks to the squirrels that morning that she knew what was up with today, well before she got started in the shop for the day, where it would end up catching her entirely unawares until the first poor unsuspecting (or, she rather suspected, potentially perfectly suspecting) person strolled in.
But not today, mistletoe! Ha!
Amaya was going to spent her Tuesday now tucked away safely in her apartment, with some big dusty volumes she'd been wanting to start cracking into anyway and a nice mug of tea, by herself, and that mistletoe could just go bugger off.
Downstairs, there was a sign posted on the door, though, because even when there was mistletoe, she hated the idea of potentially missing out on some business:
Blackstone Foundry and Forge
is CLOSED today
due to technical difficulties
For inquiries or weapon emergencies, please contact
555-AMYA
And, with that, she settled in for what would hopefully be a nice, mistletoe-free day, for once, dammit!
[[ of course it's open, duh. ]]
But not today, mistletoe! Ha!
Amaya was going to spent her Tuesday now tucked away safely in her apartment, with some big dusty volumes she'd been wanting to start cracking into anyway and a nice mug of tea, by herself, and that mistletoe could just go bugger off.
Downstairs, there was a sign posted on the door, though, because even when there was mistletoe, she hated the idea of potentially missing out on some business:
is CLOSED today
due to technical difficulties
For inquiries or weapon emergencies, please contact
555-AMYA
And, with that, she settled in for what would hopefully be a nice, mistletoe-free day, for once, dammit!
[[ of course it's open, duh. ]]
Amaya's day had started exactly as it usually did and exactly as she preferred it: bright and early and incredibly busy. Thankfully, the work of figuring out which spot along the shore was likely to give the most pumpkin chuckin' for their buck as well as one that seemed likely as a good defensive spot against, say, a potential kraken attack some day, was easy. And the work of hauling a good deal of wood, tools, other supplies, pumpkins (both organic and concrete), and a variety of different weights and counterweights to that spot was much more demanding, but those were the kinds of demands Amaya rather enjoyed. Honestly, hauling materials across an island with far too many steps probably ranked right up there with her top five ways to spend a Saturday morning.
But, eventually, all the materials were there, and then it was just a matter of her partner-in-trebucheting to arrive so that they could get to work and get to the good stuff. She took a moment to lick a finger and lift it in the air (after removing her glove, of course) to test the wind, nodded approvingly, and maybe was just going to get started on at least the base of the thing, because she really was terrible at waiting when there were things to be doing and potential lingering nerves to ignore.
Even if she was, occasionally, distracted by what she thought was someone talking to her, in little more than a creepy whisper on the breeze, but, whenever she turned her head, she found there was no one there.
Which was probably best for them, really. She was loaded for bear on things to be thrown at anyone trying any sort of funny business, after all.
[[ mostly for the trebuchet date (trebu-date?), but feel free to poke at the blacksmith before she arrives! ]]
But, eventually, all the materials were there, and then it was just a matter of her partner-in-trebucheting to arrive so that they could get to work and get to the good stuff. She took a moment to lick a finger and lift it in the air (after removing her glove, of course) to test the wind, nodded approvingly, and maybe was just going to get started on at least the base of the thing, because she really was terrible at waiting when there were things to be doing and potential lingering nerves to ignore.
Even if she was, occasionally, distracted by what she thought was someone talking to her, in little more than a creepy whisper on the breeze, but, whenever she turned her head, she found there was no one there.
Which was probably best for them, really. She was loaded for bear on things to be thrown at anyone trying any sort of funny business, after all.
[[ mostly for the trebuchet date (trebu-date?), but feel free to poke at the blacksmith before she arrives! ]]
It had been the kind of week that made Amaya wonder if it was rude to just drop your friends off at the animal shelter for kenneling when they'd turned into something, but it had also been the kind of week where she figured even if she did drop Irene off at the shelter, she'd still manage to make her way back, if how often Amaya wound up having to unceremoniously remove her from the bedroom was anything to go off of. She wasn't really sure how much of that was the ermine or how much of that was Irene, but there had definitely been far too many mornings waking up with a fancy weasel curled up in the bed...somehow.
And, sure, when she had to take care of Seivarden as a cat, she got cat hair all over everything...but at least she stayed in the living room. And Amaya had given herself very firm, very arbitrary Rules about this sort of thing!
So when Amaya went to bed the night before, she was....well, she wouldn't call it confident that there was no getting into the bedroom that evening, because she'd just had the week she'd had, but...she had a good feeling that her efforts to stymie another bedroom breach were pretty solid.
Amaya was, of course, wrong about this.
If anything, her efforts only encouraged the ermine more.
But she'd she wouldn't know anything about that quite yet, as she herself was still sleeping, snoring away, maybe a little later than usual because proper weasel restriction was honestly a bit exhausting.
[[ obviously for the aforementioned fancy weasel, s'il vous plait!
and I would 100% like to leave it up to the squirrels if they decide to take Amaya up on her bribe or not ;) ]]
And, sure, when she had to take care of Seivarden as a cat, she got cat hair all over everything...but at least she stayed in the living room. And Amaya had given herself very firm, very arbitrary Rules about this sort of thing!
So when Amaya went to bed the night before, she was....well, she wouldn't call it confident that there was no getting into the bedroom that evening, because she'd just had the week she'd had, but...she had a good feeling that her efforts to stymie another bedroom breach were pretty solid.
Amaya was, of course, wrong about this.
If anything, her efforts only encouraged the ermine more.
But she'd she wouldn't know anything about that quite yet, as she herself was still sleeping, snoring away, maybe a little later than usual because proper weasel restriction was honestly a bit exhausting.
[[ obviously for the aforementioned fancy weasel, s'il vous plait!
and I would 100% like to leave it up to the squirrels if they decide to take Amaya up on her bribe or not ;) ]]
6 Unicorn Street; Monday Morning [05/02].
May. 2nd, 2022 03:56 amYou know what? Things had been perfectly fine...right up until the point where they weren't, and that point was exactly the moment that Amaya, being pulled out of sleep in the way of those who stuck to a pretty rigerous schedule for these things, became aware of the fact that, no, no, everything that happened in the last few days was not just some nightmare (when was it ever?) and had indeed actually happened (didn't it always?), because here she was, waking up, not by herself at all but, instead, with the inexplicable, inexcuseable, absolutely unheard of (occasional school trips notwithstanding) situation of waking up with someone else in her bed with her.
And not only that, but with an arm around her to boot!
Amaya...almost didn't even know what to do with this information. Her first thought was somewhere along the lines of understanding now why Diaz kept a good knife close to her own bed because that would come in handy for removing that arm, but then Amaya did remember who that arm was attached to, and she would feel a bit bad about that. A bit, especially when she remembered why that arm was there in the first place.
Having never been in this situation before that she could remember (that whole vampire thing, she felt, was quite a bit different, and, besides, more importantly, hadn't been in her own bed!), Amaya needed a moment to not panic and tried to use her own brain (especially now that it was clearly not romantic mush like it had been the last few days!) to get her out of this mess. Come on, Blackstone. You've gotten out of sticky situations before...
...nothing quite as sticky as this, but...
There was a good chance that, especially now that she was awake, Dwight wouldnt' be too far behind, so she had to think fast. Which meant the only real possible solution was going to have to be trying to very, very, very gently move that arm and slip her way out from underneath it, get out of the bed, head toward the door, and just literally just keep walking until she reached Timbuktu and never come back!
After she got dressed, of course.
Ahhhhhhh, zards!
[[ awkward wake up posts? what awkward wake up posts? For the owner of that arm and former Mr. Blackstone. ]]
And not only that, but with an arm around her to boot!
Amaya...almost didn't even know what to do with this information. Her first thought was somewhere along the lines of understanding now why Diaz kept a good knife close to her own bed because that would come in handy for removing that arm, but then Amaya did remember who that arm was attached to, and she would feel a bit bad about that. A bit, especially when she remembered why that arm was there in the first place.
Having never been in this situation before that she could remember (that whole vampire thing, she felt, was quite a bit different, and, besides, more importantly, hadn't been in her own bed!), Amaya needed a moment to not panic and tried to use her own brain (especially now that it was clearly not romantic mush like it had been the last few days!) to get her out of this mess. Come on, Blackstone. You've gotten out of sticky situations before...
...nothing quite as sticky as this, but...
There was a good chance that, especially now that she was awake, Dwight wouldnt' be too far behind, so she had to think fast. Which meant the only real possible solution was going to have to be trying to very, very, very gently move that arm and slip her way out from underneath it, get out of the bed, head toward the door, and just literally just keep walking until she reached Timbuktu and never come back!
After she got dressed, of course.
Ahhhhhhh, zards!
[[ awkward wake up posts? what awkward wake up posts? For the owner of that arm and former Mr. Blackstone. ]]
Amaya had woken up and got dressed and prepared with a heavy reluctance to face yet another Friday, but it didn't take her long at all to realize that this morning was, finally different.
Mostly due to the fact that Dwight was still there sleeping on her couch.
Really, now, that's the day they managed to get out of the loop with finally, huh? It couldn't have just been the one where they'd both gotten shot?
But he hadoh so handwavily because the last few days have been straight up dumpster fires still showed up yesterday, despite finally being filled in by Miguel about what had been happening, and at that point, Amaya, too, had realized that maybe just being honest about everything was the best route (and, hey, it had only taken her four days!). And even though there was a good chance that there'd be some progress in the whole thing when the infiltration team hit up that island, maybe it would be better if they both just stayed put, they could maybe get some planning and work done in the shop and then she could make some tea and he could come hang out with the lobsters.
There'd been quite a bit of awkwardness--even arguing!-- about it, at first, mostly on account of the whole getting shot that one time part of it, but at least just spending time in the apartment was better than just shoving Dwight in the closet again--not that it had apparently done much good! At least until they were sure the infiltration had succeeded, and, if not, well, then, they'd just reset yet again, and she'd make sure to text him immediately after waking up again to not even bother!
And, of course, was there a part of her who knew that there was a good chance the excursion would be successful? Maybe. But she wasn't going to think about that.
She was, instead, mostly going to try to see if she could slip pass the sleeping lout on her couch to get to the kitchen and make her coffee, as quiet and stealthy as could be (which, to be fair, were not usually her strong suits), and then hopefully slip down to the shop before he woke up and get starting on some work that might actually stick now that things were clearly back to normal (time-wise, anyway! There was nothing normal about this situation!) to help avoid at least that particular bit of awkwardness.
[[ for the oh-so-shamelessly modded and handwaved houseguest, please! ]]
Mostly due to the fact that Dwight was still there sleeping on her couch.
Really, now, that's the day they managed to get out of the loop with finally, huh? It couldn't have just been the one where they'd both gotten shot?
But he had
There'd been quite a bit of awkwardness--even arguing!-- about it, at first, mostly on account of the whole getting shot that one time part of it, but at least just spending time in the apartment was better than just shoving Dwight in the closet again--not that it had apparently done much good! At least until they were sure the infiltration had succeeded, and, if not, well, then, they'd just reset yet again, and she'd make sure to text him immediately after waking up again to not even bother!
And, of course, was there a part of her who knew that there was a good chance the excursion would be successful? Maybe. But she wasn't going to think about that.
She was, instead, mostly going to try to see if she could slip pass the sleeping lout on her couch to get to the kitchen and make her coffee, as quiet and stealthy as could be (which, to be fair, were not usually her strong suits), and then hopefully slip down to the shop before he woke up and get starting on some work that might actually stick now that things were clearly back to normal (time-wise, anyway! There was nothing normal about this situation!) to help avoid at least that particular bit of awkwardness.
[[ for the oh-so-shamelessly modded and handwaved houseguest, please! ]]
Well, it was sad to see it, but the Squirrel Crumbler hadn't made it very far in the marshmallow snow at all once Amaya and Dwight headed out of the Forge. Clearly, she was going to need to do some marshmallow-related upgrades, but that was for another time, since she'd already put out the forge and bundled up against the elements to make the trek out to Dwight's shop to inspect the cases he was working on.
And you know? The marshmallow snow wasn't all that bad, once you got used to it. And as Amaya was looking around and sort of appreciating just how nice it looked and was about to say as much, something else instead rather caught her eye.
"Well, that's new," she remarked, in spotting that island that seemed to affix itself to the District, and then she frowned, suddenly uncertain. "Isn't it?"
[[ for that bullet magnet with her! Gee, whiz, I can't imagine anything that could possibly go wrong here! ]]
And you know? The marshmallow snow wasn't all that bad, once you got used to it. And as Amaya was looking around and sort of appreciating just how nice it looked and was about to say as much, something else instead rather caught her eye.
"Well, that's new," she remarked, in spotting that island that seemed to affix itself to the District, and then she frowned, suddenly uncertain. "Isn't it?"
[[ for that bullet magnet with her! Gee, whiz, I can't imagine anything that could possibly go wrong here! ]]
"Bleaurraaurrghhhh..."
If anyone heard the sound that emerged from Amaya as she slowly seemed to pull herself not out of sleep, but back into consciousness that morning and mistook it for something not entirely human, they couldn't exactly be blamed for that. But Amaya was human, despite the groan, although, honestly, she wasn't quite sure herself. She felt odd. Exhausted. Drained. And it was with that detail, as well as the details of the unfamiliar surroundings coming into focus as she stirred herself awake, draped uncermoniously over some couch in an unknown living room, that a hand touched her neck, and then her other hand touched the marks on her wrist, and it all came together.
"Oh, zards!" she murmured, to no one in particular, because at the moment, at least, she seemed alone. "Bloody vampires!"
Although, if her memories of last night now coming back to her were any indication, they weren't exactly the bloody vampires she would have expected, and as she fell back on the couch again because she had to give them one thing, they seemed to have done a pretty thorough job of it last night and groaned again for all the weakness she was feeling just then, she made a resolute conclusion that she could confidently say she was not really a big fan of this whole Halloween holiday anymore.
Still not as bad as the mushy one, though.
[[ and for the bloody vampires in question, but, hey, it can be totally open, too, should anyone want to swing around after all that nonsense ]]
If anyone heard the sound that emerged from Amaya as she slowly seemed to pull herself not out of sleep, but back into consciousness that morning and mistook it for something not entirely human, they couldn't exactly be blamed for that. But Amaya was human, despite the groan, although, honestly, she wasn't quite sure herself. She felt odd. Exhausted. Drained. And it was with that detail, as well as the details of the unfamiliar surroundings coming into focus as she stirred herself awake, draped uncermoniously over some couch in an unknown living room, that a hand touched her neck, and then her other hand touched the marks on her wrist, and it all came together.
"Oh, zards!" she murmured, to no one in particular, because at the moment, at least, she seemed alone. "Bloody vampires!"
Although, if her memories of last night now coming back to her were any indication, they weren't exactly the bloody vampires she would have expected, and as she fell back on the couch again because she had to give them one thing, they seemed to have done a pretty thorough job of it last night and groaned again for all the weakness she was feeling just then, she made a resolute conclusion that she could confidently say she was not really a big fan of this whole Halloween holiday anymore.
Still not as bad as the mushy one, though.
[[ and for the bloody vampires in question, but, hey, it can be totally open, too, should anyone want to swing around after all that nonsense ]]
Office #21; Saturday [09/26].
Sep. 26th, 2020 06:06 amWhen she wasn't yelling through the walls at Diaz and Kyōraku about tea and sake, Amaya Blackstone actually was doing some work in her office, thank you very much. It wasn't directly class-related, no, but she was working on a few different ideas for some spring devices for more weapons inspired by the project she'd gotten from Liam. There was a lot of potential there for some new ideas, and her gadget work was perfect for when she had to be in her school office, since it was fairly contained and could be work on anywhere.
Of course, that meant on occasion, a few springs that got a little too tight sent pieces of her projects flying through the air and hitting the walls or ceilings, but, since she know knew this used to be Kyōraku's old office, she was sure a few dings here and there weren't the worst thing this office had seen.
Either way, she was there, the door was open, she was ready to chat with anyone who wanted to swing on by.
[[ and, as the post says, it is indeed open! ]]
Of course, that meant on occasion, a few springs that got a little too tight sent pieces of her projects flying through the air and hitting the walls or ceilings, but, since she know knew this used to be Kyōraku's old office, she was sure a few dings here and there weren't the worst thing this office had seen.
Either way, she was there, the door was open, she was ready to chat with anyone who wanted to swing on by.
[[ and, as the post says, it is indeed open! ]]
77 Godiva Street; Friday Evening [07/17].
Jul. 17th, 2020 04:53 am"Thanks again for letting me come over and scope out the new place, Diaz," said Amaya, from underneath the new kitchen sink as she, despite not being much of a plumber, inspected all the new pipes and what have you and got to work on testing them, as Rosa swung around to offer her a fresh cup of coffee. "I'm sure everything is fine, of course, but you can never be too careful about these things, especially towards the end of a week, you know? I'm glad you thought of me to come make sure everything was up to snuff."
Rosa was not going to point out that Amaya had asked her, because that was obviously what Amaya was going for, and was just going lean against the counter and look around the place and think about the work that still needed to be done for it, but, hey, actually, that raccoon or his lackeys or whatever had actually done the construction hadn't done too terrible a job. It was actually really kind of nice. But...it was still done magically in a day by randomly appearing woodland critters, so the skepticism was strong.
"Yeah," she murmured, "I'm not even sure I expect it all to still be here next week, but I guess we'll find out."
"Can never bee too careful with these things," Amaya repeated, with a grunt, as she loosened, then tightened a fitting. Then there was a slight pause before she added, "And Diaz? If anyone asks, tell them that something was definitely on fire."
Rosa looked at the half of Amaya that was sticking out from underneath her sink and frowned. "Who would even ask?"
And Amaya was pretty sure no one would, but the message she'd left canceling on Seivarden for their plans that evening made it sound like an emergency, so she just had to make sure the story was straight. So she paused a moment before a hammer entered the equation. "Oh, you know," she said. "Just in case."
Yeah, Rosa was definitely not going to pry into that. "Sure," she said, "fine. Whatever. I'm going to go measure the new weapons closet for fittings. Maybe you can get started on that when you're done pretending my kitchen's on fire."
She turned to go, had a thought, and then turned back, briefly.
"Please don't actually set my kitchen on fire."
"I won't!"
See, now, Rosa wanted to believe you, Amaya, but Rosa also knew you, Amaya. With one skeptical, slightly warning linging look, Rosa went to go inspect other various things around the new place that she could maybe pretend were on fire if anyone asked.
And once Rosa was gone for a bit, that's when Amaya took another bottle of rum out of her toolbox and set it importantly on the counter with a call of, "You hear that, anyone who may be listening and taking notes? Things here were definitely on fire!"
Just to make sure.
Especially since she knew who did radio tomorrow morning.
[[ establishy, but also definitely open! with a caveat that this week has been dumb and might continue to be dumb, ugh ]]
Rosa was not going to point out that Amaya had asked her, because that was obviously what Amaya was going for, and was just going lean against the counter and look around the place and think about the work that still needed to be done for it, but, hey, actually, that raccoon or his lackeys or whatever had actually done the construction hadn't done too terrible a job. It was actually really kind of nice. But...it was still done magically in a day by randomly appearing woodland critters, so the skepticism was strong.
"Yeah," she murmured, "I'm not even sure I expect it all to still be here next week, but I guess we'll find out."
"Can never bee too careful with these things," Amaya repeated, with a grunt, as she loosened, then tightened a fitting. Then there was a slight pause before she added, "And Diaz? If anyone asks, tell them that something was definitely on fire."
Rosa looked at the half of Amaya that was sticking out from underneath her sink and frowned. "Who would even ask?"
And Amaya was pretty sure no one would, but the message she'd left canceling on Seivarden for their plans that evening made it sound like an emergency, so she just had to make sure the story was straight. So she paused a moment before a hammer entered the equation. "Oh, you know," she said. "Just in case."
Yeah, Rosa was definitely not going to pry into that. "Sure," she said, "fine. Whatever. I'm going to go measure the new weapons closet for fittings. Maybe you can get started on that when you're done pretending my kitchen's on fire."
She turned to go, had a thought, and then turned back, briefly.
"Please don't actually set my kitchen on fire."
"I won't!"
See, now, Rosa wanted to believe you, Amaya, but Rosa also knew you, Amaya. With one skeptical, slightly warning linging look, Rosa went to go inspect other various things around the new place that she could maybe pretend were on fire if anyone asked.
And once Rosa was gone for a bit, that's when Amaya took another bottle of rum out of her toolbox and set it importantly on the counter with a call of, "You hear that, anyone who may be listening and taking notes? Things here were definitely on fire!"
Just to make sure.
Especially since she knew who did radio tomorrow morning.
[[ establishy, but also definitely open! with a caveat that this week has been dumb and might continue to be dumb, ugh ]]
"I will give them this much," said Amaya, pushing herself up from where she'd been giving the locks on Rosa's door a good luck, "that's some incredibly clean work there. That's the work of someone who plans to get right back to them and make sure no one's any wiser about it. An easy enough fix, but I'm going to guess you want something a little complex for next time."
Rosa, leaning on the wall of the hallway, just looked at her.
"Not that there will be a next time, of course," Amaya amended with an assuring lift of her hand, "especially not with what I can do with these. Just actually worked on a bookshelf with some good hidden traps in it, I can apply some of the same concepts here."
"A bookcase?"
And Amaya grinned. "A word to the wise," she said. "Definitely ask before borrowing any books from your new neighbor down the hall. But this won't take long. If I get started now, I'll probably have most of it done in time for that party tomorrow."
Rosa nodded, took a sip from her mug of coffee. "Just do what you need to do."
"Aye-aye, Detective," said Amaya with a little salute before crouching back down for her tools. And offering up an almost apologetic smile. "Quite a welcome back, huh?"
Rosa just snorted, marveling slightly that she was even bothering getting new locks in the first place.
[[ work is deeeaaad. Post is open! ]]
Rosa, leaning on the wall of the hallway, just looked at her.
"Not that there will be a next time, of course," Amaya amended with an assuring lift of her hand, "especially not with what I can do with these. Just actually worked on a bookshelf with some good hidden traps in it, I can apply some of the same concepts here."
"A bookcase?"
And Amaya grinned. "A word to the wise," she said. "Definitely ask before borrowing any books from your new neighbor down the hall. But this won't take long. If I get started now, I'll probably have most of it done in time for that party tomorrow."
Rosa nodded, took a sip from her mug of coffee. "Just do what you need to do."
"Aye-aye, Detective," said Amaya with a little salute before crouching back down for her tools. And offering up an almost apologetic smile. "Quite a welcome back, huh?"
Rosa just snorted, marveling slightly that she was even bothering getting new locks in the first place.
[[ work is deeeaaad. Post is open! ]]
Amaya was starting to feel incredibly uncertain about all of this, but any social situation was likely to make her feel awkward regardless of if it was a whole group of people or just one. Honestly, she'd rather just go back home and hole up inside her room with a book and not have to see anyone if she could but she was already mostly there by the time she'd inexplicably turned into her awkward teenaged self, and, really, there was no point in turning back. That's what a coward did, and she didn't want to be a coward. She wanted to be brave and bold like her heroes in all her epic stories, like that woman who fought the dragon and saved those kids from the witch. If she was going to be bold like that but couldn't even make it through a movie night with a friend, then what hope did she have? So she took in a deep breath, bolstered herself witha courage that she wasn't really feeling, and made it to the apartment to knock on the door.
She really hoped she didn't regret this. She could be reading about King Lars the Left-Handed tonight! Ugh! Books were so much easier than people!
[[ for she who lives there, because I am terrible and also an addict to this event, but I might be actually done spamming the friends list now MAYBE ]]
She really hoped she didn't regret this. She could be reading about King Lars the Left-Handed tonight! Ugh! Books were so much easier than people!
[[ for she who lives there, because I am terrible and also an addict to this event, but I might be actually done spamming the friends list now MAYBE ]]
Office #21; Saturday [09/28].
Sep. 28th, 2019 07:33 amAmaya wasn't sure what sort of turn-out she might have for this weekend; as she'd mentioned to Fjord, hers did seem the sort of class parents and the like might want to check in on. She thought of just directing people on over to the shop, so she could still get some work done, but that didn't seem very fair and quite a bit inconvenient for the guests, really, and it wasn't like she couldn't just bring some work with her. Not a bad work space, this office, when you got right down to it, but it was hardly the same as her shop.
How it was exactly that Amaya came into the office with just a single box filled with various gadgets and parts to work on only to have the whole place covered with an array of different bits and pieces and tools within the hour was anyone's guess, but it definitely did make the room feel a bit more like home.
[[ open door, open post! ]]
How it was exactly that Amaya came into the office with just a single box filled with various gadgets and parts to work on only to have the whole place covered with an array of different bits and pieces and tools within the hour was anyone's guess, but it definitely did make the room feel a bit more like home.
[[ open door, open post! ]]
6 Unicorn Street; Friday Night [07/19].
Jul. 19th, 2019 04:22 pmIt felt a little strange acknowledging it, what with the way the summer had been going as a whole, but Amaya was actually having herself a really good week, even with being made a target in Diaz's class today. Maybe even because of it, because she knew she'd earned it, really, and she was still sort of riding the high of that competitive spirit from the trebuchet competition on Wednesday, she'd gotten the greenhouse finished this week. She'd had a chance to enjoy a few ales down at Caritas, too, which felt like something she couldn't quite get to as regularly as she used to, so that was nice.
And, if she just so happened to have found a certain mood there at the bottom of one of those mugs, well, she had a solution for that on hand as well. No fuss, no mushy stuff, just a simple solution and a good use of the pleasant buzz she'd built up. Built up enough to the point where she'd almost sent off her message to the wrong person just out of old habits (between the doors and the trebuchets and the balls being thrown at her, who could blame her, really?), but she caught herself and redirected things so they went to the right place.
Or, at the very least, the place more likely to yeild result at the moment.
Good night for a movie.
No, Amaya didn't even own a TV.
That was kind of the point.
[[lol, they had to find out eventually! NFB, if you please, and for the recipient of said text for great SP and probably awkwardly NSFW shenanigans ]]
And, if she just so happened to have found a certain mood there at the bottom of one of those mugs, well, she had a solution for that on hand as well. No fuss, no mushy stuff, just a simple solution and a good use of the pleasant buzz she'd built up. Built up enough to the point where she'd almost sent off her message to the wrong person just out of old habits (between the doors and the trebuchets and the balls being thrown at her, who could blame her, really?), but she caught herself and redirected things so they went to the right place.
Or, at the very least, the place more likely to yeild result at the moment.
Good night for a movie.
No, Amaya didn't even own a TV.
That was kind of the point.
[[lol, they had to find out eventually! NFB, if you please, and for the recipient of said text for great SP and probably awkwardly NSFW shenanigans ]]
Well. This had been a rather interesting turn of events, now, hasn't it? Not long after Seivarden had left the shop yesterday, the goblins finally took their opportunity to snag Amaya, once she was back on the roof and it would be a little harder for her to fight back. Because, with what they'd seen, she was definitely going to fight them back. And she did. She'd been pretty impressed with the pile of them that had accumulated from her tossing them right off the roof as quickly as she shook them off of her. But, unfortuntely, they had numbers on their side. There was just too many of them. Numbers wouldn't be a problem if she'd had the Crumbler, of course, but up here on the roof, there was only so much she could fend off.
And then there was the one who'd found that frying pan...
...the next thing Amaya knew, she'd woke up in her own bed and, for a moment, thought perhaps it was all just a dream. Of course it was. Her bed, stolen, while she was still in it? There was no way that would actually ever happen, that was absurd, she must had just imagined...it...all....
Slowly, Amaya was realizing that she was in her bed, sure, but she was hardly in her bedroom. In fact, she didn't know quite where she was, just that it was underground, subterrainiant, and she was imprisoned in a large (and surprisingl durable, she discovered) cage. With those rock-brained goblins nearby, apparently keeping a watch over her, and getting rather excited when she got up. Excited and...
...oh, zards, yup. No doubt about it, once she was up, those goblins were definitely flirting with her. One seemed to be giggling and making kissy noises and telling her garbled jokes, one looked like he was setting up a romatic sort of picnic dinner, one had even done a portrait of her that she was sure was meant to be flattering if you were a goblin.
Which she was not, nor did she have any interest in being one, despite what these little numbskulls seemed to think was going to happen!
Eventually, though, she exhausted herself out when it came to threats and trying to pull down the bars herself or trying to reach through them and hoping one of them had slipped up and gotten close enough for her to snatch him and demand to be released at the threat of violence, but no such luck. They seemed all too aware of exactly the length of Amaya's reach, and she was going hoarse with her shouting at them, but that only seemed to encourage them, as she realized that they seemed to be attracted to the low, gravelly tone of her voice.
Great.
Just great.
Amaya, glowering, dropped onto the mattress, folding her arms in front of her as she tried to think of some way to get out of this particularly unpleasant jam.
But, on the bright side, at least she found out who stole her bed, right? And she supposed it was sort of considerate of them, really, to include it for her in her cage, though she didn't much appreciate the suggestion that this meant they planned on having her staying long enough that she'd want to be good and comfortable. If only she could just figure out a way how...
[[ LOOK. Goblins stealing Amaya's bed while she's sleeping in it, and then kidnapping her, and then keeping her in a cage and trying to woo her because they're kind of in love with her is CANON, and I am going to continue to USE THE CRAP OUT OF IT. Mostly establishy, although expecting one, and I would certainly not be opposed to any other oubliette buddies who might stumble upon her and want to fight some enamoured goblins! ]]
[[also, I am definitey done spamming you all, I promise ]]
And then there was the one who'd found that frying pan...
...the next thing Amaya knew, she'd woke up in her own bed and, for a moment, thought perhaps it was all just a dream. Of course it was. Her bed, stolen, while she was still in it? There was no way that would actually ever happen, that was absurd, she must had just imagined...it...all....
Slowly, Amaya was realizing that she was in her bed, sure, but she was hardly in her bedroom. In fact, she didn't know quite where she was, just that it was underground, subterrainiant, and she was imprisoned in a large (and surprisingl durable, she discovered) cage. With those rock-brained goblins nearby, apparently keeping a watch over her, and getting rather excited when she got up. Excited and...
...oh, zards, yup. No doubt about it, once she was up, those goblins were definitely flirting with her. One seemed to be giggling and making kissy noises and telling her garbled jokes, one looked like he was setting up a romatic sort of picnic dinner, one had even done a portrait of her that she was sure was meant to be flattering if you were a goblin.
Which she was not, nor did she have any interest in being one, despite what these little numbskulls seemed to think was going to happen!
Eventually, though, she exhausted herself out when it came to threats and trying to pull down the bars herself or trying to reach through them and hoping one of them had slipped up and gotten close enough for her to snatch him and demand to be released at the threat of violence, but no such luck. They seemed all too aware of exactly the length of Amaya's reach, and she was going hoarse with her shouting at them, but that only seemed to encourage them, as she realized that they seemed to be attracted to the low, gravelly tone of her voice.
Great.
Just great.
Amaya, glowering, dropped onto the mattress, folding her arms in front of her as she tried to think of some way to get out of this particularly unpleasant jam.
But, on the bright side, at least she found out who stole her bed, right? And she supposed it was sort of considerate of them, really, to include it for her in her cage, though she didn't much appreciate the suggestion that this meant they planned on having her staying long enough that she'd want to be good and comfortable. If only she could just figure out a way how...
[[ LOOK. Goblins stealing Amaya's bed while she's sleeping in it, and then kidnapping her, and then keeping her in a cage and trying to woo her because they're kind of in love with her is CANON, and I am going to continue to USE THE CRAP OUT OF IT. Mostly establishy, although expecting one, and I would certainly not be opposed to any other oubliette buddies who might stumble upon her and want to fight some enamoured goblins! ]]
[[also, I am definitey done spamming you all, I promise ]]
