saffron wind

[golden_anvil]

Not everyone walks calmly into the streets of the Nexus. Not everyone is so distracted as to not see when the stones shift and the shops and buildings aren’t quite the same. She’s staring down into a sketchbook in her hands and muttering to herself for a fair distance before it even occurs to her to look up. Light brown eyes peer out from a mess of dark curls pinned up around her shoulders. She purses her lips in some amount of confusion and looks to her left, her right, and finally turns about in a small circle.

This stocky stranger traces her gaze over the various buildings as she slowly closes the sketchbook and returns it to a satchel strung across her shoulder by a long strap. After a moment of taking in her surroundings, she nods quietly and sighs. She shifts two things strapped across her back and shoulders: a satchel bag and a large pole with one end wrapped up in cloth. In less than a minute, she has the bag slung around her shoulders and over her back in the style of a backpack. The pole finds it’s way into her hands, the covered end pointing upward as she turns in a slow circle.

“This is…different.” Her voice is soft and deep, but quickly taking on a worried tone. The pole rests in the crook of one arm as she gathers up her skirt to tie off around her waist. Her leather sandals gently hug her all the way up to her knees. “All right, I’ll bite. Who did I offend this time?”

Comments

[pirateangelbaby]

"It would have," Thor agrees, a little wistful. One of the ravens hops off his shoulder, climbing down the front of his hoodie, and he absently raises his arms to hold it like one might cradle an affectionate cat, lightly scratching fluffy neck feathers with his artificial hand. The fingers move as smoothly as flesh ones would, well articulated and gentle. "Perhaps if there's a Nidavellir out there in the Nexus somewhere that still stands, you could arrange such a contest. In my world, its days are at an end, unfortunately."

[golden_anvil]

Her expression softens a little to hear that the days of competitive crafting are over anywhere. What a misery to live in a world where one cannot see such sights such as Dwarven smithing in action! "That arm... Goodness, but he put a great deal of love into it. even your beautiful birds recognize it as a proper part of your form." She sighs. "I will find a forge here, come what may. You deserve to see the real deal at work."

[pirateangelbaby]

"Oh, I watched him forge it," Thor assures her. "I had to be there for the fitting, you see. The volcano was an interesting touch; Nidavellir was constructed around a neutron star, itself."

Her comments on his arm does make him close the fingers self-consciously, flexing the hand into a gentle fist. A part of him... yes, it is, isn't it. Not an entirely happy thought, but one that does not last long, as the raven in his arm complains and pecks at his hand to get him stroking those neck feathers again.

"So," Thor says, perhaps a hair too brightly, "are you meant to take over the family business, then?"

[golden_anvil]

"I should hope to inherit it! I'm his oldest daughter that he didn't forge with a goddess. I know that smithy of his like the details of the shield of Achilles. Whatever I see, whatever I can take apart, I can easily re-create with my own two hands."

It's a bit of a boast, but she also sincerely believes what she says. She puffs out her chest a little as she speaks.

"Moving toys are my favorite things to make. I could fill a whole desk with beautiful toys made entirely from scrap."

[pirateangelbaby]

She's certainly proud and self-assured, that much is clear. Thor certainly hopes she comes by it honestly, and he hasn't seen any reason to doubt that as of yet. Her boast brings a small smile to his face, a glint of interest in his eye. "Oh? What sort of toys do you craft?"