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farsickness2020-03-30 08:37 pm
darksmokerising) wrote in farsickness2020-03-30 08:37 pm
Be careful what you wish for, it might make you happy...
WHO: Merlan Margret O'Keefe | SPN
WHEN: Catchall for: April
WHAT: Monthly Buncha Tags
WHERE: Tavern/Inn, Stables (getting her a badass blue roan), Vasari area (clearing out shitheads), and definitely enroute to check out Roselake because why the fuck not? It sounds pretty cool.
WARNINGS: There's cussing??? Angel wings, maybe. Pew pew things?
NOTE: Please maketh use of a header so I know wtf you are. Prose preferred!
A. TAVERN/INN
[2+ weeks of arrival ]
So much had happened since she'd been dropped here and her scramble to adapt to the situation had been like some of the drops she'd had with Micah. Painful lessons in survival - only she had things to trade, things to cure, and she adapted to her environment like shedding a skin. Never one to shit flip, magic filled in much of her modern needs and with skills that had always welcomed challenge, she imparted them to others.
Sitting here, now, a knee crossed in a half lit booth, she had asked for something harder than pisswater beer and had gotten something that probably resembled fairly decent whiskey. On the rocks wasn't an option. Merlan had very covertly made her own tetrahedron chunks of ice and frowned at the singer getting harped (ha!) on. Her cloak hid most of her face as she slipped out her lute and picked notes around the words and melody to help them out. She unconsciously reached out to bolster their confidence, weaving and embellishing as she went. It wasn't a terrible voice at all, they just needed a touch of confidence and someone to help with accompaniment.
"There now," she murmured, setting her instrument down at the end of the song. "I can't stand it when people are arseholes just to be arseholes. Everyone starts somewhere and that was a fine bit."
Traveling solo or with a group, whatever goes. Fighting shit, eating shit, learning shit.
Still traveling on.
Merlan was in the back of the tavern watching the clientele, a small lute, its wood varnished in deep wood nestled in its soft straps treated suede. Her fingers strayed to it and the heavy looking bag at her hip. Her coin purse was in there, so were the medicines and potions she'd made up from the help of her own knowledge and a very helpful book she'd gotten at a herbalist's shop. Local plants were foreign, so having the knowledge to start with and then experiment with was worth her time.
That book and a blank new Hunter journal/tome had eaten into almost all her savings and to get that back had made her feel absolutely miserable for a while. Ditching her modern clothes had been her first order of business and earning enough to get daily clothing in more of a men's style that afforded her more movement was something she had to work with the tailor on. Also, hidden pockets. He'd said those were fun to make. And then she was broke.
Until she found the badly broken lute. A little twist of words, a soft, pleasant hum of magic, and the strings united, the wood strengthened and did what it wanted with its colour and pattern. When she'd come back with tea, it was an almost cobalt shade of blue and the intricate inlaid knots of natural and blue had turned into a flight of raven-type creatures that perched and flew here and there. Magic lutes, she found, were really rather lovely. When she wasn't doing things like fixing roofs in Gazin, or hunting things - sometimes for food, sometimes because they were trying to eat people - she was busy with potions and figuring out how her lute worked. Making and selling potions seemed the be the route for quick coin and she had really begun to collect on in. A bit of magic used here and there never hurt, she saw to it well. Favours got her things with far more consistency than coin.
Until she found the badly broken lute. A little twist of words, a soft, pleasant hum of magic, and the strings united, the wood strengthened and did what it wanted with its colour and pattern. When she'd come back with tea, it was an almost cobalt shade of blue and the intricate inlaid knots of natural and blue had turned into a flight of raven-type creatures that perched and flew here and there. Magic lutes, she found, were really rather lovely. When she wasn't doing things like fixing roofs in Gazin, or hunting things - sometimes for food, sometimes because they were trying to eat people - she was busy with potions and figuring out how her lute worked. Making and selling potions seemed the be the route for quick coin and she had really begun to collect on in. A bit of magic used here and there never hurt, she saw to it well. Favours got her things with far more consistency than coin.
So much had happened since she'd been dropped here and her scramble to adapt to the situation had been like some of the drops she'd had with Micah. Painful lessons in survival - only she had things to trade, things to cure, and she adapted to her environment like shedding a skin. Never one to shit flip, magic filled in much of her modern needs and with skills that had always welcomed challenge, she imparted them to others.
Sitting here, now, a knee crossed in a half lit booth, she had asked for something harder than pisswater beer and had gotten something that probably resembled fairly decent whiskey. On the rocks wasn't an option. Merlan had very covertly made her own tetrahedron chunks of ice and frowned at the singer getting harped (ha!) on. Her cloak hid most of her face as she slipped out her lute and picked notes around the words and melody to help them out. She unconsciously reached out to bolster their confidence, weaving and embellishing as she went. It wasn't a terrible voice at all, they just needed a touch of confidence and someone to help with accompaniment.
"There now," she murmured, setting her instrument down at the end of the song. "I can't stand it when people are arseholes just to be arseholes. Everyone starts somewhere and that was a fine bit."
B. STABLES
[ 3+ weeks of arrival ]
Getting the right horse for your needs both as a companion and a warrior requires more than a favour, it requires someone who knows horses. As for Merlan, she'd seen that massive blue roan in the back pasture, his strides long, his dark tufted legs beautiful as they had been when she was fixing up the one going colic a bit ago. She had yet to meet the lad but there was a nice zing in the air when he stopped showing off. Good thing she had enough to kit him out properly like the king he was.
Yet again, she'd probably be broke. It was a struggle filled in by music or song or arrows.
She frowned.
"Well shit," she said, walking into the stables proper and squinting beneath a hat that had seen way better days. "I should have gotten a fucking sword."
Yet again, she'd probably be broke. It was a struggle filled in by music or song or arrows.
She frowned.
"Well shit," she said, walking into the stables proper and squinting beneath a hat that had seen way better days. "I should have gotten a fucking sword."
C. VASARI
[ 4+ weeks of arrival ]
Traveling solo or with a group, whatever goes. Fighting shit, eating shit, learning shit.
D. ON THE ROAD: ROSELAKE
[ 4+ weeks of arrival ]
Still traveling on.
no subject
Merlan looked about as they walked, taking in her surroundings, noticing details, the scents and sounds, listening for that unique ringing sound of the anvil.
"What shall we make first?" she asked when they arrived, taking a moment to warm herself and neatly secure her hair back. It mattered little how hot the forge and surrounding area was, it felt really good to her.
no subject
"Indeed. I think that is most of why magic uses resort to the word magic. It is hard to explain to those who have not gone through it."
Looking around, he discarded his robe, revealing only jeans below it, and sandals which he discarded as well, to one side. His torso was scarred, tattooed, and angular, long, and lean, but muscular. It had been a long life.
"If you need them, there is a sports bra and such in the side room. There have been occasionally other women smiths here."
As to her question, he nodded. "I believe the tools would be a good start, then a basic anvil we can carry. That way if we need to, we can move that and the tools to the woods, and then use those to build the rest in place."
He glanced up at her. "What say you?"
no subject
With another light tug to make sure her hair stayed put, she was ready to get to work.
"Whatever the weight of anvil, I can carry it," she added, her eyebrow arching. "It's a simple process of mind over matter."
no subject
He grinned lopsidedly at her, then shook his head. "New world, new rules. We know not where and when our power will work. best to use muscles where we can, and save the magic for more fun and needed things." He waggled a finger at her.
no subject
"Now, now," Merlan grumbled. "Test at least a few times to make sure things work or don't otherwise you'll never know what does exactly what."
She made a face at him, released his finger, and stretched, rolling her shoulders to limber up. Her eyebrows arched and she realised she was bouncing a little on the balls of her feet just a little with impatience. They had things to be making and hard work ahead of them. Merlan would work until they were done properly, that old fascination and need to plow into a project was in full swing, now.
She stood there for a while, all study and concentration, mapping out each dimension of each tool, letting the images and then handling each with her eyes closed to get the heft into her mind and the feel of them into her arm. Too, there was something of the maker in them that made her smile and the let out a satisfied sigh as Merlan turned back to Merlin.
"Tools first, then anvil, and after that, we'll see what I can and cannot lift." She wasn't precisely in a hurry but she wanted dearly to find her stride in it, so in her eagerness, she reached out to gently bump up against his mind. The contact was very brief and certainly not enough to do anything but establish that she was ready and, well, chomping at the bit. A corner of her mind said she should have done something with her horse but it was fleeting and she was solidly focused on their project.
no subject
"Yes. I think that sounds like a good order, milady." He gently bumped her mind in turn, warmth and a feeling of age beyond age in the mind that gently touched hers back.
"We can work until sundown, then we will need to stop. I promised my lady that I would be home at a reasonable hour this evening." His grin was warm and gentle as he mentioned Emma, and he nodded to Merlan.
"So work we shall!"
no subject
The regular even timing and shaping put her at ease, smoothing any worries or concerns or thoughts beyond the tools they were making from her mind. Merlin having a companion was really quite lovely and she looked forward to meeting her at some point. In her work, Merlan rarely paused, perhaps stopping once and a while for water, but as she fashioned this or that by the wizard's side she sang lilting Enochian, Norse, Irish, or Old and Middle English songs. They all seemed to fit different parts of the work at different times. There was care, love, ad heart put into each process.
And there was nothing more besides that, though she might have worked into the night if it hadn't been for Merlin's bit about sundown. When it did come, she found herself unknotting her neck and shoulder knots, wishing for a long soak in a bath as she looked over their progress.
"Good work for the day," she said, working herself back into her overshirt and belting it. Merlan still had most of her things in her pack and would ease some of her soreness with herb and liberal stretching. "I'm not sure where I'll be staying the night. Probably outside the town for the savings. Wish your lady well for me?"