[It's not an invitation any member of his family would write, but it tells enough information. Taryon heads to the elevator and makes his way to the library with his own set of tools, include a set of screws and a thick pencil.]
[ That they are! Always will be, too. But it's fine. ]
You're well-prepared.
[ Maybe he'll be able to show that off, too... for now, Siffrin'll push the palm-sized (not their palm size, Tary's palm size) block of wood at him, and small knife after, picking up their own as well. ]
... My Craft, the way I learned it, is best done with something to direct it. Like a dagger, or a carving knife. A sharpening stone. Things like that. So while you whittle down the edges, you'll ask it to come out nice with every shaving taken off. Because the knife knows how to carve better than you or I do.
[ Like it's a living, breathing thing, and not simple magic. ]
Alright. [He turns the block of wood in his hand. It's all the same, no matter the angle he views it at.] And how do I ask it politely? I get begging a machine to work right...
[First, a practice stroke. He holds the knife's blade, his thumb on the handle, to slice of a small corner of the block. He's read about proper woodcarving techniques, but he hasn't had much practice.
He gives it a little flick, and a sliver of wood flies off.]
... It sort of comes naturally, to me... but my family members say I mumble a lot when I do it. I didn't realize it, though. Stuff like "please come out okay" and all.
Easy enough. [Until he puts his knife to the block once more, and his mind blanks on what to exactly say.] ...Don't nick me. [He peels off a few more chips.]
Well, it won't nick him! Whether it's because of the care, or because the knife makes sure to avoid his fingers, it won't nick him once. Siffrin smiles at Taryon's going along with it and starts to carve at the wood in their own hand, lapsing into silence.
What should he carve? A cat, maybe... or a bird. A bird would be nice, one that goes "peeoo" like in Dormont. Peeoo, peeoo. Round and friendly...
It'll be quiet unless Taryon makes conversation, but. Eventually. There is the quiet mumble from across the table, thoughtless as Siffrin gently carves down the wood: ]
Please come out okay, please come out okay, please come out okay... Don't be jagged, don't be jagged, don't be jagged... Round, round, round...
[Ensuring that the wood block turns out human-shaped is more critical than speaking to it, and Taryon forgets to recite the "spell" while he adjusts his hold and the knife. Siffrin's voice reminds him to do the same.]
Don't nick me, don't nick me, don't nick me... [It doesn't feel like magic, but he has to go along with this for his friend's sake. While muttering to himself, he stops his knife - his thumb is pretty close to the path of the blade. At least saying that out loud has him on the lookout for dangerous positions.[
[ Whether it's Craft, whether it's caution, it does work. The bird forms, rough and round. Gently Siffrin wedges dimension into its form: the folded wings, the innocent eyes, the parted beak.
Mumbling, mumbling, mumbling. A little prayer for the knife to move as it sees fit, as it needs to through the soft wood, without incident and without difficulty.
At last, though Taryon's will undoubtedly take longer, Siffrin carefully smooths out the harsher edges with slow carves of the blade in hand and sets the bird down. It is adorable, and could do with a good polish and finish, but he hadn't been able to find what was need with the weather being as it was.
(... Whew. It looks good, like it should. You did well.)
Onto watching the other. Very quiet, don't mind them just be focused. ]
[The first edge has a smooth curve where the neck would be, then the second, then the third and fourth. This fellow should be in armor, heavy one that protects his neck. It will be easier to carve than a sharp angle where the shoulder joins it.
Taryon changes his tactic while he smoothes out the upper torso.] Shallow cut, shallow cut, shallow cut... [His hubris has set a high standard for the detail in the armor. All hope for adding identifying details as to which fictional character it's based odd of is gone, but the basic shape of the man's outer wear is whittled into shape.
Next are the legs, which are just a simple rectangle.] You know, [He says as he holds out the half-finished piece for inspection.] I should've started with something simpler.
[ Siffrin huffs a soft laugh, shaking his head. Maybe, but... sometimes a challenge is a good thing. That Taryon wanted to try something difficult, but more than that a person--
King Paragon, from one of my favorite series. He lived in the woods under a false name for years before taking up the sword and joining the heroes. [He resumes work on shaping something resemble arms attached alone the man's sides.] I had LILITH bring me those books a while back, so I thought, why not have a figurine? The do that all the time with fictional characters here.
These are books. There's a lot more reading involved. [It's fantasy Tolkien. Siffrin will be busy for a long, long time.] But I wouldn't mind if you return them in good condition.
[ YESSSSSSSSS BUSY FOR A LONG TIME READING LET'S GOOOOOOO!!!!!!! ]
I promise, I will. They'll be in better condition than you left them.
[ Mostly because Siffrin will be sure to imbue them with a little Craft magic to ensure their longevity as thanks for allowing him to read... all the library books have it in his world, it's easy to do. ]
[As Taryon continues his work, the man's figure takes better shape: he seems to have a beard, and his stiff posture could be interpreted as regal. He has no weapon (too complicated), and a square base has been left to better stand him on a desk.]
He looks just about done. What do you think? I was thinking of carving a few words at the bottom, if you have a better knife for that.
[ Sylvan... a new language. He'll take the figurine with care, looking King Paragorn over and then settling with the good king in hand. Being ambidextrous has its charms. Like now. ]
No, it's the language that Paragorn speaks. He also speaks Common, like the rest of the book, but a lot of the lore is in Sylvan.
[A pause.]
There are translations in the index. He marries an elf, and it just makes sense to... [He waves a hand, gesturing vaguely towards the wood.] Well. It's a fitting language for the setting, let's leave it at that.
Doty- [Taryon starts before he remembers his automaton sidekick isn't here to handle the writing while he's putting finishing touches on the carving.
He opens a drawing program on his implant and traces out the Sylvan inscription before sending it to Siffrin. It's not as elegant as one written by hand, but the lines are clear and simple.] I sent you over the message system. I keep forgetting that paper's not that common around here.
Siffrin doesn't think they'll ever get used to that. On the other hand, the day Loop contacts them through it is the day everyone learns a new expression on Siffrin's face. ]
It's pretty weird. I've never really... dealt with... someone in my mind like that, [ until the loops began, ] so it surprises me every time.
[ ... ]
I don't really like it.
[ Plainly put. But the drawing is easy enough to follow, and Siffrin practices with a finger against the table's wood while Taryon finishes up. Pretty and elegant. ]
You never get used to a Message spell unless you've lived with it for a year. [It's not all that strange: he had an earring back home that could tap into his friends' sets so they can communicate across a battlefield.] I still prefer handwritten notes when I have the opportunity.
[As Siffrin practices their commission, Taryon scrapes off remaining lumps and unsightly blemishes until there's a human-shaped figure with an approximation of a serious expression. He holds it out.] That should do it.
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Siffrin?
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[ A small nod to him...! Hello, companion. Oh, he's got stuff too, Siffrin's peering curiously at them. ]
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It's what I usually have on me in case I need to build something.
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You're well-prepared.
[ Maybe he'll be able to show that off, too... for now, Siffrin'll push the palm-sized (not their palm size, Tary's palm size) block of wood at him, and small knife after, picking up their own as well. ]
... My Craft, the way I learned it, is best done with something to direct it. Like a dagger, or a carving knife. A sharpening stone. Things like that. So while you whittle down the edges, you'll ask it to come out nice with every shaving taken off. Because the knife knows how to carve better than you or I do.
[ Like it's a living, breathing thing, and not simple magic. ]
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[First, a practice stroke. He holds the knife's blade, his thumb on the handle, to slice of a small corner of the block. He's read about proper woodcarving techniques, but he hasn't had much practice.
He gives it a little flick, and a sliver of wood flies off.]
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well.) ]
... It sort of comes naturally, to me... but my family members say I mumble a lot when I do it. I didn't realize it, though. Stuff like "please come out okay" and all.
[ It is a bit like begging. For them. ]
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[Normal?]
Easy enough. [Until he puts his knife to the block once more, and his mind blanks on what to exactly say.] ...Don't nick me. [He peels off a few more chips.]
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Well, it won't nick him! Whether it's because of the care, or because the knife makes sure to avoid his fingers, it won't nick him once. Siffrin smiles at Taryon's going along with it and starts to carve at the wood in their own hand, lapsing into silence.
What should he carve? A cat, maybe... or a bird. A bird would be nice, one that goes "peeoo" like in Dormont. Peeoo, peeoo. Round and friendly...
It'll be quiet unless Taryon makes conversation, but. Eventually. There is the quiet mumble from across the table, thoughtless as Siffrin gently carves down the wood: ]
Please come out okay, please come out okay, please come out okay... Don't be jagged, don't be jagged, don't be jagged... Round, round, round...
[ ...
Always in threes... ]
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Don't nick me, don't nick me, don't nick me... [It doesn't feel like magic, but he has to go along with this for his friend's sake. While muttering to himself, he stops his knife - his thumb is pretty close to the path of the blade. At least saying that out loud has him on the lookout for dangerous positions.[
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Mumbling, mumbling, mumbling. A little prayer for the knife to move as it sees fit, as it needs to through the soft wood, without incident and without difficulty.
At last, though Taryon's will undoubtedly take longer, Siffrin carefully smooths out the harsher edges with slow carves of the blade in hand and sets the bird down. It is adorable, and could do with a good polish and finish, but he hadn't been able to find what was need with the weather being as it was.
(... Whew. It looks good, like it should. You did well.)
Onto watching the other. Very quiet, don't mind them just be focused. ]
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Taryon changes his tactic while he smoothes out the upper torso.] Shallow cut, shallow cut, shallow cut... [His hubris has set a high standard for the detail in the armor. All hope for adding identifying details as to which fictional character it's based odd of is gone, but the basic shape of the man's outer wear is whittled into shape.
Next are the legs, which are just a simple rectangle.] You know, [He says as he holds out the half-finished piece for inspection.] I should've started with something simpler.
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They must be important somehow. ]
Who is it?
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... Almost. King Paragon could remember who he was, probably.) ]
Can I read them sometime? I like adventure stories a lot, but usually as plays.
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I promise, I will. They'll be in better condition than you left them.
[ Mostly because Siffrin will be sure to imbue them with a little Craft magic to ensure their longevity as thanks for allowing him to read... all the library books have it in his world, it's easy to do. ]
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He looks just about done. What do you think? I was thinking of carving a few words at the bottom, if you have a better knife for that.
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[ With their more experienced hand. ]
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[Having it carved in the language of the elves and the Fey will make it way more legitimate and recognizable.]
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Your native tongue?
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[A pause.]
There are translations in the index. He marries an elf, and it just makes sense to... [He waves a hand, gesturing vaguely towards the wood.] Well. It's a fitting language for the setting, let's leave it at that.
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I like that. Go ahead and pen it down for me, then, I'll carve it for you.
[ Like
Siffrin does not have a pen here, but that is Taryon's problem now. ]
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He opens a drawing program on his implant and traces out the Sylvan inscription before sending it to Siffrin. It's not as elegant as one written by hand, but the lines are clear and simple.] I sent you over the message system. I keep forgetting that paper's not that common around here.
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Siffrin doesn't think they'll ever get used to that. On the other hand, the day Loop contacts them through it is the day everyone learns a new expression on Siffrin's face. ]
It's pretty weird. I've never really... dealt with... someone in my mind like that, [ until the loops began, ] so it surprises me every time.
[ ... ]
I don't really like it.
[ Plainly put. But the drawing is easy enough to follow, and Siffrin practices with a finger against the table's wood while Taryon finishes up. Pretty and elegant. ]
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[As Siffrin practices their commission, Taryon scrapes off remaining lumps and unsightly blemishes until there's a human-shaped figure with an approximation of a serious expression. He holds it out.] That should do it.
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