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The Reforging of Shulamit
Shulamit is filled with cracks from age, and asked Beloved Alary to help fix her. Alary agreed. We spent some time looking for a place, then waiting for me irl to eat. You can't fill your character full of molten gold on an empty stomach!
I also have posted several logs lately, but I like sharing things. A lot.
Holding out their hand, Blade Betwixt Ebon Veils, Alary al-Saaoud, the Culture Creature says, "So, the first step is we are going to put you to sleep. With dreamweaving, we should be able to keep you asleep if you submit to it. Second, we will use a dreamweaving skill that should force a pain block, or at least filter most of it out. The third step will be carefully molding the metal into the cracks and crevices. We were going to use a ladle of sorts, but we realized that perhaps our hands would be better suited to the task."
Glowing only a mildly concerned shade of orange, you ask, "Only if your hands are protected, yes yes?"
You have emoted: Shulamit stretches out on the ground, trying to make herself as flat as possible for some reason.
You think to yourself: If I'm flat, it will be easier to fill cracks.
You say, "And gold is likely for the best. The least amount of impurities and such in metals."
You think to yourself: Gold is also extremely shiny.
Alary continues, counting off on their fingers. "Before all of this we will melt the metal, do you still wish gold?" They glance around the room whilst they speak, "We think that this is where our Pyromancy will come in most handy."
Comprehension flashes across Alary's face.
Nodding thoughtfully, you say, "I do indeed!"
Blade Betwixt Ebon Veils, Alary al-Saaoud, the Culture Creature says, "Yes. We also believe our hands will be mostly, if not fully, protected by our own skills and merit."
Alary's body and features begin to melt like wax, then solidifies into a dracnari.
Comprehension flashes across your face.
You say, "Dracnari do have lovely hardened hands, do they not."
You say, "I will now remove my...undergarments. So you will not have to later."
clothes removed
Alary smirks.
Blade Betwixt Ebon Veils, Alary al-Saaoud, the Culture Creature says, "We used to dart around nude in our youth."
You say, "There were many in Serenwilde who went...moon clad."
You have emoted: Shulamit wrinkles her nose slightly.
You say, "I never minded it, but I like the appearance of clothing."
You say, "Also, as the cracks worsened, it covered more, and kept me warm."
Comprehension flashes across Alary's face.
Blade Betwixt Ebon Veils, Alary al-Saaoud, the Culture Creature says, "That's fair."
Blade Betwixt Ebon Veils, Alary al-Saaoud, the Culture Creature says, "We prefer to dance nude when we fire dance."
Alary glances askance.
Blade Betwixt Ebon Veils, Alary al-Saaoud, the Culture Creature says, "Regardless, please make sure you're able to submit to sleep, as that is the most crucial part of this."
Glowing a thoughtful blue colour, you say, "That makes sense. A lot of clothing is not fireproof."
You say, "I have throw all caution away."
You have emoted: Shulamit closes her eyes, glow becoming a muted off-white colour.
Alary ponders the situation.
Alary kneels down to the ground, dusting sand and debris away to settle a stack of gold bars. With a thud, they plop the bucket down next to the bars and begin to count out each bar, testing the weight and eying any impurities. When the chosen stack outnumbers the discard pile, they turn to the bucket and begin piling the bars within the sizable container. When the stack of bars reaches nearly the top of the bucket they reach down, taking the bucket in both hands, each hand grasping a side of the large bucket and begin to murmur incantations. Their hands flash swiftly with a brief fire before dying down, causing the iron to glow red, heat from the metal warping the air around it. As their murmuring ceases, the glow suffusing the bucket intensifies, and a distinct crackling sound is heard from the bucket.
You have emoted: Shulamit cracks her eyes briefly, looking at the glowing bucket with fascination and glowing a mild sense of crimson colour.
Alary steadies their hands to prevent any spillage, though the sloshing sound of molten gold is heard with the movement, they rest the bucket on the ground, choosing a location with tile to hold the heated surface. "That should stay warm enough for the moment, are you ready to sleep?" Their voice caries with it a calming tone, words effused with a lingering serenity, "We doubt this will take very long, but we wish to do it right."
You have emoted: Shulamit nods assuredly, glowing a determined shade of blue. "I'm ready, best child-in-law."
Alary smiles softly.
Your eyes droop and you cannot stop yourself from yawning.
You are afflicted with asleep.
You feel incredibly tired, and fall asleep immediately.
You open your eyes and stretch languidly, feeling deliciously well-rested.
You have cured asleep.
Alary glances askance.
You say, "Oh dear."
You say, "I did not do that."
You say, "I think, because...I am a demigoddess..."
You think to yourself: Wait, I have a mask of dreaming! Synl the saviour!
falling asleep spam
Alary slowly reaches over to wave hands over your head, hands splayed open as each pass they murmur softly to themselves, offering words of power that attempt to still the dreams and lull you into peaceful rest. When you has settled enough for near perfect stillness, their hands change movements from slow toward quick, near frantic as they weave illusionary threads to bind your limbs to the ground. Bodily prepartions complete, Alary leans forward to inspect each crack and crevice. Hands reach around as they speak quietly to themselves, noting which areas need more and how deeply the metal must sink to force a complete bonding. Gently fingers run over the deeper ones, feeling the uneven edges and nodding to themselves with each inspection. Once satisified, they rock back on their heels, glancing towards the bucket with a thoughtful smile.
Alary reaches towards the bucket, eye half-closing in thought as the pause. Swiftly, they speak words that cause small fires to alight on their arms and hands, flames sinking below their scales as they coat themselves in elemental fire. They then reach towards the bucket, lifting it into the air delicately, causing only small portions to slip out over the lip of the bucket. More words of power spoken and the bucket flares back to life, the outside reheating the gold. Carefully they set the bucket near their legs, expression scrunching up in thought. Carefully, slowly, they reach a hand into the bucket, testing their own fireproofing against that of molten gold. A single wince as the warmth penetrates their defenses, but no more. "Uncomfortable, but workable. Yes."
Alary scoops out of handful of liquid gold, carefully cupping their hand to keep the metal contained. They lean forward, letting tendrils of melted gold seep through their hands into the crevices of your legs, working there first. As the metal penetrates the crevices, they use their other hand to knead the metal in, working it so that the metal adheres to your flesh and knits the crevices together. They work quickly, carefully pouring new handfuls and working the metal between the crystal with their other hand. Alary carefully, delicately uses claws to work the metal into the smaller cracks, and wipes away any oozing remnants with a swift finger. Each section moves quickly, as they work against the quickly cooling metal.
Alary chuckles softly to themselves at the dream-mumbling, though they twitch slightly at the mention of Iklara.
Alary pauses as they reach your torso, surveying the deeper cracks and finer crevices. With a nod to no one in particular, they dip both hands into the bucket, scooping out a large amount of molten gold. Using their palm to pour gold into the deeper fractures, and their index claw as a sort of quill, they begin to work swiftly, kneading and nudging the metal into each crack, pausing only to survey their work and make small touch-ups before each plunge into the bucket. As they begin to move almost instinctively, the flow of the work and soothing sounds of the temple allowing them to become lost in the process. Each crevice filling with the gold, spiderwebs of cracks suffused with worked gold. They work outwards, bending down to work gold into the sides of your torso and arms, working upwards from the neck. Their hands move delicately, easing gold into the soft features of your face, taking extra care to sculpt the gold to match the curves of your face.
Alary glances around, leaning forward to check each and every crack. Sometimes taking the smallest amount of gold to fill in small missed areas, or using their claws to sculpt and shape the gold to your body. When each visible area has been thoroughly suffused with gold, they drag their hands against the edge of the bucket, scraping excess gold from their scales. After pausing only a brief moment to gather themselves, they mutter an incantation to release the illusory bonds on you. Carefully, single eye watching for any sign that the lucidian attempts to wake, they roll you over onto her back, straining slightly against the crystalline weight of their friend. When Alary finally manages to turn you completely over onto her stomach, they swiftly return to work.
Alary tiredly mutters more words, forcing those same illusory bonds to bind your limbs and torso to the ground, their face scrunched up in effort. More gold tossed into the bucket from the pile of selected bars. It takes a moment as their reserves start to deplete, but the bucket warms to a pliable temperature and the metal within reaches near liquid form. Hands plunge back into the bucket, scooping out fistfuls of gold to be worked into the crystalline body. They work more quickly, as the process is carefully repeated starting with your legs and working upwards. The speed comes from now experience, knowing where each crevice needs work and how much gold to use, thus having less to wipe away. Features are curved, sculpted with delicate yet attentive movements, making the gold match your body. When they finally finish the very crest of your head, Alary rocks back onto their heels, heaving a sigh. With a simple snap of their fingers, the room becomes colder, breath coming out in puffs against the chill air. The temperature allows the gold to set more quickly, hardening to the crystalline flesh and bonding the fractures together.
Alary tils their head to the side, before another snap of the fingers causes a torrent of rain to pour from nowhere, drenching both themselves and you in cooling water. With a roughened sleeve, they bend over to begin buffing out any impurities, forcing the gold to shine brightly against the crystal. After a few more moments of pause, they take another appraisal of their work, checking to ensure that no crack nor fracture has been missed or sloppily done. When they are satisified that all looks well, Alary leans forward to whisper an incantation in your ear, forcing wakefulness against the mystical sleep.
waking up spam
Alary chirps happily.
Blade Betwixt Ebon Veils, Alary al-Saaoud, the Culture Creature says to you, "How do you feel, any pain?"
You have emoted: Shulamit blinks groggily, attention turning towards Alary and her own body in turn. "Are you okay? Am I okay? I feel...good! Very warm. Like I was out in the desert. But not pain."
Alary nods their head emphatically.
Blade Betwixt Ebon Veils, Alary al-Saaoud, the Culture Creature says, "We're fine, a little tired but that's to be expected."
Alary smiles softly.
You have emoted: Shulamit looks over herself, fascinated with the gold that now lines her body. "This is beautiful work, beloved Alary friend!"
New Desc
The corners of Alary's mouth turn up as they grins mischievously.
Blade Betwixt Ebon Veils, Alary al-Saaoud, the Culture Creature says, "Good! We're glad!"
You have emoted: Shulamit stands up and hugs Alary deeply, sharing the warmth between the two of them. "You are a fine sculptor and hunter and many many things! I am so glad my son found you, yes yes!"
Alary smiles softly.
Blade Betwixt Ebon Veils, Alary al-Saaoud, the Culture Creature says, "We're glad it worked well, and that you like it!"
Joy suddenly washes over you in waves, your entire body glowing a cheerful shade of citrine yellow.
Glowing a cheerful citrine colour, you say, "I was nervous, but I trust you, and my trust has not failed!"
Thoughtfully, you say, "I should probably rest though. So should you! Or maybe hunt? Not me. You."
You have emoted: Shulamit waves her hands around, losing her words.
Blade Betwixt Ebon Veils, Alary al-Saaoud, the Culture Creature says, "Resting probably wouldn't hurt, yes. You'll let us know if you have any problems, yes? We don't foresee any concerns, but the sentiment remains."
You have emoted: Shulamit glances askance at the painting for a moment before gently pecking Alary's cheek. "Be well, Beloved friend. I will keep an eye on myself, yes yes!"
Alary hugs you compassionately.
Alary snickers softly to themself.
You have emoted: Shulamit stretches upwards, back cracking but no more fractures appearing.
You give Alary a peck on the cheek.
I also have posted several logs lately, but I like sharing things. A lot.
Holding out their hand, Blade Betwixt Ebon Veils, Alary al-Saaoud, the Culture Creature says, "So, the first step is we are going to put you to sleep. With dreamweaving, we should be able to keep you asleep if you submit to it. Second, we will use a dreamweaving skill that should force a pain block, or at least filter most of it out. The third step will be carefully molding the metal into the cracks and crevices. We were going to use a ladle of sorts, but we realized that perhaps our hands would be better suited to the task."
Glowing only a mildly concerned shade of orange, you ask, "Only if your hands are protected, yes yes?"
You have emoted: Shulamit stretches out on the ground, trying to make herself as flat as possible for some reason.
You think to yourself: If I'm flat, it will be easier to fill cracks.
You say, "And gold is likely for the best. The least amount of impurities and such in metals."
You think to yourself: Gold is also extremely shiny.
Alary continues, counting off on their fingers. "Before all of this we will melt the metal, do you still wish gold?" They glance around the room whilst they speak, "We think that this is where our Pyromancy will come in most handy."
Comprehension flashes across Alary's face.
Nodding thoughtfully, you say, "I do indeed!"
Blade Betwixt Ebon Veils, Alary al-Saaoud, the Culture Creature says, "Yes. We also believe our hands will be mostly, if not fully, protected by our own skills and merit."
Alary's body and features begin to melt like wax, then solidifies into a dracnari.
Comprehension flashes across your face.
You say, "Dracnari do have lovely hardened hands, do they not."
You say, "I will now remove my...undergarments. So you will not have to later."
clothes removed
Alary smirks.
Blade Betwixt Ebon Veils, Alary al-Saaoud, the Culture Creature says, "We used to dart around nude in our youth."
You say, "There were many in Serenwilde who went...moon clad."
You have emoted: Shulamit wrinkles her nose slightly.
You say, "I never minded it, but I like the appearance of clothing."
You say, "Also, as the cracks worsened, it covered more, and kept me warm."
Comprehension flashes across Alary's face.
Blade Betwixt Ebon Veils, Alary al-Saaoud, the Culture Creature says, "That's fair."
Blade Betwixt Ebon Veils, Alary al-Saaoud, the Culture Creature says, "We prefer to dance nude when we fire dance."
Alary glances askance.
Blade Betwixt Ebon Veils, Alary al-Saaoud, the Culture Creature says, "Regardless, please make sure you're able to submit to sleep, as that is the most crucial part of this."
Glowing a thoughtful blue colour, you say, "That makes sense. A lot of clothing is not fireproof."
You say, "I have throw all caution away."
You have emoted: Shulamit closes her eyes, glow becoming a muted off-white colour.
Alary ponders the situation.
Alary kneels down to the ground, dusting sand and debris away to settle a stack of gold bars. With a thud, they plop the bucket down next to the bars and begin to count out each bar, testing the weight and eying any impurities. When the chosen stack outnumbers the discard pile, they turn to the bucket and begin piling the bars within the sizable container. When the stack of bars reaches nearly the top of the bucket they reach down, taking the bucket in both hands, each hand grasping a side of the large bucket and begin to murmur incantations. Their hands flash swiftly with a brief fire before dying down, causing the iron to glow red, heat from the metal warping the air around it. As their murmuring ceases, the glow suffusing the bucket intensifies, and a distinct crackling sound is heard from the bucket.
You have emoted: Shulamit cracks her eyes briefly, looking at the glowing bucket with fascination and glowing a mild sense of crimson colour.
Alary steadies their hands to prevent any spillage, though the sloshing sound of molten gold is heard with the movement, they rest the bucket on the ground, choosing a location with tile to hold the heated surface. "That should stay warm enough for the moment, are you ready to sleep?" Their voice caries with it a calming tone, words effused with a lingering serenity, "We doubt this will take very long, but we wish to do it right."
You have emoted: Shulamit nods assuredly, glowing a determined shade of blue. "I'm ready, best child-in-law."
Alary smiles softly.
Your eyes droop and you cannot stop yourself from yawning.
You are afflicted with asleep.
You feel incredibly tired, and fall asleep immediately.
You open your eyes and stretch languidly, feeling deliciously well-rested.
You have cured asleep.
Alary glances askance.
You say, "Oh dear."
You say, "I did not do that."
You say, "I think, because...I am a demigoddess..."
You think to yourself: Wait, I have a mask of dreaming! Synl the saviour!
falling asleep spam
Alary slowly reaches over to wave hands over your head, hands splayed open as each pass they murmur softly to themselves, offering words of power that attempt to still the dreams and lull you into peaceful rest. When you has settled enough for near perfect stillness, their hands change movements from slow toward quick, near frantic as they weave illusionary threads to bind your limbs to the ground. Bodily prepartions complete, Alary leans forward to inspect each crack and crevice. Hands reach around as they speak quietly to themselves, noting which areas need more and how deeply the metal must sink to force a complete bonding. Gently fingers run over the deeper ones, feeling the uneven edges and nodding to themselves with each inspection. Once satisified, they rock back on their heels, glancing towards the bucket with a thoughtful smile.
Alary reaches towards the bucket, eye half-closing in thought as the pause. Swiftly, they speak words that cause small fires to alight on their arms and hands, flames sinking below their scales as they coat themselves in elemental fire. They then reach towards the bucket, lifting it into the air delicately, causing only small portions to slip out over the lip of the bucket. More words of power spoken and the bucket flares back to life, the outside reheating the gold. Carefully they set the bucket near their legs, expression scrunching up in thought. Carefully, slowly, they reach a hand into the bucket, testing their own fireproofing against that of molten gold. A single wince as the warmth penetrates their defenses, but no more. "Uncomfortable, but workable. Yes."
Alary scoops out of handful of liquid gold, carefully cupping their hand to keep the metal contained. They lean forward, letting tendrils of melted gold seep through their hands into the crevices of your legs, working there first. As the metal penetrates the crevices, they use their other hand to knead the metal in, working it so that the metal adheres to your flesh and knits the crevices together. They work quickly, carefully pouring new handfuls and working the metal between the crystal with their other hand. Alary carefully, delicately uses claws to work the metal into the smaller cracks, and wipes away any oozing remnants with a swift finger. Each section moves quickly, as they work against the quickly cooling metal.
Alary chuckles softly to themselves at the dream-mumbling, though they twitch slightly at the mention of Iklara.
Alary pauses as they reach your torso, surveying the deeper cracks and finer crevices. With a nod to no one in particular, they dip both hands into the bucket, scooping out a large amount of molten gold. Using their palm to pour gold into the deeper fractures, and their index claw as a sort of quill, they begin to work swiftly, kneading and nudging the metal into each crack, pausing only to survey their work and make small touch-ups before each plunge into the bucket. As they begin to move almost instinctively, the flow of the work and soothing sounds of the temple allowing them to become lost in the process. Each crevice filling with the gold, spiderwebs of cracks suffused with worked gold. They work outwards, bending down to work gold into the sides of your torso and arms, working upwards from the neck. Their hands move delicately, easing gold into the soft features of your face, taking extra care to sculpt the gold to match the curves of your face.
Alary glances around, leaning forward to check each and every crack. Sometimes taking the smallest amount of gold to fill in small missed areas, or using their claws to sculpt and shape the gold to your body. When each visible area has been thoroughly suffused with gold, they drag their hands against the edge of the bucket, scraping excess gold from their scales. After pausing only a brief moment to gather themselves, they mutter an incantation to release the illusory bonds on you. Carefully, single eye watching for any sign that the lucidian attempts to wake, they roll you over onto her back, straining slightly against the crystalline weight of their friend. When Alary finally manages to turn you completely over onto her stomach, they swiftly return to work.
Alary tiredly mutters more words, forcing those same illusory bonds to bind your limbs and torso to the ground, their face scrunched up in effort. More gold tossed into the bucket from the pile of selected bars. It takes a moment as their reserves start to deplete, but the bucket warms to a pliable temperature and the metal within reaches near liquid form. Hands plunge back into the bucket, scooping out fistfuls of gold to be worked into the crystalline body. They work more quickly, as the process is carefully repeated starting with your legs and working upwards. The speed comes from now experience, knowing where each crevice needs work and how much gold to use, thus having less to wipe away. Features are curved, sculpted with delicate yet attentive movements, making the gold match your body. When they finally finish the very crest of your head, Alary rocks back onto their heels, heaving a sigh. With a simple snap of their fingers, the room becomes colder, breath coming out in puffs against the chill air. The temperature allows the gold to set more quickly, hardening to the crystalline flesh and bonding the fractures together.
Alary tils their head to the side, before another snap of the fingers causes a torrent of rain to pour from nowhere, drenching both themselves and you in cooling water. With a roughened sleeve, they bend over to begin buffing out any impurities, forcing the gold to shine brightly against the crystal. After a few more moments of pause, they take another appraisal of their work, checking to ensure that no crack nor fracture has been missed or sloppily done. When they are satisified that all looks well, Alary leans forward to whisper an incantation in your ear, forcing wakefulness against the mystical sleep.
waking up spam
Alary chirps happily.
Blade Betwixt Ebon Veils, Alary al-Saaoud, the Culture Creature says to you, "How do you feel, any pain?"
You have emoted: Shulamit blinks groggily, attention turning towards Alary and her own body in turn. "Are you okay? Am I okay? I feel...good! Very warm. Like I was out in the desert. But not pain."
Alary nods their head emphatically.
Blade Betwixt Ebon Veils, Alary al-Saaoud, the Culture Creature says, "We're fine, a little tired but that's to be expected."
Alary smiles softly.
You have emoted: Shulamit looks over herself, fascinated with the gold that now lines her body. "This is beautiful work, beloved Alary friend!"
New Desc
She is a crystalline lucidian iridescent demigoddess and is tinted a soft, muted blue colour that appears to be only skin deep. Faint whorls and eddies can be seen within the blue colouring, making it appear to have been painted on with precise strokes of a master hand. Criss-crossing lines of gold spiderweb across her body, filling in ancient cracks and scars. The artwork is apparent within the golden workings, having been placed with hands more delicate than she possesses. The gold glows faintly, hinting at inner power and warmth. Thick, soporific smoke trickles out of the corners of her mouth and nose, before dissipating on the wind. Tarnished divine script runs along her throat, spelling out ancient and forgotten hymns to the Shofet. Her skin is smooth of the crystal spikes normally seen on lucidians, save for a ring that circles her head like a crown. Her eyes are an ebon black colour, faint pin pricks of light seen deep within as though there are distant stars and galaxies within.
(I will work on this over time still)
The corners of Alary's mouth turn up as they grins mischievously.
Blade Betwixt Ebon Veils, Alary al-Saaoud, the Culture Creature says, "Good! We're glad!"
You have emoted: Shulamit stands up and hugs Alary deeply, sharing the warmth between the two of them. "You are a fine sculptor and hunter and many many things! I am so glad my son found you, yes yes!"
Alary smiles softly.
Blade Betwixt Ebon Veils, Alary al-Saaoud, the Culture Creature says, "We're glad it worked well, and that you like it!"
Joy suddenly washes over you in waves, your entire body glowing a cheerful shade of citrine yellow.
Glowing a cheerful citrine colour, you say, "I was nervous, but I trust you, and my trust has not failed!"
Thoughtfully, you say, "I should probably rest though. So should you! Or maybe hunt? Not me. You."
You have emoted: Shulamit waves her hands around, losing her words.
Blade Betwixt Ebon Veils, Alary al-Saaoud, the Culture Creature says, "Resting probably wouldn't hurt, yes. You'll let us know if you have any problems, yes? We don't foresee any concerns, but the sentiment remains."
You have emoted: Shulamit glances askance at the painting for a moment before gently pecking Alary's cheek. "Be well, Beloved friend. I will keep an eye on myself, yes yes!"
Alary hugs you compassionately.
Alary snickers softly to themself.
You have emoted: Shulamit stretches upwards, back cracking but no more fractures appearing.
You give Alary a peck on the cheek.
Bookbinder by trade! Designer of most other things.
6
(c) Iron Realms Entertainment 2012.
Comments
It’s easy to be cruel without meaning to be. There’s nothing you can do about that. But you can choose to be kind. Be kind.’