Hotaru
Hotaru laughs softly, conceding the point. "That's probably true, maybe I'll save my fabric." His compelling nature is something she envies, but it's something she has also accepted. A bittersweet realization perhaps, to know that his eye will always be caught by others, and that others would be spellbound by his mere presence in return.
Perhaps she really does treat him too well, and she gives a soft huff of amusement as he points it out. "Maybe so. But you shouldn't question it or I'll take it back," the woman points out, tapping a finger against the glass she has slid his way playfully. Though his own offering is favorably accepted, reaching out to test the stickiness of the mixture with a light touch of her finger. It passes her muster, and so she reaches for the metal bits she had pulled out, summoning lightning to her hands and pressing them to the metal. It crackles and hums ominously, so she keeps it away from the man leaning against the table at her side.
As it heats up she begins to mold it, grabbing and shaping it like it's particularly stubborn bread dough until it begins to take shape into a cylindrical base. Using the tar mix she attaches the ends together for lack of any kind of welding option. The heated metal and the tar help it stick together, and she places it back onto the table to let it cool. Which is particularly good timing as Sunjata poses a question her way.
"Colors of blues, coppers, and browns," she replies softly. "Metals and crafted wires. Sea glass and polished bones." Sighing softly she gently touches one such bone, a soft ivory, the best she could mimic of the tusks he had once had. "He was a magnificent crafter, with a harsh exterior and yet the most genuine heart I've ever known. He had eyes like mine - blue and brown - and often worked with metal to create amazing machines. Everyone mistook him for a beastly sort because of his appearance..." taking in a breath she blinks away the sting of her eye. "But he was so gentle, and had so much love to give." Swallowing roughly she clears her throat and gives a weak smile towards Sunjata. "It's not easy to capture. But I'm going to try."
Perhaps she really does treat him too well, and she gives a soft huff of amusement as he points it out. "Maybe so. But you shouldn't question it or I'll take it back," the woman points out, tapping a finger against the glass she has slid his way playfully. Though his own offering is favorably accepted, reaching out to test the stickiness of the mixture with a light touch of her finger. It passes her muster, and so she reaches for the metal bits she had pulled out, summoning lightning to her hands and pressing them to the metal. It crackles and hums ominously, so she keeps it away from the man leaning against the table at her side.
As it heats up she begins to mold it, grabbing and shaping it like it's particularly stubborn bread dough until it begins to take shape into a cylindrical base. Using the tar mix she attaches the ends together for lack of any kind of welding option. The heated metal and the tar help it stick together, and she places it back onto the table to let it cool. Which is particularly good timing as Sunjata poses a question her way.
"Colors of blues, coppers, and browns," she replies softly. "Metals and crafted wires. Sea glass and polished bones." Sighing softly she gently touches one such bone, a soft ivory, the best she could mimic of the tusks he had once had. "He was a magnificent crafter, with a harsh exterior and yet the most genuine heart I've ever known. He had eyes like mine - blue and brown - and often worked with metal to create amazing machines. Everyone mistook him for a beastly sort because of his appearance..." taking in a breath she blinks away the sting of her eye. "But he was so gentle, and had so much love to give." Swallowing roughly she clears her throat and gives a weak smile towards Sunjata. "It's not easy to capture. But I'm going to try."
I'm ready to hope, swing me out of the low
Wide awake in the glow, I can't do this alone
Wide awake in the glow, I can't do this alone
