#baronyofthesilverwolf

"If we're reborn, do we always come back the same kind? Or do you come back different kinds?"

"Like - karma, right? You screw up, you come back as, like, a fly? Are nockers on the good or bad end of that scale? I guess the elves... sidhe.. are the big winners?"

"Dunno. That kinda thinkin's above me; I just make stuff. Prolly one a' the el... Lords know."

"...Could I help you with stuff?"

"You? You... oh, uh....?"

Willy changes modes without a clutch.

"You... help me?"

She wipes her face down with a kerchief in the hot room.

"I'm not..." She frowns, flustered.

"Just because I... because my stuff ain't... I can fix stuff. I could do prep, do something... "

"My fingers are itching to do something."

"Yeah?"

"What ya'll see 'round here needs doin'?"

"I dunno. I did some reading, so, like... like, for leather, I could do the neatsfoot, or... or trace out the patterns for tooling? Polishing metal takes lot of time, too..."

Tedious tasks - necessary, yes, and worthy of care. But grunt work, aiming for the dirt instead of stars.

"Or there's the forge, right? There's work in keeping it set up and stuff. Ain't that different from a kiln..."

"Ain't....a...kiln??"

Willy begins to resemble a teapot on the boil. "Ain't.... "

"The -FORGE-..." she says it emphatically "....is a FORGE. Meant for -metal-. MET-AL. Not furkin' wet mud. It's a whole different ALCHEMY you....." DEEEEEEP breath ".... fledge."

"A kiln is for firing ceramics... but it's fire, and constant temperature.."

"It.. it ain't wet mud..." She begins to protest.

Another deep breath. "Ok. Ok. We kin talk 'bout that."

"I could keep the fire constant while you work, right?"

"Dunno. -Could- you?"

"Yeah?" Spirals dimming, and her response is faltering.

"Could... could I just watch you work, sometimes? I won't touch anything. I could bring you coffee or whatever."

"You wouldn't have to look at me or talk to me or nuthin'. Be like I wasn't here."

A sigh. "Yer a tender lil flower, ain't ya? Well. S'ok. Ain't like ya'll had a lot of time ta be anythin' else. You'll toughen up."

"I'm not! I just... I don't want to risk fucking anything up..."

"Look, ain't no nocker that ever shrunk away from shit! From what we do!"

A deep breath.

"Nockers fuck shit up. S'what we do. Fuck it up and make it better. You heard about breakin' eggs to make an omelette? Same idea."

She twists her hands together. "...waste of materials..."

"It's.. it's one thing to break eggs to make an omelet, it's another to just throw'm on the ground. I just... I feel sick, like.. like doing nuthin..."

"I wanna do something. I don't see how I fit in here, they're all fancy pretty fairy tales, and I'm just... just..."

"Yeah, yeah. Ya'lls a nocker. That's what it's like. You ain't the pretty fairy, you're the -useful- fairy. The one that give 'em weapons, and equipment. Without which, by the way, they don't get SHIT done."

"But I make drek."

"Says WHO??" Willy barks, then tries to swallow it "Who says?"

"So what's th'furkin' point of me? Gwen said I almost didn't pop, and maybe I shouldn't have..."

"YOU STOW THAT RIGHT NOW."

"Art's supposed to have form, it's supposed to be... it... it can't just be chaotic piles of wasted material..."

"It's supposed to be beautiful. Elegant." Full of hurt and recrimination.

"Everything I make is ugly."

"But I could help. I could be doing something, be part of it, because if I don't do something I feel like I'm gonna shrivel up... I could be useful, even if my stuff sucks, there's gotta be a way I can do something that won't... won't ruin it?"

"You need water and oil and coal and shit. I was lookin' up forging, I read up. I wouldn't get in your way."

"I ain't dumb, I can measure stuff out, I can clean edges, I can help. And I can fix stuff, so that's useful."

A SIGH.

"Yeah, yeah. Ok. Alright. Ya'll kin help."

"You'll see!"

"Fine."