[Open] Grinding Edges

[Gale]

Saunders' Forge | Mid-Morning

17 YARIS 2718

Gale blinked. Only once mind, but it was enough to lurch her entire thought process to one side. By definition privilege was something granted or available only to a particular person or group. The Galdori held the most privilege in society, with them occasionally letting out handouts to those below them. Gifts as some would call them. One example was the control of literacy within the human population, which as consequence many did not know how to read. Of course, there were those who learned anyway regardless of the law - but those as far as she was aware were few and far between - and itself was rarely enforced. It was enough of a deterrent however. But she herself was not exempt from that rule, she too now stood in a position of privilege over him.

The literate verses the illiterate.

The irony.

Still that momentary blink sent her mind into overdrive. Eyes shifted around his entire form, searching and looking. What had she missed? What was overlooked. Strong, strength, he could probably overpower her with ease. Where was her gun? Upstairs, safe, hidden. Was it a trick question? Was this what he was looking for?

"My pa taught me," she answered, "And he'd only be able to teach if ye be a one of the sorts that can talk to the ones on the other side." The gaze peeled away, her form moving over to her food. She poked at the contents then, before beginning to shovel in the greased contents into her mouth, "He's dead, if you ain't working that one out."

A firm slurp of the sauce, she gave an awkward look to the children as they ate their sweets. She had laid down her position with him; no doubt implying she had some understanding at least. And judging by the earlier mention from the children, it was no secret she was capable of some basic teaching, "I show the kids some stuff every now and again. Basic like."

Another mouthful, "Now, judgin' by that face, ye're looking to go 'nd learn 'em words. 'Cause whateffer reason. But, you ain't knowing where to start. So, question for ye," She stood, taking the food with her to him, "Treat this as a business transaction, then what'd ye give for the service? Better yet, why you want it?" She cocked her thumb back to the children, "See, me and their Ma got a deal. That deal means I keep an eye on 'em and if time allows give 'em some words. Get it into their head young. They get it better than people yours and my age."

[Francis Pusher]

17 Yaris 2718

Francis liked to think he was able to read people well enough to at least know when he caught them by surprise. The brief moment of silence and then his practically examining him kinda said that he may have caught Saunders off guard perhaps. Then her words came and so Francis decided to hide his own surprise with disappointment.

Notch out a chance to learn from whomever taught Saunders because it Saunders’ dead parent, which meant unless he wanted to go grave pokin’ like some insensitive clod and somehow resurrect the dead he was clockin’ out of luck. Feeling rather he awkward he simply slurped more noodles as he listened.

He taught the kids sometimes…. And because their mom an’ him had some sort of agreement, she could offer Saunders could use. It wasn’t money, Francis doubted that really though it wouldn’t have been too surprising. Everyone’s clinging to their coin purse nowadays, either a trade of other material objects or favors would have to be currency here.

But what could he really offer? All he was is some warehouse worker who helped keep it tidy under other folk’s guidance an’ occasionally deliverd stuff via carraige, sure it gave him muscle an’ all that an’ steering a carriage was by no means a useless skill, but unless Saunders wanted someone to poke around their place helping move stuff or had a carriage he could drive… well Francis was even more clock out of luck.

“ Well I don’t know what I could give ya” He admitted ultimately and with visible dejection as he refused to look up, focusing his gaze into his noodles, brows furrowing as he felt frustration well up but not wanting to act up on them in public “ I ain’t got coin, an’ I ain’t got nothin’ else to give” There was bitterness in his voice, his deep voice cracking lightly as he tried to contain himself.

“Unless ya need someone uh… hammered, I’m uselessp” He looked up finally, then looked back down as he gathered more noodles to slurp.

No swearing in front of kids, nope.

[Gale]

Saunders' Forge | Mid-Morning

17 YARIS 2718

Gale took another slurp of the noodles. Letting the grease fill the back of her throat, she let the flavour rest upon her tongue and smother her taste buds. Here was a man before her, wanting to effectively take up her time in the name of learning. Part of her sympathised with his want of self-improvement – but at the end of it all, this was a business, she was a worker and she needed to make it worth her while. Something like this, based on what he wanted, was something that would take up a large quantity of her time; hours a day focusing on such a project would result in the loss. More importantly, it meant the time she had in private to make the much needed firearms for the Resistance would be drastically cut short.

She slurped up a stray noodle, “Then we ain’t anythin’ left to discuss on the matter,” She gave him a gesturing point with the chopsticks, “You said yourself you’ve got nothin’ to give, unless it’s beatin’ on someone. Now, dunno if you’ve noticed, but I’m not the sort ta make enemies. So, beatin’ is out the question. Also, your look ain’t going to make me bite either. I only got so much time around for doin’.”

With the last of the noodles devoured and the sauce slurped down, Gale moved over to the forge. It was common routine for her to burn her rubbish, and so she fed the remains to the coals. It quickly ignited and burned away. Hand wiping away the remains, she pulled on the heavy gloves and the apron, before taking up one of the large heavy hammers, “So, while you sit there ‘aving a sulk and decide why it ain’t fair, try thinkin’ ‘arder. Decide what you're willin' to give up to gain. Meanwhile, I’m gonna do my job.”

Grasping onto the cool end of one of the exposed bars, she dragged it out. Still tightly grasped in her hand, she laid the malformed end onto the flat surface of the broad anvil. She went to work after that, hammer striking down, bar rotating after several strong hits. The ring of heated steel filled the forge, the eyes of curious children watching from their stool. All the while, the low hum reverberated up through her throat. Moving it now, she trapped it between her hand and the anvil, weight pressed down while the rest of it was forced into shape. She could feel the heat clinging around her neck, her nostrils flaring as she took in the growing scent of sweat and soot.

It was in one swift movement that she took the heated crowbar, turned and submerged it in the brine water of the quencher. A hiss, metal cooled as the water spat. Withdrawing, she moved to the other brick structure at the back and promptly slid the cooling crowbar onto one of the many shelves within. The metalworker moved, turning her head to look back at him briefly, “You didn’t answer the other question, why you want it. Why does a man in your place and work want it?”

[Francis Pusher]

17 Yaris 2718

EEven if the only thing he had left go give was his home and own life itself? 'Cause of the things he owned, that was really all he had. He grunted at that, slurping up more of his noodles then finding that he had none left. He watched Saunders retreating form as he went to work on those crowbars.


He knew the likelihood of Saunder's saying yes was an unlikely prospect. But he would have hated himself had he not made the simple attempt to ask, 'cuz then he wouldn't have made a first step. Granted, that first step led to a dead end but it was better than just standing still and he could at least tell himself that; Francis tried to look at glasses half-full after all.

Crushing the empty container into a ball, he watched as Saunders worked. Trying to get a gauge on the person who owned this place. It was clear he didn't mince words, their conversation proved that. It reminded him of the folk who were usually the sort to get knocked on the head in a brawl because they were blunt about their words and how they felt things.... at least that's what he got.

Serious about his work as well, so there was some passion there and they were might careful about it. But he supposed that was the obvious gear in that clockpiece, Saunders wouldn't have had a regular tide of business otherwise and this really wasn't the sort of work to be a running a few chimes behind on.

It wasn't long before the return to the question he tried avoiding was tossed back at him, and he had to withhold a tsk even though his tongue pressed against the back of his teeth to do just that "Cuz I want more" He began, and really who didn't want more out of their lot in life "An' I don't mean I want more stuff, I mean better food an' clothes would be nice... But my family ain't ever had learnin' see? Far as our history I ain't ever heard me da or ma say anythin' about relatives who knew words or numbers......don't know if its cuz they didn't know or cuz there jus' wasn't"

He carried on, tossing the empty balled up container up and down in one hand, the other tapping at his thigh.

" Always wondered why, never asked. Can't ask any more" There was a hint of mourning in his voice in that, but he pressed on " So I want that, I wanna learn the stuff my parents an' their parents ain't ever got to learn an' more"

His eyes turned sour then, after one toss the balled up litter being crushed tighter in his grip "But if I can't even learn words and numbers, I ain't even gotta chance to learn other smart stuff. An' them Gollies ain't gonna teach me words or numbers, an' whatever other learning they got they'd just keep it theirs"

He sighed, letting go of the old anger, easy to burn but quick to turn to embers "I'd give up breathin' jus' to spell my name"

[Gale]

Saunders' Forge | Mid-Morning

17 YARIS 2718

“Because you want more,” Gale repeated, “Because you want to prove you have a mind for somethin’, more than just what the Gollies think.” The Smith studied the crowbars, planning on which one she was going to work on next, “Because you want to be more than what you come from. You want to be thrown into the fires, heated and shaped into something else.”

She took up one of the crowbars, finding a grip on it and returning to the anvil. A similar process as before began, pushing and forcing it into shape with the hammer. All the while she continued to speak, though more strained and broken as she focused upon her work, “And prove yourself better,” a sniff, “Words make you better than just being another body, what you think right?” Gale shrugged, turning the bar over so she could work at it from another angle, “Of course, more ye know, the more ye eyes open up. More you see things. More you realise how much has been hidden from you.”

The hammer was gestured to him in a point, but her gaze did not lift from the target, “So, what then? Readin’ is a rabbit hole that will lead you to dark places.” The cold iron head struck down, a loud reverberating bang going through the smithy. She continued, “Perhaps you’d rather not know, keep your head down and quiet like. ‘Course, that’s just what the Gollies would like.” Water hissed as she quenched the straightened metal. Moving she added it to the other on the rack, hand flexing from the grip she held, “But, enough of the dramatics.”

“I’ll be blunt,” Gale looked at him squarely then, “I ain’t the soft sort. I’m like the metal I work, cold, hard, and unrelentin’. Needin’ a lot of time on the heat to get me to change into somethin’ else. And even then, that only works in the right hands.” Her lip twitched, tone going sharp, “So, don’t think for one minute I’m gonna do this for you ‘cause you’d give up breathing or you’re half arsed pitch.” The jabbing point was firm then, “Cause even if the offer is good, which it currently ain’t, you got to follow their rules - cause I’m not even going to think about stickin’ my neck out for someone who don’t even get the go from the state.”

Gale took up another one of the malformed crowbars, swiftly moving to work upon it. She focused her attention on it for the while, her gaze only flickering up briefly to see the expression of the children. Widened eyes, lips pushed together as they sat there awkwardly. Her gaze looked back down to the crowbar, hammer pressing down on the dent before she struck at it, “Half way through after this one. Once they’re done, got to just let ‘em cool.”

[Francis Pusher]

Time Stamp

Saunders' use of words was certainly interesting though not inaccurate. Mind, for Francis it was still a bit of a surprise to have his desires worded like that, and perhaps he was simply projecting but he had the assumption that Saunders understood forming in his mind. Not only that but the assumption he knew more than he let on.... Especially the part about how 'knowing more' meant seeing more the Gollies likely not wanting others to see.

Hidden things indeed.

That didn't make the next words from Saunder's mouth any easier however, and to dampen Francis's mood further.

Even if he persumably had some 'what next' after achieving his initial goals, if he can't even get a go from the clocking Gollies then all he had was illegal methods.

And unless he could find someone willing to risk their well-being to teach him, he was tickin' out of luck as Saunder's so demonstrated.

His eyes shot to the kids, shooting them an apologetic smile for making things awkward. It was never his intent but... He closed his eyes and withheld a sigh.

Ultimately he could not resent Saunders' unwillingness to teach him. He had nothing to offer to make it worthwhile to risk their life, figuratively or literally. But it did make any further desire to make conversation moot as he looked at the trashed food container in hand, simply giving a nod to Saunder's words about halfway there. And while he did wonder what the mother of the kids offered for Saunder's to teach them at times, he didn't want to ask with the kids about... Or ask at all this day really.

All he had left to do was simply wait.

[Gale]

Saunders' Forge | Mid-Morning

17 YARIS 2718

Silence, at last. It was something Gale treasured. She did not miss his attempt to wheedle his way into getting what he needed from her – but she was not about to do him a favour for nothing. There was one, long last look, before concentrating on the task at hand. The sound of hammer on steel filled the silence, the low rumbling of a hum crawling out of the throat. Far from in tune but enough to be a thoughtful aid on the side. With the third done, there was no time wasted on going through the next – only stopping between the fourth and fifth to stretch. Shoulders crunched in complaint, muscles shook out before continuing. When the last was quenched and placed along the others however, the first was reclaimed.

Time ticked on by, steel tested beneath the hammer, quenched once more to ensure it was definitely cool and finally dried off by a rag. It and the others met the same fate, cleaned off and checked for any pressing damages. Other edges were smoothed off, refined into the angles needed to pry open the crates. Whatever Francis decided to do with himself in this time was down to him, but Gale was at work and no longer interested in engaging. The children in the meanwhile remained where they were, watching intently until at last it was done.

The crowbars, restored to their original shapes, were presented to the labourer. Arms folded, things check off – she ensured the stranger went on his way, “You got any problems, you know where I am. Don’t be stupid with ‘em though. Else be back to as they were.” Gloves pulled off, they were tucked into the pocket at the front of the apron. The hands were clicked afterwards, a satisfying popping crack as the man was weighed up and down one final time, “Won’t keep you anymore though, taken enough of yeh time – thinks your boss might start wonderin’ ‘bout now.”

And with a pivot on the heel, the smith went back to work around the forge.

Now for the seeds of thought to germinate and grow into the possibilities of what could be without the thumb of the Galdori.

!	Message from: Muse
	This thread has been reviewed and approved for Character Progression for Gale Saunders.