Allen stroked his beard, grateful he'd had half a mind enough to bring his sketchbook. "Aye, we can see 'em. Let's go then, lad." And off he trundled, eventually just grabbing the boy's wrist when they came into an unbelievably thick part of town. He didn't like, the boy likely didn't like it, but Allen decided to not care as he all but dragged him through town. Finally they made it to the guy Allen had in mind. Knocking on the door, Allen pushed the boy through when he was bid to enter.
The place was ornate, most of the walls were covered in Allen's works. "Oi! Joe! Brought a friend, hope you don't mind! Jus' wanna peek at yer garden." Out came a older man, downtrodden and world weary, only to brighten at the sight of the dwarf and his friend. "Allen! What a surprise! Of course, my friend, of course, do come in. I apologize for the mess, was just in the middle of an experiment. Nothing the guard should worry of course." Allen and Joe rolled their eyes in unison.
"Joe, I want'cha to meet Chesslin, my model for however long. Chess, this's Joseph Montgomery, he owns some sort of company thinger. He's one of my clients." Allen waved his hand dismissively. "Anyways, Chess here likes magic from what I gather. So would you mind if he bothers you for awhile while I poke at yer plants?" "Certainly not. Provided he doesn't share my secret... I'd rather not be dragged into the prison, no matter how small my gift may be..." Allen looked to Chess, an eyebrow raised in inquiry. Seemed a bit late to ask, but should the boy refuse and walk out the door, Allen will have never heard of him. Friends are important to Allen, but if you're stupid enough to cross a friend who's also a client, you're not a friend anymore.
It's your own fault, you know.
Re: It's your own fault, you know.
The crowd battered Chesslin from every side, and it was difficult to keep up with Allen's expert maneuvering. Chess had never had to weave and duck this way to avoid being knocked off of his feet, so he was slow at it. Much as he hated being forced to take Allen's hand to navigate, he was also grateful. It could have taken all day to dive into the current on his own.
A breath of relief escaped him when they finally stepped out of the street, through the front door of Allen's friend's house. Chesslin lingered a short distance away from his dwarven companion, analyzing everything he saw. He had not spent much time in the dwarf's house, at least not conscious, but what little he had seen had given him the chance to recognize the dwarf's hand in artwork. It was easy enough to spot that same style of piece hanging all over Joe's walls.
Then, Joe came through the door, and Chesslin abandoned the artwork for examination. The man seemed careworn – well, judging by what he had seen only a few minutes before, Chess guessed that anyone could become careworn after a few short years in Marn. He smiled, though, when he spotted his friend.
Chesslin kept himself carefully removed from the conversation until Joe spoke to him directly. He met Joe's eyes evenly, gravely.
“I'd never tell,” he answered quietly. How could he? Of course, neither of these people knew he held a similar secret.
A breath of relief escaped him when they finally stepped out of the street, through the front door of Allen's friend's house. Chesslin lingered a short distance away from his dwarven companion, analyzing everything he saw. He had not spent much time in the dwarf's house, at least not conscious, but what little he had seen had given him the chance to recognize the dwarf's hand in artwork. It was easy enough to spot that same style of piece hanging all over Joe's walls.
Then, Joe came through the door, and Chesslin abandoned the artwork for examination. The man seemed careworn – well, judging by what he had seen only a few minutes before, Chess guessed that anyone could become careworn after a few short years in Marn. He smiled, though, when he spotted his friend.
Chesslin kept himself carefully removed from the conversation until Joe spoke to him directly. He met Joe's eyes evenly, gravely.
“I'd never tell,” he answered quietly. How could he? Of course, neither of these people knew he held a similar secret.
Re: It's your own fault, you know.
Joe nodded at the young boy in thanks before gesturing for him to follow. "Help yourself to my gardens, Allen, but no tromping through them this time, my pansies couldn't handle another round against your feet." Allen chortled in agreement before heading over to the doors he knew contained what he secretly cherished as a heaven.
It took him a bit, but eventually he found a decent specimen to sketch, and settled down to do just that, his dwarven fingers deft and dexterous. Lines grooved the paper, depicting light and shadow, depth and surface. He was lost in his own little world, drawing what his steel blue eyes saw.
Meanwhile Joe led Chess to his workshop and showed him his abilities - plant weaving. "Nothing overly magnificent or dangerous, but it does come about quite beautifully. I grow my plants at an accelerated rate, and weave them around each other to create wreathes and such. More wealthy people have me create furniture in this manner, though I must admit it pains me. I do hate killing plants... but a man can't live off of pretty flowers alone." He smiled and began to demonstrate, humming softly to himself as he coaxed small willow saplings to grow and wind around themselves, forming a bench.
It took him a bit, but eventually he found a decent specimen to sketch, and settled down to do just that, his dwarven fingers deft and dexterous. Lines grooved the paper, depicting light and shadow, depth and surface. He was lost in his own little world, drawing what his steel blue eyes saw.
Meanwhile Joe led Chess to his workshop and showed him his abilities - plant weaving. "Nothing overly magnificent or dangerous, but it does come about quite beautifully. I grow my plants at an accelerated rate, and weave them around each other to create wreathes and such. More wealthy people have me create furniture in this manner, though I must admit it pains me. I do hate killing plants... but a man can't live off of pretty flowers alone." He smiled and began to demonstrate, humming softly to himself as he coaxed small willow saplings to grow and wind around themselves, forming a bench.
Re: It's your own fault, you know.
Chesslin could feel his pulse quickening the longer he stood there, watching the plants weave together, growing before his eyes. Something akin to reverence filled his eyes. He could feel the buzzing of magic in the air. It shivered along the thin strands of his own power, and they danced across his skin. He found the energy distracting. The threads seemed to want him to pull them. Or perhaps he wanted to pull them that badly on his own.
Still, he refrained. He had never lost the memory of what happened the first time he had tugged on the wrong string. Even if it had been an accident, even if he had not know that the string was there to begin with, he would never get the brilliant light, the heat of that fire. It still haunted his dreams.
"How do you do it?" Chess asked softly, after a long while. The dormouse in his pocket squirmed, and Chesslin scooped the tiny creature out into the open, putting it on his shoulders so it could run around a little against the curve of his neck. "What does the power feel like, to you?" Isolated as he had been, Chesslin had always wanted to know whether the magic felt the same to everyone or not. He had never had a way to find out.
Still, he refrained. He had never lost the memory of what happened the first time he had tugged on the wrong string. Even if it had been an accident, even if he had not know that the string was there to begin with, he would never get the brilliant light, the heat of that fire. It still haunted his dreams.
"How do you do it?" Chess asked softly, after a long while. The dormouse in his pocket squirmed, and Chesslin scooped the tiny creature out into the open, putting it on his shoulders so it could run around a little against the curve of his neck. "What does the power feel like, to you?" Isolated as he had been, Chesslin had always wanted to know whether the magic felt the same to everyone or not. He had never had a way to find out.
Re: It's your own fault, you know.
Joe was humming as he worked, his magic sighing through him like a song. He heard the boy's question, though it sounded as though he was miles and miles away. "They sing to me, and I to them. It's like listening to an instrument being played by a true master. I weave these together, melding them to become an orchestra and they dance for me. The err... plants I mean."
Joe never looked away from the plants, though he could feel the boy's own energy. He absently reached out a hand and gestured. "Give me your hand boy, I can could always use a hand and you smell of plants."
Joe never looked away from the plants, though he could feel the boy's own energy. He absently reached out a hand and gestured. "Give me your hand boy, I can could always use a hand and you smell of plants."
Re: It's your own fault, you know.
Chesslin gazed silently at Joe's outstretched hand, examining for a moment the callouses constructed by many hours in the garden. He raised his own hand a little for examination. His hands were much the same, the fingers thinner, more delicate but deeply calloused from his garden, and from the apothecary. Plants and magic - Joe was similar to him in more than just their hands. Perhaps he really could learn something from this.
Chess allowed himself no further hesitation. Reaching out, he laid his hand in Joe's palm. The deep threads of his own magic, the ones that ran in the very marrow of his bones, tingled at that touch, sensing another magic. A kindred spirit. The smile that crossed Chesslin's face at that feeling was fierce, hungry. Everything he wanted in the world was more of this power.
Envisioning the threads of his magic in his mind, Chesslin began to feed them through his palm and into Joe, lending his energy. Even as he helped, he did his best to scope out what it was that Joe did to make the plants weave that way. It was not a particularly useful talent, to him, but if he could make plants weave into a wreath, then perhaps something more useful could be made, as well. He only hoped that Joe would show him, intentionally or not.
Chess allowed himself no further hesitation. Reaching out, he laid his hand in Joe's palm. The deep threads of his own magic, the ones that ran in the very marrow of his bones, tingled at that touch, sensing another magic. A kindred spirit. The smile that crossed Chesslin's face at that feeling was fierce, hungry. Everything he wanted in the world was more of this power.
Envisioning the threads of his magic in his mind, Chesslin began to feed them through his palm and into Joe, lending his energy. Even as he helped, he did his best to scope out what it was that Joe did to make the plants weave that way. It was not a particularly useful talent, to him, but if he could make plants weave into a wreath, then perhaps something more useful could be made, as well. He only hoped that Joe would show him, intentionally or not.
Re: It's your own fault, you know.
Joe took the boy's hand and felt the magic between them flare. Chess was a violin among wind instruments, confusing the man for a moment before he used it to weave the plants at a more happy tune. He mostly use the boy's magic for this, allowing him to feel the pull and tug of the plants, hoping he could hear them sing.
He had sensed the hunger from the boy, the desire for power and felt sorry for the poor lad. "It's interesting, our gift. So much harm can be wrought from it, but so much pleasure too." The plants were weaving faster and faster and soon it was finished. Easily he drew the magic away, released the boy after making sure their magical connection was comfortably severed, and began gently snipping willowy trunks to finish his furniture creation.
"It is something we must be wary of, my dear boy, because otherwise the government will truly seek to kill us all." There was a sadness in his voice as he cut. "I lost my mother that way. She was just a healer, used her magic to improve the herbs she used... a guard caught her, and one night they barged in and took her screaming from her bed. I've never seen her since."
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
3 Stills and a rough of a scene he wanted Chess to pose for later, Allen was wandering slowly back into the mansion, uncomfortable with the tingling he got in his chest hair. Magic, he guessed, with a dwarven scoff. Certainly art looks much lovelier with magic shimmering in it, and was simpler to make, but what about the poor sods who made it by hand because they've been practicing for years? With a quiet sigh Allen moved towards Joe's workroom and leaned against the door frame to watch the man snip the plants.
He had sensed the hunger from the boy, the desire for power and felt sorry for the poor lad. "It's interesting, our gift. So much harm can be wrought from it, but so much pleasure too." The plants were weaving faster and faster and soon it was finished. Easily he drew the magic away, released the boy after making sure their magical connection was comfortably severed, and began gently snipping willowy trunks to finish his furniture creation.
"It is something we must be wary of, my dear boy, because otherwise the government will truly seek to kill us all." There was a sadness in his voice as he cut. "I lost my mother that way. She was just a healer, used her magic to improve the herbs she used... a guard caught her, and one night they barged in and took her screaming from her bed. I've never seen her since."
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
3 Stills and a rough of a scene he wanted Chess to pose for later, Allen was wandering slowly back into the mansion, uncomfortable with the tingling he got in his chest hair. Magic, he guessed, with a dwarven scoff. Certainly art looks much lovelier with magic shimmering in it, and was simpler to make, but what about the poor sods who made it by hand because they've been practicing for years? With a quiet sigh Allen moved towards Joe's workroom and leaned against the door frame to watch the man snip the plants.
Re: It's your own fault, you know.
Chesslin hardly reacted to Joe's words as he drew his hand back to his side. It tingled as the remnants of Joe's magic ran up and down the strands of his own, vibrating them as they went, exactly like a violin. He massaged his palm a little with the long fingers of his other hand, trying to chase away the shuddering tingles.
The dormouse on his shoulders seemed to respond to the feeling, too. It skittered across his thin shoulders to nibble on a strand of his soft brown hair. Chess turned his head to still the creature with a stern gaze. Chastised, it curled into a little ball in the crook of his neck.
"I am familiar with the dangers of magic," he answered Joe finally, turning back to gaze at the gardener. It was not so much the government that he feared, but his own lack of control. One wrong movement in the wrong direction and he could strike an unwanted strand and set this whole building on fire, exactly as he had the night he first discovered the strings. "My parents, too, were its victims." It was not something Chesslin would readily have admitted, were Joe not also possessed of some form of magic. He would have to give something to get something, right?
The dormouse on his shoulders seemed to respond to the feeling, too. It skittered across his thin shoulders to nibble on a strand of his soft brown hair. Chess turned his head to still the creature with a stern gaze. Chastised, it curled into a little ball in the crook of his neck.
"I am familiar with the dangers of magic," he answered Joe finally, turning back to gaze at the gardener. It was not so much the government that he feared, but his own lack of control. One wrong movement in the wrong direction and he could strike an unwanted strand and set this whole building on fire, exactly as he had the night he first discovered the strings. "My parents, too, were its victims." It was not something Chesslin would readily have admitted, were Joe not also possessed of some form of magic. He would have to give something to get something, right?
Re: It's your own fault, you know.
The lad had magic it seemed, or so Allen guessed from the topic. He watched the boy, his heart going out to the lad when he said his parents were victims of it. Allen somehow doubted it was from the Government. They wouldn't have gone out to that little shack for something so small Allen couldn't see it. He watched the mouse and absently thought up a name for the little rodent, not noticing Joe turn around and spotting the dwarf.
"Done already my friend?" Joe asked, clearly amused at the dwarf's ability to sneak. Allen shrugged, his eyes on Chesslin. "That's up to the lad, I'm willing to find another couple subjects if the lad has questions." Allen leveled his gaze at the boy a little more sternly. "Though I can't blame ye for coming out with it when we first met, woulda been nice to know ye were trying to learn more magic-shit boy. I know people who can help - 'tis the perks of bein' an artist, you meet all sorts." Allen gruffed out before he straitened.
"Just want ta make sure ye don't hurt yerself... or others, accidently of course." Now Allen was gruff as hell, shuffling his feet and clearly embarrassed, internally trying to decide when the hell he'd decided to basically adopt the boy and look out for him. Shrugging it off inwardly, the dwarf eyed the boy and awaited his answer.
"Done already my friend?" Joe asked, clearly amused at the dwarf's ability to sneak. Allen shrugged, his eyes on Chesslin. "That's up to the lad, I'm willing to find another couple subjects if the lad has questions." Allen leveled his gaze at the boy a little more sternly. "Though I can't blame ye for coming out with it when we first met, woulda been nice to know ye were trying to learn more magic-shit boy. I know people who can help - 'tis the perks of bein' an artist, you meet all sorts." Allen gruffed out before he straitened.
"Just want ta make sure ye don't hurt yerself... or others, accidently of course." Now Allen was gruff as hell, shuffling his feet and clearly embarrassed, internally trying to decide when the hell he'd decided to basically adopt the boy and look out for him. Shrugging it off inwardly, the dwarf eyed the boy and awaited his answer.
Re: It's your own fault, you know.
Chesslin felt his blood turn to ice when he realized that Allen had been standing behind him the entire time. This was not something he wanted the dwarf to know, and not something the dwarf really had any reason to know. Perhaps Chess would have told him willingly that he had magic, that he was trying to learn more about it, grow stronger in an art still forbidden to him, as soon as he was sure that the dwarf would not turn him in for it. What had happened to his parents, however, even in the vague context he had used, was not something he wanted shared with anyone.
He took a deep breath and turned to meet Allen's eyes, his own blue gaze carefully steely and empty of emotion. He would not be giving any more details on the start of his orphan days. He never spoke of it, even to his dear elder brother, and certainly not with Allen.
"Thank you for your concern," he answered in a clipped tone. The mention of hurting others by accident just dropped another block of ice down his spine. He turned back to Joe. "May I... speak to you again?"
He was not sure that JOe would ever want Chesslin around, but he was by nature both a magic user and an herbalist, and finding another with magic and plants was like a dream come true. Even if Joe could not teach him all that much, he could jump-start Chesslin into learning.
He took a deep breath and turned to meet Allen's eyes, his own blue gaze carefully steely and empty of emotion. He would not be giving any more details on the start of his orphan days. He never spoke of it, even to his dear elder brother, and certainly not with Allen.
"Thank you for your concern," he answered in a clipped tone. The mention of hurting others by accident just dropped another block of ice down his spine. He turned back to Joe. "May I... speak to you again?"
He was not sure that JOe would ever want Chesslin around, but he was by nature both a magic user and an herbalist, and finding another with magic and plants was like a dream come true. Even if Joe could not teach him all that much, he could jump-start Chesslin into learning.
Re: It's your own fault, you know.
Allen's eyes saddened behind his own shield. He hadn't meant to offend the boy, so he gave Joe what could be considered a pleading look behind Chesslin's back. The man caught it and smiled easily. "I'd be more than happy to have you here, Chess. Perhaps we can work together on a couple projects, yes?"
Allen watched the two before quietly leading the boy out, silently thinking. He took him home, avoiding the too-quiet streets, as he didn't want the boy thinking he was going to hurt him or turn him in. Ushering Chess in Allen followed and closed the door, locking it.
"Look, I got nothin' against magic, in fact I kinda encourage it. Not very dwarvenly I suppose, but I think of it like a natural talent." He avoided Chess's eyes, Allen was getting into what he considered to be feminine territory: emotions. "Just don't wanna see ya get hurt, boy." Allen sighed as he began to make a pot of tea.
"So," Allen began, gruffly now since that he was entering uncomfortable territory, "I'll help ye where I can. Just... no turning me into little critters, like Buttons there." Allen joked, pointing at the doormouse.
Allen watched the two before quietly leading the boy out, silently thinking. He took him home, avoiding the too-quiet streets, as he didn't want the boy thinking he was going to hurt him or turn him in. Ushering Chess in Allen followed and closed the door, locking it.
"Look, I got nothin' against magic, in fact I kinda encourage it. Not very dwarvenly I suppose, but I think of it like a natural talent." He avoided Chess's eyes, Allen was getting into what he considered to be feminine territory: emotions. "Just don't wanna see ya get hurt, boy." Allen sighed as he began to make a pot of tea.
"So," Allen began, gruffly now since that he was entering uncomfortable territory, "I'll help ye where I can. Just... no turning me into little critters, like Buttons there." Allen joked, pointing at the doormouse.
Re: It's your own fault, you know.
Allen agreed quietly with Joe's offer, eager for the chance to practice, though the stiff coldness of his eyes deadened that enthusiasm slightly. Bidding the gardener farewell, he followed his dwarven companion out onto the streets. He was an observant boy, and did not miss Allen's tendency to skirt around less populated streets. At first, he wondered why. Perhaps the less populated the street, the more likely they were to be robbed? That made little sense. Pick-pockets would be safest in a deep crowd where their prey was being jostled, anyways.
Then, perhaps, the dwarf was thinking, and did not want to be disturbed? Chesslin's usual curiosity piqued at that thought. He started to ask Allen what was on his mind, but thought better of it. The dwarf probably wouldn't hear him in this ruckus anyways, so he waited until they arrived back at their home
To Chess's surprise, it was Allen who started the conversation. He frowned. The fact that the dwarf did not mind his abilities came as something of a surprise. He doubted there were many back home who would have "encouraged" the use of his magic. Then again, Allen had no idea what he could do - he knew only that Chesslin was magic, and had an affection for plants.
"I couldn't turn you into a dormouse if I tried," Chess answered him flatly. "I haven't learned-" he stopped, then, frowning. "Buttons...?" he asked, glancing across his shoulder to the mouse, who was hanging on for dear life after being carried through the crowd that way. "Why Buttons...?"
Then, perhaps, the dwarf was thinking, and did not want to be disturbed? Chesslin's usual curiosity piqued at that thought. He started to ask Allen what was on his mind, but thought better of it. The dwarf probably wouldn't hear him in this ruckus anyways, so he waited until they arrived back at their home
To Chess's surprise, it was Allen who started the conversation. He frowned. The fact that the dwarf did not mind his abilities came as something of a surprise. He doubted there were many back home who would have "encouraged" the use of his magic. Then again, Allen had no idea what he could do - he knew only that Chesslin was magic, and had an affection for plants.
"I couldn't turn you into a dormouse if I tried," Chess answered him flatly. "I haven't learned-" he stopped, then, frowning. "Buttons...?" he asked, glancing across his shoulder to the mouse, who was hanging on for dear life after being carried through the crowd that way. "Why Buttons...?"
Re: It's your own fault, you know.
"Just starting then, eh..." Allen murmured before shrugging at the lad. "He's got a cute lil button nose and eyes." Seeing the boy's stare Allen frowned. "No? Ah fine, I've got loads of names." Allen stuffed a hand in his pocket even as the other worked a couple tangles out of his magnificent beard.
"But no lad, I won't be turning ye in, I can't use the shit though so I can't help much. In the meantime, we need to discuss our business agreement."
"But no lad, I won't be turning ye in, I can't use the shit though so I can't help much. In the meantime, we need to discuss our business agreement."
Re: It's your own fault, you know.
Shaking his head slightly, unable to comprehend the dwarf's odd taste in names, Chesslin picked the dormouse off of his shoulder. He cradled it gently between his hands for just one short moment, before closing his fingers over it and stuffing it away in his tunic pocket. The creature did not even protest its sudden banishment from the world of light, curling into a tiny ball against Chesslin's hip. It was well trained, to say the least.
"Our business arrangement," Chess repeated quietly, eyes brightening with interest as he turned back to Allen. He did not understand why, but he trusted this gruff, burly man. He was more than willing to believe that Allen would not turn him in. That put him in a very secure position - house and food, even clothes, all for free, except for the time it would take him to pose for Allen's paintings. Frankly, Chesslin still could not believe his luck. "What about it?"
"Our business arrangement," Chess repeated quietly, eyes brightening with interest as he turned back to Allen. He did not understand why, but he trusted this gruff, burly man. He was more than willing to believe that Allen would not turn him in. That put him in a very secure position - house and food, even clothes, all for free, except for the time it would take him to pose for Allen's paintings. Frankly, Chesslin still could not believe his luck. "What about it?"
Re: It's your own fault, you know.
He watched Chess stuff that poor mouse into his pocket and mentally named him Sir Lintball before addressing the lad. "Obviously you're not going to want to work whenever the fuck I feel like painting, though that'd be nice. We need to sort out days off, hours off, ectera. Because otherwise, I'll likely just bark at you and expect you to come running, which really wouldn't be fair for a studying lad." Allen explained as he moved to the kitchen, pining for a cup of tea.
"Usually I'd also draw up payments and shit, but I think we've got that pretty down pat. So in replacement of that, we'll set up a couple house rules." Allen quoted the air with his fingers. He wasn't keen on the idea, but it was easier than just losing his temper. "I have pet peeves, ya likely have a few things you'd hate me doin', so we put our cards on the table and write up what we think'll be fair rules or requests."
"Tha' bein' said," Alenn started as he set down a blank sheet of parchment and grabbed a pencil, "what hours do you propose you be available for molding?"
"Usually I'd also draw up payments and shit, but I think we've got that pretty down pat. So in replacement of that, we'll set up a couple house rules." Allen quoted the air with his fingers. He wasn't keen on the idea, but it was easier than just losing his temper. "I have pet peeves, ya likely have a few things you'd hate me doin', so we put our cards on the table and write up what we think'll be fair rules or requests."
"Tha' bein' said," Alenn started as he set down a blank sheet of parchment and grabbed a pencil, "what hours do you propose you be available for molding?"