
The fiftieth day of Fall, 513 A.V.
Another late evening of cleaning had been on the agenda for Meville that day. While not common, every now and then Jennai would absolutely need him to go clean out the vacated rooms. His tasks generally included an overall sweep down to remove what dust had accumulated and to find of and dispose of whatever goodies the patrons had left behind. He'd started fairly early on in the day, and had been cleaning for a good long while until he'd become too tired to continue, having sat down in one of the chairs in one of the many cabins he'd been cleaning for the majority of the day.
Lifting the fingers of his left hand to his lips, Meville bit down on the air, slowly pulling the astral arm off of his physical one. The glyphs on his shoulders shone slightly, even through the fabric of the light shirt he was wearing. Sighing with relief, Meville then proceeded to lean forward and scratch his back, letting the tingling sensation soothe some of the weariness from his body. After a few chimes, Meville then removed his other arm, letting it drift over to where he'd left the broom, picking it up and dragging it over. "I don't know why I've been doing everything manually this whole time." He grumbled at the responsive broom as it passed by, heading to the corner of the room that had yet to be swept.
Letting his other arm go to join his right, Meville eased back into his chair as his projected limbs began to sweep the floor. Though his body had become fatigued from the day, his Djed still had plenty to give. While it certainly took a different kind of energy, sweeping with projection was worlds more simple than doing it with his weaker physical body. While it was true his astral form couldn't lift nearly the weight his corporeal form could, the astral could go for much longer, unburdened by the magical ailments Meville suffered. So, as the broom moved about the room, he was content to watch. It required more effort that he appeared to be giving, as the commands for movement were slightly delayed, but Meville wasn't in the mood for walking, let alone sweeping.
Once the floor had been dealt with, there was a neat little pile of dust sitting just out of reach of the swing of the door. Against his better judgement, Meville twisted the handle, pulling the door open with his invisible limbs. With the portal to the outside world revealed, Meville swept out the dirt with three final strokes of the broom, before pulling in both broom and arms before shutting in. Setting down the now useless stick and bristles, Meville drew his arms back to him, massaging his temples with the tips of his pointer fingers. Projection was just so very convenient when it came to things like scratching places he couldn't quite reach, or grabbing something that was just too high. There were, of course, more ways to employ the personal magic, but Meville had never really had to. His life was pleasantly mundane, which meant he could use his astral body to do whatever the petch he pleased.
Slipping back into his physical limbs, Meville flexed his fingers, making sure all the connections were correct. One of the few things his father had advised him on was to always make sure the limbs reconnected correctly, lest terrible things befall him. What, exactly, those terrible things were, Meville wasn't about to find out. It was much better to avoid that which those that came before suggested rather than to rush in and experience the pain first hand. While certainly mischievous and curious, Meville wasn't daft. Everything seemed to be in working order.
Rising out of the chair, Meville ambled over to the broom, kneeling down to snatch it up and glare at the faceless wood. "Why can't I just enchant you to sweep for me, hm?" His slight frown quickly shifted into a laughing smile. "Wouldn't that be ridiculous. A broom that sweep all on its own? Preposterous. With that sort of power you'd be pushing for your own rights, I'd imagine." The idea of a broom gaining sentience was slightly less appealing than it just mindlessly doing work. If Meville so disliked sweeping with the broom, he could only imagine how awful it would be to sweep as the broom. Deciding it was best not to give the piece of wood any more ideas, Meville fell into silence as he exited the cabin.
Common | Vani