[Lab 15] Lesson One (Thomas)

[Orinei]

12th of Winter, 512 AV As per usual, Orinei hadn’t slept, but that night it had been out of anticipation, rather than the general Nuit disdain for any human necessities. She had read, as she usually did; however, this time, instead of lazily flipping pages without really reading, she had truly pored over every word. She’d been working on one of the basic Animation texts that the deliriously sick Thomas had practically thrown into her arms before trudging out of the library looking like he was on Dira’s doorstep. She was familiar with the concepts of Animation, if only by the virtue of being one of its creations. The wizard who’d performed the Daek-nuit ritual on her was a master, after all, and he’d given her snippets of the theory. Past that, she’d been far too occupied attempting to learn the secrets of embalming and cosmetology to give “real” magic a second thought. Until now. She had, of course, noticed the abundant golems during her last sojourn in Sahova, but thought little of them. She was absorbed in her own work, her undead “siblings,” and eventually, her escape—too absorbed to truly notice their usefulness, or gain an interest in possibly creating them. The book detailed the very simplest aspects of Animation: the most basic theories, and the most basic instructions. If anything, it was comparable to a beginners’ textbook; it contained no high-level speculation or experimental theories. Though it would still be considered “old” by many standards, it seemed to be newer than some of the library’s ancient tomes as parts of it were written in Common. Perhaps half, though, was written in Nader-canoch, and Orinei found herself pondering and searching for words every so often. She was conversational, but by no means absolutely fluent. She was nowhere near finished with the book; she had decided she would take her time, ruminating on each concept before moving to the next. At present, she had been reading about the Soulcore and Persona, wondering how she could possibly get ichor from her body without wounding herself noticeably. Wounds wouldn’t do, if she wanted to preserve her body and keep it reasonably attractive…syringes, perhaps? Leaving it there, she dog-eared the page, shut the book, and left it on the small nightstand. She stood, pulled her cloak over her simple black dress and boots, and left for Lab 15. She wasn’t exactly sure how to get there; she’d never visited the caverns before, and her apprehension was forcing her out of her quarters so that she’d have ample time to find her way around. She quietly closed the door of her chamber behind her, wondering what the most efficient way would be. She knew she could go through the dungeons…hell, she could probably find a door just about anywhere. However, she wasn’t about to aimlessly wander the caverns of Sahova, unaccompanied, until she found what she was looking for. Apparently luck was on her side, though; at that very moment, a sleepy-looking apprentice chose to exit his own chamber. She seized the opportunity. “Hey! You there!” she rounded on the man—he looked young enough to be a boy, as pale and sickly as the rest. A Nuit, though, she realized, as he stared at her unblinkingly, looking annoyed. She immediately changed her tone. “Oh, I’m…I’m sorry,” nodding her head in apology. “What’s the fastest way to the Caverns? I’m expected at Lab 15.” The other Nuit said nothing. He pointed at the other end of the hallway, where a large, arch-topped door stood. Looking at her strangely once more, he brushed past her as he walked away. Without a second thought, Orinei brusquely walked towards the door, heaving it open—it was heavy, and the hinges squeaked—and she found herself at the top of a very long, dimly lit staircase. She carefully navigated the steps: to miss one would be to sustain some serious injury. At the bottom, she found herself on Level 1 of the Caverns. “Only fourteen more to go,” she muttered, walking down the hall, past several doorways. At the end of each twisting cavern, another number would appear with a lighted arrow, pointing her way as she descended deeper and deeper into the bowels of the Citadel. It was a fairly uneventful journey, until she reached level five. That was where the noises began. Babbles, screams, shouts…though she wasn’t aware of it, these were Shrag’s interrogation experiments, and they were some of the most harrowing sounds she’d heard since she’d arrived. She considered herself strong, but even she couldn’t help but shudder as she walked, much more briskly than before, wanting out of this level as soon as possible. The caverns became uneventful once more (besides a few muffled explosion-like noises here and there), and her legs were beginning to tire. “Fourteen…” she counted, as she rounded the corner, wishing there was some sort of shortcut. “Fifteen.” The glowing number appeared before her, and she pressed on. She gasped as the cavern before her opened into a massive, bustling room, at the center of which was the largest golem Orinei had ever seen. Her jaw had hit the floor, at this point. There was chanting, the sounds of gears whirring and clicking, the shouts of wizards attempting to impart some piece of information on hapless apprentices. This must be Lab 15. Nobody seemed to be stopping her, and she was small (and darkly clothed) enough to ward off attention, so she simply began to wander. She couldn’t take her eyes off the gigantic, defunct golem in the center of the room; this resulted in her tripping directly over a follower golem that seemed to be going berserk, spinning in circles and making a shrill whistle sound as it whirled around the room. She vaguely wondered if Thomas was even here as she made a slow circuit of the room, trying to take it all in. She didn’t have to go far, though. She’d come upon a few of what looked like personal workstations. And lo and behold—Thomas. Poor boy, she thought, smiling a bit cynically as she noticed him. He was slumped over a table, barely in his chair, shivering and snoring, papers, books, and small bits of metal strewn across the table before him. She strolled over, dodging the whistling follower golem (Follower indeed—it won’t leave me alone, she thought), and crept up behind him until she stood directly on his right, so close as to almost touch him. She gently touched his shoulder, smirking, knowing he’d be angry as soon as he awoke that anything smelling of rotting fruit got so close to him. “Rise and shine, little human…” she said, almost playfully, her tone low but still loud enough to be heard over the din of the lab.

[Thomas Cosa]

The dim roar of the cavernous lab had lulled the blighted animator to sleep, his body permanently in cold fever. Thomas had struggled briefly against unevitable sleep, sloppily drawing designs for a hallucinated inspired golem; something that would make no sense to a healthy mind, or even to the sickened animator once he awoke.

The constant, monotonous drone of hammers, screws, and wheels squeaking stayed the human asleep, a backround of white noise.

Even still, the loud whispers of the undead stirred him, and startled, he awoke.

"Huh? Wh -- wheresmuhbed?" he slurred, mouth filled with dripping saliva, mucus slimed generously across his lower face. Thomas paused, confused and obviously unaware to his surrondings, at least momentarily.

"Who are you?" He asked, briskily, a moment of lucidity passing with a brief snort of his nose, "And whatdayawant?"

OOCbleh. short post. The next ones will be longer!

[Orinei]

The raised eyebrows that seemed so perpetually engrained on Orinei’s face raised higher, if possible. Who was she? She immediately soured on that, almost reflexively. She might have been new to Sahova—but she hadn’t expected anyone to forget her that quickly, even if it was some pulser so ill he was going insane. She did notice he seemed a tad more lucid today, though. Perhaps this wouldn’t be an utter waste of her time after all: if he remembered her, that was. One hand instinctively went to her hip, and she leaned her weight on her back foot, looking coolly annoyed. “Orinei,” she said, in a tone as cool as the look on her face. “I hope you haven’t forgotten why I’m here as promptly as you’ve forgotten my name, Thomas.” She couldn’t help but let a little smirk break over her lips as she stared down at him, prone as he was, nearly laying across his table. She generally didn't make a point of remembering pulsers' names. She subtly gestured at his table; not a broad sweep of her arm, more with her wrist, as if she had thrown a dice. “Animation. You said you’d teach me a thing or two. Remember?” The eyebrows—somewhat darker than her pale blonde hair, but still fair—raised again. She purposely made no mention of the deal they’d made—that in return, he would get an Embalming lesson. What little she knew, anyway. Maybe he forgot that too. OOC : Sorry mine was a little short too o.o Longer posts, later, all around, haha!

[Thomas Cosa]

Thomas stared silently, focusing on Orinei; djed pounding unnaturally, as the young mage willed it, coursing through his body, empowering his senses beyond their normal capabilities. New colors and scents assalted the youth, his body beginning to shake from the over indulgenced of information, and gradually less so as he focused on the Nuit-girl, the misty aura encasing her body familiar.

The deathness of her aura, the stink of rotting flesh marking her as Nuit. The absence of magic, unique.

Even in his sickened state, he remembered her, now.

"Oh," Thomas paused, his vision blurring as he forced a cut in the Djed flow, ceasing his magic, "Yes, you," he yawned, turning back to his pile of crunched papers and mucus, slowly organizing the messy desk, "The Nuitless magic," he coughed, motioning for Orinei to follow him.

"These," he gestured to a organized files, "Blueprints," he mumbled, "We have to build whatever, and then you animate," he said, his speech pattern off, but still, Thomas was more there then when they had last met, the effects of the Blight slowing wearing off.

"Pick One."

[Orinei]

The "Nuitless magic." So this is how it's going to be. She couldn't help but roll her eyes at his comment. He was a bit more outspoken than most of the other pulsers she'd come across so far; most of them (especially the fresh ones) kept their feelings to themselves on her lack of conventional magic, if if they disdained her for it.

She obligingly followed his lead, but was distracted; the clanging of hammers, the shouts of wizards, and the whistling of some Animated creation tugged at her attention. She couldn't help but stare around, eyes flicking from distraction to distraction. When he gestured to the blueprints, her attention returned quickly, and she nodded.

She wondered, though, what blueprint she'd even be able to build from, out of this collection. She was very inexperienced; she knew some very basic things about Animation, but hadn't utilized that knowledge in years. Gadgeteering was a completely different story--she knew nothing of carpentry or metalwork, having preferred to spend her time honing her cosmetic skills.

All the same, she began to slowly, surely work her way through the blueprints. She stopped to look at each one before flicking it away with deft fingers, trying to find one she liked. There were so many choices--golems on wheels, golems on spindly legs, diagrams of small objects fulfilling one purpose or another. She pulled out one after another, always replacing them carefully, trying to decide what it was she wanted to make. And then she saw it.

She pulled a very simple diagram from the blueprints, the papers quietly rustling as she did so. The drawing on the blueprint was very simple: a simple cube, a box. A box, she decided, that would be Animated to only open at her touch. That seemed simple enough--and if he couldn't help her make the box, she was sure she'd be able to find something adequate.

"This one," she said promptly, holding the diagram out to him. "Simple enough, I think. And it should only open when I touch it." Eyebrows raised, she waited for the young Animator's next instructions.

[Thomas Cosa]

"Fine," he replied, snatching the parchment from her hands, giving the blueprints a once over, "Simple, easy," Thomas coughed, wiping his mucus stained eyes.

"Metal?" Thomas asked, mostly to himself, and then nodded. It seemed whatever had hit him, as suddenly as it had come, was just as quickly leaving his system. Even still, his sentences were broken, his thoughts scattered. While the Blight had left his body unaffected, his mind had not faired so well.

"Metal," he nodded, answering himself, referring to the blueprints, "Eyes, loyalty by recognition, self-awareness directive...," Thomas' voice dropped, lost to his thoughts, "No, privacy initiatives and self-defense," he nodded, deciding on the latter two over the former.

"Here," Thomas shoved the blueprints towards the undead, "The Golems will collect the parts, Project 623 A, my desk, metal," he nodded, walking back to his workspace, under the impression Orinai had understood everything perfectly.

OOCSo, I figure if we did it this way, we can strech out the the gadgeteering process, and that way, both Orinei and Thomas can get points, instead of just Thomas.
Also, SO SORRY about the way, thank you so much for being patient.

this is the website I'm using for the box, just for your reference.

[Orinei]

It seemed to Orinei that the young wizard had something of a penchant for shoving things into her arms and walking away. First, in the library—the armful of books that had surprised her, nearly knocking her over. And now the blueprints—she nearly dropped them when he thrust them at her, but managed to save them with marginal crumpling. Perhaps she just wasn’t used to the quickness of humans; being a nuit, her movements were much slower, more calculated.

Shuffling the blueprints back together and rolling her eyes a bit at the human’s brisk pace, she followed, trying to keep up with him. Thomas’ words had confused her…privacy initiatives? Loyalty by recognition? They were not familiar terms, but she racked her brains for similar things in the readings she’d been doing since their last meeting. True, she’d only had the one night to prepare. The concepts were still foggy, but she could identify what he’d said as probably being directives. She smirked slightly as she arrived at his desk, still several paces behind Thomas. He had been less than friendly before—what would happen when she started asking questions?

Once they stood at his desk, she gently set the blueprints down, organizing them so they sat in a neat stack. There was a short, albeit awkward silence, before a golem bearing materials whirred up, stopping with a squeak. She was surprised; golems infrequently obeyed the whims of pulsers. Apparently there was something special about this one. The golem bore small, but thick sheets of metal; a set of blackened hinges lay atop the raw material.

Orinei’s glance flickered between the materials, the blueprints, and Thomas’ face several times before she spoke. “So…now what?” She was embarrassed by her uncertainty, but how else were they to get started? She wasn’t exactly a Gadgeteer quite yet.

OOC :

I. Am. SO SORRY that this took so long. I feel terrible.

[Thomas Cosa]

"We build," he sneered, roughly grabbing the materials from the golem, and placing them on the desk.

Thomas glanced over the blueprints, his hands brushing against the inked directions and planned designs. Wiping his sweat drenched brow, the young animator began to organize the various parts. The larger pieces, the walls and lid of the metal box, he laid to the side. He organized the various screws and nails by size, leaving the blackened hindges alone.

"Wrench and hammer," Thomas mumbled, shoving the metal tools in Orinei's face, only to place them besides the table.

Gently, and slowly, Thomas arranged two of the walls in an 'L' shaped fashion, and then, slowly, began to screw in the nails. It took a while, several times the nails would fall out prematurely, or the sickly animator would screw them in the wrong way, but eventually the screws stayed tight. Thomas carefully attached another wall in the same matter, and assuming Orinei was watching, he handed off the unfinished product, with a grunt, adding only, "FInish the box, and then come to the circle."

Leaving Orinei with the more technical work, Thomas focused on the magical. WIth a practiced hand, Thomas quickly traced a large enough circle that would allow either him or the Nuit inside. Then, the young animator drew a much smaller circle, later connecting the two with a hastily drawn line.

"Glyphs," Thomas mumbled as he examined the rough drawing, looking for any kind breaks in the runes. Even the smallest gap would mark the animation as a failure.

Thomas crouched down, slowly detailing the circle with glyphs.

"Pechi," he whispered 'unity' in the ancient tongue, slowly drawing the form. Two crescents opposed the other, intersecting at the half. The tops connecting, forming a small segment, but leaving two ends untied. Thomas then carefully attached the two with a third crescent, fully connecting the image. He would place three of these glyphs, surronding the golem, inside the circle. This would encourage a much faster binding, allowing everything Thomas wished to fully connect with the soulcore, and then to the golem.

"Pond,", again whispering in the ancient tongue, drawing two perpindicular lines over the line. 'Balance' or 'Pond' in the ancient tongue would encourage the Djed to move smoothly, balancing each end and an even flow, something easier for the young mage to control.

"Yaq," or round in the ancient tongue. Thomas quickly drew arched lines, surrounding both circles, hoping to curve any lost of Djed. The more djed, the quicker the animation. Besides, the young animator had rushed this particular circle, the chalk drawing looking more squarish in some areas -- the 'yaq' glyph would help curve the Djed in a more gentle fashion, allowing Thomas to exert more control over the natural Djed that would work during the animation process.

Whenever Orinei should approach him, Thomas would motion for her to sit in the larger circle, and take the finish box over to the smaller circle.

"Ready?"

[Orinei]

Finish the box.

He might as well have said “eat your shoes.” Orinei was an embalmer. She was versed in the ways of how to find a vein, how to preserve a body, how to apply cosmetics. Build a box? Darkly amused, she realized that this tiny task, probably negligibly simple for any of Sahova’s Animators, was maybe the hardest thing she’d encountered yet. Thankfully, she had been watching as he half-built the box, and as he put the tools on the table (but not before shoving them in her face—again with the shoving things at her) she nodded slowly, attempting to remember the exact order in which he’d done it. The way the screws were falling out when he’d done it did little to boost her confidence; it did serve her, though, in that she now knew he might not be as experienced a Gadgeteer as she’d originally thought. And that made her feel a little better.

It was not helpful, however, that he immediately began the magical part of their little project before she’d had a chance to finish the box. As a result, her building of the box was rather haphazard as she attempted to multi-task watching him draw the circles and glyphs while assembling the metal walls.

Gingerly, she took the box—now with three walls, but no base or lid—and set it carefully atop the piece of metal that would serve as its base. Attempting to imitate what Thomas had done, she inserted a screw, wrenching it in and attempting to twist it in. It wasn’t quite straight, and it became stuck. Muttering curses under her breath already, she managed to extricate it, and began again, this time bracing the box against her midsection as she inserted the screw once more. She made sure it was straight, and slowly turned it. Her hands shook slightly and the screw wobbled, but made it all the way in—one down, only a million to go. After several more painstakingly applied screws (and several more mishaps with said screws), the box had a base.

Taking a momentary break, she ran her fingers over the sides of the box, rather pleased with herself. Her hands were blackened from the dirt on the metal, her manicured fingers showing signs of dark dirt beneath them. She wrinkled her nose at this. She supposed the grime was all part of this magic, though…even if it was a step she would have preferred to skip. Sorting through the last pieces of the unfinished box, she pulled what she assumed to be the lid from the pile, followed by the two hinges, blackened with grease.

What next? She had several options, but it wasn’t as if there was an instruction manual. Should she attach the hinges to the box’s lid first, then attach the hinges to the back of the now mostly-complete box? Or vice versa? Or balance the lid on the box and attach the hinges that way? She pondered it for a moment, biting her lip a bit hesitantly. She glanced at Thomas, wondering if she should ask for help, but her haughtiness took over. With a firm gesture she grabbed a hinge in one hand, and the box lid in the other. Her technique with the screws was still terrible, but after a bit of fighting with it, she managed to attach one hinge to the lid, only slightly crookedly. With only a short break, she then began attaching the other. It went slightly easier, though she did have to pull out the screw twice after not screwing it in straight. There. The lid had hinges. And now, the final step.

She rested the lid atop the constructed box, letting the backside of the hinges fall over their prescribed holes in the back of the box. It was slightly crooked, again; one side of the box seemed to be ever-so-slightly taller than the other. All the same, she didn’t think it was bad for a first go. With the last couple of screws, she attached the hinges to the back of the box, and had a tiny moment of euphoria when she found that it did, indeed, open and close (if a little creakily).

As she’d been working on the box, she’d missed some of what Thomas was doing with the circles, though she recognized the Ancient Tongue when she heard it—she even understood what he was saying. In between wrenching in screws she’d craned her neck to see him, making note of his steps. And when she was finished, cradling her box proudly, she slowly stepped toward the circles he had drawn.

It wasn’t like Orinei to take orders from humans, particularly one that looked as young as this one did. Right now, though, she could see through her pride, albeit foggily. She was out of her element here—and though she’d done very simple Animation decades ago, she decided to swallow her self-righteousness and learn whatever it was this boy had to offer.

At his direction, she placed her haphazard creation in the center of the small circle, and then stepped back to sit cross-legged in the larger of the circles. Eyebrows raised curiously, she stared up at him unblinkingly. “Ready.”

[Thomas Cosa]

Thomas nodded, retrieving a small dagger from his desk.

Kneeling down before the ritualized drawings, Thomas spoke to Orinei, "I will direct the Djed, and so in exchange for that control, I spill my own blood," he whispered, a pained expression on his paled face as the sharpened edge cut across his skin. "The circle mustn't break," he warned, looking directly at the nuit girl, "Don't move unless I say," he nodded, squeezing his hand, his blood spiling over the chalk dust.

Out of nowhere, a blinding gust would spill into the circles, Djed ripe with virgin power. Orinei would surely feel the Djed pulling and pushing at her form, raw energy rolling over her dead skin.

And with a flick of his wrist, Thomas demanded control over the wild Djed, and began to form the soul core.

Thomas forced the Djed in a figure eight, beginning the pattern. Mentally, the young animator pulled and tugged at the wild energy, willing to move as he wished. Forcing the uncontrollable energy under his dominion.

With each passing revolution, the Djed would tug and pull on Orinei, attempting to rid the Nuit of her soul. Violating her very being, the magic would ram and attack, but her soul would stay. Thomas gasped soundlessly as he forced the whirling power, instructing it to form a copy of Orinei's soul. Power and Energy pulsed throughout the circles, pulling and tugging at the nuit's very core, feeling as if he was ripping out her soul.

Thomas focued the Djed at the smaller circle, the copy being truly formed.

With a sign, Thomas nodded at the undead girl, "Next, the directives. You understand what I will be doing?" he asked plainly.