Completed [Shipyard] Fringe Benefits

[Eleret]

Winter 72, 512 AV evening As Winter progressed, even Eleret had noticed that the count of men in the workshop was dropping -- though she still felt like there were plenty of other people present. But then, she didn't see the workshop with the eyes of its manager, accustomed to the frenetic pace and production of the shipyard as a whole; and in the eyes of the manager, fewer productive bodies meant more labor for those who remained. Some had been moved from the last shift to the first, increasing their output by some percentage points and contributing to Eleret's impression of a populous workforce (relative to the artisanal methods more typical of Konti). It just didn't increase it enough. So Eleret was still working this evening, well past the bell at which she would have gone home in previous times. She was still slow at her work compared to many of the more experienced carvers -- though not as slow as she had been before exposure to mass-manufacture pressures. It was a point of pride, that the Konti was improving -- and that she did as much work as anyone else, even if it meant staying late. With the vacancies illness had lately put in the woodworkers' ranks, one tardy crafter at the tables posed no issues in seating. The pile of blanks in her bin was thankfully diminishing; she could even see the bottom now. Eleret took the next one out and drew careful lines with charcoal on the larger sides of her rectangular blank. One long line delineating the arm of the cleat, then a sharp curve and flaring out as it met with the bottom edge, defining the base. She drew its mirror image on the other side, then lightly clamped the blank onto the bench's edge. Taking up the coping saw -- a long thin blade bracketed by a sturdy frame with its own handle -- Eleret then set about cutting along the sketched lines in turn.

[Eleret]

"Here, Fishy," came a voice from behind her, genial in tone for all the irreverence of the name employed. Eleret glanced over to see Loran, who usually sat a couple places down on the same row, lean down to rummage among her blanks. "Lemme do these. I'd like to get outta here 'afore midnight bell." Hyperbole on his part -- it had never taken her until midnight, or even close to that. But he had a valid point all the same -- it was their turn to clear out the bins after shift, and neither could leave until that was done. Eleret nodded recognition and went back to her present task, the better to get it finished. The saw moved easily through the wood with each pull, the rasping of its motion somewhat muffled by competition with the other noises of the workshop. Turning the handle incrementally with each pass produced the curving sweep she needed; then Eleret continued on through to the bottom edge of the block, carefully separating the cutout from the core and dropping it in the scrap bin. She set the saw aside, unclamped the block to turn it around and bring the other side to front, then cut in the same manner along the second charcoal line. Both were rough cuts, no more than defining the desired shape; for all the simplicity of the piece, it had to be made just so, and that required more steps before it left her hands. Taking it out and holding the wood up before the nearby lamp, Eleret studied the edges, checking angles and symmetry; she used a small knife to make several corrections, shaving away a layer of material on one side so it matched the curve of the other. Finally, she ran a file over the pointed corners, rasping them down to smooth bumps. Sanding the rest of it was no longer her task, and she dumped that one into the proper bin before moving on to the next. It was perhaps another half-bell before Eleret's reaching hand found only an empty bin, and she looked up to see Loran waiting with clear impatience a short distance away. "I am done," she informed him, rising from her seat.

[Eleret]

"'Bout time," he said, his tone gruff but not as hostile as the words alone implied. "You go get the roller," Loran continued, jerking his head towards the end of the row where said item was kept. Eleret nodded in return, jogging down and hauling it out from under the table -- nothing more than a large square of wood with simple wheels underneath, but useful beyond measure in moving the bins around. She brought it back and set it on the ground beside her own 'finished' bin, no further prompting needed. Eleret then walked around to another side, letting Loran stand nearer to the roller. The Konti set her hands into the holes on either face of the bin and drew a deep breath, then let it out again. She exhaled stray thoughts and concerns, let lingering tension seep out from her muscles, and focused on the task at hand. When she felt ready, she nodded to Loran -- and hauled upwards as hard as she could. She strained with the effort for a moment, one which in actuality was quite short but felt rather longer as she struggled to shift the bin. Then Loran stepped in to lift the other side, easing a noticeable portion of the load on her muscles; it took him far less effort to raise the bin the necessary few inches. Which was why he was the one to kick the roller underneath, and to give the word to put it back down once the mobile platform was in place. Eleret breathed out a grateful sigh when she was able to let go, taking a moment to rub her thumbs into her arms before nodding to her partner. He nodded back, then went off to relocate another roller and bin while she dealt with this one. He didn't really need her help to do this task -- but she was here nonetheless, because that didn't make it any less a part of her responsibilities. Meanwhile, Eleret lined up with the proper destination, set her shoulder against the bin, and shoved. Her feet slipped over the floor at first, without much force being transmitted to the bin; the wheels beneath it didn't so much as budge. Huffing to herself, she shifted the placement of her feet and tried again. This time, there was a moment of nothing happening except exertion -- and then the wheels began to turn, however grudgingly.

[Eleret]

Once it had started, it was relatively easy to keep the bin moving; she just had to keep shoving. The downside was that it only traveled in a straight line, and it proved to be that her initial trajectory wasn't quite in line with the cart which was her destination. Twice, Eleret had to stop, shift her position, and shove the bin into motion all over again. At least those times, she managed to get it started right off. By the time Eleret had the bin in place near the larger cart she'd been working it towards, Loran had come and gone and was on his way back again with another bin to dump. He gave her an encouraging gesture as he approached, shoving his own along with the seeming ease of one long-accustomed to the heavy work. She didn't think it really was easy for him -- but he didn't draw up with a relieved sigh the way she had, either. They both reached into their respective bins and hauled out shaped cleats by the armload, dumping them by turns into the waiting cart. Bits of sawdust and grit caked on Eleret's hands and started sticking to the film of sweat accumulating on her brow; uncomfortable as it was, she made no attempt to rub it off. The dust on her hands and arms would only make the matter worse. "So you know, Fishy," Loran remarked as they then filled the empty bins with blanks from another cart and set about shoving them back the other way. He could speak while pushing his bin along, too -- though it took some obvious effort, the words timed to his breathing rather than the other way around. It probably helped that he was moving at closer to her pace than his -- the better to talk. "Sounds like there's another bettin' pool coming together. Anyway, folks were nattering over lunch, the way they do. Bet it'll be all official, as much as that can be official, by tomorrow." Eleret was afraid to ask. She could pick up enough of a moodscent to distinguish amusement, and that was worrisome -- if it amused Loran and was worth bringing up, the subject of the bet was probably her. Fortunately, with all of her energy tied up in the effort of moving her bin, she had an excuse not to ask right away.

[Eleret]

Unfortunately, Loran wasn't going to wait forever for her to ask. He only waited until they were back at their respective stations, adjacent on the row. He hefted his own bin off the roller and nudged the wheeled platform out from underneath, then walked over to take the other side of hers. Eleret had been half-leaning against the empty bin, but straightened as he approached, grabbing the hold on her side of the bin. Empty as it was, she could -- barely -- have managed lifting it herself. It was just safer, and far smarter, to have help. Even insufferable help. "Anyway, since it's clear you're sticking around and all..." Loran paused, and lifted up on the bin; Eleret belatedly braced herself and hauled her own side up, neither as far nor as steadily, and breathlessly held it there while he kicked the wheeled platform aside. Even empty, putting the bin down a beat later was a relief. "The guys all seem to figure it's only a matter of time afore you go out walking with one of 'em some fine evening." Loran leaned down and scooped up the wheeled platform, repositioning it beside Eleret's bin containing the day's wood scraps. "After all, spring's comin' up soon enough, and there's lots of pretty little coves around the way." He made these statements in a perfectly deadpan tone, and it took a moment for the sense of his words to penetrate, even with the Konti's gift rendering transparent the amusement Loran worked so to mask. Eleret closed her eyes for a moment, knowing her face had undoubtedly turned bright red at his implication -- the curse of her race's pale coloring. She shook her head, initially unable to frame anything resembling a reply; without looking at Loran, she moved around the side of the scrap bin. When she got there, set her hands in place, and then pretty much had to look across at the man, she could see he was making exactly zero effort now to hide or even dim his smug grin. Suspicion tickled the back of her mind, and her eyes narrowed. "You started it, yes?" "Lift!" Loran declared, deliberately delaying his answer; obedient to the instruction, because the work came first, Eleret tightened her grip and lifted, feeling her muscles start to complain of fatigue as they held the raised bin in place. Even though it was only just long enough for her companion to push the platform into place. She breathed out in relief as they put it back down, and caught Loran's sharp glance as she unconsciously rubbed at one of her shoulders. "Aw, Fishy-girl, you think I'd do something like that?" was his only statement. That, and a wave for her to move aside, as Loran set himself behind the bin and shoved it forward in her stead. Eleret shook her head slightly and followed in his wake; she would still help unload. Even if he was an insufferable nuisance in other ways.

[Eleret]

Loran had waited until she caught up to start unloading. The scrap wood also went into carts, one armful a time; with both of them pulling material out of the same bin, it at once went slower -- in that one had to wait for the other to clear the bin before removing more -- and faster than doing the same work alone. "What did you bet?" Eleret asked, during one brief wait for Loran to move. She simply couldn't help asking, even if the subject -- the idea that there was so much interest in her personal life among the uncouth near-strangers most of said 'guys' still were -- made her quite uncomfortable. Loran looked over at her, and chuckled. "Pretty sure that's against the spirit of things," he replied as he dropped wood into the cart. Where the other carts would transfer the shaped cleats down to the sanding tables, these were ultimately destined for the furnaces which heated the various yard buildings. "Can't have you helpin' me win and all. Then 'gain, I figure I've got enough of a read on you to be right." The last pieces thudded onto the pile as he spoke. "Don't figure you'll be going walking with anybody here. You're not a yard rat, really, even if you work here -- and you'd 'bout have to be to take up with one." The man grinned at her. "Go on, tell me I'm wrong." Eleret shook her head as she hauled wood out of the bin in turn. "No. I think you are not wrong." She paused while transferring the wood, at the edge of her vision seeing him lean in for another armload in the meantime. "I do not think I will stay here so long -- a couple of seasons, maybe. Then I will move on." Her turn again -- only half an armload this time, as the bin was just about empty. Loran plucked the last few pieces out of the bottom, tossing them unceremoniously into the cart. "'Bout what I thought. But you're a pretty little fish-girl, and the rest of 'em don't see more'n that." That grin again. "So I might as well learn 'em a lesson, huh? And if I get a few mizas off it, well, all the better for me, innit?" The Konti shook her head again, partly bemused, partly chiding, partly... well, really, she just didn't understand the man's thinking. It seemed to be cultural; at least, the others in the workshop took as readily to betting as Loran, and seemed to have the same outlook on it. "Maybe," was all Eleret said as she moved around the now-empty bin -- only to have the other worker forestall her. "Nah," he said, "whyn't you let me take that back? I've still got mine to do and all. You go on; shift's over, and there'll be plenty work for all of us tomorrow."

[Eleret]

Eleret let him take her bin back to the bench, the empty container practically sailing over the floor as Loran put effort into moving it. She shook her head a bit at the ease with which he moved it, being male and human and well-adjusted to shipyard work. Maybe if she worked more on her suvai and swimming, she'd be better able to keep up with the men here when it came to the pure physical effort. Along with just plain continuing to work here, of course. Rather than heading straight for the door, the Konti woodcarver drifted down along the row of carts -- one for each side of each bench, and there were a number of benches in the workshop. Everyone's scrap wood wound up in one of these, and not everyone cut away pieces as small as the cleats required removed. Sometimes, she could find pieces fit for other uses -- smaller uses, decorative uses, where the wood would not be put under the force of taut ropes or the heavy hands of sailors. Wood like the lovely piece of golden oak she found in one bin, about twice the size of both her fists put together, if irregularly shaped in how it had been cut away from a larger piece. Eleret leaned in and fished it out, considering the shape and the lay of the grain; she could almost see a fish in it, and thought it would definitely be salvageable for artistic purposes. Scanning another bin further down, she found something strange -- a piece of wood which didn't look like a scrap at all. Nearly the length of her arm and somewhat thicker, it was a reddish color with a fine grain Eleret hadn't seen before. She pulled it out too, turning it over to find a scar gouged the length of the bough -- a split which penetrated partway into the wood, the color slightly greyed on either side. But the split wasn't so deep it couldn't have been cut away, leaving the rest of the wood to be used -- and there were any number of small things it should have been used for. Eleret frowned down at it, running her fingers thoughtfully over the scar.

[Eleret]

"Still here, Fishy?" a familiar voice broke into her reverie. Then quiet ensued, rather than another quip. Eleret looked up to find Loran scowling at the wood in her hands. She glanced between it and him. "There is a problem?" the Konti prompted. "No, no problem. That," he continued, jerking his chin towards the wood, "shouldn't have come in here in th'first place. That mark there's from a lightning strike, y'see. Zulrav's claimed the tree that came from. Can't have that kind of stuff on a ship. Might call more lightning to it, and then the ship'll burn right down, and the crew with it." He looked closely at Eleret. "You thinking of doing something with it?" Eleret pursed her lips and considered the wood. She could understand his superstition, but couldn't share it -- perhaps because what she would do with the piece wouldn't likely involve any ship parts at all. At heart, the Konti remained an artist. "It is a shame to burn," she replied after due thought. "The wood is good otherwise. I do not know what it would be, but... yes, I would like to." She adjusted it to hold along her arm, gripping the wood securely. "You do not mind? It will not be here, not be part of any ship." Loran shrugged, spreading his hands. "Your risk, Fishy. Go for it. And who knows, maybe it's just a piece of wood after all." He shrugged again, then waved at the Konti and walked off through the workshop. Eleret looked down at the length of wood she held, rubbing the fingers of her other hand absently against the scar. Tucking the smaller piece of oak away as well, she too took her leave of the shop and headed home, musing on superstitions and their origins all the while.

[Cloud]

From the sky falls your reward!

Eleret :

Experience
Skill | XP Earned
Carving | +1
Body Building | +2
Socialization | +1
Drawing | +1

Lores
• | Lore Earned
• | Dwindling Numbers From the Plague
• | Loran's Bet
• | Superstition: Zulrav's Wood

Misc! :

Eleret receives 2 pieces of wood! Be sure to specify the type of wood it is while its in your possessions.

Question marks to be made? Exclamations to declare? Feel free to send me a pm and we can tend to any concerns you have.