50th of Summer, 518 - 9th bell.
Savis Maren grew more accustomed and more accustomed to her djed mutations by the day. She realized, far too late, that the source of her ire was the practice of magic and what a brilliant irony the entire thing was. The Nuit came to Lhavit in hopes of freedom from the dangers of the world. She'd come to realize that danger followed her wherever she went. It was the shadow of Dira cast in the nothingness, beseeching her to cast immortality aside and join her. She thought endlessly of her nature and the defiance to Kihala that it encompassed, but yet she persisted. The Nuit was not unaware of djed and how it worked. Her practice of magic long exposed her to the effects of overgiving. It was possible that her suffering might come to a natural end and she went on with the belief, uncertain but present, in her heart. The undead woman already made her decision to persist and instead took to her word in stride. Edward Lucis provided the Nuit with a list of tasks to accomplish and she had the mind to complete them without disrupting the Gadgeteer as he worked.
The Animator picked up stray nuts and bolts from the floor, carrying with her a rucksack strung across her shoulder. Lug nuts and gears were scattered on the ground, gathering dust and if left in their place, would be rendered useless by the passage of time. The Nuit also employed the use of a broom and dustpan, doing her utmost to keep Lucis' workstations tidy before she separated herself from the gadgeteer. She seldom watched the door. Customers often ordered their items in advance and were all too willing to wait for assistance, prompting the Nuit to prioritize tasks that kept Lucis comfortable and free of worry. Savis' pace was brisk and her actions concise, for Edward was currently engaged in the assembly of something that was clearly far beyond her realm of comprehension. The gadgeteer was double checking on schematics that involved powerful pumps that set through the entire city. She didn't pretend to understand everything her boss did.
Rather than linger and cause herself more headaches, the Animator decided to continue on through to the next building. Nimbly enough, the Nuit advanced into the decidedly less busy building. The workrooms were empty, but she was quite keen to continue on with her tasks regardless. The Nuit swept through workroom after room, using a duster to clean out drawers within desks and sanctify the surfaces before she moved to treat the last building the same way. The exhibit hall, as Savis called it, was the most important room of them all. Customers often visited this room to observe examples of Lucis' finest work. Marvels of machinery from schematics for large-scale irrigation to constructs suited to becoming arcane automatons. This room was her treasure, but also her bane. The design of a great many of the gizmos and constructs within had Savis hunched forward or standing on her toes in order to ensure that all sides of each machine were being tended to and she only hqd proper usage of a single arm. The Nuit saw fit to open the curtains and let light spill into the place, bringing to light each facet of each gleaming construct. It was a rare, lucid moment of serenity in the otherwise dreary days she faced.The Nuit found that in her efforts her left arm locked up. It twitched with the effort to move but did not respond to her demands. It was left in place while Savis continued to look over the armaments within the room, satisfied with a job well done. Savis Maren looked towards one of the several clocks within the room to find that two bells passed in her efforts. How quickly the time seemed to go, and yet... she still had several more bells to go before she was free.
What to do... What to do... she mused as she adjusted the strap to her rucksack. The Voice Box was a moment's notice away in the event that it was needed, though the Nuit suspected it would remain unnecessary.
WC: 695
Savis Maren grew more accustomed and more accustomed to her djed mutations by the day. She realized, far too late, that the source of her ire was the practice of magic and what a brilliant irony the entire thing was. The Nuit came to Lhavit in hopes of freedom from the dangers of the world. She'd come to realize that danger followed her wherever she went. It was the shadow of Dira cast in the nothingness, beseeching her to cast immortality aside and join her. She thought endlessly of her nature and the defiance to Kihala that it encompassed, but yet she persisted. The Nuit was not unaware of djed and how it worked. Her practice of magic long exposed her to the effects of overgiving. It was possible that her suffering might come to a natural end and she went on with the belief, uncertain but present, in her heart. The undead woman already made her decision to persist and instead took to her word in stride. Edward Lucis provided the Nuit with a list of tasks to accomplish and she had the mind to complete them without disrupting the Gadgeteer as he worked.
The Animator picked up stray nuts and bolts from the floor, carrying with her a rucksack strung across her shoulder. Lug nuts and gears were scattered on the ground, gathering dust and if left in their place, would be rendered useless by the passage of time. The Nuit also employed the use of a broom and dustpan, doing her utmost to keep Lucis' workstations tidy before she separated herself from the gadgeteer. She seldom watched the door. Customers often ordered their items in advance and were all too willing to wait for assistance, prompting the Nuit to prioritize tasks that kept Lucis comfortable and free of worry. Savis' pace was brisk and her actions concise, for Edward was currently engaged in the assembly of something that was clearly far beyond her realm of comprehension. The gadgeteer was double checking on schematics that involved powerful pumps that set through the entire city. She didn't pretend to understand everything her boss did.
Rather than linger and cause herself more headaches, the Animator decided to continue on through to the next building. Nimbly enough, the Nuit advanced into the decidedly less busy building. The workrooms were empty, but she was quite keen to continue on with her tasks regardless. The Nuit swept through workroom after room, using a duster to clean out drawers within desks and sanctify the surfaces before she moved to treat the last building the same way. The exhibit hall, as Savis called it, was the most important room of them all. Customers often visited this room to observe examples of Lucis' finest work. Marvels of machinery from schematics for large-scale irrigation to constructs suited to becoming arcane automatons. This room was her treasure, but also her bane. The design of a great many of the gizmos and constructs within had Savis hunched forward or standing on her toes in order to ensure that all sides of each machine were being tended to and she only hqd proper usage of a single arm. The Nuit saw fit to open the curtains and let light spill into the place, bringing to light each facet of each gleaming construct. It was a rare, lucid moment of serenity in the otherwise dreary days she faced.The Nuit found that in her efforts her left arm locked up. It twitched with the effort to move but did not respond to her demands. It was left in place while Savis continued to look over the armaments within the room, satisfied with a job well done. Savis Maren looked towards one of the several clocks within the room to find that two bells passed in her efforts. How quickly the time seemed to go, and yet... she still had several more bells to go before she was free.
What to do... What to do... she mused as she adjusted the strap to her rucksack. The Voice Box was a moment's notice away in the event that it was needed, though the Nuit suspected it would remain unnecessary.
WC: 695
