(Untitled)

[mogget_cat]

Yrael is lounging on his favorite couch, a thick, leather-bound book open on his lap. He's not even half paying attention to it, however, as he draws a long sequence of Charter Marks into the air before him. Each burns with bright fire for a moment before fading to hang unseen in the air, which grows thick with the concentrated magic of the spell

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[forge_fire]

The fire in the air pulls the attention of someone sitting not far away, who looks at the Marks while they last and then looks at the air.

Then he stands, hobbling over.

[mogget_cat]

The pale young man with the bright cat's eyes is muttering quickly to himself, calling up the Marks he knows he will need. It's like dipping down into a well and pulling up water, continuously. Pulling them from the Charter, through himself and into the air, linking them together more intricately than any chain should be.

"...Peota-Wonai-Horok-Skcor-Cigam-Dliw-Nigea-Liget...Ack!" He has just enough time to shield his eyes from the minor explosion that results. Grumbling more than muttering, now, he reaches for a thick notebook full of notes and adds a few more to their number.

[forge_fire]

He leans on his cane and peers at the notebook.

[mogget_cat]

Yrael scribbles down symbols in a curious shorthand, tiny lines connecting them all in a mesh pattern that almost resembles DNA, almost resembles a 3D model of a terrifically complicated molecule set to paper.

Intending to try again, Yrael looks up, only to find his notes being eyed.

"Good evening," he says, smiling at the stranger. He'll never begrudge anyone their curiosity. "Just a project I'm working on."

[forge_fire]

He quirks an eyebrow and nods to the seat across from Yrael. May he?

[mogget_cat]

"Feel free," he says, nodding. He's not using the seat, after all.

[forge_fire]

He sits. And peers at the books and the notes and what used to be the magic.

[mogget_cat]

Yrael eyes the one peering as his work. "Charter Magic," he explains. "I'm making a heart."

[forge_fire]

That has his eyes widening.

"Who needs a heart?"

The clang of hammers, the roar of flames, the shift of magma. That's his voice.

[mogget_cat]

There's an interesting voice, now. Yrael is one to pay attention to what voices can tell him, even more so than the words they are used to utter. If Yrael were in any other shape, his ears would be visibly perked at Hephaestos.

"A friend of mine by the name of Axel."

[forge_fire]

That makes the smile warm.

He holds up a finger and reaches back into a pocket in his pants before pulling out a small notebook. There's a couple of pages turned before he looks from his notes to Yrael.

"You too?"

[mogget_cat]

And that brings out Yrael's smile.

Though, to be honest, it's more of a grin.

It's always more of a grin.

It means he's enjoying this.

"Seems so," he says, his grin bright. "You'd be Hephaestos, then?"

[forge_fire]

He nods.

"Yrael?"

[mogget_cat]

"Pleased to meet you," he says, inclining his head.

After a small glance at Hephaestos' own notebook, Yrael quirks an eyebrow. "A similar project, perhaps?"

[forge_fire]

He nods again, pulling a cup of wine close and taking a sip. He nods to another cup that may only be there if he decides he wants it.

"What're you having trouble with?"

[mogget_cat]

He takes the other cup and raises it slightly in thanks.

"Few remaining details. The physical aspects of the heart are relatively simple, by now. The emotional aspect I can do. The memories: I am getting assistance. I just need to get a good look at a complete, healthy, working heart to fill in the last gaps... and I need help to make the heart with enough fire of its own that it doesn't just burn up and die once it's made."