((RP Log: Arlen, Aloysius, and Courtney))
Courtney sends Arlen a text message by PINpoint, inviting him to tea at her place at 2:00 in the afternoon. She promises snacks, as well. On the day in question, she is busy in the kitchen, setting out muffins and fruit and making the tea as Ned and Fisher wind around her ankles.
Aloysius finds himself glad to stay in today, after his excursion to the Nexus the day before. Up in his study, he keeps an eye on the wards as he buries himself in last-minute research on alchemy.
Arlen will come to the edge of the wards with his briefcase and his teapot. He takes everything he owns with him everywhere.
Courtney feels the tug on the wards and hurries to open the door. “Hey. C’mon in.”
He looks at an anchor point and then steps through warily. “Good afternoon Miss Crumrin.” Arlen comes up the porch to meet her and hopes it’s sturdy.
It’s sturdier than it looks. Ned peers out the door behind her, blinking wide yellow eyes. Courtney gestures Arlen in. “C’mon to the kitchen. The tea’s ready.”
Aloysius is slow to descend, sensing the visitor’s entrance and listening for his voice below.
Arlen nods politely at Ned. His voice is a little on the quiet side and very flat and calm. “Thank you. I seem to be having a very social week.”
“Yeah, I heard you were having tea with a friend of mine.”
Ned grins toothily. “Muh!”
“Miss Branigan?” He blinks at her and then studies the kitchen chairs. “She was very kind to have me visit.”
The chairs are fairly sturdy, made of wood. Old world craftsmanship. “Yeah,” She nods. “We’ve known each other a few years.”
Ned scrambles up onto a chair as if to show Arlen how it’s done.
“I do not know many people but we have spoken many times.” He sits very carefully in another chair and listens to it creak under him.
Aloysius comes to the doorway nicely dressed, with shoes. If Arlen is hired, he will certainly see the warlock at his worst, but for a first impression he’d like to command respect.
Courtney gets out the muffins and fruit. “Let the guest have first pick, Ned.” Then she serves tea. “Hey, Uncle A. You look nice.”
“You both have such good food.” Arlen is impressed by muffins! He gets up to greet Aloysius and gives a little bow. “Good afternoon, sir.”
Aloysius nods, entering the kitchen with a hint of stiffness after yesterday’s jaunt. “Good afternoon Mr. Arkenstone. Or is there a title?” Being so particular about his own, he’ll grant others that right, too.
Courtney shrugs. “I baked ‘em. Fair warning. Mr. Arkenstone, this is my uncle, Aloysius Crumrin. Oh. Professor Crumrin.” She forgets the title because he’s just Uncle A. to her.
“No sir, Just Mr. Or Arlen.” He doesn’t care much about formality for himself.
Giving a nod, Aloysius settles himself in a chair and regards the muffins with a wary eye.
“They’re butterscotch-chip,” She says, and nudges the plate toward Arlen first. She puts a saucer of milk on the floor for Fisher.
Fisher rubs against her as she puts it down, tail waving, and whispers, “He smells like metal.”
“Thank you.” Arlen sits again and takes off his gloves. “Please do not be distressed over my adaptations Professor, they are more drastic than what I have in mind for you.”
Aloysius is too polite to stare at the prosthetic hands, but he does look disconcerted. “And what do you have in mind?”
Courtney strokes Fisher and nods her understanding. She likes getting his first impressions.
When she sits up again, she can’t help but stare at his hands a little, her expression revealing that she hadn’t seen them before. She says nothing, though, sipping her tea.
Ned sniffs curiously, from a polite distance.
“My hands were lost in an accident. I would have preferred the originals. My heart is also inorganic. Glass and magic, and other things… I would make yours lighter, more… refined than mine is.” He takes a muffin delicately with bone fingers.
“…I see. How many hearts have you made?” Aloysius can’t help but be wary of all this.
“Isn’t glass awfully fragile?”
“As much as flesh. It does not corrode. My heart has worked for decades without mishap. I helped to make my own, and I have made experiments since. I lack the facilities now.”
“Experiments?” One bushy eyebrow rises, and Aloysius folds his arms over his chest in a subconsciously protective gesture.
“How does it beat?” Courtney looks curious.
“There is extensive magic involved, and a form of perpetual motion device. You… may have an extensive look at my own prosthetics, of course. But perhaps not at the table.” He looks very uneasy about this.
“…It’s… visible?” Aloysius is wearing his most severe frown.
~Keep an open mind, Uncle A. It sounds interesting as a learning experience, at least.~
“Finish your tea first, and relax,” Courtney says aloud, trying to smooth things over. “We’ll talk about it.”
“Mine is externally visible. I would not intend yours to be.” Arlen sips his tea. “This is a matter of trust for me as well sir. I have been taken advantage of, in the past.”
Unsure how to respond to Arlen, Aloysius continues to frown. ~The more I hear of this, the less I like it. Glass and clockworks…~
~What do you think artificial hearts are made of in this world? Probably the same stuff. Maybe metal, I dunno. We can’t get you a flesh one without a donor, you know.~ She sends gently. “We’re not going to hurt you,” She tells Arlen apologetically.
“No… Other students of magic have less inclination to.” Arlen nods.
~Plastic, mostly.~ Aloysius is quite well-informed on this subject, although he does not trust the electronic workings of a modern heart, either. “We have no interest in exploitation, but I’d like to know your background.”
~Well? Is that any better?~ Courtney pets Ned and gives him half a muffin.
“My original leaning was strongly to magic, but I worked through my hands. Unless you are asking of my schooling?”
~no, but it’s not an option, either.~ Aloud Aloysius says, “Do they have magic schools, in your world?”
Courtney raises an eyebrow at her uncle, feeling he’s missed her point, but at least he hasn’t sent Arlen away.
“No. Magic was not publicly acknowledged, when I was young, and now…” Arlen shrugs. “Now my world is in disarray and our gods walk as men. People are wary of magic, but it is less strange when everything is strange. Is your professorship in magic?” He is interested now.
“It is. I used to teach at the Coven school. What happened to your world?”
“What do you mean your gods walk as men?” Courtney asks, almost interrupting her uncle.
“And one woman. Except Death, but even he has a physical address. They walk, look like people. Eat. Sleep. I think…” He doesn’t sound impressed with them. “There was a cataclysmic… something, that fractured the world. Destroyed buildings, damaged all our memories. Many of the people are gone.”
Aloysius gives her a mildly reproving frown, but as his question has been answered, he sees no point to scolding her.
Courtney gives Aloysius an apologetic look, then stares at Arlen in shock. “That’s awful… I’m sorry. About the apocalypse thing, I mean.”
“I cannot remember it clearly.” Arlen shrugs again. “I only fear it has made locating my former partner more difficult.”
“Your partner? Those prosthetics were made with his help?”
“That Einrich guy, right?” Courtney nods encouragingly.
“Einrich Gerstötten. Yes, but I have done much independent work.”
The warlock massages his temples and at last reaches for his tea. “Implanting a glass heart still requires surgery, which every physician I’ve consulted feels is too great a risk.”
“Sarah suggested we ask Eiko,” Courtney says.
“Do these physicians have the aid of magic?” He is looking Aloysius over now.
“…No, they didn’t…” Aloysius’ eyes narrow slightly as he notes Arlen’s gaze. “She mentioned that to me as well.” He adds to Courtney.
Courtney nods and takes a muffin, nibbling uncertainly. “You’re perfectly healthy otherwise.”
“I am not a doctor sir, but I am willing to try with all the magic at my disposal.” Arlen doesn’t do anything unless he is willing to do it with everything he’s got.
“More or less…” Aloysius sighs. His arthritis is slowly advancing, and his failing heart is giving rise to problems with blood pressure, but he does not have any other truly serious complications, just enough to make conventional surgeons think twice.
“I know you could trust Eiko to help. One of us should write to her. Maybe between science and magic is exactly the cure you need.”
“I do not know this doctor, but it is someone from the Nexus?”
Aloysius gives a nod, sunk in worry.
“Yes. She’s a genius. And I’m not just saying that because she was my math tutor for a while.”
“Does she do magic?” Arlen looks curious.
“No, but she’s the one that designed the PINpoint.”
“Ah. They are very useful. Not the kind of machinery I know, so she would bring more diverse skill to the project.” He nods.
Aloysius continues to look somewhat less than optimistic. “My funds are not unlimited; what sort of resources will this require?”
Courtney’s not sure what to say here, so she reaches down to pet Fisher silently.
Full of milk and not bothered about the conversation, Fisher burps quietly and lies down across her feet.
“Miss Branigan told me of a Nexus laboratory. I think I may find some of what I need there to make a glassworks.” He frowns thoughtfully. “But an assistant might be in order for some of it. Someone with skilled hands.”
“Can you look into that, and draw up a list of whatever else you need?” He sounds tired already.
“Thorn’s a very good sculptor,” Courtney points out. “I don’t know if he knows anything about glass, but he’s a quick learner.”
“He is someone you trust in this? I can have a list tomorrow.”
“Yes.” Aloysius sighs, glancing gratefully at Courtney.
“Oh, Very much.” Courtney smiles and squeezes Aloysius’ hand.
“I would like to meet him.” Arlen puts down his tea, “What else would you like from me?”
“…What do you expect from us?” Aloysius squeezes back gently. For all his intimidating looks, he approves of Thorn and his awkward relationship with Courtney. They’re both odd enough to suit each other, and the young man seems too cautious to try anything Aloysius might have to kill him for.
Courtney is pleased by her uncle’s approval, although she suspects it is in part due to Thorn’s timidity in regards to physical contact. “I’m studying,” She says, “but I can help here and there if you need it.”
“I am without a place to stay, or at least one I can trust my belongings in. Apart from the material cost of the work, I require little. And… you have so much.” He gestures to the fruit and muffins and tea. “A place to sleep, meals, and perhaps a small fee to replenish some of my supplies? Plaster and a few minerals. I like to be prepared if my hands should get damaged.”
“That’s… more than reasonable.” Aloysius sighs. “I want to be very informed on every aspect of this work.”
Courtney looks immensely relieved. “So I should go set up the guest room?”
Arlen looks awkward. “Some of my adaptations make me very heavy. I must be careful of furniture.”
“When you say ‘adaptations’…?” Aloysius looks wary.
“You’re not gonna sprout tentacles on us, right?” Courtney teases.
Arlen looks alarmed. “Is that an LOL? It sounds uncomfortable.” To Aloysius he says flatly, “I… am willing to reveal them in full, but they have little to do with the making of your heart. Sir.”
“…Perhaps we could have a further discussion in my study.” Aloysius is not about to drop his query.
Courtney sighs, knowing this means she’s about to get shut out of the discussion. “Anyway, the guest bed is oak. I can do some reinforcement spells if it’ll make you feel better.”
“I think that it would.” Arlen nods and tries to smile at Courtney. “As you wish sir.”
Aloysius stands with his tea.
“All right. I get that I don’t get to come to the study. I’ll go prep the guest room. You wanna come with, Fisher?” She leans down to poke the sleepy cat.
“Mmrrrgh. Crickets? Unh.” Fisher yawns and stretches.
Arlen will follow Aloysius to the study, and bring his case and teapot.
Aloysius leads the way up at his own pace, and gives Courtney a mildly worried expression before retreating behind closed study doors with their guest.
Courtney smiles reassuringly and musses the cat’s fur. Once they’re gone, she wanders upstairs to set up the room for Arlen. She even makes a nest of potholders for the teapot.
Aloysius finds himself glad to stay in today, after his excursion to the Nexus the day before. Up in his study, he keeps an eye on the wards as he buries himself in last-minute research on alchemy.
Arlen will come to the edge of the wards with his briefcase and his teapot. He takes everything he owns with him everywhere.
Courtney feels the tug on the wards and hurries to open the door. “Hey. C’mon in.”
He looks at an anchor point and then steps through warily. “Good afternoon Miss Crumrin.” Arlen comes up the porch to meet her and hopes it’s sturdy.
It’s sturdier than it looks. Ned peers out the door behind her, blinking wide yellow eyes. Courtney gestures Arlen in. “C’mon to the kitchen. The tea’s ready.”
Aloysius is slow to descend, sensing the visitor’s entrance and listening for his voice below.
Arlen nods politely at Ned. His voice is a little on the quiet side and very flat and calm. “Thank you. I seem to be having a very social week.”
“Yeah, I heard you were having tea with a friend of mine.”
Ned grins toothily. “Muh!”
“Miss Branigan?” He blinks at her and then studies the kitchen chairs. “She was very kind to have me visit.”
The chairs are fairly sturdy, made of wood. Old world craftsmanship. “Yeah,” She nods. “We’ve known each other a few years.”
Ned scrambles up onto a chair as if to show Arlen how it’s done.
“I do not know many people but we have spoken many times.” He sits very carefully in another chair and listens to it creak under him.
Aloysius comes to the doorway nicely dressed, with shoes. If Arlen is hired, he will certainly see the warlock at his worst, but for a first impression he’d like to command respect.
Courtney gets out the muffins and fruit. “Let the guest have first pick, Ned.” Then she serves tea. “Hey, Uncle A. You look nice.”
“You both have such good food.” Arlen is impressed by muffins! He gets up to greet Aloysius and gives a little bow. “Good afternoon, sir.”
Aloysius nods, entering the kitchen with a hint of stiffness after yesterday’s jaunt. “Good afternoon Mr. Arkenstone. Or is there a title?” Being so particular about his own, he’ll grant others that right, too.
Courtney shrugs. “I baked ‘em. Fair warning. Mr. Arkenstone, this is my uncle, Aloysius Crumrin. Oh. Professor Crumrin.” She forgets the title because he’s just Uncle A. to her.
“No sir, Just Mr. Or Arlen.” He doesn’t care much about formality for himself.
Giving a nod, Aloysius settles himself in a chair and regards the muffins with a wary eye.
“They’re butterscotch-chip,” She says, and nudges the plate toward Arlen first. She puts a saucer of milk on the floor for Fisher.
Fisher rubs against her as she puts it down, tail waving, and whispers, “He smells like metal.”
“Thank you.” Arlen sits again and takes off his gloves. “Please do not be distressed over my adaptations Professor, they are more drastic than what I have in mind for you.”
Aloysius is too polite to stare at the prosthetic hands, but he does look disconcerted. “And what do you have in mind?”
Courtney strokes Fisher and nods her understanding. She likes getting his first impressions.
When she sits up again, she can’t help but stare at his hands a little, her expression revealing that she hadn’t seen them before. She says nothing, though, sipping her tea.
Ned sniffs curiously, from a polite distance.
“My hands were lost in an accident. I would have preferred the originals. My heart is also inorganic. Glass and magic, and other things… I would make yours lighter, more… refined than mine is.” He takes a muffin delicately with bone fingers.
“…I see. How many hearts have you made?” Aloysius can’t help but be wary of all this.
“Isn’t glass awfully fragile?”
“As much as flesh. It does not corrode. My heart has worked for decades without mishap. I helped to make my own, and I have made experiments since. I lack the facilities now.”
“Experiments?” One bushy eyebrow rises, and Aloysius folds his arms over his chest in a subconsciously protective gesture.
“How does it beat?” Courtney looks curious.
“There is extensive magic involved, and a form of perpetual motion device. You… may have an extensive look at my own prosthetics, of course. But perhaps not at the table.” He looks very uneasy about this.
“…It’s… visible?” Aloysius is wearing his most severe frown.
~Keep an open mind, Uncle A. It sounds interesting as a learning experience, at least.~
“Finish your tea first, and relax,” Courtney says aloud, trying to smooth things over. “We’ll talk about it.”
“Mine is externally visible. I would not intend yours to be.” Arlen sips his tea. “This is a matter of trust for me as well sir. I have been taken advantage of, in the past.”
Unsure how to respond to Arlen, Aloysius continues to frown. ~The more I hear of this, the less I like it. Glass and clockworks…~
~What do you think artificial hearts are made of in this world? Probably the same stuff. Maybe metal, I dunno. We can’t get you a flesh one without a donor, you know.~ She sends gently. “We’re not going to hurt you,” She tells Arlen apologetically.
“No… Other students of magic have less inclination to.” Arlen nods.
~Plastic, mostly.~ Aloysius is quite well-informed on this subject, although he does not trust the electronic workings of a modern heart, either. “We have no interest in exploitation, but I’d like to know your background.”
~Well? Is that any better?~ Courtney pets Ned and gives him half a muffin.
“My original leaning was strongly to magic, but I worked through my hands. Unless you are asking of my schooling?”
~no, but it’s not an option, either.~ Aloud Aloysius says, “Do they have magic schools, in your world?”
Courtney raises an eyebrow at her uncle, feeling he’s missed her point, but at least he hasn’t sent Arlen away.
“No. Magic was not publicly acknowledged, when I was young, and now…” Arlen shrugs. “Now my world is in disarray and our gods walk as men. People are wary of magic, but it is less strange when everything is strange. Is your professorship in magic?” He is interested now.
“It is. I used to teach at the Coven school. What happened to your world?”
“What do you mean your gods walk as men?” Courtney asks, almost interrupting her uncle.
“And one woman. Except Death, but even he has a physical address. They walk, look like people. Eat. Sleep. I think…” He doesn’t sound impressed with them. “There was a cataclysmic… something, that fractured the world. Destroyed buildings, damaged all our memories. Many of the people are gone.”
Aloysius gives her a mildly reproving frown, but as his question has been answered, he sees no point to scolding her.
Courtney gives Aloysius an apologetic look, then stares at Arlen in shock. “That’s awful… I’m sorry. About the apocalypse thing, I mean.”
“I cannot remember it clearly.” Arlen shrugs again. “I only fear it has made locating my former partner more difficult.”
“Your partner? Those prosthetics were made with his help?”
“That Einrich guy, right?” Courtney nods encouragingly.
“Einrich Gerstötten. Yes, but I have done much independent work.”
The warlock massages his temples and at last reaches for his tea. “Implanting a glass heart still requires surgery, which every physician I’ve consulted feels is too great a risk.”
“Sarah suggested we ask Eiko,” Courtney says.
“Do these physicians have the aid of magic?” He is looking Aloysius over now.
“…No, they didn’t…” Aloysius’ eyes narrow slightly as he notes Arlen’s gaze. “She mentioned that to me as well.” He adds to Courtney.
Courtney nods and takes a muffin, nibbling uncertainly. “You’re perfectly healthy otherwise.”
“I am not a doctor sir, but I am willing to try with all the magic at my disposal.” Arlen doesn’t do anything unless he is willing to do it with everything he’s got.
“More or less…” Aloysius sighs. His arthritis is slowly advancing, and his failing heart is giving rise to problems with blood pressure, but he does not have any other truly serious complications, just enough to make conventional surgeons think twice.
“I know you could trust Eiko to help. One of us should write to her. Maybe between science and magic is exactly the cure you need.”
“I do not know this doctor, but it is someone from the Nexus?”
Aloysius gives a nod, sunk in worry.
“Yes. She’s a genius. And I’m not just saying that because she was my math tutor for a while.”
“Does she do magic?” Arlen looks curious.
“No, but she’s the one that designed the PINpoint.”
“Ah. They are very useful. Not the kind of machinery I know, so she would bring more diverse skill to the project.” He nods.
Aloysius continues to look somewhat less than optimistic. “My funds are not unlimited; what sort of resources will this require?”
Courtney’s not sure what to say here, so she reaches down to pet Fisher silently.
Full of milk and not bothered about the conversation, Fisher burps quietly and lies down across her feet.
“Miss Branigan told me of a Nexus laboratory. I think I may find some of what I need there to make a glassworks.” He frowns thoughtfully. “But an assistant might be in order for some of it. Someone with skilled hands.”
“Can you look into that, and draw up a list of whatever else you need?” He sounds tired already.
“Thorn’s a very good sculptor,” Courtney points out. “I don’t know if he knows anything about glass, but he’s a quick learner.”
“He is someone you trust in this? I can have a list tomorrow.”
“Yes.” Aloysius sighs, glancing gratefully at Courtney.
“Oh, Very much.” Courtney smiles and squeezes Aloysius’ hand.
“I would like to meet him.” Arlen puts down his tea, “What else would you like from me?”
“…What do you expect from us?” Aloysius squeezes back gently. For all his intimidating looks, he approves of Thorn and his awkward relationship with Courtney. They’re both odd enough to suit each other, and the young man seems too cautious to try anything Aloysius might have to kill him for.
Courtney is pleased by her uncle’s approval, although she suspects it is in part due to Thorn’s timidity in regards to physical contact. “I’m studying,” She says, “but I can help here and there if you need it.”
“I am without a place to stay, or at least one I can trust my belongings in. Apart from the material cost of the work, I require little. And… you have so much.” He gestures to the fruit and muffins and tea. “A place to sleep, meals, and perhaps a small fee to replenish some of my supplies? Plaster and a few minerals. I like to be prepared if my hands should get damaged.”
“That’s… more than reasonable.” Aloysius sighs. “I want to be very informed on every aspect of this work.”
Courtney looks immensely relieved. “So I should go set up the guest room?”
Arlen looks awkward. “Some of my adaptations make me very heavy. I must be careful of furniture.”
“When you say ‘adaptations’…?” Aloysius looks wary.
“You’re not gonna sprout tentacles on us, right?” Courtney teases.
Arlen looks alarmed. “Is that an LOL? It sounds uncomfortable.” To Aloysius he says flatly, “I… am willing to reveal them in full, but they have little to do with the making of your heart. Sir.”
“…Perhaps we could have a further discussion in my study.” Aloysius is not about to drop his query.
Courtney sighs, knowing this means she’s about to get shut out of the discussion. “Anyway, the guest bed is oak. I can do some reinforcement spells if it’ll make you feel better.”
“I think that it would.” Arlen nods and tries to smile at Courtney. “As you wish sir.”
Aloysius stands with his tea.
“All right. I get that I don’t get to come to the study. I’ll go prep the guest room. You wanna come with, Fisher?” She leans down to poke the sleepy cat.
“Mmrrrgh. Crickets? Unh.” Fisher yawns and stretches.
Arlen will follow Aloysius to the study, and bring his case and teapot.
Aloysius leads the way up at his own pace, and gives Courtney a mildly worried expression before retreating behind closed study doors with their guest.
Courtney smiles reassuringly and musses the cat’s fur. Once they’re gone, she wanders upstairs to set up the room for Arlen. She even makes a nest of potholders for the teapot.