Dominic [M:123:1420:][D3v:http://rpgmenagerie.com/index.cgi?action=display&board=cs&thread=382&page=1#14144][b]Let me tell you a story...[/b][0:No encore today][1:You have my attention]
Dom reached over and patted his friend on the arm. "Secrets are almost impossible to keep. It was only a matter of time that you had to move away from here with her and it was never going to be easy. But you've got friends as well as enemies." He beamed, picking up his staff and clacking back over to the stairs, headed for bed.
He called over his shoulder "Your girl will get home safe. Bet on it." his voice full of easy confidence before he moved up to bed.
Love, like Hope, has too few letters for a word so powerful.
He would stay up for a while yet. He liked nights like this; it was he and the forge. He was about to start on another project, making some buckles for a saddle, when his hand seized up. Gasping, hissing, holding the metal digits as if they were flesh. It had to be phantom pains; heat was the only thing that didn't bother it. Nicks, cuts, bruises...everything hurt like it should. It confounded him, and he had a scary suspicion it had something to do with the source of his heart.
He grunted, bringing his hand to the workbench, and adjusting the bolts that held it together. The metal he'd used was lightweight, soft, pliant. It had to be, or it would have torn out of his shoulder. It was thin, only a few overlapping metal plates making up his forearm. It was a prosthetic, not a weapon. He doubted it would have been more useful than his real arm holding a weapon, slow and delayed as it was.
As he loosened his fingers, allowing them to move again, albeit a little painfully. A small sigh escaped his lips. Not being able to feel his daughter, or even Anri with it was more painful than losing it in the first place.
A good scientist is a person with original ideas. A good engineer is a person who makes a design that works with as few original ideas as possible.
Morning came, and Chaz reluctantly woke up. He had a bed on the second floor, a simple thing, his "room" sparsely furnished. His life as it was was his daughter and the forge, and it showed. He got up, got dressed, still a little bleary-eyed from his late night. Yawning, stretching much like a cat, he stopped at the staircase that led up to Nikole's top-floor room.
Kitten? Time to get up. There was a long pause before she answered.
I don't want to.
We're going to go on and adventure today. Another pause.
An adventure?
Yep, we're going to go get some things to make your guitar.
Guh. Fine. He smiled, stepping down the staircase to the bottom floor. He knew vaguely what he was going to get; no need to wake Dominic and force him to come.
A good scientist is a person with original ideas. A good engineer is a person who makes a design that works with as few original ideas as possible.
He set about making breakfast. He had a few things set up to help with that; a box that kept ice cold for longer than it should, an air-heated wood stove for cooking. He wasn't the best cook, but passable. At least enough to make eggs and bacon. When you had a growing kid you had to learn certain things fast.
As he absentmindedly listened to the snapping and crackling of the bacon, he began to hear something underneath it. His ears twitched slightly; it was at the edge of his hearing. Ticking? He cocked his head, listening to his heart. No, that was normal. This was...deep. Sounding like a giant clock swaddled in thick cloth. Slow, low thumps of sound. His blood ran cold. He'd heard it before.
After his..."operation." The priest had healed him, "fixed" him, but he'd had to pull through the harsh treatment all alone. Barely out of kittenhood, his own body feverishly rejecting his new heart, despite the priest's best efforts. It had taken nearly a week until he could walk again, and all that time as he laid there, listening to the new alien sound in his chest, he heard that deeper thumping behind it, as if a massive echo. Like he were clutched to the chest of something much larger.
Searing pain in the palm of his left hand interrupted his memories, making him drop the pan he'd been holding. Heat? Heat shouldn't have--he froze as he looked at his palm. In burnt black lines was etched a gear, six spokes radiating from the center. He blinked, unbelieving. It was the symbol of the religion that had helped to heal him, but...how did it...
Daddy?
He jolted at the sound of her voice, holding his good hand to the palm of his still-warm metal one.
K-kitten! I'm sorry, I just...dropped the pan. Still working the kinks out of this th-this thing. Go sit down, I'll, uh...get this cleaned up. She cocked her head at him, eyebrow raised.
Something's wrong. He sighed, trying to calm himself and get a cloth.
You're too smart, Nikole.
Yes I am.
But I'm fine. I dropped the pan. Go sit down, love. She looked at him for a long moment, then shrugged.
If you want to talk about it... He rolled his eyes despite himself. So much like her mother. But he still wondered about the etching in his palm...the debt had been paid, hadn't it?
A good scientist is a person with original ideas. A good engineer is a person who makes a design that works with as few original ideas as possible.