Forging Ahead [Semi-Open]

[Gegenji]

"I-I'd rather ya didn't," little Chachanji murmured, rubbing at the back of his neck as Yheli examined the blade with a careful eye. "I was jus' warnin' ya ta be careful wit it 'n stuff, y'know? It really could cut through a board if'n ya let it."

 

He blinks as she starts listing off the precautions and even leans forward a little in open curiosity as the Miqo'te starts sketching out a board along with materials and dimensions. His expression twists into one of thought as he looks it all over, and his brow furrows only more when she hands the papers to him.

 

"U-um... did ya want me ta make this?" he queries, holding the papers up to emphasize his point. "I mean... I could prolly make th' gloves, it'd only be fair 'n its somethin' 'm sure I could do... but I dunno 'bout glasswork 'n tha' sorta stuff. Ya'd need ta find someone else ta make th' board. A goldsmith mebbe?"

[SapphireSkylines]

Zhara sighed in relief as the smithy started calming down a bit. She'd take the sacks of gil that were placed down by John and Yheli and would head to the back of the smithy, unlocking a safe where Chachan kept his earnings and putting the bags of gil inside before taking out a decent amount and closing it back up. She then came out to the front and would sit down on one of the cushions near the kotasu as she watched Chachan continue to help Yheli. She stayed quiet for the most part as she looked over some of their bills she found in the moogle mail earlier, and paid them accordingly, putting gil in the proper envelopes before sealing them and putting them in a small pile next to her.

 

She then headed to the back for a second time. And like a sneaky bitch, she opened her own gil purse up and deposited a large sum of her -own- earnings into the safe. Zhara was very quiet about her regular donations, but if she told Chachan what she did - she knew he would give her the gil right back. Chachan always wanted Zhara to spend her extra money on herself, but little did he know that all she wanted was for his smithy to be successful and for him to be happy. Could she live a lavish lifestyle with her pop idol status? Of course, but he was her sun, and her sun shined brighter than any jewel she could possibly afford.

[Leggerless]

"Hrm... from you, Chachanji, I would require just the knife this evening. No more, no less. It's a fine gift you let me purchase."

 

She smiles at the Lalafell, satisfied his interest piqued enough to even take the papers for himself to examine. She crosses her arms, scanning him over as he keeps looking through the blueprints of the hastily, yet accurately, drawn out plans she drafted for him. As he spoke about making them, she responded.

 

"Oh, a goldsmith for that, hm? Memory serves right, there's the Goldsmith Guild in Ul'dah and plenty of independent goldsmiths about that city, aye? I'll consult them for the other items. Also heard rumors about carbon fiber being Garlean in nature, so... perhaps a visit to one from the Ironworks as well."

 

Yheli stole a glance over towards the kotatsu where Zhara sat, gave a slight smirk at the woman, and then looked back at the Lalafell, kneeling down to get to eye level with him. Her head turns towards Chachanji and she speaks in a hushed voice, before Zhara started towards the back the second time.

 

"Between you and me? You're lucky you have a worker who can manage bills and payments besides yourself. Own a cafe myself; I know from experience it isn't easy keeping track of it all--especially in larger quantities."

[Caspar]

Virara peered at the woman's plans as if invited, which she most certainly was not. A carbon fiber-reinforced glass cutting board? Something about the idea seemed to make sense. Still it was excessive. She'd heard of swordsmen who deliberately dulled their blades slightly, such that they would not cut overly deeply into their foe and be impossible to extract. Though a cut of meat was nothing so extreme, it would be unfortunate if the knife was so excessively sharp as to be hard to store without excessive wear. To say nothing of a knife so sharp it could cleave cutting boards. What meat, or even what bone, was hard enough to necessitate a blade of that caliber? Did the woman plan on cutting adamantoise shell and serving broth in it? The possibilities were endless. Delicious too. Virara narrowed her eye at the woman, imagining the bizarre culinary experiments broiling within her head, but the girl's excessively dour resting face gave it all the atmosphere of a death glare. It was the kind of look Leanne surely would scold her for. Unfortunately, the Hat Lady wasn't there. Had Virara seen her reflection, she almost certainly would have averted her eye to avoid causing discomfort.

 

"A knife this sharp. What use would you have for it? A bone could be cut with one only half as effective." 

 

Virara shook her head at Chachanji in quiet disapproval. Dark hair bobbed about her shoulders. Her red eye narrowed and grew dull as she lowered her chin, expression downcast.

 

"... If it were a sword for self-defense against beasts. Would that be unacceptable?"

 

Eorzea was positively choking with dangerous fauna. That was, after all, no small part of the reason why Virara was even there. The other parts were likely the reputation of the pugilists near the Platinum Mirage in U'ldah and her Master's need for amusement. In a place like this, one raised with a connection to her arts could survive reasonably well enough even without weapons. The same could not likely be said for the common folk.

 

In any case Virara wasn't one who well understood the need for cooking tools to begin with. Her earliest lessons involved nothing more than an iron cook pot, a bag of rice and her bare hands. She cooked stew and boiled rice over an open fire, the ingredients pulled apart or mashed; a messy, crude display, but one only for herself and the shady woman in the corner of a one room longhouse. While it was true she availed herself of kitchens whenever necessary since coming to Eorzea, the last time Virara regularly cooked, she had needed to commission a full set of replacements from the company craftswoman. It was only due to the lady's skill that they remained usable after Virara's tender care. Virara often wondered what had happened to Aunt Jajara after she'd left that place. Likely, she had already forgotten her. For the best, Virara imagined.

 

"... Chagenji. Does she seem suspicious, unsafe to sell to? She is not... is she?" Virara turned her gaze to Yheli with a cold look. There was an air of protective wariness in how she regarded the woman. Like she didn't want the boy's naivete abused. But in truth, Virara was probably just hungry.

[Gegenji]

"Ah, yeah, they're 'round 'ere. I can give ya a couple good ones if'n ya'd like - ya get to know th' smiths outside yer field'a expertise pretty quicklike, y'know?" the little Lalafell added, scratching at his cheek. He blinked when Yheli referred to Zhara as a 'worker', though, the confusion apparent on his face. "Oh, um... she ain't really a 'worker'? She's... ah... k-kinda me girlfriend 'n likes ta help out 'round 'ere."

 

It was a bit of an awkward subject, so Chachanji was more than happy to change the subject - which Virara seemed more than willing to provide with her question. It wasn't that he was embarrassed or ashamed of his relationship with Zhara. It was just he was well-aware of the stigma against interracial relationships, plus a lurking concern about how his folks would react to her at the Starlight dinner in a few suns.

 

"Well, protectin' 'gainst beasts... y-yeah, I 'spose tha'd be akay," he murmured thoughtfully, rubbing at his chin. "Still, I'd kinda wanna know what me weapon is gonna be used fer - 'n lotsa folks like usin' 'em on other folks. Which I dun like. So it's a... matter'a character, I 'spose? I'd hafta feel like I really get 'n trust th' person ta make a weapon fer 'em."

 

He rubbed at the back of his neck.

 

"Papa was kinda th' same, y'know. Sure, 'e'd make generic weapons 'n stuff fer people - includin' th' Garleans... but if'n ya wanted 'is good stuff ya had ta get 'im ta like ya. Or do some sorta grand errand fer 'im, dependin' on 'is mood," he continued, as if that exonerated his decision. "I 'spose if'n I get better at... y-y'know tampin' down th' edge on me weapons 'n stuff, I could start doin' tha' too... I dunno, though."

 

The Doman's gaze followed his fellow Lalafell's to the Miqo'te as Virara questioned her integrity. Despite his overall good nature, he did take a moment to sort of look her over - gauge her somewhat. After all, he was putting a rather dangerous tool into her care.

 

"W-well, she seems fine ta me, I think?" he responded in the end, scratching at his cheek idly as he mused on the matter openly. "I mean... she seems ta be puttin' a lotta thought in how ta use it in th' proper way - gettin' a good mitt ta avoid personal injury 'n a stronger cuttin' board so she dun cut inta anythin' she shouldn't in th' kitchen. 'sides, she seems ta want ta get a sword made - wouldn't tha' be a better choice ta use as a weapon than a kitchen knife?"

 

He folded his arms over his surprisingly burly little chest - a rather un-Lalafellin bit of his physique - as he continued. His attention was affixed entirely on Yheli now. A surprisingly intense, yet still kind of kicked-puppy-dog-ish stare locked onto her.

 

"'s-sides, ya wouldn't do somethin' like tha' wit tha', knowin' what ya do, right?"

[Leggerless]

"Hrm... aye, go ahead and send me that way with some. Harder part is the Ironworks contact like I said earlier." She hesitates for a moment, turning her head down towards the ground and chuckling to herself. Her head turns up towards Chachanji once more, pushing up her glasses to keep them from sliping. "Girlfriend? You're luckier still!"

 

A raised eyebrow, a turned head towards Virara, and a cold stare of her own matches the one she received. "Suspicious..." She stands up and pushes herself up to attention, following up with a heavy sigh and her hands resting on her hips. Clearly displeased with the young Lalafellin female, she was; so much so she tried to not react with distasteful words uttered about her person in her presence, as if it were marring her reputation and honor. Before she spoke however, she took a deep breath, exhaled, and regained her composure so to speak more calmly.

 

"As much as I dislike that judgment I'm dishonest, you're not at fault being apprehensive." Her Limsan accent--though with words spoken properly--became more apparent the longer she talked, but her tone took a serious turn. "Spend most your years in Vylbrand and you'll find some people are even worse than beasts. Gotten slightly better now, aye, but at what many may consider the loss of certain liberties."

 

Pausing, she raised up a pointed finger for the briefest of moments; a renewed expression full of passion and enthusiasm covered her face and flavored her words.

 

"But to your question! 'What use would you have for it?'" Her hands start gesturing, moving along slightly as she spoke, but kept the hands within two fulms of her person. She occasionally held them out towards Virara, starting with open palms and moving through multiple gestures as she spoke.

 

"I conduct experiments and tinker with items of all kinds. If I don't have the best tools I can find, then I risk poor results. A culinarian does not simply make food to survive; they push the boundaries of what is possible and pleasing to the tongue. They refine what cannot be refined further, they breath life into their guests, they share their findings with the world at large. Ever expanding their horizons, like a scientist, traveler, or engineer, and looking forward to new adventures and prospects--"

 

She stops, blinks, and facepalms within the span of three seconds. "...Ahem. Almost went on a tangent as if I'm saying a speech. I like sharper knives because they cut everything more easily."

 

A glance is given down at Chachanji and a moment of hesistation in Yheli's words appear once she saw the look the little smith gave her.

 

"No. I wouldn't. Not on those who still have a bit of sentience. Besides I fancy a sword rather than a kitchen knife for those fighting competitions, bar fights, and duels. Even give the opponent a sword too to make it a fair fight. I'm not like the Twelve who tend to leave people to their own fate instead of granting them a fighting chance in this dangerous world. Help if I can, don't help if I cannot."

 

She crosses her arms after giving her spiel, glancing back and forth and Virara and Chachanji both to see how they'll react.

[SapphireSkylines]

Zhara would gather the envelopes she had sealed earlier and would sneak out of the smithy to the letterbox. She stared at the mailbox in thought as she slowly put each envelope in, one by one. When it was just the two of them, Zhara and Chachan both seemed comfortable and happy with each other, but when another person would ask about or bring up their relationship, Chachan almost seemed too embarrassed to talk about it in Zhara's point of view which made her upset. She tried her best to conceal her emotions, even though they would unfortunately leak out and cause small arguments with Chachan. She'd sometimes feel unloved and unwanted, even if that was never the case at all. Zhara's ears would instantly perk up in shock as she heard someone calling her name. 

 

"Zhara!" 

 

 

Zhara would turn the tail of the letterbox upward to notify the moogles that there was mail that needed to be delivered before closing the box and turning around to see who was calling her. 

 

Behind her a short distance away was a familiar face - one of her music colleagues, Rorigo Lorigo. He was in an up and coming band called Wolfblood and was the tiniest in his group considering he played alongside an elezen, a hyur, and a roegadyn. The lalafell wore dark clothes, had shoulder length jet black hair and dark green eyes

 

"... Rorigo? What are you doing in the industrial district?" Rorigo chuckled and scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. "Um... I honestly got lost. Nikolas told me t' meet 'im in the Goldsmith's Guild... that fucker loves his jewelry... n' yeah... I got stuck down these hall ways, why're you here?" 

 

"I live here." Zhara smiled. "Did you want to check it out? It's a nice place." Rorigo shrugged. "Sure... might as well." Zhara would lead the man into the smithy. "Hey guys.. sorry I'm back." she'd gesture to a few people. "So Rorigo, this is Chachan my boyfriend, and Chachan this is Rorigo, he's a colleague of mine, plays guitar in a band.." she'd then point to Yheli and Virara. "And this is Yheli and Virara." Rorigo smiled and looked around as he made sure to stay out of people's way. "Good t' meet ya." Zhara would sit back down at the kotasu and point to the cookie plate. "Cookies are right here for everyone to pick at." Rorigo nodded as he sat down on one of the ends at the kotasu as he casually observed.

[Caspar]

Virara's head dipped away from the talkative culinarian's weaving hands as she found herself submerged in a deluge of conversation. She'd always just beaten the meat or tore it with her fingers if she needed to. The talk of experimentation and valuable tools rung Virara about her ferrous skull, so much so that she simply winced and just nodded compliantly, only the most rudimentary traces of suspicion left behind. Her aching stomach distracted her, and she considered the plate of cookies left behind by Zhara. No doubt the sweetness would just make her lips pucker. If only she had a shaker of ground pepper handy...

 

"N-no, I don't mean to suggest that, Cleaver Lady. This is difficult... I thought we were talking about food, not magiteck..."

 

Virara squeezed her eye shut and shook her head, pigtails flitting about. Her stomach complained quietly under the short table.

 

"Chagenji is soft. He is soft, so you mustn't use his work carelessly. His will is important. You are going to only cut meat. It should be fine..."

 

Her statement had the air of an earnest request, but also was silently demanding in the only way she knew. Virara, too, had a masterwork piece Chachanji entrusted to her. That time before in the Coerthas snows, when she was waylaid by bandits, she'd fought with her bare hands, despite the risk to her bones. His fine, stone-like hora, robust enough to withstand eons of training, lay unused, half-sunken in the white ground, as she'd already expended her supply of cheap iron knuckles. She never used his gift when she was being "bad."

 

Before she can further question the smith's customer, however, Zhara emerged once more with an unfamiliar face. She could not help but tense up. Another musician. Virara could scarcely understand it. Her grasp of melody was pathetic; even a dhalmel could likely sing better than Virara. She averted her eye to avoid another unintentional glare, thus appearing to suddenly find the wood knots in the table profoundly fascinating.