Topic: Mon Poppet Matese

Matese duPres

Date: 2012-06-02 16:42 EST
He'd been watching her work for hours. She was simply a fascinating creature. Not in the sense that some may think, but he could not tear his eyes away from her. It was that he'd never seen her like before.

When one would describe a woman with alabaster skin, it was never truly alabaster. Yet not her. Her skin was literally alabaster or white marble. Which he was unsure, but the girl of unknown age sat bent over a tiny worktable and clockwork parts, was made of living stone. The gargoyle had called herself Matese duPres.

She was dressed in doll like clothes that seemed to fit the doll like curls of her white hair. The laces, ribbons, corsets, and bows all seemed to give the what should have been fearsome golem into a sweet and docile, fragile looking doll that almost broke your heart with her sad but curious eyes.

Her common tongue was horrible, broken, and often got words mixed up. But she was doing quite well considering that no one would be able to understand her if she spoke Gargoyle. He'd tried but the rumble, growls and gurgles where too much. Some words were even spoken in a tone too deep or low for human ears to even pick up. He sat back and wondered, how many gargoyles did people walk under everyday that were very much alive and spoke such away that they just could not hear"

He'd been given charge to find her a place to live and a little workshop, to see to mundane things like food and coin to get her set her life here in Rhydin. But he'd not asked much and his curiosity was killing him.

"Can you fly?"

"Oui. Very far I am not able to fly. Wings smaller than most so short distance hover and glide I can. The others fly further and faster than I." Matese did not look up from her intricate work, but unfurled her small bat like wings and gave them a light flap.

"Your skin..." "Is stone, but soft. Can be hard if scared I become. Heavy also I am. Swim I can not. I have a heart I think, The beats I can feel yet bleed much I do not. Cold or Hot I can be. It is up to the weather or fire or ice. Like reptile except sleepy or slow I do not get."

He blinked a few times. But had to remember the amount of books she'd requested. She was a voracious reader as well as eater. If it was not a tinker in hand it was a book. She didn't eat often, but then she did it was a feast sized meal. This he'd learned the hard way thinking he'd bought enough food for a week at the least and it was gone at one setting. She would not grow bigger or smaller she stated, but would be full for a while.

When he'd asked where she came from, she stated she only remembers the artisan studio of her 'Father'.

"I call him Father because he created me. Sculpture made with aching heart, his wife and daughter in a fire did parish. He would state many times I looked like them both. Commissioned for a cathedral, but his grief overtook him it did and their face was all her could see. His love," she would touch where her heart would be " and grief must have been unmeasurable and to me it did pour like magic it did."

She looked over at him for a moment, her eyes were like cut quartz, silver, shiny, perfect with small touches of purple. They would gloss over as she talked of the man she never knew the name of except "Father". Could gargoyles cry he briefly wondered" But he would go unanswered as she went back to the little thing she tinkered on.

As he approached curiously, he could make out it was a matching set of tiny opera spectacles. The first set had been done, say upon a velvet cloth that highlighted the small gears of brass and ornate carvings.

"May I?" he asked pointing to the completed ones while she nodded softly.

He picked them up more carefully than anything in his life. He wasn't sure how angry a gargoyle could get, but he didn't want to find out. They were even more mechanically intricate then he first expected, the brass holdings whirred so softly as they extended and focused on whatever he wanted to look upon as he held them by the long handle he'd seen Ladys do. He would have laughed at himself if he'd not been so impressed with the light that changed to a light green glow letting him see into the darker sections of the room.

Setting them back on the velvet cloth they glowed no more and small markings he did not see before had been lit now faded as well. "Techno Magic." he stated curiously in which Matese said nothing, still compulsively working away on the glass's mate.