(( Thanks to FinMack for the play. All posts in this thread done opposite that player.))
Usually, the dark man was occupied, but Penny was older, now. Ame was older, too, less fragile but still a child. So long as his diaper was changed and he was fed before Tag left, it afforded a window of one to two hours to step away for groceries or something else.
Armed with a cellphone, Penny could now dial him if there was trouble, though she seemed largely annoyed at the prospect of doing so. Tag checked and he double checked before leaving. This hindered her sense of being independent and otherwise trusted, but she was patient enough for a girl of twelve. All too early she had understood that her dad was a little different from the other fathers. That he took some explaining but more importantly she had come to realize that he didn't disappoint her.
Tag always found a way. Penny believed that. She could handle watching an infant for a small amount of hours to earn more allowance.
That was how Tag had secured the daytime business hours to step away from his property and to the forge that Fin worked. With his comfortably fitting old leather jacket and a scarce wind at his back, he paused at the yawning entrance. Should he had sent a text first?
Fin kept both bay doors open during business hours, to help air flow and to encourage people to walk in. He normally faced the front of the forge while working though his attention was frequently cast down at the metal in his hands. In this moment, he'd just set a piece wrought iron into the wooden bucket of water he kept nearby, a hiss of steam rising. It was quickly whisked away by the large industrial fan kept over near the sink, to keep the smith from getting too overheated. Covered in a sheen of sweat, damps ends of his hair brushed his brow and ears, frequently swept back with his arm.
He felt like he was sweating a lot more, lately, and then there was the curious incident of steam rising from his flesh yesterday during the afternoon. Strange, anomalous quirks that had him a little jumpy. Hyper aware.
It was nearly lunch time, good as any to stop for food. Still unaware of the figure lurking in the bay door, Fin wiped his hands on the leather apron decorating his front and then turned to the sink. Used to the flavor of metal in his food, he didn't need to celebrate it.
http://i466.photobucket.com/albums/rr28/CorrenLaine/FinsShopLayout.jpg
Layout of Fin's shop, compliments of FinMack
Tag had been to a forge before, but not one of this commercial-sized magnitude. The issue with swords was that few could afford them and they required great artistry. That was for the larger forges. The smaller ones pounded out nails and horse shoes and other common objects on occasion. Fin's set up was something else entirely, a scene he had never witnessed before.
With Fin's preoccupied appearance, his knuckles rained on the wood of the door in an idle pattern that called for his attention. It said that he was here. That there was a person fleshed in the doorway before his stride worked towards Fin in a careful, deliberate way. This was his workplace, after all. Assuming it was safe to travel would have been folly.
Just finished drying his hands, Fin glanced up to see someone stepping inside hesitantly. The smiled picked up instantly - ready to greet a customer - but it deepened, warmed to see a friend. "Good afternoon, Tag. Please, come in," waving the man forward until they were close enough to shake hands. The smile was replaced in a blink with a concerned frown. "Is everythin' alrigh'? Madi an' the bairns?"
"Bairns..." The word was unfamiliar at first, but only a second. There was a shake of his head no and he smiled, quickly, "Penny is watching Ame and I will meet Madison at the bar... and she will head home afterward." The closing duties of tidying up didn't require her. Besides, it allowed her time with Penny and Ame that might otherwise turn into her arriving after their bedtimes to peer over them, the wind whispering of secret adventures, as she wondered who they were becoming. This way, she could be part of it more.
"I was... curious. Of your work." A look to the mouth of the dragon and then back to Fin. The heat radiated like a half-hearted warning. It was lazy enough that Tag could smile partly towards the threat of fire. No doubt with proper stoking Fin could rouse it into crackling and sparkles.
The concern eased once his fears of an emergency situation were laid to rest. Shoulders eased from his neck though a touch of tightness at the corners of his mouth implied he heard that Madi was heading home from the bar by herself. Tag was going to stay? Was that a new arrangement because they were having issues or were they merely being pragmatic? He wanted to ask but felt it would be an imposition to Tag. The two men were friends but Tag wasn't the type to talk about himself or invite prying into his personal affairs. Like all of Fin's other male friends. No wonder they got along.
"Aye? Are ye curious abou' anythin' in particular? Did ye need anythin' made for ye, for the bar or at yer home?" He plied Tag with questions while turning toward the great fire that fed his creativity, paid his bills. "Did ye ever receive a tour?"
Madison and Tag had an obstacle, but they were tackling that hurdle together. She had a nagging sense of wonder. About herself. About what would happen next. He had swore to her he would be there for it and if there was anyone he kept his promises to, it was her. They slept in the same bed, they had sex that was both fire and forgiving. Gentle bruises from the kissing stayed along their necks with the whispers of fingernail claw marks tracing over chests and backs. Wild lions taming each other just enough.
In short, the household was full of solidarity and love. Tag could not have known of Fin's concerns, or how genuinely he might have cared. Even if it had been said, words did not affect him so profoundly. Tag was the sort that needed to see it, to feel it, to know it was more than a con artist's promise.
"Not... a personal tour." He had seen the forge before when it first opened, but now that it was just the two of them it felt larger and less familiar. There was a short motion of his hand, "Show me."
Madi and Tag had become Fin's family unit to which he'd attached himself. Desperate for a sense of belonging, he cared very much about their shared future together, for their sake and for his own. It went hand in hand.
A crooked smile quirked one corner of his mouth higher than the other, nodding as he spread one arm to indicate the whole of the forge. "Well, this be where I work," the glance he flashed at Tag wry. "I be workin' on a staircase railin' for a customer now, wee bit o' wrought iron here an' there. I get to be creative," which was his greatest joy in working with metal. When he could put a little bit of himself in someone else's life. "Are ye familiar wit' smithin' work?"
For more than just Fin, Tag and Madi were a north star. In some ways, it was cathartic to see that there was more than smiles and smooth sailing between them. They had their tribulations but were not lost for it. That was saying something.
"Only a little," he had scarcely done any of the work, but he had seen the forges before. The setup was familiar enough to him. One hand reached out to touch some of the cool tools that were on the table. There was a pause, looking at Fin, "Have you always... been interested in this? Do you know the Damascus blade?"
Fin set about closing the bay doors with a loud rattle that thundered over the noise of the fan. They were locked in place (he was still a wee bit paranoid about people tampering with his things when he wasn't here) and then gestured for Tag to follow him. Fin trooped back through the office that connected home and work, leading Tag into his little apartment. It was still larger than the crofter's cottage in which he'd grown up so though it was cozy by RhyDin standards, Fin felt it was like a palace.
"I learned at m'Da's knee. He was a smith in our village. Ardelve." The fridge was opened and he grabbed two beers, the only thing he had to offer in the way of refreshment without ordering something or taking a trip to the market. Tag's bottle was left on the counter for him to take as he pleased while Fin popped off the cap and took a swig. "I knew Damascus steel, o' course, but I did no' have the fortune to be able to work wit' it until Master Oliver, rest his soul. He helped me to remember everythin' I had forgotten, an' a wee bit more," smiling over the memory of the gruff older man.
"I be feelin' hungry, would ye like to take yer midday meal wit' me?" He was already pulling out a pizza delivery brochure and fiddling with his phone.
Usually, the dark man was occupied, but Penny was older, now. Ame was older, too, less fragile but still a child. So long as his diaper was changed and he was fed before Tag left, it afforded a window of one to two hours to step away for groceries or something else.
Armed with a cellphone, Penny could now dial him if there was trouble, though she seemed largely annoyed at the prospect of doing so. Tag checked and he double checked before leaving. This hindered her sense of being independent and otherwise trusted, but she was patient enough for a girl of twelve. All too early she had understood that her dad was a little different from the other fathers. That he took some explaining but more importantly she had come to realize that he didn't disappoint her.
Tag always found a way. Penny believed that. She could handle watching an infant for a small amount of hours to earn more allowance.
That was how Tag had secured the daytime business hours to step away from his property and to the forge that Fin worked. With his comfortably fitting old leather jacket and a scarce wind at his back, he paused at the yawning entrance. Should he had sent a text first?
Fin kept both bay doors open during business hours, to help air flow and to encourage people to walk in. He normally faced the front of the forge while working though his attention was frequently cast down at the metal in his hands. In this moment, he'd just set a piece wrought iron into the wooden bucket of water he kept nearby, a hiss of steam rising. It was quickly whisked away by the large industrial fan kept over near the sink, to keep the smith from getting too overheated. Covered in a sheen of sweat, damps ends of his hair brushed his brow and ears, frequently swept back with his arm.
He felt like he was sweating a lot more, lately, and then there was the curious incident of steam rising from his flesh yesterday during the afternoon. Strange, anomalous quirks that had him a little jumpy. Hyper aware.
It was nearly lunch time, good as any to stop for food. Still unaware of the figure lurking in the bay door, Fin wiped his hands on the leather apron decorating his front and then turned to the sink. Used to the flavor of metal in his food, he didn't need to celebrate it.
http://i466.photobucket.com/albums/rr28/CorrenLaine/FinsShopLayout.jpg
Layout of Fin's shop, compliments of FinMack
Tag had been to a forge before, but not one of this commercial-sized magnitude. The issue with swords was that few could afford them and they required great artistry. That was for the larger forges. The smaller ones pounded out nails and horse shoes and other common objects on occasion. Fin's set up was something else entirely, a scene he had never witnessed before.
With Fin's preoccupied appearance, his knuckles rained on the wood of the door in an idle pattern that called for his attention. It said that he was here. That there was a person fleshed in the doorway before his stride worked towards Fin in a careful, deliberate way. This was his workplace, after all. Assuming it was safe to travel would have been folly.
Just finished drying his hands, Fin glanced up to see someone stepping inside hesitantly. The smiled picked up instantly - ready to greet a customer - but it deepened, warmed to see a friend. "Good afternoon, Tag. Please, come in," waving the man forward until they were close enough to shake hands. The smile was replaced in a blink with a concerned frown. "Is everythin' alrigh'? Madi an' the bairns?"
"Bairns..." The word was unfamiliar at first, but only a second. There was a shake of his head no and he smiled, quickly, "Penny is watching Ame and I will meet Madison at the bar... and she will head home afterward." The closing duties of tidying up didn't require her. Besides, it allowed her time with Penny and Ame that might otherwise turn into her arriving after their bedtimes to peer over them, the wind whispering of secret adventures, as she wondered who they were becoming. This way, she could be part of it more.
"I was... curious. Of your work." A look to the mouth of the dragon and then back to Fin. The heat radiated like a half-hearted warning. It was lazy enough that Tag could smile partly towards the threat of fire. No doubt with proper stoking Fin could rouse it into crackling and sparkles.
The concern eased once his fears of an emergency situation were laid to rest. Shoulders eased from his neck though a touch of tightness at the corners of his mouth implied he heard that Madi was heading home from the bar by herself. Tag was going to stay? Was that a new arrangement because they were having issues or were they merely being pragmatic? He wanted to ask but felt it would be an imposition to Tag. The two men were friends but Tag wasn't the type to talk about himself or invite prying into his personal affairs. Like all of Fin's other male friends. No wonder they got along.
"Aye? Are ye curious abou' anythin' in particular? Did ye need anythin' made for ye, for the bar or at yer home?" He plied Tag with questions while turning toward the great fire that fed his creativity, paid his bills. "Did ye ever receive a tour?"
Madison and Tag had an obstacle, but they were tackling that hurdle together. She had a nagging sense of wonder. About herself. About what would happen next. He had swore to her he would be there for it and if there was anyone he kept his promises to, it was her. They slept in the same bed, they had sex that was both fire and forgiving. Gentle bruises from the kissing stayed along their necks with the whispers of fingernail claw marks tracing over chests and backs. Wild lions taming each other just enough.
In short, the household was full of solidarity and love. Tag could not have known of Fin's concerns, or how genuinely he might have cared. Even if it had been said, words did not affect him so profoundly. Tag was the sort that needed to see it, to feel it, to know it was more than a con artist's promise.
"Not... a personal tour." He had seen the forge before when it first opened, but now that it was just the two of them it felt larger and less familiar. There was a short motion of his hand, "Show me."
Madi and Tag had become Fin's family unit to which he'd attached himself. Desperate for a sense of belonging, he cared very much about their shared future together, for their sake and for his own. It went hand in hand.
A crooked smile quirked one corner of his mouth higher than the other, nodding as he spread one arm to indicate the whole of the forge. "Well, this be where I work," the glance he flashed at Tag wry. "I be workin' on a staircase railin' for a customer now, wee bit o' wrought iron here an' there. I get to be creative," which was his greatest joy in working with metal. When he could put a little bit of himself in someone else's life. "Are ye familiar wit' smithin' work?"
For more than just Fin, Tag and Madi were a north star. In some ways, it was cathartic to see that there was more than smiles and smooth sailing between them. They had their tribulations but were not lost for it. That was saying something.
"Only a little," he had scarcely done any of the work, but he had seen the forges before. The setup was familiar enough to him. One hand reached out to touch some of the cool tools that were on the table. There was a pause, looking at Fin, "Have you always... been interested in this? Do you know the Damascus blade?"
Fin set about closing the bay doors with a loud rattle that thundered over the noise of the fan. They were locked in place (he was still a wee bit paranoid about people tampering with his things when he wasn't here) and then gestured for Tag to follow him. Fin trooped back through the office that connected home and work, leading Tag into his little apartment. It was still larger than the crofter's cottage in which he'd grown up so though it was cozy by RhyDin standards, Fin felt it was like a palace.
"I learned at m'Da's knee. He was a smith in our village. Ardelve." The fridge was opened and he grabbed two beers, the only thing he had to offer in the way of refreshment without ordering something or taking a trip to the market. Tag's bottle was left on the counter for him to take as he pleased while Fin popped off the cap and took a swig. "I knew Damascus steel, o' course, but I did no' have the fortune to be able to work wit' it until Master Oliver, rest his soul. He helped me to remember everythin' I had forgotten, an' a wee bit more," smiling over the memory of the gruff older man.
"I be feelin' hungry, would ye like to take yer midday meal wit' me?" He was already pulling out a pizza delivery brochure and fiddling with his phone.