aefenglom | voice;

Entry tags:

voice;

Name: hiccup haddock
Date: juril 13
Format: voice

Hey everybody, this is- uh, this is Hiccup. [That nasally voice sounds bright today, but like he's not entirely used to talking over these watches. It still feels like he's chatting to an inanimate object somehow, even though he knows other people will be able to hear this, because he hasn't used it much up to this date.] I think I'm starting to get used to being here, sort of. It's been an adjustment. And, you know, everything seems fine a lot of the time, but I'm sure we've all figured out from those dreams by now that- that this world is dangerous, too.

So, uh, I wanted to make an offer. I'm a blacksmith back home, and I finally finished setting up my forge. It's- you know, it's not fancy, but it's good enough to start working in. If anybody wants to bring scrap metal by, I'd be happy to make things out of it for you, no charge. Well, no charge unless I have to buy other materials. Weapons, armor, household objects, just about anything. I know a few things about leatherworking and general construction, too, and I can fireproof anything you'd like, but I have to charge for that because of what it involves.

And, hey, if any other smiths or crafters want to come by and borrow the space, that's great too.

My forge is right next to Keith's and my house just past the slums, barely into the woods, we call it Wilder's Edge- or, I call it Wilder's Edge, he wanted to just call it "Keith's and Hiccup's shack in the woods" but that's way too long to put on a map- [Can you hear the excessive hand gesturing in this speech?] -but anyway! If you don't want to come out this far by yourself, I can pick you up from the city, it's not a problem!

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I'm on my way, then. It's a bit of a hike, but expect me!

We'll be here!

[Sure enough, it's not too difficult to find. The forge is a low, wide stone building, with gaps between the walls and roof to let in cooler air and let out smoke and steam, and a wide folding door in front that's currently propped open. A large black dragon is curled up in the grass outside the forge, taking a nap in the sun, but his ear fins prick up when he hears an approach.]

[ It takes her about fifteen or twenty minutes to make her way out there. She's taking her time, strolling along at an even, confident gait, although she pauses when she spies the dragon and she dips into a very courteous bow. ]

Good day to you! I hadn't realized the blacksmith had a dragon friend.

[ She's going to wait until the dragon gives her some sort of sign that he (she? Iramaat isn't sure) is absolutely fine with her presence. She's not afraid of dragons, she just knows they can be a bit finicky. ]

Edited 2019-07-22 21:30 (UTC)

[It's a good approach, honestly. Hiccup, walking out of the forge and wiping his hands off on his apron, approves.

Toothless, too, evidently, from the way he sits up, holding his head regally high like royalty, and then nodding once to her, before he goes back to his nap. Sometimes he pretends to have dignity. Hiccup is trying not to laugh at it.]

Sorry, that's Toothless. Don't worry about him. He's not- you know, aggressive. He's uh, also not one of the people-dragons that live here, so don't expect him to talk back.

[ Iramaat finishes her bow and pops back up with one more nod in Toothless' direction and then finally turns to Hiccup with a grin. ]

Interesting name for a dragon, that. But I suppose he likes it and I'm not going to question that - but no, no, that's fine. I don't expect people to necessarily talk. Especially if they're dragon dragons.

[ She saunters over and offers her hand. ]

Iramaat! Pleasure to meet you in the flesh.

They're retractable. It just kind of stuck. [Toothless has never seemed to mind. Do dragons care about names? He's not sure but he doesn't think they do.

He shakes her hand, his grip firm and his palm and fingers calloused - the particular kind of callous of hard work in a forge and carrying a sword or an axe.] Pleasure's all mine. I'm Hiccup, but you, uh, knew that. So! Armor. You were wanting ringmail?

[ Her own hand has the callouses of someone who spends time wielding a sword. That's something. She gives him another appraising look and then settles her hands on her hips. ]

Yes! Or chainmail, I suppose, but either term works for me. It's what I'm used to. Not as reliable as solid plate, I imagine, but... well... probably easier to find many scraps than to forge a breastplate? You tell me.

Definitely easier considering I don't have a stock of good, solid sheets of material to work with. You, uh, you don't have a problem with iron, do you? I've heard fae don't like it... [It's a strange concern and one he's not used to bringing up, but there you have it.

He turns back to his work bench and pulls out paper, a stick of charcoal, and a long strip of material marked with notches.] Measurements first, and then we can talk about metal and how long it might take me?

Well.. it depends on the iron.

[ Iramaat frowns slightly and considers. Of course, it doesn't really have the same impact here, but there's still something of the old psychology that lingers. Then she brightens. ]

I'm sure it will be fine! [ She claps her hands together. ]

Measurements, measurements. That sounds perfect. [ She undoes her sword-belt and sets it aside, stretching herself out, as if preparing for a run. She's a bit theatrical, honestly. ]

What do you mean by depends on the iron? [He's legitimately concerned about any ill-effects iron might have. Who knows in a world like this. Magic was new to him too, arriving here.

Hiccup flicks his fingers, and the measurement tape slithers to life on its own, worming its way smoothly around each body part in turn while Hiccup writes the measurements down. It's way less personal and embarrassing this way!] I'm not sure what types of metal exist here, but I imagine I could find something suitable. Or enchant something, maybe! Conjuring? Maybe...

Well, it's... [ She waggles her hand in a wishy-washy sort of gesture. She's not really eager to get into specifics. ]

...not relevant here, I imagine, since I seem to have lost everything else that applied to me at home.

[ Which isn't great, but at the same time, hey, cold iron isn't much of a worry anymore. She lifts her arms helpfully, watching as he works. ]

I don't know enough about conjuring to say - and I'm not a witch, so I can't be much help there, unfortunately.

Oh. Did you have- powers, I guess, or magic or something, before you got here? I know a few others like that, that lost those kinds of things when they came through the mirror. [Hiccup jots down a few more things, keeping half an eye on the measuring tape.]

Talking to myself, mostly, sorry, I- oh! I need to take alchemy classes! That's exactly what I should do. Gronckle iron would be perfect, I just need to figure out how to get it. It would be a lot lighter than regular iron.

I was a creature of magic.

[ Iramaat sighs wistfully. ] Of dreams, even. Here I am... sadly mortal. And apparently a monster. Which I suppose is an exchange, but not one I'd call fair.

[ She reaches up and idly scratches at one of her antlers. ]

I can't say I've heard of gronckle iron. Is that native to this world?

Of magic? But you didn't wind up a witch. That's... hm. I guess it doesn't make much sense how the world decides who's going to be what, here. [He's wondered about that. Why he has magic, why he isn't growing scales and talons instead.] I was normal before here. We don't, uh, we don't have magic at all back home. We have a lot of dragons, though, so I've wondered, you know, why I'm a witch instead of a- a dragon or something.

[A quick shake of his head, and he hastily jots down a few more notes in the margins of the page he's working on.] Oh, no, it's from home. When you feed a gronckle - that's a type of dragon - a certain blend of minerals and stone, they spew out molten metal, gronckle iron. When you work it, it's strong but it's really light.

I doubt there's any rhyme or reason to how we end up what we are. The magic that changes us seems... chaotic. Which normally I'd be interested in, but it seems to want to turn me into something so...

[ She shrugs. It's interesting. Maybe a little difficult. She's rolling with the punches, though - at least so far. ]

Iron from a dragon... [ She laughs. ]

Who'd have thought? I'd love to see that!

Chaotic is a good word for it. It's- bizarre, to be able to feel it now, at least a little, and the traces it leaves. And to be able to do things that defy the laws of physics. [That's about everyone's lot here, just making do with what you're given. At least in a way they're all in the same boat.]

Maybe you will! If I can perfect it without a dragon here.

It was natural for me. Second nature. Like breathing.

[ She finds something to perch herself on and sits, elbows on her knees and chin in her hands. ]

And now it's all gone. [ She frowns theatrically. ] It's very irritating.

Oh- Sorry, uh, I didn't mean to... rub it in your face or anything. [It's just super weird for him still. Even though he's taking to it alright. Sssort of. He grabs the tape measure out of the air when he's gotten all the measurements he needs, fighting with it for a moment and pressing it down against the work bench.] Come on, stop, you muttonheaded- [Finally it falls limp. He's. Still working on most of his spells.]

Sorry. That must be... weird.

Not your fault. You didn't know.

[ Iramaat can be magnanimous when she wants to be, apparently. She watches him wrestle with the tape measure with a mused sort of smile on her face. ]

And it's rather strange, but I'm adapting. That's what a hero does, isn't it? Adapt, overcome, emerge triumphant after so many trials?

Oh? Uh, yeah, I guess it is. [It makes him think of heroes in viking epics, the people in the stories he was told as a boy. He supposes they would have to adapt and overcome and emerge triumphant.

Somehow, he manages to sound totally sincere when he asks,] Are you a- a hero, then? What kind of deeds did you accomplish?

[ Iramaat sits up a bit straighter, gestures getting a little larger, more empathetic, as if she's putting on a bit of show. ]

Oh, of course! I'm a knight on errantry! Traveling the world and righting wrongs, helping people where I can! Solving problems as only I can- [ She gestures to herself, fingers tapping agianst her chest as her smile widens. She does pause for a moment.

Maybe she should leave "dragon-slaying" off of the list this time. ]

I've bested cruel and corrupt villains in single combat for the sake of fair maidens; I've liberated towns from the attentions of bandits; I've rescued captive princesses from distant towers... more to the point, what haven't I done?

[Yeah maybe leave dragon-slaying off the list. Hiccup doesn't take too kindly to that. He seems enthusiastic enough about the rest of it, though. That all sounds like pretty good stuff.]

So you travel around and just- help people? That sounds pretty incredible!

Oh, yes, it's wonderful. The people I've met, the things I've done...

[ Of course, she's not as selfless as she likes to imply she is, but there you are. ]

the world is a fascinating, beautiful place and I try to do my part to make it that much more beautiful.

It sounds exciting. Seeing new places, discovering new things, that's- there's nothing like it. [Of course, he's been pretty well island-bound for the last year back home, rebuilding Berk after Drago, learning to be the chief.]

That's really admirable. That's- the world needs more of that.

Oh, it certainly does. I'm glad you see it that way.

[ Iramaat flashes him a broad grin. ]

Not everyone does. Some people think I'm just a busybody, but if not me, then who?

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voice;

transition to action or wrap it? good wit heither.

action's good!

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