revivalproject | [Closed] If The Forge Isn't Warm Enough

Between living in a furnace, and rarely going out without the Iron Man, it was easy for Tony to forget just how cold it really was outside. This cold season that he had experienced in Temba before had been a mild one, so when he did make the mistake of stepping outside without the armor, it was a shock to his system that would quickly drive him back in close to the fire to defrost and worry about where Catra was as the eaves gathered ice. She wasn't coming around like she usually did when it was cold.

The door didn't stand open anymore, closed against the chill of the wind, so when it swung wide to let in the frozen draft and a swirl of snowflakes that sprayed across the hearth like rain as they hit the wall of warmth from the forge, Tony complained, "Hey, private function, VIP only." His voice was unfamiliar, metallic, modulated through the red and gold helmet that he wore, though the rest of the suit was a neat stack under the workbench. He could see the temperature difference in the HUD, and quickly approached to pull anyone in from that torment despite his warding off.

The woman rolled her eyes at the idea that there were only VIPs welcome, and she managed to close the door herself before Tony finished approaching. The helmet, though, earned a look from her. How interesting. And how strange.

"Very odd armor you don, Tony. I am intrigued. And the forge is warm, as expected. You are quite lucky."

Tony shivered in the chill that lingered by the door and whistled through its cracks, so he quickly tried to put himself between it and Lark like he could block her from the cold. "I was born into luxury. I'm not about to give it up because of a little apocalypse," he said, waving his hands as though there was anything comfortable about the forge outside of its constant fire. In fact, it mostly looked like a death trap, what control he did have over it during the warmer season quickly lost as he and his work retreated inside out of the cold, leaving plenty to trip over and more waiting to be impaled on. "If you've come to enjoy the fire, please, first one's free. Is there no heat in the hotel?" he asked, modulated voice flattening out any revealing concern.

"Quite the gentleman, attempting to block me from the cold with your own body," she offered with a smile. "Trust me, I am quite familiar with the cold."

Still, she didn't think the snow outside counted as an apocalypse. But that was not a debate she wished to have.

"There is heat in the hotel, though I find it very distressing that I have no hearth. I have no idea how they keep the rooms warm. But..."

She held out the thick mass of light gray wool.

"I bear a gift."

Familiar didn't mean Lark had to endure it, though Tony frowned at her sensitivity to what he was trying to do and tried to distract her with a hand on her back to lead her toward the fire. "There must be a furnace--it's a surprise it's still working, we should go check it out--," he muttered as she spoke, thoughtful hand to his mask and startled into freezing there at her announcement.

"You have to stop doing this," he said, moving away to raise both hands then gesture vaguely toward the door where she kept appearing with offerings. "If you need something, you can just ask."

Oh surely it did. This was nothing in her experience. Like sometimes came with cold days, and she would walk them the way she needed to. The way she always had. Still, he was leading her to the fire and she chuckled at that hand on her back. What a gentleman.

"A furnace? They use those in glass making, yes?"

Still, the idea that she wanted something for the gift, it was laughable. In fact, she paused to look over her shoulder at him.

"In your world do people not give gifts to people without expecting something in return?"

They were really going to have to investigate the heating situation downtown together now, if only so Lark could be introduced to the wonders of technology and maybe be less worried about keeping her magical batteries charged. No wonder the cold didn't seem so intrusive, she probably didn't even know what a hot tub was.

Before he could ask, though, he was raising his hands to dissuade her of this weird idea of where he came from, only hesitating then because that weird idea was definitely true of the gifts that showed up at his door. "No, not at all, just--I don't get a lot. I'm hard to buy for. I have the means and the lack of self-restraint and don't give a lot of people a lot of good reason to...A bottle of scotch shows up at the office, and I know the guys coming in to sign a contract expect a favourable deal. We're not working up a deal, are we?"

Yes, they could definitely investigate, not that Lark would be very useful for helping to fix anything. Though introducing her more to technology and trying to help her get to understand it better would be very helpful.

“Well, the good news is that I haven’t bought you anything. I prefer things made by hand,” she admitted before holding out the knitted blanket for him.

“There’s no deal here. There’s just a blanket.”

Tony would have doubted the veracity of anyone else's preference for handmade items. Lark made it sound like most things she knew were painstakingly handcrafted, though, so it did seem sincere, and there was no doubt in his expression when the faceplate of his helmet suddenly popped open for him to actually consider the gift. The whole thing really had to go before he accepted Lark's generosity, so Tony waved a hand irritably as he finally stepped closer again, sending the helmet flying off in pieces in glints of yellow light from the repulsors that guided them, asking, "Where'd you get stuff to make a blanket..?" Magic, probably, he did know that, but he still readily held out his arms to take it from her. "Uh--thanks." He probably should have led with that.

“Glownie wool of course. It has been gathered regularly since well before I arrived. It was given over into my care for spinning, that I could make cloth. But not all of the thread has been suited, so I spun some yarn as well, and made you a blanket, so you can be warm through the winter,” she answered with a smile, happy to lay the blanket in his arms.

Truly she expected nothing else from him for this. It was merely a gift between friends.

"You really are magic, sweetheart" Tony mumbled, mostly muffled as his first instinct when taking the blanket was to hug the bulk of it, then press his face into the softness of the fabric. He might have been a builder, but the process Lark described sounded a lot like making something out of nothing, especially when comforts like this were vanishingly rare in the forge. The blanket might have been the nicest thing in the room now. "I owe you," he was going to say no matter how much anyone assured him otherwise, and he even brightened at the prospect because it didn't have to be entirely altruistic; "Any time you need warming up, I've got you covered."

“Yes, that does come with being a mage,” Lark agreed with a laugh as she watched Tony bury his face in her work. That was something that could easily make a crafter proud to see.

“You owe me nothing but your continued friendship and company, Tony. Nor would I ask for even that as a specific exchange for this. I told you, it’s a gift. Though being warm is always a wonderful offering.”

At least she accepted it in the end. With the blanket still hugged against his chest, Tony gave Lark a slow smile then tipped his head like he had to think about the options, "There's the fire, of course, you're always welcome. If no one else has shown you yet, it would be my pleasure to introduce you to the hotsprings. Whole place glows, it's like a private spa in there. If you need a quick fix, though, I have this fantastic blanket I'm sure I could share some time."

“I’ve heard tell of these hotsprings. I have yet to wander to experience them. At my circle we have communal bathhouses that we use in that manner,” Lark explained. Granted the women and men had their spaces divided, but that didn’t bother her.

“And I’m sure the blanket is very warm, and enchanted to hold that warmth well.”

They weren't yet speaking the same language, because Lark left Tony blinking and trying to work out what a 'circle' could entail, and the possibilities were too diverse for him to land anywhere confidently. "Your...knitting circle?" he tried. Knitting could be the kind of hobby you needed to clean up after, it wasn't like he knew very well, though that did really change his perception of Rhodey's mom and her friends.

'Enchanted' was a little more direct, enough for Tony to narrow his eyes suspiciously with a quick glance down at the blanket, though he still held it tightly. "What happens if it breaks?" he asked.

Oh no, their languages (or at least those languages as were influenced by their inherent cultures) were just a touch too different to easily overlap, or be understood. Quite difficult. But she was happy to explain.

“No, not a knitting circle. My home is the Winding Circle. It is one of the temple lands held by the Living Circle order, of which I’m a dedicate. It is more my home, and partially a place I am responsible for and sworn to.”

In fact, she was a high level Dedicate Initiate, which meant she had some small hand in the running of the place. And a far larger hand in serving in the governance of magic users, when an active hand needed taken.

“Well, if the threads break you can tell me. I will likely be able to repair the thing.”

A thread breaking wasn't really Tony's concern, he was used to that kind of break, though Lark thinking to answer him that way did now make him concerned that whatever magic was in the blanket was that tenuous, and he glanced down at at like it was challenging him again. Maybe it would just be a normal, unenchanted blanket if he neglected to mention a frayed edge to Lark.

He finally released one arm from the bundle to return to leading her toward the fire, where he had to pile the blanket up on the workbench to search around for that dusty tin of tea he was sure he left nearby in case anyone turned up. "Gotta be honest, that sounds pretty medieval to me. Feudalistic. If we have places like that anymore on Earth, its a bunch of monks in hidden cities, pocket dimensions. You're allowed to leave, right? You can go catch your acrobat friends down at the bar if they're in town?"

Alas for her lack of understanding. Lark didn’t know that he was questioning the magic itself, which would hold firm for years to come unless someone deliberately broke the enchantments she had woven into the fabric itself. Which was no easy task, especially with the enchantment coming from a Great Mage in the full bloom of their talent. She was actually more concerned by the fraying itself, which was far more easily done.

“Well, there are feudal systems in place, but I don’t know what you mean by medieval. And the city is hardly hidden. We frequently trade with nearby cities, and people come to us to research. I go down to the city with Rosethorn every few months to trade goods from the temple to others, and yes, I do see my friends in the rare instances they pass through town. I can also see plays and mummery and dancing, many things.”

Tony flapped his hands, starting to wonder if they should be writing dictionaries for each other because this wasn't working like whatever was translating for them how every other alien spoke; they were using the same language, just using it differently, and Tony kept expecting to treat Lark like a contemporary. That wasn't working for him. "Medieval is what we call this period of time before we figured out democracy, and condoms," he summarized. "A lot more religious. More people spent more time thinking about magic. Not that all of the magic went away, it just doesn't impact most people's day to day lives, and definitely not in a significant enough way to form social structures around. It's more like, a wizard might live in your neighbourhood, and he probably keeps to himself and doesn't do anything useful, just raises eels in the sewers or something. It would definitely be weird to knock on their door for...research. That sounds more like a college."

Perhaps they should write those dictionaries. But wouldn’t it be more wonderful to explore the skill of the tongue in trying to work around their problems?

“I don’t know what a condom is, but democracy is a very fine way to live for some people, though others seem to prefer a more mercantile system, and of course nobles prefer their own methods as well.”

Not that she couldn’t see the benefit to nobility in a world of the sort she currently lived in. Though the mention of a college had her shaking her head.

“No, I don’t think it does sound like a college. If the word is anything like I’m familiar with, it would be more accurate to say that the University of Lightsbridge is more like a college. The Circle doesn’t give in for quite as rigid of a structural set up of instruction in class form. I’ve heard quite a bit of how Lightsbridge arranges itself, Rosie took classes there. The Circle is a bit more akin to apprenticeships in some manners.”

Lark could have kept on talking for another ten minutes, and Tony still would have been aghast enough to ask, "You don't know what a condom is?" Correcting him on the college thing almost made it worse, because now he was still thinking about school and had to admit, "That whole university population is suffering right now, faculty and students, you can't do that to them, every other way they have to unwind is not productive." It was then that it occurred to him, "Unless you're all women and that's part of the deal, you could be like nuns, I don't know."

Right, he was making tea. He set a cup at the edge of the fire and went back to looking for the strainer, still talking as he rattled around, "Do you not have STDs? I take back the medieval thing, that might be a kind of utopia."

"I think you mean to say that other ways to unwind are inherently less reproductive. There are charms and medicines that can reduce the chance of having children. And yes, there are illnesses passed through sex. Though one can often go to a House of Healing or find a Temple Healer. They do their best to burn such things out of your system. Everyone in society is happier when illness is avoided."

Not that all the poor believed that the Temples wouldn't charge for such services.

"And I'm not a nun."

Looking very much like he wasn't sure he actually wanted to know, Tony eyed Lark dubiously and prompted, "Burn them out...?" That sounded like medieval kind of language, too, like illnesses were basically curses and the cure was more divine magics.

Tony was going to keep coming up with religious titles for Lark and keep looking unconvinced when she denied them, because he pouted thoughtfully and tapped a finger to his chin as he considered the evidence; "You live and work in a special place, to which you are a dedicate, serving your craft of faith with a bunch of likewise committed magic-people. Presumably all wearing skirts that come to their ankles."

"You'll have to forgive me for what I share next, because I don't have a wink of the healing gift, so I'm not fully versed in what they mean. But illness often comes in the form of the affects of a parasite on the body, like worms or things like that, or from little teeny tiny little things that Rosie calls 'bacteria' I think. Sometimes they can be magically altered of course, one cannot live in a world of magic without magic sometimes altering the world. But while she doesn't have the healing gift, her magic is for plants and what they can do, including healing, and she went to school to get better at plant based healing."

In fact, Rosethorn was one of the best in the world at diagnosing illnesses and more than that, breaking down magical maladies and plagues. There was much to have pride in her beloved for.

"She says that when a healer uses their magic they turn the body's inner defenses, like city guards, against the illness that has come inside. And part of their tools is like very carefully directed fevers, which the body already uses to burn illness away. It's not a perfect metaphor, and it's not a power I can touch truly, so I don't know how better to describe it than to use their words."

Her world was behind the times on some things, and very ahead of it in others. They absolutely understood what the cause of illness was, or at least those who were educated did.

"Yes, I live and work at a Circle Temple, yes, I'm a Dedicate Initiate to the Earth temple, yes I work my craft including with magic, but not all circle Dedicates are mages. Initiate means I am a mage. That is symbolized on my robes by the black trimming. And yes, the dedicates, and the apprentices as well, tend to wear robes when we are doing work that will allow for it. Green for the earth temple, blue for water, yellow for wind, and red for fire."

There was so much he didn't seem to understand. But she was happy with it, and happy to settle by his fire.

"And if you must know, since you seem curious about magic, mages do have a governing body as well. There are two actually. There is the Initiate Council of the Winding Circle Temple, which is the chief of our Circle Temples, and the senior mages and Governing Board of Lightsbridge. I am a member of the former. Rosie is a member of both."

So she's a mage, a religious person, a crafter, and an authority figure.

While there was still obviously magic involved, Tony's expression softened from his skeptical caution to a more curious pout as he considered that his expectation was exacerbating what communication barrier there was. After all, most of Lark's explanation didn't sound terribly magical, and if it was, maybe it was closer to the 'magic' of Asgard, logic just outside of Tony's scope of understanding.

"That all sounds very...stable," he said eventually, after studying her for a beat like he was making some objective calculation of what she was telling him. "Are we talking about...one city? With all of these temples. Or is it that the temples are city-states, and form a nation?"

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here i was about to go do dishes but no you had to call them skirts

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