Presea & OPENWhere:
the City, especially in/around Hiccup's forgeSummary:
[Future-dated to post-Rebellion.] After the fight was over, it was time to regroup, and to take care of the weaponry that kept you alive. Presea's headed to the City to meet Hiccup and talk to anyone else whom she might encounter on her way.Warnings:
none( Heat is required to forge anything. )
"Heh heh heh."
Rainbow zipped from back to front of the pile of robot-parts that friendly... well, not exactly friendly, but helpful wolf-death-knight-person had helped her gather up and stack near the forge of a blacksmith who'd apparently be willing to help out. Satisfied that it was all there and still looking good, she dropped onto the top of the pile like a queen onto a throne, grinning broadly.
Oh, when Applejack got here, she was gonna get such a surprise!
The ruins of the City may be disheartening to the rest of the crew, but Kyladriss wasn't concerned with repairs of any kind. She stalked through the streets dragging a pile of robot parts on a large awning she'd salvaged from one of the buildings, inspecting fallen enemies with a critical eye.
She ignored circuitry and smaller parts in favor of larger pieces of sheet metal, prying the pieces off with her bare hands. It may not be saronite, but she supposed it would do.
When she judged she had enough scrap to at least cover her person, she dragged her claim across the city to Hiccup's workshop, where she had been told she could find a blacksmith. Unlike in Stormwind, it seemed that finding one here was a rare feat. Luckily this one was also a Councilor, and made it easy to track him down.
Kyladriss dragged the scrap to his front door and sat down beside it to wait.
(OOC: You can run into Kyladriss in the city while she's salvaging or while she's waiting for Hiccup, just note it in your comment.)
Hiccup was seated in his forge, the fire was turned off to keep things cool and more comfortable, and various plans for machines and weapons and other interesting gadgets scribbled on parchment and pinned up to a cork board. Candles procured from Orongo were lit around the room, though the wide windows let a light of light in, creating a comfortable workspace. Right now, he was sketching out the intricate designs for...something. It may have been designs meant to go on an axe. Perhaps.
After putting out his omnicomm message
, he waited to see if anyone had something to say.
"Here goes nothing, bud," he said, the "bud" tacked on out of old habit, before his eyes widened slightly as he was reminded by the following silence, once again, that a certain dragon wasn't there to listen like he usually was.
That was okay, though. He was going to keep busy. Throw himself into doing the best he could to help the crew. Not that it took much more than a few fish to earn the dragon's love and affection, but Toothless would be proud of him when he finally woke up again. His father would be too.
And you know what? If he did this right, and helped people that deserved helping, deserved someone else working towards their best interests, he could be proud of himself.
Okay, Vikings didn't make any sense to him.
Unqualified support without more than a fractionally basic understanding of the situation? That wasn't just weird for demons, it was weird for humans too. Normally he'd just laugh at their obliviousness and go about his business--
But that wouldn't work this time. One of the perils of taking on a human as an apprentice was the necessity of not pushing the human too far into behavior outrageous for them, but not particularly noteworthy to a demon.
Now, when he'd been training Salome Having never dealt with this sort of thing with anyone IMPORTANT OR MEANINGFUL IN THE SLIGHTEST, Zetta wasn't about to simply write off the matter. Plus they seemed to worship gods of some sort, and those sort of people usually frowned on things like blasphemy and whatnot.
So the Overlord approached the forge, or more accurately, Zetta's minion lugged the Sacred Tome towards the forge as the face on its front looked over the building to assess it.
The thing that alarmed him was the shuffling of papers. There wasn't exactly a breeze in his forge. The fires had been doused and everything had been left to cool, the fans were off, the huge windows were closed...
That meant someone was inside. He never used the lock because he didn't think he'd need one. Most people didn't even know how to use the forge and why steal from a blacksmith willing to make things for free?
Maybe he should have called for help first, but if he did, he'd feel really stupid if it was just someone popping in to ask for a job or to look around.
So he opened the door wide and stood at the doorway, looking in. Then he frowned.
"What in Odin's name do you think you're doing?"