trans_9 | Nothing splendid was ever created in cold blood.

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Nothing splendid was ever created in cold blood. - future-dated to post Rebellion

Who: Presea & OPEN
Where: the City, especially in/around Hiccup's forge
Summary: [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

As patchwork as it was, Presea liked the City. It seemed like every corner she turned, there was something entirely new to see, and the people who moved around her looked as though they'd lived such interesting lives. It was all she could do not to stop and stare sometimes at a tall building here, or an unusual feature there.

She knew where she was going, but she wasn't in any particular hurry. She was a little surprised with herself that she'd taken so long to find a forge, given her love for her craft. Now she was coming as someone who needed work done, rather than waiting as the one who did the work. Her sword had served her well during the Rebellion, but the Kesseks' armor had blunted it, and there was a small chip in the blade as well.

Perhaps Hiccup would let her work on it herself. It'd be a good way to demonstrate her skills. With the warmth of the sun on her face, and a cheerful feeling in her heart, she continued walking, occasionally smiling at passersby.

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Hiccup was hard at work inside but the door was open for customers and visitors, and so were all the windows. The fight had put a dint and a ding in many a weapon and that meant a lot of repairs. He was working shirtless but wearing his blacksmith's apron, and that probably had to do with the fact that he was sweating buckets. It wasn't so much that the forge was too hot--it was getting a nice breeze coming in through the open windows--but that he'd been working nonstop for hours with hardly any break.

Somebody was trying to distract himself from something.

Regardless of the need for distraction, he still flashed Presea a friendly smile when she walked in.

"What can I do you for?" he asked helpfully.

Presea smiled in return. She was also wearing a worn leather apron over her plantsuit, the personal item she'd gotten when she showed up here. She wore it all the time, not just at the forge; the familiar weight was comforting.

"Are you Hiccup?" she asked. "I've been told you're the one who runs this forge. I'm a smith myself and was hoping to get space to do some repairs."

"That's me," said Hiccup genially. "As for forge space, you're welcome to share mine, or there's another one not far from here. Daja's old forge--she was an old crew member that got repodded. Depends on what you prefer in terms of tools and the forge itself. Mine's gas powered."

The idea of sharing space with another smith was tempting. She hadn't done that since her training. She wasn't quite sure what to make of the gas power, though. How could gas power anything? It just hung around in the air, right?

"How does that work?" she said curiously. "I've never used one like that before. Coals and firewood for me."

"It's pretty complicated but it sort of channels the gas into the hearth to keep the fire going. It burns just like coal or wood, but much cleaner."

He adjusted the flame to show her how it could get larger or smaller.

"You have much better control over the temperature."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" she said, eyes bright with interest. "That will make things so much easier. --Are you a full smith, Hiccup? Or an apprentice still? Perhaps we could teach each other a bit."

"That's...actually a tough one," Hiccup said, looking somewhat perplexed. "On the one hand, I wouldn't say my work's all that great, but it is pretty solid and I learned a lot in a very short time from Daja. I've been working on my own for a while. So maybe, I guess? I'm certainly no master blacksmith though and I'd love to learn anything I can from you--and teach anything I can, too. I've learned a lot from Daja and a lot from books on metallurgy and blacksmithing in the media library. You should see how far it's come on some worlds."

"I didn't feel much like a master at the start either," she confided with a smile. "Much less the Pharle -- the head smith in my country. But I was about your age, I think."

It was a shame that this Daja wasn't around anymore -- the more smiths the better, she thought -- but between the two of them, they would have plenty of work. And plenty to teach each other, it sounded like. Books on smithing, imagine that!

"I think we have plenty to teach each other, then. I'd love to join you here." She shut her eyes a moment, looking serene. "It smells like home."

"I'd say it smells like home to me, but there's not enough Eau de Sweaty Viking. The blacksmith I was apprenticed under was pretty distinctive, in personality and smell."

Good ol' Gobber. He missed him. He hadn't given up hope he was in the pods and planned to talk his ear off if he was ever released.

Applejack had planted herself by the river, all weariness and heavy-lidded. Shifting supplies around for the sake of the battle hadn't been an easy task at all, and now all she wanted was a little rest and relaxation.

She lifted her head as a shadow passed by, peering around the brim of her hat. "Looks like you're carrying an awful lot."

Applejack hadn't quite registered in Presea's mind and she was surprised as the pony called out. She'd assumed the pony was asleep, or perhaps not a talking animal. Then again, she'd never seen a horse that color. She had to be special.

Presea shifted the weight of her weaponry from one shoulder to the other and smiled, pausing in her walk. There was no rush. She could say hello.

"It's not as bad as it looks," she said carelessly. A blacksmith had to be used to carrying around heavy metal, actually. "Although I'm a little sad to miss my afternoon nap."

"You sure?" Applejack asked. She wasn't feeling all that great herself, heavy bandaging on her leg considered, but she wouldn't let another person go on lifting heavy weights without at least a little talk.

"How'd you get saddled with so much by your lonesome, anyhow?"

"Well, maybe I could use a break," she said, not minding the excuse, and set her things down carefully before taking a seat near the pony. It was nice to have time to just sit and talk without having to worry about what you were saying and how the Daligig or Stacey would interpret it.

She shook her head to Applejack's question. "It's not so much. I'm a weaponsmith, so I'm used to heavy loads. I'm looking for a forge out here, so I can ply my trade. Even the best blades need maintenance, after all.

"But in any case, it would be rude to ask your help. I wouldn't want you to strain your wound!"

Applejack shifted to give the woman some room. Everypony could use a break once in a while! She looked up at her curiously.

"Yeah. I usually carry some heavy loads to. I've gotta be strong if I want the apples to fall. I just don't know how long it'll be before I can handle it again."

She made a valiant effort not to sound too heartbroken about that. "So the battle went all right for you?"

"If you want the apples to fall? Are you a farmer?" she asked curiously. She noted the brief sadness in the pony's voice. She'd be sad too if she were laid up and couldn't do any weaponsmithing. It had happened a few times before, and she always thought she'd go stir-crazy.

"Fairly well, I think," she said, in answer to the question. "I didn't lose anyone." She shook her head a moment. "I feel a little bad saying that, as if it only mattered if I'd known them. But the ship is so big..."

"Sure am! Farmer of Sweet Apple Acres. I've been doing my best to try and bring some fruits and veggies to us all. It's slow going, though."

It was all right. Applejack understood. There were so many people lost, though not to death this time. It hurt to say goodbye to a friend, and even worse if they were never coming back.

"And you don't know where to look next?"

"Oh, that's wonderful! Well, anything would be better than cafeteria food, but I really miss good vegetables," Presea said enthusiastically. She was surprised for a moment that there was somewhere you could farm here -- what about the sun? -- but then again, if it were at all possible, people would manage, and Applejack clearly was.

"I don't, really," she admitted. "I'm not really a warrior, myself. And not sure what we're fighting, at this point. So I try to take things day by day."

"I'm not a born fighter either," Applejack agreed. She glanced down at her hooves. "I can pack in a walloping when I need to, but what I've got isn't too good against these critters. We need things called guns."

And a pony couldn't wield one, of course. So she needed another way to be useful...and it struck Applejack that Presea wanted one as well. "You could garden with me, if you wanted something to do.

Presea happened to walk by the tavern just as Kang was finishing up repairing the tail portion of the dragon on the roof. The exterior had sustained minor damages during the rebellion that wouldn't take him more than a few hours, if that, to fix. He didn't bother using the ladder to get down, instead jumping off and extending his wings to land safely; it made the grapefruit-sized hole in the membrane of one of them very obvious. He noticed the woman almost immediately, and nodded at her, recognizing her from the armory. "Ma'am."

"Oh, hello!" she said, taking a step back instinctively. She hadn't been looking above herself and his appearance was a bit of a surprise, all the more so because she hadn't seen him up close except for those few minutes in the armory. He looked to her like an upright griffin, the wings lovely even with the damage.

"I've seen many people doing repairs today," she said, and shrugged, pointing to the sword at her side. "Me too. Is this your tavern?"

She hadn't been in there yet. 'The Drunken Dragon,' huh. Well, she liked it already.

"Sorry. I should have warned you before I jumped down," Kang folded his wings back into their customary position and held out his hand in greeting. "We didn't have time for introductions before. My name is Kang, and yes, it's mine. Until the owner wakes up, at least." His tone suggested that the owner was a very good friend.

Presea took his hand and shook once, and then bowed in her own greeting. "It's nice to meet you, Kang," she said. "Nice fighting back there, by the way. We all really made a good team."

It was nice to know that people who went back into the pods were not forgotten. Sometimes she worried about something like that happening, about one of her friends getting too close to something and ending up back in that prison of sleep. That was much less likely now that Stacey was of her own mind, but still something she thought about sometimes. Her gaze softened.

"I'm sure she'll be glad to know you're keeping it for her," she said. "It seems like a lovely place. I've walked by here several times but never managed to come in yet."

"You as well. There aren't many of us around that still use swords, it seems."

He blinked, and laughed, "I'm sure he will; it's the least I can do for someone that served me faithfully for so many years. He'd probably gut me if I didn't." Governor or no. Celdak took great pride in that tavern. "What's stopped you? If it's because you don't like alcohol, I do have other things to drink."

"I like to think they're more dependable than the sharp light weapons, the lasers," she said, the word clearly foreign to her, "but I suppose weaponry in this place is quite different than it is at home. I keep meaning to get one of those devices and take it apart to see how it works. I can't imagine making one."

But here she had gone off on a tangent. If you got her started on weaponry, she'd never stop. "He, then, my apologies." As for what had been stopping her, well, she really couldn't think of anything, except that she'd only passed by on the way elsewhere. "I don't drink much, but that really isn't much of an excuse, is it? I think I got used to thinking of a tavern as a treat, as silly as that sounds. There really wasn't one close to where I lived before."

It had been a wonderful house, though, and she missed it. She tried not to think too much of Cephiro anymore, but still sometimes her thoughts led there. She'd only left a few months ago, after all, from her perspective.

Kang shrugged, "They have their advantages at times. Sometimes a blade isn't a practical option. Are you a weaponsmith?"

He smiled, looking up at the dragon that could barely be seen from his vantage point. "It was more of a treat for me, as well, back home. I was usually too busy with paperwork or my children to have much, if any, other free time." Of course, he'd made a point of spending as much of his free time as possible with the hatchlings.

"I am," she said proudly. "If it's got a blade, I'll repair or make it. Of course, now I have a lot to catch up on. Weaponry has come a long way here." She looked at it as a fascinating challenge.

So he was a family man. She'd never been good with children, but she'd spent enough time with them to know they were a handful. "Between paperwork and children, I'm surprised you had any free time. I always had to remind my partner to eat, and he only had the paperwork to deal with most of the time." She smiled.

"I could help explain some of it for you, if you'd like. I've been here long enough to catch up on most of the technology." Kang also had the advantage of 21st century Earth military training, but he didn't feel like explaining how he got that at the moment.

"And the rest of the time?"

"I'd appreciate that," she said sincerely. Fuu had tried to help when she had questions, but the Knight had the mindset of someone from twentieth-century Earth, which was quite a different planet than Presea's. "I haven't seen much of it up close yet, except what the opposite side was using, and that wasn't exactly the right time to observe." The corner of her mouth tipped up briefly in half-smile.

She shrugged to his question, trying to play down the seriousness of her answer. He didn't need to hear about all the mess at home, not this nice person she'd just met. "The rest of the time, we were fighting a war of our own. Things had just begun to settle down again when I woke up here."

"I remember when I first woke up and how it was all new and confusing. Besides, what kind of Councilor would I be if I didn't try to help where I could?" It'd be something else to keep Kang busy, too, and help blow off steam. Draconians were naturally somewhat more aggressive than humans; he could only go so long before he started getting antsy. "For a time, I taught a combat class with another crewmember. Now I just offer private lessons for anyone that's interested."

He smiled wryly. "Only to be thrust into an entirely new one."

It was difficult for Fuu to believe that the rebellion had succeeded--they had overcome the Daligig, freed themselves from slavery, won the battle to decide their own course. It left an enormous question: now what?

Fuu walked the City as she pondered it. She wandered heedless of blind zones, now that Stacy's true persona had been freed, simply going wherever felt the best. Despite the damage, and knowing that it was only temporary, she felt quite peaceful at this moment.

When she spotted Presea near the Plant Temple, the half-contented look on her face became a bright smile. "Presea-san! Hello!" she called, waving.

"Fuu!" Presea shouted in answer, waving back. She picked up what had been a leisurely place to meet the girl near the temple. They all would have come out of this a lot worse without Fuu, and Presea would be grateful to her even if that weren't the case. It was always good to have friends to fight alongside.

"You look like you're thinking hard!" she said with a chuckle. "Or has the sun made you sleepy?"

Fuu laughed in return; really it had been quite some time since she'd been cheerful enough to do so. But Presea made that easier. "It's the former," she said, reaching out to rest a hand on a moss-covered column.

"I was just wondering how things are going to change, now that we're the ones in control of the ship," she explained. "We've been under the orders of the Daligig for so long, it's hard to guess."

"I hope people talk to each other more," Presea said immediately. She knew that people did their best, but it seemed like any important conversation had had to be conducted in secret, like the one that she had had with Fuu and Clef not long after her arrival. "And that people feel free to say that the Daligig should be dunked in boiling water or something else just as fun." Her gaze got a little dreamy there; it was so easy to lose herself in punishment ideas...

"I hope it will be better," she said finally.

Fuu laughed, cupping her cheek in one hand. "Perhaps you should suggest that on the ship's network! I'm sure there would be a lot of people who would help you think up even more interesting punishments." Even if that word had taken on a darker significance--the Daligig idea of punishment was not easily forgotten--it was hard not to smile at Presea's daydreams.

But she nodded, a bit more serious now. "But I feel the same way. Maybe now that the Daligig aren't with us, we'll be able to find more common ground--we'll need to, now that our actions aren't being dictated by them. What we do next will be up to us."

Edited (whoops word order) 2012-06-12 17:51 (UTC)

"Oh, there's an idea!" She was going to get right on that, definitely. The world around her was so different now that she'd probably get all kinds of new ideas!

"I hope we can decide what to do without going all around in circles, too," she said, and because there really was no reason to just stand around, she waved a hand and encouraged Fuu to join her in a comfortable amble. "You wouldn't believe the arguments that we had between Clef and Ferio and everyone else who wanted a say when the other countries were invading, before you came. Everyone wanted a say! But we've got a council, so that should help, I suppose. Is that an elected position? You really ought to run, Fuu," she said, completely seriously. Fuu was pretty good at the whole saving-worlds thing, from Presea's experience.

Fuu listened with interest as she walked alongside Presea. She hadn't been in Cephiro for very long before waking up in the pod, at least not to her recollection. They'd had just enough time to meet everyone before being whisked away by the Mashin, and they had seemed in agreement enough--but of course, a catastrophe such as the one Cephiro had suffered would cause a lot of debate. Her face grew slightly warm at the mention of Ferio, and she would have asked about that, but for Presea's suggestion immediately after that.

Her face immediately went bright red. "What? Me? But--" She turned away to inspect an interesting blue flower. It seemed as though Presea wasn't joking at all, but her as a Councillor? "I'm still very young--well, Hiccup-san was a Councilor so I suppose it isn't that far fetched--" But that didn't mean that she ought to run, right? "The Council is elected, but I don't know when the next one will be... why do you think I should?"

Because the more she thought about it, the less alarming an idea it became. Or less completely alarming.

Presea was a little surprised by Fuu's reaction. Clearly the Knight hadn't ever thought about it. Which really wasn't a bad thing, necessarily. Those who tried to fill a need tended to do better than those who just wanted to become something. But she wasn't sure how to say that, exactly.

"I think you'd be good at it!" she said, smile reassuring. "You're smart, you've fought before, and you're kind. The Council needs a little kindness, I think."

Fuu thought of the current Councilors--Kang, Zetta, Simon, and Lash. They were interesting individuals to be sure, and from all indications they were good at their job, having basically conned the Daligig into giving them the keys to the ship. But the only one Fuu really thought of as friendly would have to be Simon.

There really was something to be said for authority being approachable ("approachable" here being a more diplomatic stand-in for "unlikely to be outright insulting"). Even if she felt she was a bit young to be considered authority, a Council position wasn't the same as a military rank. "Then I will consider putting my name in when they announce elections again."

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Nothing splendid was ever created in cold blood. - future-dated to post Rebellion

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Sorry for the wait! Crazy weekend.

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