Post by Chandre on Jul 2, 2017 0:26:30 GMT
Chandre was toiling away in a fairly new piece of equipment she wasn’t actually very familiar with despite the age of the technology. The forge in front of her blazed hungrily, licking the edges of the stone construct, as well as the single pearl sized item that rested at the centre of the inferno. The little bead of what looked like glass didn’t glow, melt or show any outward signs of being warmed, which was quite promising to Chandre.
Pull it out would you. Chandre said, taking a step back and letting one of her Vetruvian Homme creations meander up. This particular creation was short, stocky, and had dozens of small legs that worked in concert to give it incredibly smooth and fluid motion. It raised its arms, which narrowed to simple points, charred black from repeated entries into the blaze it once again ventured into. With a touch so delicate one would not expect from such a bulky creature, it lifted the pearl out of the fire and brought it over to a nearby anvil, placing it with practiced precision.
Chandre stooped low to inspect the item, remembering how large it had been prior. The small bead used to be the eye of a dragon like hollow she had killed almost a year ago. It had been a process to remove the eyes without damaging them, and the dragon-esque beast was neither small nor cooperative. The resultant yellow-orange eyeballs were nearly the size of a grape fruit, soft and largely fluid, but unmistakably heat resistant as the hollow to which they belonged seemed unperturbed when cloaking it’s body in flame. It was a practice in patience to remove the fluid from the eye, drawing it down to a smaller size that could be more usefully applied to a person. She had also spent quite some time fitting the little bead with capillaries to channel and funnel both heat and rietsu. Ultimately, she hoped this little eye would work well as a damn near infinite heat sink, a useful item that she hoped to make a present out of for a friend left long in the wings.
At the moment she was going through the second last process before testing, taking sand from her home land in Heuco Mundo, and melting it into a thick layer of glass to both protect the little pearl, and act as a rietsu channel.
One more layer I think. She said after examining the pearl, reaching out and grabbing a rod that lay off to the side of the forge. She filled the cup at the end of the rod with fine white grains of sand before plunging it into the heart of the flames. Chandre was actually quite impressed with how well the fire was doing, no mundane fire would be able to melt sands from Heuco Mundo, nor would they adequately test the limits of her little device. This fire was built on the bones and rendered fat from hollows she had found and subsequently cut down to component parts. It was really very challenging since in killing a hollow, they vanish into thin air, so she had to strip them of their materials while they still thrashed and struggled. It was honestly quite a cumbersome process, but one couldn’t argue with results. The fire that was born of spiritual bones burned with a fury enough to melt the sands into a white hot liquid glass, which Chandre quickly pulled from the forge to allow her Vetruvian Homme to work. The creature once again took the small pearl into its delicate grasp, and dipped it into the liquid glass which screamed and roiled at the contact of something so much cooler than itself. The Vetruvian Homme seemed unmoved by the extreme temperatures as it pulled the now glowing orb from the little cup and brought it over to its mouth. A large tongue, wide and course looking licked at the molten glass coating, steam rising from the contact as the delicate fingers moved the bead around to catch every side from all angles. When the creature stopped, the orb was once again clear and smooth, though smoky steam still billowed off it in wisps.
Bon, back into the forge, we need to make sure the eye will absorb the heat through this last layer. Chandre ordered, and her little assistant moved gracefully along to place the pearl back in the fires.
After an hour of ensuring the pearl could take the heat, Chandre once again had the pearl on the anvil for inspection, this time seemingly satisfied with the clarity of the glass and the size of the orb. She picked it up delicately between fore finger and thumb, the yellow-orange iris around a slit like pupil seeming to glow in the firelight. She walked over to her work bench; a thin golden chain lay there with a similarly gold pendant, though it sported fiery copper inlays in complex and fine filigree. The pendent looked like a set of three stylized chevrons overlapping each other, a space in the very centre clearly meant to accept a perfect sphere. Four fingers wriggled at the edges of the inlay, very much alive though they looked like the same material as the gold and copper pendent. Chandre placed the sphere amongst the fingers, which was grabbed up hungrily and held perfectly in place, the formerly wriggling fingers becoming stiff and rigid. She hoisted the now gleaming and complete pendent up into the air, examining the final form, a little amused at how the eye seemed to follow her gaze.
She beckoned her assistant over and placed the pendent over its head (the thing didn’t really have a neck to speak of). Now, hopefully fully protected, she ordered her Vetruvian Homme to walk bodily into the forge which it did without question. The flames licked at the pale flesh of the creature, ash and cinders rose up in defiant bursts wherever the multi-legged creation trod. Nothing happened otherwise though, the waxy flesh remained pristine, skin didn’t blister or become ashen, and char didn’t develop beyond what was already present on the creatures’ arms from its earlier work. Chandre gave a triumphant nod.
C’est bon, donnez. She said put her hand out to the edge of the fire, at which point the creature within removed the necklace and held it out to its creator. The instant Chandre scooped it up, the Vetruvian Homme began to feel the full effects of the blaze it stood in, skin blackening and popping. It soon collapsed into a heap, no motion left in the damaged body, the single candle flame at its centre lost and unlit even in the heart of the inferno. The lady hollow seemed unmoved by the death of her creation, only taking note that it had indeed been the pendent keeping her creation safe from the flames and not some inherent resistance. She was more interested in examining the device in her hands, how it remained cool to the touch even having been bathed in flame just moments prior. Seemingly satisfied, she marched over to her work bench. Time to make the second one! Oooh, I think she’d like a nice burnished blue… Chandre mumbled to herself as she sat down and hung the pendent from a hook by her work table. She reached into a small cooler and pulled out a grapefruit sized orb, yellow orange in colour, slick and wet in texture. Chandres’ hands seemed to splinter and grow like roots, invading the large eye like a tree invades soil. I’m going to have to go out and get more tinder… She mumbled to herself absent mindedly as she set to work.
Chandre © All rights reserved, 2015-2016.
Pull it out would you. Chandre said, taking a step back and letting one of her Vetruvian Homme creations meander up. This particular creation was short, stocky, and had dozens of small legs that worked in concert to give it incredibly smooth and fluid motion. It raised its arms, which narrowed to simple points, charred black from repeated entries into the blaze it once again ventured into. With a touch so delicate one would not expect from such a bulky creature, it lifted the pearl out of the fire and brought it over to a nearby anvil, placing it with practiced precision.
Chandre stooped low to inspect the item, remembering how large it had been prior. The small bead used to be the eye of a dragon like hollow she had killed almost a year ago. It had been a process to remove the eyes without damaging them, and the dragon-esque beast was neither small nor cooperative. The resultant yellow-orange eyeballs were nearly the size of a grape fruit, soft and largely fluid, but unmistakably heat resistant as the hollow to which they belonged seemed unperturbed when cloaking it’s body in flame. It was a practice in patience to remove the fluid from the eye, drawing it down to a smaller size that could be more usefully applied to a person. She had also spent quite some time fitting the little bead with capillaries to channel and funnel both heat and rietsu. Ultimately, she hoped this little eye would work well as a damn near infinite heat sink, a useful item that she hoped to make a present out of for a friend left long in the wings.
At the moment she was going through the second last process before testing, taking sand from her home land in Heuco Mundo, and melting it into a thick layer of glass to both protect the little pearl, and act as a rietsu channel.
One more layer I think. She said after examining the pearl, reaching out and grabbing a rod that lay off to the side of the forge. She filled the cup at the end of the rod with fine white grains of sand before plunging it into the heart of the flames. Chandre was actually quite impressed with how well the fire was doing, no mundane fire would be able to melt sands from Heuco Mundo, nor would they adequately test the limits of her little device. This fire was built on the bones and rendered fat from hollows she had found and subsequently cut down to component parts. It was really very challenging since in killing a hollow, they vanish into thin air, so she had to strip them of their materials while they still thrashed and struggled. It was honestly quite a cumbersome process, but one couldn’t argue with results. The fire that was born of spiritual bones burned with a fury enough to melt the sands into a white hot liquid glass, which Chandre quickly pulled from the forge to allow her Vetruvian Homme to work. The creature once again took the small pearl into its delicate grasp, and dipped it into the liquid glass which screamed and roiled at the contact of something so much cooler than itself. The Vetruvian Homme seemed unmoved by the extreme temperatures as it pulled the now glowing orb from the little cup and brought it over to its mouth. A large tongue, wide and course looking licked at the molten glass coating, steam rising from the contact as the delicate fingers moved the bead around to catch every side from all angles. When the creature stopped, the orb was once again clear and smooth, though smoky steam still billowed off it in wisps.
Bon, back into the forge, we need to make sure the eye will absorb the heat through this last layer. Chandre ordered, and her little assistant moved gracefully along to place the pearl back in the fires.
After an hour of ensuring the pearl could take the heat, Chandre once again had the pearl on the anvil for inspection, this time seemingly satisfied with the clarity of the glass and the size of the orb. She picked it up delicately between fore finger and thumb, the yellow-orange iris around a slit like pupil seeming to glow in the firelight. She walked over to her work bench; a thin golden chain lay there with a similarly gold pendant, though it sported fiery copper inlays in complex and fine filigree. The pendent looked like a set of three stylized chevrons overlapping each other, a space in the very centre clearly meant to accept a perfect sphere. Four fingers wriggled at the edges of the inlay, very much alive though they looked like the same material as the gold and copper pendent. Chandre placed the sphere amongst the fingers, which was grabbed up hungrily and held perfectly in place, the formerly wriggling fingers becoming stiff and rigid. She hoisted the now gleaming and complete pendent up into the air, examining the final form, a little amused at how the eye seemed to follow her gaze.
She beckoned her assistant over and placed the pendent over its head (the thing didn’t really have a neck to speak of). Now, hopefully fully protected, she ordered her Vetruvian Homme to walk bodily into the forge which it did without question. The flames licked at the pale flesh of the creature, ash and cinders rose up in defiant bursts wherever the multi-legged creation trod. Nothing happened otherwise though, the waxy flesh remained pristine, skin didn’t blister or become ashen, and char didn’t develop beyond what was already present on the creatures’ arms from its earlier work. Chandre gave a triumphant nod.
C’est bon, donnez. She said put her hand out to the edge of the fire, at which point the creature within removed the necklace and held it out to its creator. The instant Chandre scooped it up, the Vetruvian Homme began to feel the full effects of the blaze it stood in, skin blackening and popping. It soon collapsed into a heap, no motion left in the damaged body, the single candle flame at its centre lost and unlit even in the heart of the inferno. The lady hollow seemed unmoved by the death of her creation, only taking note that it had indeed been the pendent keeping her creation safe from the flames and not some inherent resistance. She was more interested in examining the device in her hands, how it remained cool to the touch even having been bathed in flame just moments prior. Seemingly satisfied, she marched over to her work bench. Time to make the second one! Oooh, I think she’d like a nice burnished blue… Chandre mumbled to herself as she sat down and hung the pendent from a hook by her work table. She reached into a small cooler and pulled out a grapefruit sized orb, yellow orange in colour, slick and wet in texture. Chandres’ hands seemed to splinter and grow like roots, invading the large eye like a tree invades soil. I’m going to have to go out and get more tinder… She mumbled to herself absent mindedly as she set to work.
