Yakov011001
Archetype of Steel
Luce was taken aback by how everyone filled into the dormitory with his lead. He'd done so really only to help out his new friend; she seemed so deathly afraid of the situation; some reassurance was an order. It made his ego swell up a tad. Oh hell yea, that's right; your leader has arrived. That's what you get with +5 charisma. He huffed a little in an attempt to stifle his laugh. I'm fuckin' stupid. The people following into the room each introduced themselves, though there were a number of them who seemed to miss their upperclassmens' advice about not being edgy loners and left to find their rooms without saying a word. First up was Miss Brynhildr, the small little bean Miss Rivera following up. Though, Luce's attention began to thin out for a moment when he caught one of the group staring. It was that smaller girl from Pincil. He did just introduce himself, unfortunately it seemed like she recognized the name. He felt his cheeks flush out just that little bit of red at her eyes peering at him so intently.
"I'm Barb Andilet, from Pincil. It's nice to meet you all." She gave, not some moments after seemingly snapping herself out of her own stupor.
The way she specified that she was from Pincil signaled something to Luce, that he was going to be answering a lot of her questions soon enough. In fact, the first question followed close behind her introduction.
"Forgive me, Luce was it? You wouldn't happen to be from Vencil, would you?" Luce couldn't help but recoil the slightest bit. He instinctively brought his left hand up to his chest while he massaged it with his right.
"How'd you guess?" He chuckled nervously, before attempting to sidestep the issue. "Small time metallurgy, nothing big," He flicked his left wrist dismissively. "Y'know, actu--"
"A pleasure to meet you all! I am Niklaus Nachtigall, though Klaus is preferable! I do hope we can all be acquainted soon! Remember my name, and I'll remember yours!"
It was a rather brash and brazen interruption and introduction, although polite. He made a point to note the class' limited time frame. He was right, they had not long to settle in a bit before it was time to truly begin. Luce crept around while everyone's attention was on Mister Nachtigall, making for the stairs.
"Good deal, lad," Luce called to Mister Nachtigall from halfway up the stairs. "I should probably get myself situated soon, and out of these rags." He alluded to his extremely baggy cloak he wore to fight the cold. Underneath he had a great deal of stuff he was carrying, close to ninety pounds or more; he must've looked much bigger than he actually was.
Having dismissed himself from the crowd downstairs, he took to the second floor. He glanced around all the rooms and their numbers. Thirteen, yeah that'll do it. He stepped through the door as he undid his cloak. It dropped to the floor with a clank, a number of tools and instruments having been tucked away inside. Underneath, he wore a rather tight shirt that showed off just how much all that forge work did for his shoulders and biceps. Of course, the biceps were still hidden just that little bit: he started undoing many, many belts as on those belts were even more instruments. Pliers and channel locks, hammers of different shapes, pins, rivets, nuts, bolts. He was a walking workshop. He'd made his work the near entirety of his life, he couldn't leave it behind. No matter how much it weighed him down. Still, there was one thing he had, something to call his own. On his back was a large, rectangular, leathered case: there was a bed in the room he laid it down gently on. A stark contrast to the tools now strewn about the room, he handled this case with a delicacy he showed more so to people.
Opening up the case, inside there was an instrument; not like his forging tools, no. This instrument was made for something else. This was a saxophone, not a very well known instrument, as the average metallurgist hasn't the skills to really find a proper curve in the bell to make one. The rods and padding even more complicated than that. This one had Luce's name engraved on it, it was rather high on his list of his proudest accomplishments. Lifting it out of it's case and laying it back on the bed to its beside, he then lifted the felt lining of the case. Under the lining was actually a long, bright red cardigan with a black lining, as well as several black ribbons and a black half-sleeve with knives resting inside. Lifting them out of the case, he slipped them on. He felt a warmth in the cloak, a sad one. Dæmien. Like this, it still feels like you're holding me. He rolled up the right sleeve, keeping the left one low; an ache threatening to take over his left arm. He slipped the half sleeve over his forearm, feeling over the veining of the quill shaped knives with his fingertips. He took the ribbons into his hands and tied them around his elbows, and one around his neck. He felt himself twitch. A pair of phantom lips kissing at his neck, just over the ribbon. Angela, always such a tease, lass.
Looking over to his saxophone, he heard a song creep into his mind; and he let that melody fill into his head. And the memory that followed close behind.
---
He didn't know then, those few months ago, but Luce didn't have all that much time to spend with them left.
"Angela, chill out, love," Luce chastised her as he left the forge, sax case in hand. He placed a chaste kiss on her lips. "Pincil isn't that far away, a day's travel is nothing. Besides, it would've gone faster if you helped me look for my saxophone."
"Luce, honey. You know that light magic is far to bright for that."
"Pfft, you're just a lazy sack of shit." Luce teased.
"Oh, have I been figured out?" Angela giggled at what would've normally been a rather hostile statement.
They were off to see Damien at the edge of town, as he'd been preparing a carriage for them to make the trek to Pincil. What for? Well, let's say, Luce's father had been loosening his grip on him slowly for the past year or so, considering how fast Luce had become at finishing his work. Now Luce had the chance to do something he'd wanted to for some time. Preform in Pincil, and not just anywhere, but in The Shell. See, Pincil was a city basked in tourism for many reasons, the food, the gambling, the--well--the sex work, but most notably the music. That's why The Shell was built, a large metal stage with the shape of a turtle shell, created as the pinnacle of acoustic amplification. It sat closed in the town square rather often, since it's rather complicated shape made it difficult to open. In fact, whenever any large or notable individuals request to play, Luce or his father actually need to go open it up for them; they'd built it together, and it makes them basically the only people who know how. Though, for the past while, it's been only Luce making the trip whenever it's been needed. Always for other people, but not today.
"Hey there, sexy!" A voice called to Luce as he turned the corner.
"Damien, I take it you've set us up?" Angela asked as she approached, giving him a kiss.
"Of course, babe. Didn't want to keep you waiting like someone else might." Damien gave a sly smirk to Luce.
"I'll kill you," Luce laughed, sharing a kiss and a hug with Damien himself. That was until he felt a hand on his ass. "Hey!" He swatted it aside. "You could at least wait for us to get on the road this time! Don't forget how late we were last time because of you." Luce pointed an accusatory finger at him.
They were off to Pincil for one reason, because Luce was tired of always opening that shell for other people. He wanted to preform in there; that's exactly what he was going to do, he was hijacking that shell. The three of them had been inspired by Tass. A famous musician, though he wasn't very well known by that name. See, he was illiterate, but despite that fact he always made it a point to sign his own name on his promotional material, garbage handwriting and all. People actually ended up calling him Jazz, and it stuck. Jazz's music was something interesting and bold that hadn't really been done before, and it made Luce want to get out there and do his thing even more than before. He just couldn't wait.
---
Luce had been humming the song with a shaky voice for some time. He... remembered how exciting it was. He played around with the rings on his two ring fingers: the left being black with a red centre stripe, and the left being red with a black centre stripe. He had a thought, what if Miss Andilet had been in the audience that day? No, of course not. Surely if she was, she'd've recognized him faster.
I should... probably get back down there.
Pipsqueak x_Tasia_X kasigi Spoiled Bread
"I'm Barb Andilet, from Pincil. It's nice to meet you all." She gave, not some moments after seemingly snapping herself out of her own stupor.
The way she specified that she was from Pincil signaled something to Luce, that he was going to be answering a lot of her questions soon enough. In fact, the first question followed close behind her introduction.
"Forgive me, Luce was it? You wouldn't happen to be from Vencil, would you?" Luce couldn't help but recoil the slightest bit. He instinctively brought his left hand up to his chest while he massaged it with his right.
"How'd you guess?" He chuckled nervously, before attempting to sidestep the issue. "Small time metallurgy, nothing big," He flicked his left wrist dismissively. "Y'know, actu--"
"A pleasure to meet you all! I am Niklaus Nachtigall, though Klaus is preferable! I do hope we can all be acquainted soon! Remember my name, and I'll remember yours!"
It was a rather brash and brazen interruption and introduction, although polite. He made a point to note the class' limited time frame. He was right, they had not long to settle in a bit before it was time to truly begin. Luce crept around while everyone's attention was on Mister Nachtigall, making for the stairs.
"Good deal, lad," Luce called to Mister Nachtigall from halfway up the stairs. "I should probably get myself situated soon, and out of these rags." He alluded to his extremely baggy cloak he wore to fight the cold. Underneath he had a great deal of stuff he was carrying, close to ninety pounds or more; he must've looked much bigger than he actually was.
Having dismissed himself from the crowd downstairs, he took to the second floor. He glanced around all the rooms and their numbers. Thirteen, yeah that'll do it. He stepped through the door as he undid his cloak. It dropped to the floor with a clank, a number of tools and instruments having been tucked away inside. Underneath, he wore a rather tight shirt that showed off just how much all that forge work did for his shoulders and biceps. Of course, the biceps were still hidden just that little bit: he started undoing many, many belts as on those belts were even more instruments. Pliers and channel locks, hammers of different shapes, pins, rivets, nuts, bolts. He was a walking workshop. He'd made his work the near entirety of his life, he couldn't leave it behind. No matter how much it weighed him down. Still, there was one thing he had, something to call his own. On his back was a large, rectangular, leathered case: there was a bed in the room he laid it down gently on. A stark contrast to the tools now strewn about the room, he handled this case with a delicacy he showed more so to people.
Opening up the case, inside there was an instrument; not like his forging tools, no. This instrument was made for something else. This was a saxophone, not a very well known instrument, as the average metallurgist hasn't the skills to really find a proper curve in the bell to make one. The rods and padding even more complicated than that. This one had Luce's name engraved on it, it was rather high on his list of his proudest accomplishments. Lifting it out of it's case and laying it back on the bed to its beside, he then lifted the felt lining of the case. Under the lining was actually a long, bright red cardigan with a black lining, as well as several black ribbons and a black half-sleeve with knives resting inside. Lifting them out of the case, he slipped them on. He felt a warmth in the cloak, a sad one. Dæmien. Like this, it still feels like you're holding me. He rolled up the right sleeve, keeping the left one low; an ache threatening to take over his left arm. He slipped the half sleeve over his forearm, feeling over the veining of the quill shaped knives with his fingertips. He took the ribbons into his hands and tied them around his elbows, and one around his neck. He felt himself twitch. A pair of phantom lips kissing at his neck, just over the ribbon. Angela, always such a tease, lass.
Looking over to his saxophone, he heard a song creep into his mind; and he let that melody fill into his head. And the memory that followed close behind.
---
He didn't know then, those few months ago, but Luce didn't have all that much time to spend with them left.
"Angela, chill out, love," Luce chastised her as he left the forge, sax case in hand. He placed a chaste kiss on her lips. "Pincil isn't that far away, a day's travel is nothing. Besides, it would've gone faster if you helped me look for my saxophone."
"Luce, honey. You know that light magic is far to bright for that."
"Pfft, you're just a lazy sack of shit." Luce teased.
"Oh, have I been figured out?" Angela giggled at what would've normally been a rather hostile statement.
They were off to see Damien at the edge of town, as he'd been preparing a carriage for them to make the trek to Pincil. What for? Well, let's say, Luce's father had been loosening his grip on him slowly for the past year or so, considering how fast Luce had become at finishing his work. Now Luce had the chance to do something he'd wanted to for some time. Preform in Pincil, and not just anywhere, but in The Shell. See, Pincil was a city basked in tourism for many reasons, the food, the gambling, the--well--the sex work, but most notably the music. That's why The Shell was built, a large metal stage with the shape of a turtle shell, created as the pinnacle of acoustic amplification. It sat closed in the town square rather often, since it's rather complicated shape made it difficult to open. In fact, whenever any large or notable individuals request to play, Luce or his father actually need to go open it up for them; they'd built it together, and it makes them basically the only people who know how. Though, for the past while, it's been only Luce making the trip whenever it's been needed. Always for other people, but not today.
"Hey there, sexy!" A voice called to Luce as he turned the corner.
"Damien, I take it you've set us up?" Angela asked as she approached, giving him a kiss.
"Of course, babe. Didn't want to keep you waiting like someone else might." Damien gave a sly smirk to Luce.
"I'll kill you," Luce laughed, sharing a kiss and a hug with Damien himself. That was until he felt a hand on his ass. "Hey!" He swatted it aside. "You could at least wait for us to get on the road this time! Don't forget how late we were last time because of you." Luce pointed an accusatory finger at him.
They were off to Pincil for one reason, because Luce was tired of always opening that shell for other people. He wanted to preform in there; that's exactly what he was going to do, he was hijacking that shell. The three of them had been inspired by Tass. A famous musician, though he wasn't very well known by that name. See, he was illiterate, but despite that fact he always made it a point to sign his own name on his promotional material, garbage handwriting and all. People actually ended up calling him Jazz, and it stuck. Jazz's music was something interesting and bold that hadn't really been done before, and it made Luce want to get out there and do his thing even more than before. He just couldn't wait.
---
Luce had been humming the song with a shaky voice for some time. He... remembered how exciting it was. He played around with the rings on his two ring fingers: the left being black with a red centre stripe, and the left being red with a black centre stripe. He had a thought, what if Miss Andilet had been in the audience that day? No, of course not. Surely if she was, she'd've recognized him faster.
I should... probably get back down there.
Pipsqueak x_Tasia_X kasigi Spoiled Bread