fandomhigh | Blacksmith Basics; Thursday, Second Period [06/16].

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Blacksmith Basics; Thursday, Second Period [06/16].

Was there a strange sort of mechanical legs apparatus wearing Amaya's socks from yesterday on a worktable in the corner of the shop that Thursday?

Yes. Yes there was.

Don't worry about it.

Amaya certainly wasn't, as she gave her gloves a tug and the class a nod to get them started on this week's lesson. "Morning, everyone. At this point, we should all have knives that actually resemble knives, and, with a little more sharpening, will probably work like knives, too, but we're not quite finished yet. Not unless you want a knife that's going to be less than pleasant to use by having a bare tang. Which is why today, we're going to be working on making some nice handles for our blades!

"Well," Amaya flashed them a faint grin, "we're going to get started on making some handles; it's a bit of a process, which is why the idea of squeezing a whole dagger project into just seven days, essentially, is a bit of a tall order.

"So! For the sake of the class and the beginner's nature of the whole thing, we're going to keep it very simple and work with wood. I've got a few types here for you to choose from, all of it either hardwood or what's called stabilized wood, which is wood that has been dried and hardened with a variety of chemicals. If you need help choosing, I can break down the benefits of the different types we have here, but they're all good choices, and, at this point, it'll mostly be about aesthetics more than anything else.

"Once you've picked out your wood, we'll get started! First thing you'll want to do, obviously, is measure out what you'll need against the tang--that's what we call the handle part, remember--of your knife..." So Amaya broke down all the dimensions and cutting they'd need to take at first...and then the measuring and cutting they'd need to do after that...and then the measuring and cutting they'd have to do after that, until they had a nice block of wood that had plenty of room still to work with that would match the tang nicely.

"Once you're at that point, you'll be boring some holes into your wood to create a nice little niche for the tang to fit into. Of course, with the drill," all hand, by the way, no power tools in this workshop!, "you're going to create a circular hole, but you've got a rectangular tang, so with the help of a nice serrated broach to carve out our space. And this is the part where you have to be careful, because it's a lot of work, but you've got to get it just right, and if you don't? Well! Back to the woodblocks, and it's a good thing we've got a lot of 'em, because it definitely does take some doing!

"Once you actually do have a good fit," Amaya said, reaching for one she prepared earlier so that they wouldn't all be waiting on her drilling and carving, "you'll have this," she held up the dagger blade stuck into the large block of wood, "ridiculous looking thing. Obviously, a lot of this is going to be cut away to make for a more reasonable handle. Which hopefully we'll get to before we leave today, depending on how well you all manage your holes." No, she didn't hear it. "I'll definitely check your fit before we continue with that part, though, and then we'll go over how to check exactly where we'll need to carve, and then we'll get to cutting! And that should bring us to the end of our day and we can get to fancying it up next week.

"Any questions or anything to go over before I let you all get started?"

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A bit woodenly.

Graham Cracker

Irene Adler

Steph Gingrich

Stark

And maybe somewhat marvel at Amaya's incredible ability to talk about all this drilling and wood and holes with an entirely straight face.

... yeah, Steph might have done a little silent applause of respect there.

Once you get your wood, it's time to get to measuring and cutting!

And then measure and cut some more!

A little more now, and when that's all done...it's time to drill and carve, and if you mess it up, you get to start all over again!

Look, blacksmithing isn't all just hitting hot metal with hammers, you know! And at least since they're not working with metal today, Amaya's stoked the forge to only a low roar, so it's almost downright cool in here compared to when they've been really going at it with the fires.

Honestly, Amaya's ability to discuss drilling and holes with a straight face simply informed Irene that she'd have to make sure she figured out a way to create some better associations there, thank you. That was much too much innuendo without apparently any awareness.

Also, she actually knew how to use a power drill, so she was a bit resentful at having to use the boring, old-fashioned version when -- literally, she could just pop home and grab hers, it would be so efficient....

But in any case, once Irene had carefully gotten to the point where she had a pretty little block of walnut (and of course she'd been choosy about the wood -- it was one of the few chances to affect the aesthetics of this knife!) and had hand-drilled a hole into it, she once more found that this work could be downright meditative. The serrated broach was doing its thing, but she could easily see how just one slip of the hand could send her back to the proverbial drawing board.

She'd always prided herself on her attention to detail. This was the sort of thing that clearly took patience and determination, and Irene -- generally -- had both in spades.

Graham's mother and sisters were all big crafters, which meant that Graham himself was a big crafter, too, and so this part of the process was much more in line with his skills and his noodle arms. He set to the task of measuring out his hilt with an eagle-eyed focus, tongue making a frequent appearance in the corner of his mouth as he traced out perfect lines and began to cut around them.

And around the foam arrow still glued to his fingers.

He would, probably, get to the point where he realized he had no future in being an Arrowfingers, but for now, he was mostly just proud of himself that he'd adapted as well as he had.

The squirrels were probably having a delightful time taking notes on today's class and all the things Amaya had been saying.

Stark, despite having spent so much time here, was not nearly as amused as the local rodent population probably was. He was just focused now on working with his own wood, er his own piece of oak, and trying to get it right. Measuring the wood was easy enough, so was cutting, the drilling was a bit more difficult. He was being very careful about the carving and handling of the wood. He certainly didn't want to damage any wood.

Sawdust. Sawdust everywhere.

She'd been looking at those be-socked legs on the table all class -- well, when she wasn't dutifully concentrating on wood (bah dum tss?) -- and Irene...honestly, she could not help herself. She had to know, because it looked quite obvious to her what Amaya was doing there, but also...why?

"Amaya, dear," she started, approaching her after class. "Are you...making a Baba Yaga thing?"

There were only so many applications for strange mechanical chicken legs. It was that or an actual chicken, and if that was the case then Irene had a cock the size of a grown man back at the shop that she felt ought to get priority.

Edited 2022-06-16 13:29 (UTC)

But Irene! The narrative specifically said not to worry about it!

But, as it was, Amaya answered with a stout nod. "Got it in one," she confirmed, trying not to sound too pleased.

About the project? About Irene noticing it and/or identifying it? Who knows?

The narrative may as well have drawn arrows to it and circled it with a big pen, honestly, with that sort of attitude.

"Why?" Irene asked, genuinely curious. (And also, you know, sort of fond about it because...honestly, Amaya, way to turn hideous socks into a project. That was just so...wonderfully Amaya of her.)

It was a good/unfortunate thing (depending on which way you were looking at it) that Irene felt that way, since that was...pretty much the answer she was getting.

Amaya shrugged.

"What else would you do with a pair of socks like those?" Like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like she barely even had a choice in the matter, really. When life gave you chicken socks...

"I'd burn them," Irene replied fairly immediately, and, honestly, probably predictably. "I turned the last shirt I got from one of those spectacles into cleaning rags, so I'd probably do similar with the socks, really."

She looked over at the socked legs again, admiring in spite of herself. "I'll admit you're a sight more creative than I am, though."

"Well, I don't know about that," said Amaya, following Irene's eyes a little doubtfully, because it really had seemed like the only option, in her opinion, "but what I do know is that there's definitely a few witches back home that might be willing to spare a good chunk of shiny gold coins for this kind of aesthetic."

She didn't particularly enjoy dealing with witches (at least not the ones back home), but, again, she almost felt she had no choice. You just did not pass up an opportunity like this one.

"Honestly, I know a few snobbish art collector types who'd keep something like that in their foyer to show off to guests," Irene offered, shrugging a shoulder. "Folklore with a slight modern, kitsch twist? Very en vogue in some circles, I'm sure."

A pause, and, "Though I suppose an actual witch would want a functioning, walking hut."

Probably?

"Oh," said Amaya, emphatically, "it will be. A real mover-and-shaker for the hag on the go. Compact, too, for when you don't want to lug around a whole estate," or a whole tower, Hagatha, "just to get a nice change of scenery. Smooth hydraulics for an easy ride. You're sure not going to get that kind of promise from an enchantment, and I'll probably outfit it with solar panels, so you don't even have to worry about the whole general lack of electricity or other fuels!"

Her mind had been on fire after shenanigans.

"Hags don't use broomsticks where you're from?" Irene asked dryly, half-joking, half actually curious. "Or is this less pure transportation and more of a -- caravan sort of thing?"

That made sense. She imagined witches didn't travel lightly. Not the good ones, anyway.

"More a statement, than anything else," Amaya explained, "and a flex on the wizards, who tend to stick to very heavy and very anchored and unreachable castles and fortresses, but a broomstick's always going to be more convenient for your short jaunts and swooping in on hapless adventurers and lost children in the woods."

"If the wizards fancied a walking hut, though, couldn't they just magic up one of their own? An inferior one, of course," Irene wondered, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "Typical men, though."

Inflexibility in the name of supposed superiority? And in surely-not-un-phallic structures to boot.

"...they tend to prefer just enchanting the castles to float, at that point."

Floating castles. A surprisingly frequent occurrence across all the lands, really.

Tourist traps notwithstanding.

"Daventry sounds fascinating," Irene decided, in light of this information. "And really, that just sounds like hell on the poor post."

Maybe wizards received mail in a different way, though. Ravens or owls or heads in fireplaces or some shite like that.

"Oh, no," Amaya corrected. "Daventry's floating castle is crap, don't let the advertisements fool you. You've got to go to somewhere like Serenia or Kolyma for the actual one. And dealing with wizards is hell on the post regardless, any way you cut it."

"Where would you take me, then?" Irene asked, pretty pleased at how smooth that was. "Serenia sounds -- well, serene, but etymology's fooled me before."

Iceland being green and Greenland being icy and all that, you know.

Smooth, yes, but maybe not quite smooth enough, as the otherwise comfortable flow in the discussion suddenly found a...slight hitch.

"Ah," Amaya faltered, just a moment, "well. They do have wetzel wolves in Serenia, 'cept when they migrate south over the border for the winter, and they're pretty nasty customers...and then there's the were-bears. Squaddlenogs. Yeti in the mountain. Poisonous snakes...

"Now that you mention it," she concluded, "whoever named that place was really great at PR."

"Sounds like fun," Irene commented mildly -- and, yes, of course she was lying, it sounded like the goddamned wilderness, but she was also capable of being a whole lot tougher than she generally let on with most people, too. "Never met a yeti, but I've heard they're awfully shy. And I've only known werewolves, never a were-bear."

There was a joke there, about burly men and moonlight.

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Blacksmith Basics; Thursday, Second Period [06/16].

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