fandomhigh | Arts & Metal Crafts; Thursday, Fifth Period [06/20].

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arts & crafts

Arts & Metal Crafts; Thursday, Fifth Period [06/20].

"This," said Amaya, holding up something between her gloved fingers before the class at the start of the lesson, "is a signet ring, which isn't something that's used nearly as much these days as they are back where I'm from, but the cool thing about this signet ring? It started out..." She shifted a little to pull a hardware nut from out of her pocket, "this. And today? You're going to learn how!

"Before we get started, though," she said, "in learning how to make your average everyday lugnut into a functional and beautiful signet ring, you'll want to take a moment to brainstorm and think about what you'd want your signet to be. Maybe you already have one! For the purposes of this class, though, you'll want a nice simple design for ease and convenience. I'll give you guys about ten minutes with some paper and pencil to plan out your signet, and then we're going to just right into the hows and you can follow along. Any questions before we begin?"

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Symbolically?

Irene Adler

Senshi

Stark

Start planning out your signet if you don't already have one and get ready to start making jewelry out of hardware....which is the best jewelry there could be, really, if you asked Amaya.

Amaya will walk you all through the process of transforming this nut into a ring! And then you're off on creating your own!

Pretty simple project, really, and if you're really good at it, maybe you can even squeeze in making another? And then put it to use with all the wax and parchment Amaya has also provided.

Irene had nearly been late, which was not a state of being she ever aspired towards. And in an effort to not be late, and not actually play hooky -- something she wouldn't have thought twice about in a class taught by anyone else -- her appearance also belied her condition more than she'd like on any ordinary day, too.

She was, and you didn't have to be Irene to see it, plainly exhausted.

But! She was also determined to make this ring, and had carefully sketched out an ornate little capital A for her signet, and was now taking more care than even normal to follow the steps and etch it into the ring.

Probably a bad class to be a bit out of it, really, but at least it wasn't like she didn't have plenty of experience with the hot wax part, anyway.

Stark didn't wear rings but this was an interesting idea and he was happy to try it out.

It kept him busy, at the very least. There were lots of little details and things to work on. The design itself was a blocky stylized S. He'd briefly considered a cupcake but discarded the idea quickly.

Mood to be determined by how certain aspects of the class may or may not be going, tbh.

In a move that would likely surprise zero people, Irene lingered after class. She usually did anyway, but today was special in that she felt like she needed to, not that she merely wanted to.

"Think I might seal all my letters with this, from now on," she remarked casually, studying the ring she'd made and totally leaning against whatever surface she happened to be nearest with much less casual intent than usual, and much more -- you know, tiredness. "Which means I'm going to have to start sending you letters."

Let's be real, and call them what they'd be: sexually explicit love notes, really.

Could it also have been that Irene also intuitively knew that if she hadn't lingered after class, Amaya might have something to say about it? Because she'd obviously been watching her in class, beyond just that of a teacher observing a student engaged in a project, and the worried crease on her brow had only deepened the longer the lesson went on. And it had been there brewing and steeping and getting stronger with each tick of the clock to the point where she wasn't sure she could do the whole casual dismissive thing about it, either.

She thought about it. Some comment about letters would be easy enough, but the fact that her arms were already crossed in front of her and that brow had yet to smooth out under her bangs was a good indication that there was no escaping what was going to be coming out of her mouth even if she'd tried to stop it.

"Are you alright, Irene?" she asked. "You look..." There was a pause to try something a little less unflattering. "...well, not like your usual self, let's just put it that way."

Enough that even Amaya was having trouble even considering to pretend she wasn't concerned about it.

A slow, soft smile spread across Irene's face. A tired smile, yes, but even in the midst of her exhaustion, it was sort of...nice, to not be allowed to get away with playing this off?

But. That concern -- warm fuzzy feelings though it might have been inspiring, that needed to be allayed right away. "I'm fine," she assured Amaya, waving a hand. "Bloody fucking tired, but fine. Margo and I got yanked to Fillory a -- well, I suppose it was just a couple days ago, but it was longer there."

Her smile turned a little uncertain, which she would also happily blame on being too tired to keep the honesty off her face. "I would've left you a note or something, but one minute we were drinking martinis and looking at bank maps, and the next, I'm stumbling through her throne room."

That answer was supposed to allay her concerns?

"How much longer?" Amaya asked, and her forehead might just never recover from all these furrows; her eyebrows have probably never had such a workout before! "When did you get back? Why did you come to class instead of just getting some rest?"

It didn't matter that Amaya would have probably done the exact same thing, if it were her in Irene's very expensive shoes! She wasn't someone she cared about being whisked off to some other land unexpectedly for an unknown length of time and coming back looking every second of it!

"But if I'd done that, all my future letters would remain unsealed!" Irene pointed out, smiling a little at her own joke even as she started crossing over to close the distance between them. She wanted to smooth those furrows out with her fingers, maybe angle ambitiously for a hug while she was at it.

"And I didn't want to...worry you by skipping," she added, a little like a concession, and a little like she was already aware she had maybe been a bit unsuccessful on that count even with her presence. "It was inside of a week, but I couldn't tell you if it was three or four or five days." Her nose wrinkled. "It wasn't a particularly fun holiday."

Really, their little tour through Daventry and Llewdor had been vastly more holiday-like, and not just because that had been an intentional trip.

"You could've just left a message, saying you wouldn't be in!" Amaya volleyed back. "Voicemail or text or unsealed paper taped to my door."

It also might not have avoided her worrying, but if it had been vague enough, surely it'd be just disappointment outweighed the concern! But all the huffing, reluctant sense of duty in putting her arms around Irene to give her that embrace she was so ambitious lying angling for seemed to sort of fade by the time she got to that last part.

"You wanna...talk...about it?" she asked, an offer given about as lightly as that hug, which was to say not at all. "Or just put it behind you?"

"I can tell you the whole story after a nap, if you'd like," Irene offered, "but I'd be just as happy pretending it didn't happen."

A beat.

"For the most part. There was a lady-pirate who gave me some ideas about dressing you up, sometime."

This was delivered softly, fondly, and affectionately, as Irene reached up to gently trace a fingertip along Amaya's brow, under her bangs, in an attempt to smooth out those furrows a bit.

And yes, the point about a voicemail or a text or a note -- very valid. But Irene had also made a promise not to leave, and that, coupled with a very real desire to ground herself in something normal and routine and Amaya-flavored, had been the driving force that had brought her to class instead of straight to her bed, today.

"See, now," said Amaya, with a faint groan and a withering look that might have been slightly ineffective with the hint of a light smile that accompanied it, and the tolerating sigh that went with that touch, "I'm not sure if I'd just as soon rather have you forget that part, too, or if I'm actually genuinely curiously..."

Which wasn't at all true. She was absolutely curious now, and couldn't even pretend too well that she wasn't, especially if there were pirates involved and all...

"But either way," she said, and there'd be no more dilly-dallying with hugs and touches or anything else, as Amaya was now angling them both toward the door, "rest first. And then we'll figure out what's worth repeating about the whole ordeal and what's best left right back in Fillory where it belongs."

"Oh, you should be genuinely curious," Irene assured her, allowing herself to be angled. (She didn't mind this treatment in the slightest. Please, Amaya, take charge every day.) "At least about that part. Oh, and I can see fairies now!"

It was almost like having a superpower! (She was actually unsure if that part had stuck, but she was saying it had, for now.)

"Not just tired hallucinations, real fairies," she clarified, helpfully. "Though I can't see any now-now."

"Well, I'd think not," said Amaya, who was not only an expert angle-r (not angler, because that was something completely different, unless you counted because she was fishing to get Irene ho--never mind) in this instance, but also an admittedly less-than-expert-but-at-least-trying solid anchor of support as the angling occurred, just in case, you know, Irene happened to want it!, "because that'd mean they were here, wouldn't it? But that sounds helpful. Not that I can speak from experience, but from what I've heard, the last thing you want are fairies around and not knowing about it...."

The trying was wonderful, really. Particularly for someone who had, through her own doing and insistence, historically refused anchoring.

"Yeah, and she was using Margo's eye to spy on her," Irene shared, "which is the worst of all worlds -- invisible spying fairies. But it's all settled now."

Also, probably not worth mentioning that the Fairy Queen probably knew a few things about Amaya, too, considering she'd known about the cat ears that had predated Irene's...association with her.

Well, considering that even what Irene had mentioned already left Amaya stopping in her tracks a little....yeah, probably not even worth the trouble, right?

"What, you mean her eye eye," she asked, with a helpful point of a finger to one of her own eyes, "or..." The hand now gestured vaguely in the universal suggestion of something not really there, "the other one?"

Because that, if that were the case and not just a factor of Amaya's overactive imagination, definitely sounded like some supreme magic bullshit right there, and exactly the reason why her thoughts on magic were precisely what they were!

(She would be just a touch disappointed, though, if it was just spying through the in-tact eye).

"No, her eye eye," Irene confirmed, snorting out a little laugh at the unintentional aye-aye, there, "but that's what happened to the other one -- a fairy queen's had it this whole time."

(Not so much anymore, though.)

"It was supposed to be a trade, initially, but that rather explains why she wanted some woman's eye in the first place, doesn't it, if she can use it to spy on what the other one sees?"

Honestly, you know what this was? That's right, everyone, this was jealousy. What a great idea to do to someone who wasn't a direct associate of Irene's!

Amaya just shook her head for a moment before continuing on with all the angling and anchoring and getting Irene that much closer to what was clearly a well-deserved rest. "I guess when it comes to spying," she said, "the more eyes, the better...."

And she was more than happy leaving the eye and the spy of it all to the expert in this case.

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Arts & Metal Crafts; Thursday, Fifth Period [06/20].

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OOC - Arts & Metal Crafts, 06/20.