The First Age

Full Version: The Silversmith (closed)
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Dressed in his finery, Manix looked like what he was, A Fisherman from a wealthy family. His order was finally ready. The flask that took week to design, the design that was handed over to a silversmith. A Silversmith, paid enough money, and allowed enough artisan freedom of ornamentation would ask no questions, they would love the art.
The Design was the work of weeks hunched over a little table in his hidden home. A flask, holding slightly over a pint of liquid, had a slight curve to it allowing ti to fit comfortably on the hip. Re-enforced belt straps will ensure that it will not be ripped off his belt. Silver was not necessary, nor is the ornamentation, but to get what you want, you have to indulge those those are willing to make it. The genius was in the lid. A flat top roughly 5" x 2", was set on 4 pins with springs. With a pin in each corner the lid could be pressed down and when the hand and when the hand was removed the lid would seal itself back into place. The silversmith added to the lid design, small drain holes with splash pans underneath to prevent splash-back and spillage, even if inverted upside down.
(Shop Interior) "G'day sir Smith, does me order be ready?"
Manix talked so little his deep Irish brogue surprised himself. The Silversmith donned his fake upper middle class customer smile. "Yes sir.........."
Manix never gave name, just a huge deposit, and yet the Silversmith continues to try. "It is ready, just moment."
Returning from the back room, the Smith carried a work of art. With the the surname "Lir" in bold, ornate letters, was visions of the seas. Taking the flask, Manix filled it with a sturdy bottle of sea water from his home. Slowly and carefully he checked for leaks, even upside down it never leaked. The Smith looked insulted, of course he tested it to perfection, but Manix only trusted what he could see and feel.
*smiles* sliding a think envelopes of marks over, he tipped his hat to the Smith. "Amazing work my going man, just amazing. G'day sir Smith."
. The Smith waves absent mined now he has his reward for his work as Manix leaves. Outside he attaches the flask to his belt. Slipping his hand into the water of his home he is overwhelmed. Something takes over! Treads of brown and red form and encases his flask and hand. He is not in control, he can not stop it, he cant even breath. The flask glows red, then white, yet does not burn. As fast as it started it ends, Manix quickly removes his hand, not a drop is spilled. Manix sat, or rather fell down onto edge of a fountain. Exhausted from the ordeal, thoughts now enters his head of who could of seen.
Looking at the flask, it looked plain, made of leather. Surprised he touched it, upon his touch it turned back into the work of art, yet different. The seas came alive, the waves flowed upon the sea's. Larger than life where the surname was was the image of the ancient God, Manannan Mac Lir. Awed and humbled, he knew then that the God himself had a hand in what just happened. Sitting on that edge he thought of what that meant.
The day itself was bright. A fine day for a walk anyways. Elyse had always hated being cooped up. She had always enjoyed the outdoors, even before her wolf abilities had manifested themselves. It was part of the charm of the outdoor market.

Elyse wasn't looking to buy anything, but she did stop at a few shops to look around. She smiled as she walked though the market. She took a a deep breath of air to sigh in contentment. The smell of salt water reminding her of Helsingør.

"That's odd...
She thought, realizing the scent of salt water in the middle of Moscow was out of place.

Elyse followed the scent and spotted where it was coming from. The faint scent of salt water was coming from the direction of a man well dressed in fisherman's garb. Growing up on a fishing harbor, she immediately recognized that attire. He was clearly a fisherman - and well off.

Elyse continued on her own, giving no thought to the man, although she wondered what brought him here. The gentleman was far from the sea. It wasn't until the scent changed that her attention was brought to him again.

His scent changed. She wasn't sure how to explain it, or what it meant. It was just different. Elyse looked over again and saw that the fisherman was sitting on a fountain. Elyse frowned. The man seemed deep in thought, which seemed like a quick change from his mood before.

Elyse approached him, her own personality not allowing her to not make sure he was okay. "Excuse me,"
she said, her voice soft and laced with concern. "Are you okay?"


((OOC: as an FYI, since she's a Wolfkin, she has golden eyes, but she wears hazel contact lenses, so you wouldn't notice that))


Edited by Elyse, Apr 14 2016, 01:23 PM.
Jaxen always had a fondness for silver. And gold. Well pretty much anything shiny, but the more valuable the better. Such as the ancient silver coin he twiddled in one pocket as he browsed windows. Eyes ever roaming for potential marks to pick pocket, also the richer the better, they paused on the image of a man that to all appearances should be quite poor.

The silver flared in the sunlight, but it wasn't the gleam that stole Jaxen's ravenous attentions. It was the surge of something far more valuable that came with it that pulled his feet closer.

He studied the man, a rather woolly fellow, but one who seemed about Jaxen's own age. Coin all but forgotten in his jacket pocket, Jaxen paused a few doors down from the silversmith's shop as a very familiar face beat him to the punch.

Elyse.

Jax tucked a sly smile away and aptly danced out of her line of sight, tip-toeing between shoppers, and hoping to avoid her seeing him. For now.
The sound of a woman's voice kicked in Manix's baser instincts of survival. Hand going to the flask he turned to her and froze! One, a stunning woman speaking to him, after rarely speaking to any woman was strange, most important the flask was dry, yet the "feel, smell and sound" of the sea was still there. Most important he felt the power that the sea gave him, what had happened to the ingenious lil flask, he could not have done this, could he?

Stumbling for words, he hoped she would take it at shyness and not the shock he just felt. G'day luv, just got a lil winded tis all
. Bowing slightly but graciously, he adds, Manix Lir at ur service, thank you for ur concern. I feel that all these buildings and concrete streets gets the better of me some days.
Staring into her hazel eyes, he gives her a wicked lil grin. Hoping that his weakness and fumbling was covered, he tried to focus upon the girl and not what had just happened to the flask.
The man turned with a slight motion to his waist. Elyse saw there a silver flask. She didn't react to the jarring motion the man made She had, after all startled him. The man's scent changed, but she had no idea what it meant. She was still learning how to use her abilities.

The man spoke, an Irish accent prevalent in his speech. He stumbled a bit before speaking - an action she attributed to shyness. Elyse gave Manix an encouraging smile at his polite introduction.

"I understand,"
Elyse said, glancing at the buildings that surrounded them. "It's large - and quite stifling."


Elyse took a seat next to Manix. "Elyse Andersen,"
she introduced herself, and faced Manix once more, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Your clothing - it reminds me of home.
She paused slightly. "I came from a city where fishing is a common profession."
Unwisely Manix turned out small threads of blue and white, slightly shifting the wind, putting him downwind. Taking in a deep breath he could smell the beauty and ?, nothing he has ever encountered, dismissing it he nodded to her.

Me Family has been fisherman longer than recorded history or memory. I am a Ship's Captain: However, I have journeyed, or more stranded m'self here, to search out information and tomes of ancient Celtic lore.


Realizing he was once again being careless he released the wind, bringing his hands together on his lap, he started to enjoy this impromptu moment.

From whence have u came, to end up here in this......place?
He felt it unwise to express his disgust at this city and it's population

Still warm from whatever had happened he slid off his finest coat, feeling a girl from a similar background, would not take the appearance of tattoo's as seriously as the upper class. One reason he wore many disguises.
((Hey hey. Question. Did the flask disappear or change appearance from silver to leather wrapped? Want to make sure Jax reacts correctly.))
(OCC) It changed to a leather, unless Manix is in contact with it. The in is Silver again, with fluid motion. So if u saw it before the change, or while his hand was in contact, it was silver.

P.S>, I would guess a channeler could see thru it anyways or sense it, however you wanna play it, it has turned into something more than a reg old flask.


Edited by Manix, Apr 24 2016, 05:24 PM.
Elyse didn't see him. That was a stroke of luck. Not that Jaxen was avoiding her but they had parted under odd circumstances last time and he didn't particularly feel like catching up. He finally stopped having nightmares about those damn snakes, after all.

Elyse had a habit of thinking the best of questionable characters. Elias, for one, and this guy for another. She also had a habit of sniffing out power wielders. Obviously that's what her new friend was. Not only did Jaxen feel a resonating wave of menace as he wielded that power-and nevermind with such strength- but Jaxen saw what he did. It wasn't so long ago that those flows were invisible to him, but Jaxen's eyes danced across their form now. They'd done something to the flask. It rippled and shone, and Jaxen couldn't tell which effects were a part only he could see and which were seen by the naked eye. Whatever, he salivated over the desire to know how it was done.

He sauntered closer. The cut of his gloriously expensive suede shoes made his footsteps silent, even in the busy market street. But his wide smirk announced his arrival. "Elyse! I see you're not in jail for murder or arson, so you must be well! What did you tell the police when they showed up?"
. He teased of course, and glanced at her friend to weigh any reaction.

Edited by Jaxen Marveet, Apr 26 2016, 04:22 PM.
Manix felt, not danger, CHAOS! Why would he feel chaos and why was it closing around em like a fisherman's net? Almost sending out the gift he stopped, for once thinking, no, chaos may or may not mean danger. A man Spoke, roughly his own age, yes flashy, a peacock, Manix nearly laughed aloud at the mental picture.

Jail? murder, arson, no, this was not right. Manix has spent his life on nearly every seaside wharf in the world and knew the "feel" as ones such as those, she did not have it. The new comer obviously knew her, but Manix remained quiet. He would judge the reactions and await introductions.

Manix had gotten control of himself and had put, whatever had happened to the flask, to the back of his head. He was once again a Ship's Captain in a forien port and within seconds had already planed out several defensive and offensive scenario's. This had become 2nd nature to Manix at a young age, never thought about it, his brain just developed what he needed, whether it be fight or flight.

Manix Stood When the stranger spoke, seeming relaxed but ready, yet he felt this stranger was more than a strutting peacock, and could easily read Manix. thought skittered across his mind: Back to me disguises, easier, safer and more fun.
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