Wakedays for War Golems

Log Info

• Title: Wakedays for War Golems

• Emitter: Slixvah

• Characters: Gramarye, Slixvah

• Place: GEMS - Market District, Alexandria

Lower Trades, Late Morning

A letter came in a couple of days ago to a shop, delivered with a sizable amount of platinum coinage. In a pretty, flowing script, it read.

-Hey Gram-Gram. It's your girl, Slixvah. Little birdie told me you were doing some fancy enchanting nowadays! Would it be to much to ask to get a little fortification for me? One of them cloaks. Nothing fancy, just a little bit. I'll drop by, feel free to refuse if you're too busy. I have tea for you, and not the kind you drink!

Signed, Slixy <3

Unfortunately, the said day is here, and it is pouring rain outside. A figure coasts down from up above, haphazardly landing as large wings whip and shake to get some of the water off from under an awning nearby. An egalrin waves a hand, muttering a word of power as the rain sloughs off of her before she takes in the establishment. Grins to herself, and strides on in.

The shop known as GEMS (Gramarye's Enchanting Magic Services) is open for business, helpfully declared by the 'open' sign that's hanging in the doorway. Inside, there's all manner of grandfather clocks, table clocks, music boxes, and more besides. Everything is presented in a clear and logical manner, and there's not a speck of dust nor dirt anywhere within the shop.

Gramarye herself is behind the sales counter. Her obsidian eyes 'blink' with light before she lifts a hand in greeting. "Initiating: greeting protocol. Recognition: Slixvah Unmesi. Adjusting script."

There's another blink of the eyes before she greets, "Hello and good morning, valued friend Slixvah. I have received your note and performed the service that you requested." This is accompanied by a stiff wave of a bronze hand.

Slixvah's attention is pulled about at the pristine presentation of the shop. If she had lips, they'd be stuck in a permeant 'o' shape as she looks to each clock and box. A little piece of her ponders the effort it would take to set them all to tick at the same time. That'd be maddening.

And hilarious.

"Gramarye! Dah-ling~!" the eglarin throws her hands up with a wide smile on her face, wings tucked in tight as to not hit anything as she ambles on over behind the counter. She plants her elbows on it. "So glad ta hear tha' hon. Ya loo' li' ya doin' good fo' ya'self! How ya doin'?"

"30 of total revenue from last month's sales was profit," Gramarye reports in her ever-so-usual lack of emotional attachment. "I have kept operating expenses low. Customers typically seek repairs for items they have purchased elsewhere and are unsatisfied with the quality of maintenance that other stores offer. My intention is to expand soon into other types of manufacturing."

She curtsies in that ever-stiff manner. "I will retrieve the cloak you have ordered. Please wait for retrieval."

Metallic steps bring her into the back room, covered by a loose drape of heavy cloth. She emerges a short time later with a cloak that appears to be white--except that it subtly shifts between a whole rainbow of muted colors where the shadows fall on the cloak. It's a tasteful addition to the rainbow that Slixvah can be.

A low whistle escapes the eglarin's beak, feathered brows rising. "Good strategy, Gram-Gram," she opines, head craned up to watch the tall golem. "Honestly, doin' some maintenance is a prett' good way ta get ya foot in the door wit' this sorta biz. I hope ya have been enjoyin' it?"

She flashes a thumbs up as Gramarye excuses themselves to get the item in question.

Upon return, one can find Slixvah just a couple steps away, poking at one of the winding mechanisms on a clock to try and make it tick in tandem with another nearby clock. She perks. Turns. "Oh! That's a pretty shade of white-- OH hold th' front door, toss me out, and call me carpet 'cause I am FLOORED, is that RAINBOW!?" she dramatically gasps, hopping forward to inspect the cloak. "Iz so pretty!"

"It is a profitable venture and continues Father's final directive," Gramarye responds. "This is within acceptable parameters." As always, the war golem has a funny way of communicating feelings. But she doesn't appear to have any comment on Slixvah's winding of her clocks. One can only presume she will simply set them to whatever time she wants them to be later.

"The material was procured here in the market," Gramarye replies. "The iridescent effect is part of the magic. Customers have given positive feedback on it regarding finishes for clocks and music boxes, and I wanted to test it on a magic item. The results are satisfactory."

"Well I'm glad ta hear ya likin' it," she coos, somewhat able to parse through Gram's odd manner of expression. Slixvah takes the magical clothing, running a hand over it as she can't wipe that massive grin on her face. She shifts it to and fro, seeing the band of faint colors play across it. "Satisfactory? Girl, tha' goes past satisfactory! No wonder ya got a 30 profit margin. Yeeesh, it's so nice!" She throws it over her shoulders, using a white ribbon to cinch it down between her wings so it easily slips between them but lets it flare out further down.

She strikes a little pose, turning to look over a shoulder towards Gramarye with a hand on her hip. "Color coordination within acceptable parameters" she cheekily inquires.

"Initiating customer interaction protocol." Gramarye's eyes blink. "Modification: friendly customer. I am satisfied that you are satisfied with the choice in colors."

Then there's another blink in Gramarye's eyes. "Based on my visual analysis of your feathers and the clothes you typically wear, I thought the color coordination would be suitable. There were alternative routes, but I erred on the side of familiarity to your existing wardrobe."

In other words, Gramarye pays more attention than one might think to this kind of thing.

Slixvah can't help but laugh, a hearty sound laced with a chittering whistle. "Glad ta hear tha', hon!" Ceasing her tomfoolery, she leans forward, one elbow resting on the counter as a few feathers animate on her wings to poke and prod at the new, nicely made fabric. "'ey, that's pretty smart. I do reall' appreciate it, most may think tha' ya can just throw any old color onta my getup and ya'd be good ta go! Yeah, me thinks ya biz gonna do real well," she grins.

Her gaze shifts back to the door at the pouring rain, then back to the proprietor. "So-" she starts, shifting gears in her own way, "-how much you been out and about as of late? Unsure if ya've been getting ya servos busy or what not. Been doin' a lil' snoopin' on my own."

"Query: do you mean Guild contracts? None as of late," Gramarye replies. "My weekly timesheet is devoted to labor and retail operations, followed by periods of rest. While not strictly necessary for a construct such as myself, Father's guidance is that a rest protocol is important for all craftsmen to reduce laborious wear and tear on physical parts."

Her eyes blink again. "Unless you refer to the Society of Progressive Arcanists. I have not been in attendance lately. However, I placed a request for spell scrolls through the organization to scribe into my spellbook. That request is due to be fulfilled soon as the labor output at the requisitions office allows."

"Answer: naw, just in general," Slixvah replies. "Rough tha' ya ain't got a minute tho'. 'least ya givin' yaself a break. Good man, ya father. Knows his stuff, even metal and mana crystal can crack and wane."

She quirks her head to the side. "Hrm. not even goin' up ta thems fo' stuff. Interestin'. So ya just like... been in ya shop all thi' time, sugar?" she ponders aloud before shaking her head. "Anywho. Some spicy gossip fo' ya: some were biz wit' Am'shere been goin on wit' smugglers. So if you come across any esoteric animal parts in ya enchantin' biz, might wanna double check the source. Fellwood's curse is going wonk, prolly wit' the leyline whackery. A number of Guildies have signed up, fresh faces, so might wanna keep a minor stock of stuff like this-" she waggles the pretty cloak with a feather, "-'round. Will try and throw 'em your way. What else..."

"It is considerably profitable to create magic items for adventurers," Gramarye responds. "The creation process is meticulous and requires the most application of magic compared to my other items in my inventory. Yours was customized to what I believed would be a good visual match to your appearance, however, and magic items I create for my inventory are mostly 'stock' in appearance, based on materials that I was able to obtain at the market at the time of supply procurement." In other words, yes, Gramarye really has been working in the shop this whole time, and it's mostly been fixing other people's things.

There's a blink in Gramarye's eyes before she adds, "I am amenable to more variety in my inventory creation agenda." In other words, yes Slixvah, please bring her more customers that are looking to buy new things and not ask her to fix other people's things.

Slixvah's face softens as she puts a hand over her heart. "Awww, Gram, I'm glad ya made it special jus' fo' lil' ol' me~" she coos, reaching over to pat one of those artifice-al hands.

She too, blinks (sans any lights), before guffawing loudly. "Gram! Ya gotta get outta ya shop some! I'll gladly send mo' folks ya way, but girlie, ya can't just spend ya whole time in here! How else ya gonna learn ta make mo' things? Also ya can hand out business cards if ya get out! Think 'bout it, little cards that have tiny clocks, tic-toc, inside 'em!" she enthuses.

Yes, get outside more often. As it is pouring rain currently. Slix glances over her shoulder. "... well, not now, but ya get my drift."

There is a moment where Gramarye considers things. That's usually what happens when there's a blinking in the eyes but no sound coming out, anyway.

"The argument is valid. I will revise my agenda and consider an additional day closed on the shop for pursuit of other matters." Gramarye's head, meanwhile, pivots down to where Slixvah pats her hands, lovingly manufactured ball-jointed things that even have the slight indentations of nails set into the fingertips like a young woman's hand would have.

"I am able to withstand poor weather conditions, but wish to minimize my exposure as much as possible," she elaborates. "Note to self on agenda: inquire about the purchase of advertising space in the Tribune or other venues." Gramarye is not a marketing machine, only a creating machine, after all.

Slixvah giggles, grey hands with little talon tips clinking against the metal before retreating. "Excellent, I think it'll do ya good, sugar." She squints up at the tall golem, inspecting that well made visage. "Oooh, Tribune space is good. But imagine this: you go out on a guild job-" she steps back, flaring her arms out as her form wavers. And: there's another Gramarye! But much smaller. The small golem, flicks two fingers out from those well manicured digits as there's a thin metal card. "Observation: your efficiency could be better. Please visit GEMS," the small Gram says in a monotonous, vaguely similar, tone. Birds man.

Blink.

Blink.

Blink.

Blink.

Oh, that's four eye-blinks from Gramarye. That can't be good.

"Error: processing malfunction. Restarting visual module."

There's another eye-blink, and then Gramarye intones, "This is not a 1:1 ratio replica of myself. But it is impressive." That's an actual compliment from the war golem. A rare thing indeed!

Gramarye-Slixvah holds stock still with the card outstretched as Gramarye-Prime gets their processing in order. The fake can't help but grin under the illusion, which translates to the glowing eyes gleaming brighter. The card vanishes in a magical sputter as she fluidly returns to standing with her hands folded in front of her. "Your kind words has been noted. Reminder: valued friend Slixvah possesses infiltration capabilities. Should you need any information, please feel free to-"

The facade cracks as the small golem replica gains fluidity in motions as they double over, Slix's voice cutting through the illusion before she wafts a hand to dispel it. "-feel free ta lemme kno'. Can snoop fo' ya!"

There's three more eye-blinks from Gramarye as she takes in this imitation of herself, followed by Slixvah dispelling the magic off of herself. The war golem (the real one) regards Slixvah for just a beat more before she responds:

"My analysis indicates that you are a skilled infiltrator, possessing the ability to mimic many individuals. This is a capability useful for many occasions, such as: warfare, infiltrating enemy lines, assassinations, social gatherings, and party tricks."

Another eye-blink. "I am also capable of party tricks, but not to your level of aptitude. It is impressive. I do not know when I have another party to attend, however. An extended amount of time has passed since the last party I was in attendance to."

Slixvah daintily waves a hand off towards Gramarye as she covers her face. "Oh stop it you~" she coos. "Yes I am a woman of many talents. Add to the list: espionage, discovery, and fun! Ya wouldn't believe how many things ya learn bein' something else."

The esoteric witch smooths her feathers down. "For realzies tho, thank ya. Didn't realize how much fun it is ta do stuff like that. You are very capable, wish I could do what you do. Was a wizardy lass at one point, but, ya kno' life. Anywho, hrm. Parties. Well, next time there is one, I'll send ya an invite, yeah?" she offers, hands on her hips and grinning.

"It would be a change of routine to attend a party," Gramarye responds. Finally, she turns her attention to the clock that Slixvah fiddled with, taking a few metallic steps over to it. "The last social party I attended was Father's birthday. His last one before his passage into the Halls. I was the only one in attendance besides him."

And like she hadn't just said something very depressing, she adds, "Birthday parties require a gift of sentimental value to the person whose birthday is being honored. In exchange, the person attending the party receives social interaction and the building and fulfillment of social bonds."

In the end, however, Gramarye's analysis of the clock seems to conclude that nothing needs to be done to it, as her hand falls away from the hands on the clock before she can even adjust anything.

"I have never had a birthday party of my own. Golems do not have birthdays. We are not born."

Slix's wings droops somewhat at that mote of history. "Well, uh, I'm glad ya got ta hang out wit' ya father fo' his birthday. Was ya dad not a social lad?"

She watches the golem inspect the clock, thinking her fussing messed up something, but she clocks it as a nervous or idle fiddling. She nods along, before her eyes widen- "What?!" she exclaims. "Nonsense! You can have a birthday! It'd be like... less a day of birth and more of a day of awakening! Wakeday!" she explains. "When were ya first activated? We can make that ya wakeday!"

Party girl is already planning party.

"I awakened on the 27th day of Aestry in 1013 at 11:25 am." Gramarye really only has been 'around' for twelve years, then. "But my frame is older than that. How much older is unknown. Father had a very wide range of estimated dates."

But then Gramarye turns to face Slixvah. There's a few blinks of light in her eyes again.

"A wakeday."

Another blink. "This is acceptable. Adding the terminology 'wakeday' to personal dictionary."

Slixvah counts on her fingers, other animated feathers popping up to add for additional digits as she does the mental math in her head. Both in figuring out Gramarye's age, as well as when the next wakeday would be-

She turns to the golem at the same time. She grins, a gleam to her eyes. "A wakeday! And another one is coming! GRAM! Ya gonna be thirteen! Let's throw a party!!" she enthuses, pumping her fists as the animated feathers curl and do the same motion. "Jus' a couple months away! Ooh! Oooh! When ya get a chance, gimmie a list of friends you have! I'll see if we can invite them to a wakeday party!"

Slixvah is vibrating in excitement.

"It will not be a long list," Gramarye says. "Father and I did not keep friends. Only customers. It is only now that I do have friends."

There's a couple more light-blinks from Gramarye before she responds, "Father always said the quality of the people was what mattered more for parties, not the quantity."

Then she looks at Slixvah for a long moment. Obsidian eyes trained on the egalrin.

"We will need streamers."

Apparently that is the one requirement of a Gramarye wakeday party.

Slixvah's eyes soften. "... very smart man. He sure cared about you, Gram-Gram," she intones. "And I think he'd very much like many quality people at your wakeday party."

The egalrin is being stared at. Taking this as a cue that Gramarye was thinking. She just smiles back up at the tall golem as she waits.

Her eyes gleam at the requirement. "... guuuurl. We gonna get you mo' streamers than ya can shake a stick at," she croons, giddy, and serious. Streamers are a must!

"I will leave party planning to you," Gramarye intones. "I do not have a party planning capacity."

There's a moment more before Gramarye's head turns back in the direction of the doorway. Two light-blinks pass in Gramarye's eyes before she says, "It is time to close the shop."

But... It's not even closing hours yet.

"Reason for deviation from protocol: a friend dropped by to visit. Father's protocol: invite friend out for social excursion known as 'lunch'."

Gramarye already moves towards the door before Slixvah can say anything, flipping the open sign over to 'closed'.

Slixvah gives fires off an energetic thumbs up, coupled with a magical little sparkle at the tip of the talon. "Request understood: party planning subroutine active!" she giggles. But she's stymied at the sudden shop closure.

Her beak opens to caw questions, but it clacks shut. Grins, eyes gleaming with a joy. "Gram-Gram! Tha's so sweet of ya! Sure! We can get lunch! I got an umbrella somewhere in here..." she intones, stepping up to the tall golem with a pep in her step as she rifles around in her too many robes.

Bolas. No. Crossbow. No. Dagger. No. Wand? No. Other wand? No. Where was it... "... what do you want for lunch? Maybe we can find a... math workbook somewhere? I heard differential equations is QUITE spicy!"

Umbrella! Aha! A feather holds it up, high enough for the two of them to be shielded. "Let's hit it!"