(no subject)

[amonfire]

Characters: Amon, and YOU
Date: Dec. 23
Location: Keelai, general
Situation: Around Earth Sector + various in the wake of current events
Warnings/Rating: n/a (as of yet)

[ Amon had little recourse left open to him in the wake of the loss the Eshai in inclusion to his own return to the turtle beyond his own clinic. It was now a small, dark corner of the Earth sector reduced to threadbare refuge to the poor natives with some shred of trust left to spend on foreign presence.

While most spent their days off-shore, Amon returned to his former clinic. He spent the hours wiling away on the task of bringing the place back up to stock. Simple but time consuming tasks like moving equipment and furniture, or seeing to people that could do with some simple waterbending to alleviate chronic conditions such as arthritis or the like. It kept him busy, or at the very least, distracted from his disquiet with the recent upheavals of the world. Something told him the turtle wasn't quite ready for his particular brand of revolutionary response. ]

Comments

SABRIEL;

[amonfire]

[ Amon was loathe to spend his time here ignorant to the diversity amongst the cultures falling into each other on the turtle. So as a result, he vaguely became aware of the concept of Christmas. Or at the very least the idea that gifts were given amongst friends and loved ones around this time of year; its dogma didn't concern him so much as the practice.

Between his hours at the clinic he found the time to gather the right materials. Hav ing access to her apartment, Amon felt is right to work there for the time being. With hands recalling a craft long since forgotten to him, He crafted a beautiful wind chime made from seal and whale bones collected from the edges of the shell.

It felt appropriate. Sabriel was a soul that loved music, but was inextricably tied to Death. Both the gentle, ululating sounds of the wind passing through bone and its macabre origin appealed to him, and his idea that it would be the right sort of gift for a girl such as the like of Sabriel.

When it was done, he hung it on her windowsill before waitng for her return and inevitable reaction. Only to guess that this was how Christmas was carried out. ]

Re: SABRIEL;

[bindsthedead]

[Christmas was a somewhat foreign concept to Sabriel as well, though she was familiar with midwinter celebrations. So when she saw the windchime, and Amon through the window, she smiled, and hurried inside to examine the windchime.]

I don't recall seeing anything like that in my suite before- or in any of the shops before. [It almost reminded her of the wind flutes, though the sound this made could be heard in Life instead of Death. Sabriel couldn't help smiling softly.]

Thank you.

[amonfire]

[ Amon idly struck a piece of green-blue seaglass hanging amidst the collection of bones and metal of the windchime. He seemed to pay Sabriel no mind when she returned home, instead concentrating on how the seaglass reverberated against bone to produce and sweet, bell like noise. ]

I had hoped to see a strong breeze roll through here before you returned, but it looks as if you'll have to manage with silence for the time being.

[ With the mask it was difficult to tell if he was looking her way, but the dark slits cut into the wood were pointed in Sabriel's direction. ] I believe it goes- 'Merry Christmas.'

[bindsthedead]

If I need to, I'll whistle one up. [It's only half serious, and Sabriel laughs at what Amon says next.]

Merry Christmas. I- well, I and the Sending made something for you. Wait just a moment.

[Sabriel darts down the hallway, and there's the sound of rummaging about before she returns. When she does, she's carrying a dark blue scarf and a sheathed dagger.]

The Sending knitted the scarf, and I enchanted the blade. It should be sharper and more durable than is... entirely natural, and effective against spirits and the Dead.

[amonfire]

[ Amon laughed low, deep and humorless. ] Worth a try.

[ He fell silent when the blade and scarf where dropped in his waiting hands. The scarf he threw over his shoulder; it was soft and weighted against his shoulder. The dagger he unsheathed and inspected closely, even through his mask his eyes were quick and curious even hungry. ]

It's beautiful. [ Amon commented looking to Sabriel. ]

[bindsthedead]

Do you like it? Hopefully you won't have any cause to use it, but- just in case. [The marks flowed over the blade like water, constantly shifting and rearranging themselves.

Sabriel turns her attention to the windchime.]

Yours is wonderful too.

[amonfire]

[ Amon went back to running his fingers over the blade, mesmerized despite himself and his well-known...'bias' when it came to the magical and enchanted. ] Is it meant to be used on the Dead? I recognise some of these marks.

[ Finally he tore his attention away from the dagger. ]

Unfortunately, it doesn't have any hidden properties or any more practical uses aside from a little music when its warm enough to leave the windows open again.

[bindsthedead]

Yes- or creatures of Free Magic, though I doubt there are any on the turtle. And of course, it works as well as any dagger against ordinary people. [Which to Sabriel is a broader category than just 'people without any powers'.]

Sometimes, music is enough- Particularly on days when the weather is pleasant enough to keep the window open.