Understanding the Ways of the Artifice

[Terri Nutkins]

Nodding as she watched Marcus unscrew the back of the radio, talking about capacitors. When he mentioned MacGyver, she grinned. "Oh, hell yeah. Had such a crush on Richard Dean Anderson. So dreamy," she giggled as she slowly understood what the Contract was capable of.

"You're on!" Turning on the spot, flexible in pretty much every area, Terri grabbed her purse, a medium-sized thing that could hold an entire girl's world. Actually, that would make quite an awesome piece of raiment.

"Right, let's take a look," she muttered, unzipping the top and rummaging around. Out came a ballpoint pen, a small tube of cherry lipgloss, some hairties in various colours, some spare change, a silver bracelet and a grey and brown feather.

The last item would have made her blush if she wasn't so used to selling disgusting things at Sal's.

"What do you think? Anything we can MacGyver?"

[Marcus Evan]

Marcus nods as Terri dumps the contents of her purse. He knows it's juvenile, but a tiny part of him is still kinda glad there aren't any tampons. Picking up a couple of pennies, the elemental replaces the capacitors with the spare change and calls upon Artifice to make the substitution work. Unfortunately, when he tests the radio, it doesn't seem that Artifice was listening. Maybe Marcus isn't meant to be the one who fixes it. It could be that this is Terri's time to sign on the dotted line.

"Hmm... maybe you should try it, Terri. Don't worry about anything technical. Concentrate on how badly you need this to work and ask Artifice to lend a hand. The radio belongs to my landlady and you've never used it, so if It's willing to agree to a Contract with you, this one should be on the house. Go on, try it."

  Brief Glamour of Repair(Catch met): Fail

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2014-09-26 20:48:00		Marcus Evan rolls 9 to Wyrd + Craft (8 Again)		7, 2, 7, 3, 5, 2, 3, 7, 7		failure

[Terri Nutkins]

"Ok," Terri replied, watching as the Contract seemed not to want to work for Marcus, which is why Contracts were such fickle things; alive in their own distinct way. Marcus was perhaps the best craftsperson she knew, some of his designs in metalwork were astounding yet if the Wyrd had its mind set on something, you were never going to succeed.

Taking hold of the coins, the Beast concentrated on making them a part of the radio, instilling some hope into the spare change that by giving some of their own fickle nature, the toss of a coin, heads or tails, into the magic, the Wyrd would be satisfied with the offering.

Once fitted, Terri tried switching on the radio and grinned when crackly static came through the speakers. "There, kinda fixed," she chuckled, holding it out to Marcus. "Although, I don't think that thing wants to be fixed. People and their stuff, right?"

  Brief Glamour of Repair, 1 suxx, Catch met

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2014-09-27 01:27:57		Terri Nutkins rolls 8 to Crafts + Wyrd (10 Again)		3, 7, 6, 7, 10, 4, 2, 6, 2		1 success

[Marcus Evan]

"ALRIGHT!"

Marcus' face lights up when Terri flicks the switch and static begins buzzing from the speakers of the old piece of junk. Smiling from ear to ear, the elemental takes the radio from the beast and after turning it off, puts it back exactly where it had been resting before.

"Now that was impressive! You did it on your first try. Good job!"

Although his excitement for his friend is genuine, there is a small part of Marcus that is a bit bruised by the fact that Terri had succeeded where he had failed. He knows it's petty and stupid, but he can't seem to help the tiny nagging feeling that she just beat him on his own turf. So much for home field advantage.

"Now, I know it probably seemed pretty easy this time, but promise you won't get discouraged if it doesn't work for you next time. It doesn't mean anything if Artifice doesn't help you each and every time you ask for it. Necessity is the mother of invention after all, so It likes to keep us on our toes so we don't rely on our contract too much."

Even Marcus couldn't say if his words are meant to reassure Terri or himself. But luckily, the metalflesh isn't really one for that sort of introspection, so the thought doesn't even occur to him. Picking up a piece of copper wire, he takes his multi-tool out of his pocket and starts to slowly and methodically twist it into a spiral after he settles back onto his stool and completely changes the subject.

"So, I've been thinking about something kinda strange. Have you ever wondered how something that you hedgespin gets a mask? I mean, I've never done anything I'm aware of to make it happen, but every time someone... I mean, you know... someone normal... looks at something I've spun in the hedge, they don't see the same thing I see. It always looks completely normal to them. So, it makes me wonder... how does that happen? I mean, are we doing it without realizing it? Is it something we could control? That would be pretty cool, wouldn't it... to play around with the Mask like that? I mean, we know plenty of people that can change their own, but to put a mask over something else..."

Marcus was rambling. It's really not like him to ramble on so, and Terri knows him well enough to pick up that the metalflesh looks a little uncomfortable. She might also notice that his eyes haven't left the piece of wire he's been fiddling with since he sat down.

[Terri Nutkins]

Terri listened to her friend as Marcus took the radio and switched it off, placing it back where it belong. She felt good for briefly connecting with the Contract and felt confident she would be able to do so once more, especially when back on her own turf, safe in her workshop.

In her den.

Then, the Elemental started to say some odd things, which weren't really that odd except for the fact it was coming from Marcus' mouth. He was rambling. Marcus don't ramble. The fact he was fiddling with the copper wire and fidgeting made her even more suspicious.

"I can't say I've ever thought of it," Terri started, keeping her voice light and friendly, "but, now you come to mention it, it certainly is strange. Saying that, what isn't in our life, right?" A pause as she placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling the muscles under her clothes. "Marcus, what's all this about? You're one of my oldest friends and you're rambling," she added with a lighthearted chuckle. However, her eyes showed how much she cared for the Elemental. Any problems he had, she wanted to share as the Bishop she is.

[Marcus Evan]

The metalflesh remains silent for a moment, and then speaks haltingly, yet still keeps his eyes locked on the coil in his hands with which he continues to tinker.

"Well, I just... I mean, I was just curious... that is... I wondered... of course, I understand if you don't want to talk about it..."

Taking a deep breath, Marcus puts the coil down and returns the multitool to his pocket as he exhales. Reaching up and covering Terri's comforting hand with his own, the elemental finally meets her gaze and looks searchingly into the beast's eyes.

"What happened, Terri? To you, I mean. I'm sorry for being so blunt, but I watched Fairweather chew Spartan up and spit him out before he burned the Four Seasons down to the foundation. I don't understand how you managed to escape or where you've been this whole time. I can't tell you how glad I was when I saw you at the Boarding House, especially after getting Rick back, but it seems impossible. I mean, I thought you were both dead, and now here you are. I don't mean to push, but I have so many questions and I just don't know how to ask them politely.

[Terri Nutkins]

"Oh."

It was all Terri could say to begin with as she tried to recall just what she had gone through. It wasn't as raw in her mind as it was a few month's ago but out of survivor's guilt or something, the Beast had pushed some of it to the back of her mind.

Salome's pledge still made it real, however.

A deep breath as she composed herself, settling onto the stool and offering Marcus a small, sad smile. And then she came out with it.

"When Fairweather struck, we had little warning. Spartan headed up to the roof whereas myself and Mr. Bates tried to find an exit. I wanted to fight with Spartan but Bates wouldn't let me. When part of the hotel began to collapse around us, it blocked me from getting to Caster. It was so sudden, Marcus, we didn't have a chance. As the fire came at us, Mr. Bates opened a door and pushed me through. Before I could turn back, an explosion erupted through the door, killing Mr. Bates and blowing me off my feet. When I came to, I was being held by a filthy group of privateers. Guess where we were going?"

Terri wiped away a stray tear, her thoughts of the destruction of the Seasons and her friends too much. It as also the memory of the flames that caused her some panic. Burning hotter than the sun itself.

"The Fleshmarket. I was to be auctioned, Marcus, and Sal herself brought me. She's angry and blames us for Fairweather destroying most of her market. I had to pledge part of myself away to be free, but in return I must bring her the Dragon's tongue as proof of her death."

"I would have told you earlier," she continued, sighing. "I'm stubborn though. I could really do with your help. Yours and Rick's."

[Marcus Evan]

Marcus winces in sympathy as Terri recounts her painful experience. He once again marvels at the inner strength of this incredible woman that allows her to constantly face such horrors and yet remain so grounded and upbeat. Moving his hand from where it rested on hers, he slides it behind her and wraps his arm around the beast in order to pull her into a hug. The smell of freshly baked bread seamlessly blends with the oven-like heat of his mantle. His voice is slightly muffled by her hair and ear tufts as he holds her close and tries to convey some sense of security to his obviously traumatized friend.

"I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am for what happened to you. I... can't even imagine..."

After a long embrace, Marcus eventually leans back, but still keeps both hands resting on Terri's shoulders as he fixes her in his steely gaze. Although the warmth of a furnace still distorts the air above him, the echoes of the crowd that typically follow the elemental are strangely quiet. Terri can only hear a faint rumbling, almost as if the raucous shouts have been replaced by the low murmurings of a mob preparing to riot. It could very well be the simmering calm that precedes a gathering storm.

"Thank you for telling me. It's going to be alright, Terri. We'll fix this too. I hope you already know that I'm in this with you until the end. You and Rick are the closest thing to family that I have. You never have to ask for my help. Just tell me what we need to do to finish this. We'll cut that fucking bastard Fairweather's tongue out and shove it down Sal's goddamn throat if we have to. You just say the word. But, I need you to understand that you are not alone in this. We're in this together. Alright?"

After the metalflesh gets most of what he had to say off his chest, his shining features begin to cloud over and his steely eyes darken to an iron grey. As his brow furrows, Terri can almost imagine the cogs in Marcus' head grinding against each other. Something is obviously still bothering him.

"Did you say that Sal's a woman?"

[Terri Nutkins]

The Blackbird Bishop nodded, head rising after being buried into Marcus' chest, trying her hardest not to cry. She had cried enough already. The furnace of his Mantle, a comforting heat to her own Mantle, each a compliment to the friendship they had built over the years.

"Thank you," Terri sniffed, wiping her nose on a tissue that miraculously appeared from her purse; the stuff girl's carry.

At Marcus' look, the cloud over his face, Terri cocked her head, blowing her nose. "Yessh," she said, clearing her sinusitis before continuing. "She's like nothing I've ever seen, Marcus. I mean...at one moment I assumed she was one of the Gentry or something similar. You wouldn't believe what she has me selling there to pay off my debt." The thought made her physically shudder.

"But yes, I need your help in this; yours and Rick. Actually," Terri thought, biting her lip, perhaps worried to ask. "I was hoping we could form a Motley." Hopeful blue-eyes found steely gaze and the coming Harvest was strong in the air, mixing with the charged, mob atmosphere.

[Marcus Evan]

Marcus raises an eyebrow at Terri's unexpected response.

"Right. Sal's a woman... or possibly One Of Them... and you're working for her. Since when did you work at the fleshmarket? What do you sell there? No... forget it, I don't want to know."

Releasing his hold on Terri, Marcus gets up and walks away from his friend. Leaning under his work table, the elemental opens a shiny metal door and reaches in for something before returning to his stool. After opening both beers, he hands one bottle to his soon-to-be motley mate and clinks the necks together.

"Consider it done. Don't worry, Terri. We'll take care of this and get you out of that hell hole. It's going to be alright. I promise."

After taking a long pull from his Stella, Marcus gives her an encouraging grin. Strangely, after the beast had mentioned a motley oath, the elemental's thoughts started drifting toward the fairest that he had grown close to while Terri and Rick were both gone. Trying his best to sound nonchalant, the metal man asks the squirrel woman her opinion of the spring court's searce in as off-hand a way as he is capable.

"So, you and Aaren seem to get along. What do you think of her? She's pretty great, isn't she?"

It's not like Marcus is suggesting that Aaren should join their motley, or anything... He just wants to know Terri's opinion. As their conversation drifts to less angst ridden subjects, the metalflesh drinks his beer and simply enjoys spending time with one of his best friends. He can't even remember the last time they had spent one-on-one time just hanging out with each other. His smile widens as he gets the feeling that somehow his friendship with Terri had been MacGuyvered along with his landlady's old radio. Something had definitely been mended, and now felt stronger than it had before.

End Scene