Logs:The Fire Inspection
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|Logs:The Fire Inspection|
Meeting a new Wolfblood
The Smithy SH09
The Smithy is giving off quite a bit of heat, and the smoke in the back has ceased for the day. The sound of metal on metal can be heard inside with a repetitive ting-ting-TING. Once inside, the shop itself is very clean and tidy, there's no dust, and the bladed weapons are shined. The guns are obviously clean within their chained positions, smelling sharply of gun oil. A short way behind the counter stands a short blonde female wearing a blacksmith's apron. Underneath is a black t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off, and denims cover her lower extremities. Wisps of hair cling to her neck and the sides of her face. The rest of her exposed skin glistens with sweat as she works at the forge. The pounding of her hammer against the metal she's holding with tongs against an anvil, were it not for her modern style of dress, it would almost seem medieval in appearance.
Skip enters the smithy dressed in a crisply laundered white shirt with a patch on the shoulder that says SHHFD that is tucked into his blue jeans, and worn with the collar unbuttoned; a clipboard tucked under his arm. He starts to clear his throat, but realizes that she isn't going to hear him over the hammering, so instead he takes a moment to check her out. It’s not a blatantly lascivious checking her out, but that doesn't alter the fact that her form is impressive and he affords himself a few more moments of watching her pound metal before he moves further in - he stops at the counter and looks for a bell to ring, or some other means to get her attention.
There is a silver-toned bell on the counter that has a chain running around the handle, tying off at the counter, but his presence is enough to catch her attention. She doesn't look up from the work she's doing, but the hammer pauses for a moment, "I'll be right with you." Her voice has a little whiskey to it. She holds up the tongs with a bar of steel held and glowing orange at one end. It's beginning to curve, and an intelligent person would assume correctly that it's half a cuff to a shackle. She drops it in the bucket sitting next to the anvil, and pulls a bandana from her hip pocket and wipes her hands on it. She turns, flashing a smile at Skip, "Sorry for the wait."
Skip doesn't respond immediately, her smile is the sort that dazzles the brain when it emerges unexpectantly -- he doesn't respond the reflexive way by smiling back; his reflex is to frown - which he does - but only until his composure recollects, then he offers a smile back while he says, "No problem. I'm with the fire department," He gestures at his shirt, "This area wasn't originally zoned for an open forge so I need to check out your fire safety situation -- which I am sure will be fine, considering the livery is just that way." He seems done, then remembers, "Skip McCormick -- that's me."
"Jasmine Stuart, formerly of Aroostook, Maine." She keeps the smile in place, she can't help it. She's never really been around someone as attractive as Skip before in her life. She tilts her head, beckoning him to come behind the counter, "I figured I'd meet one of you folks eventually. I've got everything ready." She moves over next to the forge where there's a fire hazard kit, including everything for chemical blazes as wells as common fires. She explains the appropriate temperatures, and shows documentation for the type of stone she's using to be able to handle that kind of heat. "McCormick," she smiles again, "Nice, Celts down to the bones, eh?"
Skip moves around the counter when invited, explaining, "Don't think I've ever been to Aroostook." He considers that smile she's still flashing, "Perhaps I missed out." As she walks through the fire safety gear, he pulls the pen out of the clipboard and checks boxes as appropriate, after filling in her name at the top. "Yeah," he agrees in response to the Celt question, "Though my mother said the name was a warning that we were spicy." He confesses jokingly. He hunkers down to touch the stone in question, assessing with his eye if it matches the type it’s supposed to be -- all those science classes put to work. He also, due to proximity, catches her scent beneath the strong tang of the forge already present. He furrows his eyebrows and switches from the weak nose of his human instincts to the wolf inside him and breaths in again. This time a flood of information assails him. Information about the shop, about the people outside, about the dog pissing a block away - and about Jasmine. He rises up, leaning closer, totally violating her American Proximity Bubble and taking another whiff.
Jazz doesn't know what to do with the sniffing. She scowls for a moment before speaking, she leans over the anvil a bit, her fingers playing with the hammer, "Why are you sniffing at me, Mr. McCormick?" It's posed as a question, and her tone remains conversational, but she doesn't back away from him invading her personal space. There's a slight warning in her eyes, and the smile is gone, but she appears to be calm on the outside. Inside, her adrenaline is beginning to spike.
Considering the differences in their size, it’s literally no stretch for him to put his hand down on her own on the hammer, not forcefully but firmly enough to slow down any unfortunate turns of events as the tip of his nose brushes her head. Then he backs up a step, nostrils still flared, removing his hand. "I smell the wolf in you," is his explanation. He lifts his hands slowly, in a warding off gesture. "My intention for coming here was the inspection. Smelling you was... unplanned." He visibly loosens up, not adopting a threatening posture, but one that ready should that hammer come up and at him.
At the hand going over hers, her body tenses and her eyes flash over to the burning forge, and for a second she has a problem deciding if she wants to play light my fire time, or some other equally sweaty game, but she pushes the thoughts away almost as quickly as they've arisen. As he backs up though, she begins to relax a bit. Her hand leaves the hammer sitting on the anvil, undisturbed. Her brows furrow then she nods, "I am the daughter of The People." Her words are formal, but her father trained her well should she find herself in exactly the position she's in now. "Are you part of the ones that live at the K-E-G House?" She actually calls it the K, E, G House.
Skip arches an eyebrow at her question, but then nods once. "You know that much." He looks over his shoulder, unnecessary because he could smell anyone else in proximity, but a habit perhaps. "I am the Warrior-Who-Breaks-Down-Walls, Full Moon of the Blood Talons, and Alpha of the Nightwatch, brother of Roar-of-the-Crowd." He indicates the area around the smithy in a circular fashion. "You live now where we Hunt." He then asks, "Who are your people?"
"My father was a Storm Lord, Irraka of the Sleeping Volcano pack. I was raised by him, I know the Oath of The People, and I follow its tenants even though I am only a child of The People. Though, I have certain... issues that make some believe otherwise." She looks uncomfortable at the last, but continues on anyway, "I saw the markings of your territory, and settled in this location for protection. It's unwise for someone like me to be solitary. I can be extremely dangerous if I were left without someone among The People to look after me. My father's words, not mine, but I can see his reasoning." Jazz finishes speaking and leans back against the counter, giving Skip room to move without her crowding him by the forge.
Skips skews his mouth to the side, "The Imnir are strong, I've met more of your tribe's blood than any other since I got back here." He adds, "Aside from Agatha who lives at the K.E.G. house, sister of my former Alpha, who was an Ithaeur -- they are from Chicago originally -- there is also Lotus, who is staying with us, a Cahalith of your tribe, who will want to meet you." He rubs his chin, "You should come to the house, meet your people, meet the pack. We would welcome you, and your skills." He tilts his head the other way then asks what would once have been a strange question to him, "Do you have super powers?"
"All my youth, I never met a wolf blooded with any unusual abilities -- but of late, its seems, a most common thing. I'm not asking because I am nosy, I'm asking for your own safety and to warn you that my rage is easily triggered by the touch of superpowers -- which is why I was an excellent asset to fight against the Drowned God and the Minions of She Who Devours, but now in the aftermath I must be mindful of accidentally hurting one of the people who inadvertently brush me with their unusual talents."
Jazz flashes another smile at him that turns into a laugh, "I am a pyro- and thermokinetic. I control fire and the heat of temperature of the surrounding area. If I were to touch you with my 'superpower' you would be very badly hurt." The smile turns down for a moment, "I'm sorry, Warrior-who-Breaks-Down-Walls, are there other Children of The People that are a part of your pack? I need to know, because I don't want to hurt anyone. I should warn you, I become a monster on the full moon." She moves over and pulls the shackle piece out of the bucket of water and shows it to him, "That's why I was making this."
"There are." He considers the Pyro and Thermo kinetic thing, but doesn't let his hackles rise at the implication he would be very hurt. It could be true, but then he'd be very angry, and he'd get better very fast, and then horrible things would follow, so he keeps his own counsel. "You become... a monster? What do you mean, a monster?" He looks more curious than concerned, though he considers the shackle.
"Have you ever watched any werewolf movies? The Howling, Dog Soldiers, Silver Bullet?" She tilts her head to the side considering him for a moment, her fingers rolling the partial steel band over and over in her hand. "The night before the full moon, the night of the full moon, and the night after I become a beast similar to those in the films." Jasmine walks over and pushes a panel in the wall, revealing a hidden room. Perhaps she's being too trusting, but she feels the need to be completely honest and forthcoming with everything. She gestures for him to look inside.
Skip looks somewhat skeptical, "You mean you take the Dalu form on the night of the full moon... or you are saying you take a full one Hollywood wolfman form..." He thinks about the movies she has mentioned. "Wait, wait... you mean you take the Gauru form?" He looks bewildered at the very notion. "If so, no offense to your skills -- do you think those are going to hold you?"
The interior of the hidden room she's showed him are lined with steel plates and are clawed to hell. Jazz shakes her head and shrugs, "Gauru form and it doesn't look right. Not enough fur or something. I don't remember much on those nights." She tosses the cuff back into the bucket and sighs, "They didn't the last full moon. I'm a damned good smith, but my hope is that they'll at least slow me down, and the reinforcements I've made to my panic room will keep me from getting loose during the night." Jazz sighs, and looks him dead in the eye, "If I could help it, I would. I don't want to be a burden on anyone, but that's why my father said I needed someone to look after me. I'm sorry." She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, letting the tension go with it. Her shoulders, at least, visibly relaxing.
Skip moves deeper into the room and raps his knuckles on the plates, then he turns an appraising gaze upon Jazz, focusing on her guns and not her other more fetching attributes. "That's pretty wild, I mean... most us can only hold that form for a short time. Have you ever tried to have a Half-Moon turn it off after it manifests?" He raps the wall again, "Maybe... Titanium. Not soon enough for this full moon -- but maybe before the next." He considers a bit more. "Maybe a bank vault. I know here a bank vault might be we could... borrow." He then says, "It’s not a burden, it just is what it is. We should to Lotus about this, maybe this is some side effect of your strong Imnir blood -- maybe she knows a story about how to deal with it." He adds in a non-threatening way, "Worse comes to worse, I'll knock you out. Fenris-Ur is strong in me. Do you regenerate in that form as well, do you know?"
She shakes her head again, "I haven't gotten hurt in that form, or before changing into that form that I know of. My father used to chain me to a tree. He'd wrap the chains around me so that I had no leverage, despite strength, if you have no leverage, you're not going to get free." She snickers a bit at him knocking her out, "If you knock me out, make sure someone heals me before I wake up, please. I don't think I'd enjoy the following bruises from that... over half my whole face." She gestures to his hand then her face, showing size comparison. As for the reinforcements inside the panic room, they're about 4" thick, and very well welded.
"It's a pretty impressive vault as is... you're being very responsible." Skip says in his best "supportive" tone. "So yeah, you should definitely come up to the house soon -- we plan to Hunt this full moon and Lotus is only with us until then. So sooner is better than later." He taps the clipboard on his leg and then fills in more. "Is there anything you'd like to show me?"
"What else could you have in mind?" She gestures to the clipboard, "I think I've met the standards required for the smithy, haven't I?" Her expression is earnest, but then her brows furrow, "There's a smelter out back, if you want to see that. That's where the majority of the smoke comes from in the day time. I need to find a way to filter it. I didn't have to worry about that so much before. My father and I lived 'off the grid' so to speak."
Skip says nothing at first to her response, then he lets a sideways smile creep across his face before he exhales in amusement. "Show me your smelter, Ms. Stuart and I'll keep the rest of my double-entendres to myself." His manner has evolved into one of friendly bemusement, now that the mystery of her scent has been explored. "After you..."
She tosses another smile his direction, but then blushes realizing his meaning, "Well, then." She guides him through her rustic apartment at the back of The Smithy, through the yard of very carefully tended fruit trees, to the heavy duty shed out back, letting him inspect the smelter. "You can call me Jazz, by the by," she mentions as she's decided she likes this alpha, at least for now.
"Alright Jazz, I'm Skip." He offers, and soon afterward he gives her a copy of the form. "That's your copy. I'll be putting another at the firehouse and one at City Hall for the public record. Keep in mind the invitation to come to the K.E.G. -- I may not be there, but Agatha usually is -- on top of the Brigade Fire Chief thing, I'm doing shifts at the Clinic for my OJT and I do field support for the Lt. McNamara's Guard unit -- and there is the hunting and patroling. She's got trade connections, so maybe you two can work something out." That stressed, Skip takes his leave and lets her get back to work dutifully making one of his subordinants file all the paperwork, because, please.