milliways_bar | (no subject)

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(no subject)

[OOM: One commission, two gifts and an unexpected visitor. Small warning for a bit of blood and gore.]

Weyland returns to the bar sometime later, when he has recovered enough to appear calm again, and he carries the gifts he has made up to the bar. It looks like it's going to be another Atlantean night.

He takes a seat at the bar, and waits. There's one person in particular he's waiting for and several others he'd be very happy to see, but really any distraction would be welcome.

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"It cannot be lost," he says. "If he needs to take it off so it won't be caught on something, machinery perhaps, or so it will not be seen, it will instead fade into his flesh until it is safe for it to return. And it cannot be stolen--if someone else tries to take it from him, under any circumstances, it will disappear, and reappear with you. But you must not tell him that part, until it has happened once. You and he are the only ones who can wear it."

"So basically...once he puts it on...he's pretty much stuck with it."

She nods slowly, thinking. "Can I tell him the first part?"

It occurs to her that he may freak out if either scenario happened.

She twists the simple ring on her finger absently.

"Oh, he can take it off," he says, "but if he wants to take it off, it must be a conscious and deliberate action, not just taking it off for a moment for safekeeping. And you can tell him the first part, naturally--that much, it would be good for him to know."

She can only think of a few circumstances that he'd be taking the ring off, and she doesn't like any of them.

However, it's good to know that he's retaining the right to do so if he wants.

"I'll let him know. How much do I owe you?"

"We'll see whether you feel you owe me after we're done here," he says. "I still have two more for you. One for you, and one for your child--the one for your child, I can give in here, but the one for you should best be handled in the forge, if you don't mind."

She looks at him confused. "Um, alright? Ev first, I guess."

She's starting to worry, as she puts the ring box in her bag.

"Bring him closer," he says, picking up the smaller of the two remaining boxes, "and hold him still for me. It won't take long, and it won't hurt, but I do need him to stay still."

She picks up the sleepy Ev out of his basket, and holds him close to her, in order to steady him, before starting to sing very softly in French.

"You should be alright," she says, singing in the same melody, but directing her words to Weyland.

"It will protect him," he says quietly, ordering up a glass of vodka from the bar and dipping his thumb into it--Coreen may remember how he handles ear-piercing. "There's no need to worry about him pulling it out by accident, either. It will be safe."

She remembers that day quite well, and shudders a little, and then nods.

She idly thinks about the small, nearly healed hole in Joe's ear from being tagged.

She rubs Evan's cheek softly, continuing to sing to him.

It's probably over before Evan can even realize anything is happening. Weyland has had enough practice, after all.

So shortly there is a simple gold hoop earring in Evan's ear, and Weyland is rinsing his thumb off in the vodka again.

"He's very well-behaved."

It does startle him, once it's done, a bit, but with his mother still acting like everything's alright...it's less of a big deal. He squirms a little in her arms, and gurgles slightly grumpily at her.

After he's shown that, he's back to dosing.

"Thank you. He's a good boy."

"So he is," he nods. "Would you like yours now, then? It will... not be as painless as his gift, unfortunately, but I think the benefits will outweigh it. And it won't last long."

She takes a deep breath and nods.

"Alright. Just let me grab him. I leave the other things with Bar."

She murmurs to the Bar for a moment, and everything besides the basket holding Evan disappears.

She picks him up by the handles and slides off the barstool.

"Alright."

It's going to hurt. She knows it.

It is, naturally.

He gathers up his wineglass and the remaining box, and stands again. "Shall we?"

She nods slowly.

"What's this going to do?" she asks, heading for the door.

"Hurt a bit," he says, honestly. "But it should be worth it. You're going to be branded--it's up to you where."

Branded.

Branded?

What the fuck?!

"Should be worth it how?"

"You want to understand the speech of squirrels, do you not?" he asks softly. "This will let you. In his world, in your world, here... anywhere. Unlike jewelry, it cannot be taken from you. You will always have it."

She looks up at him, "Even if...everything changes?"

It's a valid question.

"My work cannot be changed so easily," he says. "If I say it is permanent, it is. It should even carry over if, and let us hope we never find out for certain, you were to be possessed and just a soul in here again."

She nods.

"Okay. Let's get this over with. Anywhere I want, you said...hmm...How big is it going to be?"

Once inside the forge, he sets the box on the workbench and takes out the metal of the branding iron.

It shows a stylized squirrel running, about two inches by one inch.

"Not very, so it can go almost anywhere. But I'd recommend somewhere you won't mind having a bit sore until it heals."

She shudders and sighs. This is going to be bad.

Then she worries about having Evan there.

"Do you have a piece of leather?" she asks, thinking. She's not going to just scream, and startle the hell out of Evan.

"The top of my left foot, I think."

"There's a box of leather pieces over there," he says, nodding toward a workbench in the corner. "At least some of them should be clean. I'll need you to take your shoe off, and have a seat... right there."