milliways_bar | (no subject)

After staying overnight in the Bar and feeling much improved from their previous encounter with Clockwork Bishops and territorial spider-monkeys, Wormwood is giving themself a tour of the outdoor grounds. The lake doesn't appear to have any hippopotamoose or giant lilypads in it, which is weird to see. Occasionally they'll stop and plant a seed in the grass, then keep going in the same direction.

The tour goes off the rails when they find the Alchemy Engine by the lakeside. The first thing they do is weave themself a backpack, then they start filling it with gardening tools made from the sticks and assorted rocks in their 'pockets'. The clinky rocks make for an excellent set of garden shears and a small but solid hammer for delicately breaking things; the sharp stones were already good for axes and pickaxes, but the round machine shows them how to turn them into a shovel. The one square of spider-silk they tore off the monkeys' tree finds new life as a bug net. They look like they're having fun, revelling in the thrill of creation; maybe they'll share some sticks and rocks if another patron wants to try it.

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"What're you doing?"

Oh hey, it's Simba! He's come bouncing over from the bar and he wants to see! This makes no sense, but nothing in the bar makes sense and he's just going to deal with it with his usual cheery nonchalence.

"Making stuff!" Wormwood says, making use of their favourite all-purpose noun to cover everything they're creating. "Hello!"

Simba comes to a stop a short distance away before padding up to the device, circling its legs and giving it a thorough look.

"What kind of stuff?"

The machine twirls its wheel attachments at Simba. All sorts of toolmaking opportunities unfold before it, but they all require stuff like sticks and logs and sharp rocks and cut grass. And some of the construction techniques are going to be harder without opposable thumbs.

"Digger," Wormwood says, holding up their new shovel. "Hair cutter, teeny smasher," they say, switching the shovel out for the shears and the little hammer.

Simba has no idea what those things are, but they look cool!

"What do they do?" he asks, rising up on his hind legs and using his front paws against Wormwood's legs for balance.

Wormwood gets the shovel out again. "Moves dirt? Takes stuff from under dirt."

Like Wormwood's plant friends, or burrowing animals. Or loot buried in graves, hypothetically.

So - digs. Which is why it's a digger, Simba supposes.

"Like a warthog's tusks?" he guesses.

Wormwood doesn't know what a warthog is! Mutual confusion achieved!

"What's that?" They puzzle over it, fitting together the comparison Simba made with a vague recollection of what a tusk is. "Tooth digger?"

Um!

"Yeah," says Simba. "Tooth digger. But a pig. That digs with its teeth."

"Twirly Tail tooth digger," Wormwood repeats, imagining a pig doing that. It's an odd image, since their mental template of a pig includes walking around on two legs and wearing clothes. Simba's world sure is interesting!

"Other stuff now?" they say, holding out the hammers and sharp implements.