On the ninth floor of the Twinklings hotel, Diana, Jonah, Rosetta and Warren were all preparing for war. In the corner of the vast room, that was covered in smuggler's furniture, was Diana. An oilskin blanket was laid out before her and on it a collection of harvested plants arranged like a floral rainbow. Aiko sat behind her, watching and probably sending encouragement as the Druid worked with her plants. She rarely used magic on them, instead using her tools to work with the flora. The sun dried flowers she ground with a pestle and mortar. With a ceramic knife she cut along the stalks, draining the contents into vials. Once several vials were full of wolfsbane, burnweed, and other such irritants, she placed darts from the dart rose within them. The natural weapons, which had grown to a nasty three inches of length, soaked up the liquids. The grayish darts took on the vibrant poisonous colors of royal purple, dangerous orange and a sickly green. Other pastes went into jars, then the many pouches she kept on her belt, which had been enchanted by her father to be much larger in depth than they appeared. This wasn't forbidden among the Druids, but wasn't exactly encouraged either. According to Diana, her father didn't care and neither did her mother.
In the middle of the room, surrounded by half magically eaten chairs and tables, were Warren and Rosetta. Between them was a circle etched into the stone, one made of Psyin's spiked vines that contained otherworldly equations between its overlapping circles. Jonah could make no sense of the various symbols and numbers, only recognizing the equal signs. Next to the “Focus circle” were several failed attempts at armor and even simple silverware, that Rosetta occasionally glanced over at. From her grunts and mumbled comments, she desperately wanted the half shirts and warped spoons to become raw matter again. On the Sorceress's head was a white metal band that looked roughly like coral with its odd dull spikes. It was the mental link between her and Warren, supposedly giving the two an instant transmission of thoughts. Rosetta had at one time, according to her temper tantrums and the forks she had thrown into the wall, been good at making things.
Warren sat on the other side of the Focus, sighing at every explosion of anger. He wasn't able to transmute items like she was without the circle, but he could guide her magic through the circle and the link. They had been at it for over an hour and neither Diana or Jonah had said anything to the two.
Jonah had the easiest task in the whole room. All he had to do was hit the broadside of several targets. Before Rosetta sat down to her misery, she had made him several targets out of stone. Like the other rooms of the hotel, this one had plenty of empty space. Warping stone was easy for the Sorceress and she had put up a wall away from the others, protecting the giant window of the west wall. She took three chairs and made them into stone, etching rings on them. Jonah quietly told her that he needed more ammo and that any metal would do, but could he please get copper. Snapping the back off a chair, she converted the entire weight of it into copper coins. This was of course, far more than Jonah could hold in his hands, so most of them dropped to his feet. Rosetta gestured at the floor full of coins and they neatly arranged themselves into pillars. He thanked her for them and she flew away.
The plasma gun made almost no noise as it shot, but plenty when it hit the stone. Jonah felt bad and from his Bot he produced some loud and not too troubling music. The room didn't seem to be bothered by the folksy indie music, occasionally accented by hot metal and plasma hitting stone. It was one of Diana's favorite bands, having listened to it while recovering from the battle with the Ash Makers in the fog. It was now forever changed in Jonah's eyes, a calm after the storm. He wondered now if it was the calm before another.
The gun shot fairly accurately, the only problem was its user. A real laser gun had no recoil and a real plasma gun had almost none as well. However Jonah kept doing a gunslinger revolver kick with his hand after every shot. He was holding his right forearm near his elbow, the vents for the next shot coming out near his wrist. He aimed down the red dot sight of his thumb and the shot came with the pushing of his mind. For a while, each time the molten round hit the stone he paused in disbelief as the vents sucked the air, a solid two second affair. There was a weapon in his arm, all the other magical things he could do and he couldn't believe this one the most.
It was years since he had shot a real gun, some outing with his mom's boyfriend. His teenage fingers pressed on the trigger, shocked at the force that came out of it. The mad urge to spin it and put it into his holster came upon him. He wanted to shoot too fast or reload like a video game, it was a revolver and he had seen many get reloaded in a multitude of wild ways. Of course, after his mom died and the depression hit him harder than ever, he wondered what he might do with such a deadly weapon.
What if he accidentally shot someone now? No, it was his magic and he could control it. Diana didn't always have control over hers, something she deeply regretted each time. Jonah's magic wasn't the same way though. There was harmless music, videos, and then a deadly efficient weapon. The way it buried itself in the stone, it would go through a person like nothing. It had torn through that snake like paper. If he had aimed for something more vital, then it would have been him that killed the snake in the sewers, not little Susan.
That was Jonah's last concern of many. Why was he practicing? Who or what was he going to shoot? Trying to picture the stone circles as anything but inanimate objects made him freeze. His fearful and self sabotaging mind brought up Diana, and he put his gun to his side. Good, he thought, I don't want to shoot my girlfriend. He didn't want to think about her, but his intrusive thoughts placed her there anyway. Maybe he shouldn't have a gun to begin with, maybe it was a mistake to take the weapon. How would he even begin to remove it? He wasn't sure where to start.
No, he had to picture people worth shooting. Fia, the Witch and child killer, bang! Was this a good method of shooting a weapon? he thought. Who cares? He knew actual monsters. They were going to face horrible creatures that were rotten to the soul. Actual Vampires that had killed children and other innocents. Werewolves, Ghouls, Hags. This was the kind of black and white morality of a video game or tabletop Rpg. Do you care why you're killing these Orcs? No, just cut off their heads and get it over with already.
The Guardian, Werewolf, the bastard ate hearts to survive. Bang! Did it matter if he got shot? No, it didn't. As the rounds left the gun, Jonah was keenly aware that he was still firing at stone, not people. A projection of a human face, or human like, was still different from flesh and blood.
Jonah's arm was getting hot and the coins were starting to get low. To be safe, he reloaded the rest into his arm, sliding them into a coin slot on his wrist. He worried about reloading in the middle of a struggle, but that was a concern for later. Besides the full twenty rounds, his right arm wouldn’t take anymore materials.
He'd practiced plenty, the stones were all full of holes that had cooled down. The album was ending and he put on a new one of equally calming music. Bot flew to his shoulder and latched on with its claws. He hadn't considered how his familiar might be used in battle, there was far too much to think about now. It was all so exhausting. Wiping his face off with his shirt collar, he found it far more sweaty than he realized. Warren and Rosetta were still at the Focus, things going a bit better he thought. The spoons looked pretty normal at least. Aiko chuffed at Jonah and Diana beckoned him over to her little corner.
"You were working quite hard, my love," Diana said as he settled down beside her. She kissed his lips, holding her hands away from him. "Sorry, it's going to be a lot of hand washing before I can get these near you." She brought out a wood basin and filled it with water, scrubbing her hands with a bar of soap. "A drop of burnweed can hurt for hours, if not days. I barely touched the darts with anything but my wood tweezers, one can never be too careful."
He was silent, looking over her array of goods.
"You seem quite accurate with your gun. The clusters are close and neat. Maybe you should have Rosetta reset them and shoot more in a bit," she continued, moving on to dry her hands. She inspected her fingers, picking at her nails. Sighing, she showed them off to him. "Should I paint them before we go to battle? They've been so terribly plain of late, I always had them painted before. My hands and my feet. Of course, I was always with my family and someone was willing to do it for me. Most often it was Luann, she loved painting nails and she was extremely deft at it." She stared at him until he met her big brown eyes.
"Sorry, I was listening," he stated. "Painting your nails, I’d do it, I did it for my mom sometimes.” He sighed. “I'm just nervous about this. I can’t be calm like you are."
"I am only able to be calm because I know I am protected. Warren and Rosetta, they are my guards, and I trust them. As should you. The Heroes cannot kill me, or at least it would be incredibly horrible for them if they did. That is why Fia threatened my good name, not my life. Their little pets may harm me before we call in reinforcements, but I am willing to take broken bones and bruises in the cause of something greater.” She paused, picking up her knife and washing it. “A battle of integrity, one I plan to win. One I would not be on if it wasn't for you and Kalyah helping me to see and fight. I might have left when the dead Ash Makers were found in that cave, had you not spoken with me. Crossed that field like a man on the run." She smiled, holding his hand. "I am glad I stayed, I am glad I saw past the facade of the Heroes and heard all the horrible things I have heard. I feel awful for all the wretched things they've done, both in the last war and this one, but together we've done all we can to fight the Heroes and seek the truth." She set her head against his shoulder. "I hope that whenever the living Ash Makers come, that you'll be by my side again, as you always have."
Jonah put his arm around her, drawing her close to him. "I will, I will, and I'll do all I can to help," he assured her.
"I will do the same," she replied. Resting her head on his chest, she hummed along with the music playing. In the background Rosetta was still mumbling about her creation work and Warren was sighing. Diana sat there for a long moment, Jonah’s fingers streaming through her hair. “Your heart has yet to calm down, is that from me?” she asked, gazing up with a smile. The expression quickly fell however.
“What you said, it was great and wonderful, I just won’t be well until this is all over,” he said, holding his forehead.
“I will be there beside you, no matter what,” she said firmly.
He nodded.
Diana stood and straightened out her skirts. “Come on, let’s check on them,” she said, holding out her hand. “There’s no use sitting and stewing in your nerves, is there?”
“You’re right.”
Diana walked on Jonah's arm. They stopped next to the Focus circle, Aiko sniffing at the etchings. Rosetta was folding her arms and pouting. Warren stood and dusted himself off, walking around a bit.
“What seems to be the problem?” Diana asked, moving about the failed creations with her foot. The tiger joined its master, pawing a misshapen coat like it was digging at the floor itself.
“Our mental link is a bit troubled,” Warren said with another weary sigh.
“I don’t know these blasted things, there’s a reason I make ruddy chains, not armor,” Rosetta grumbled.
“Why the silverware?” Jonah asked, picking up a fork. Tentatively he fed it into his left arm. “It’s real metal, do the shapes really matter.”
“That was the best one!” the Sorceress cried, hovering up to her feet.
Jonah jumped at the shout.
“Leave him alone,” Warren said, scratching at his face. “They don’t mean shit.”
“We made them…” Rosetta pouted.
“Go on, make one by yerself, it’ll be better than any of them we made together,” Warren said, gesturing to the half consumed furniture behind her.
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Rosetta reached her hand out and parts of a chair came to her palm in a swirling trail of dust. She closed her fingers around it and there sat a perfectly formed fork. She dangled it by the handle, sadly staring at it with her white eyes.
“We made the silverware since the damn gambesons are too complicated,” Warren explained. “I was trying to make her rely on my memories for it. So if she can make forks by my plans, then she should be able to make armor. I’ve made one by hand, so I figured that would help…” He picked up one of the jackets, tugging at the knitted front of it. The stitches started to snap on it as he did. Underneath the outer fabric was shoddy padding, porous and weak. “I gave her memories of its feel and make, but the issues are still there.”
The Sorceress scowled deeply. “It doesn’t help that mah bloody mind is still a minefield,” she lamented, shrinking at the statement.
“That too,” he agreed. “She’s still having problems with guilt and doubt. I’ve kept her from breaking out in screams a few times. The music has actually helped me do that.” He kicked at the Focus circle with his boot. “If only I spent less time fighting and more on transmutation.”
Jonah opened up his screen and started looking through various images at lightning fast speeds. The room was quiet for a moment as Rosetta kept wallowing in her failures. Warren was lost in thought. Aiko had begun playing with the cast offs like a cat might play with a piece of string. Diana had asked it to remove the items from sight or thought, and its great tiger claws were making short and loud work of them. Rosetta glanced at the tiger, smiling smally at its destruction.
“Isn’t your jacket made out of gambeson, Captain?” Diana wondered.
Warren sent away his armor and shrugged off his heavy coat. “It’s magically enchanted, so I don’t want to rip it up, it’ll be hell to repair. Once we make something, I can enchant it just the same, I’m good at that.” He inverted the coat and showed the threaded insides to Rosetta.
The fact that Rosetta was clearly glancing at Warren’s bare arms didn’t escape Diana’s notice, nor his, she figured. The Sorceress felt at the cloth and the bumps made by the threading. It was never her that came up with the method of recreation, that was her brother Iris. In order to make something long lasting and practical, not just a facade, any Sorcerer had to be familiar with the construction of that item. Even Jonah knew that given his late night questions about Rosetta’s powers, which he often accidently called “alchemy.”
“I can’t tell much from that…” Rosetta said, handing the coat back.
Iris wasn’t here to lead the transmutation and while she had plenty of will and magic energy to burn, Rosetta wasn’t about to suddenly learn from feeling. Diana wasn’t sure what to do, besides Warren summoning the Knowledge to show her. Though, he had probably already considered that. Rosetta wasn’t anywhere near stable enough mentally to take a divine channeling. It would most likely end the same way that her mental journey through the children’s minds ended, sore for over a day and five pounds of fat burnt. Diana wondered if maybe Eutace was trained in Focus circle transmutation. Now wouldn’t that be a good excuse for Rosetta to despise the Cleric more, Diana thought.
“Maybe something simpler would be better?” Jonah asked. His Bot hovered down from his shoulder and projected an image on the circle. It was of a blue patterned fabric woven together on a large mechanical loom. “A gambeson has a lot of cotton padding and two layers of fabric… He checked his screen again. “Yeah, about two encasing the padding. This is one layer of threading and it’s something that Warren is wearing too.” He gestured to the Paladin.
Rosetta stared at the moving image of the loom repeating over and over again. She had yet to see much of Jonah’s magic. She gasped as it changed, moving on to the making of the garment.
“Wait a tic, those are denims. Did you get this from an Isle of Ash factory? That looks advanced as shit,” Warren said, getting down to stare at the video as well. “The colorin’ too, it’s so rich and all. I ain’t seen film so crisp.”
“It’s not even that high a quality of video,” Jonah mumbled. “But yeah, jeans, that's what they're called on Earth, are very popular.”
“Why?” the Paladin asked, furrowing his brow. “They’re worker pants, ain’t nothing fancy about them.”
“I have no idea,” Diana said, shaking her head. “Almost everything that we have watched from Earth has people wearing denims. Jonah has been itching to get a pair ever since he woke up from receiving his limbs.”
Jonah frowned, flapping his cotton breeches. “I like jeans, they're sturdy. These feel like dress pants and they're so flimsy,” he remarked.
Warren scoffed. “Well, if we’re trying for jeans, then I got a pair that Rosie can rip up and feel,” he said, turning towards the door.
“Wait, I have all these videos on how to make them,” Jonah called.
“Can't hurt to have both,” Warren said as he left.
“I’ll watch some ‘videos’ too…” Rosetta said with a dreamy look in her eyes. She was squatting next to the circle, staring at the projection. “I haven't gone to the films in a good bit.”
After a few short videos finished, Warren had returned carrying his spare pair of denims. Rosetta, who had watched the clips like a child’s first time at the pictures, took the pants and felt at the hemming of them. With Warren’s blessing she tried to rip them but found she couldn’t. Using a pair of transmuted scissors, she cut into them, mumbling terms that she had learned in Jonah’s videos.
“I could’ve given ya a pair, Jonah,” Warren told him.
Rosetta was holding up the pair by the waist. She set it against Jonah’s front with a chuckle. It wasn’t too far off length wise, but the width was another matter. “He’d never fit in yah horse wide trousers, mate,” she scoffed. “Look at these things!”
Warren took them out of her hands. “Got a good idea?” he asked with a huff.
“Aye, oh aye,” she said, pulling her measuring tape from her pocket. Using her finger, she sent the tape flying around Jonah’s legs. The man raised his arms as the length of plastic flew around him like a snake. He had already gone through the brisk measuring with his upper body. Meanwhile she jotted the numbers down on a pad, which also hovered and wrote on its own.
“A loose fit in the legs, please,” Jonah requested.
“Well aye,” Rosetta mumbled. She went over to a chair and gripped at it with both hands. In a quick tug the matter came off as sand and transmuted into dark blue fabric. She shook the pants off of excess dust and handed them to Jonah. They were much the same plain style as Warren’s black set.
The Traveler looked over the pants with wonder and thanked Rosetta profusely. His old pants were off in a few seconds and he slid on the new jeans. He didn’t seem to care about showing the room his shorts. “Oh shoot, I think I need a belt,” he murmured. “I always liked having a belt, just in case…”
The Sorceress held up the leather object. “Now belts I know well,” she declared.
“I’m sure,” Warren commented.
Jonah ignored all the talk and fit the belt on. He walked proudly about the room in his new jeans. Diana watched him, matching his smile. “They aren’t that loose on you. I quite like the fit in the back,” Diana said, nodding in approval.
Her man flushed at her.
“All those models, it seemed like the point was to show off the rear,” Rosetta said plainly.
“Now you’ll make me a set, won’t you?” Diana wondered.
“I’ll have to measure yah again,” Rosetta said, the tape flying out of her pocket.
“You know my measurements well, Rose. You’ve made my casual clothing many times before,” Diana said pointedly.
The Sorceress smirked, looking over her. “I think yah might have gained an inch or two…” she said, floating in a circle.
Diana scoffed, staring daggers at her long time guardian. “I have not, just make them…”
“All those girl jeans are ruddy tight, like skin tight. Plus, if yah do that thing yah do with trousers, yer gut’s gonna hurt,” Rosetta added with a poke of said area.
“It’s my belly,” Diana snapped, brushing away her hand. “It’s not a gut, it’s water weight. Plenty of women retain weight there.” She held back a scathing insult to the woman.
"Oh aye, that's what mine is too, then," Rosetta said with another smirk.
"Just make them in my measurements, I know you have them memorized," Diana said sharply.
The Sorceress went over to the chair and pulled out a second pair in Diana's size. Diana took them, gesturing for a screen. When the folding paper went shooting up, she went behind it. Bringing up her skirts, she tugged up the trousers. They were far too tight, she realized quickly. They were long enough, so she could set them on her stomach, but they hurt. Within no time she knew they would leave a red mark on her. The hemming was also going to tear if she moved. It wasn't just her hips and stomach, it was her thighs too. She was proud of her legs, she knew they were fuller than most, they were well shaped though. What had happened?
Over the screen Rosetta floated smugly. "Need some 'elp?" she asked.
"Make them fit!" Diana hissed at her. "You made them too small." Aiko rose from its playthings and growled with its master's anger.
Shaking her head, Rosetta dangled the measuring tape. "I didn't, but should we check?" she asked.
"I order you to fix them," Diana said harshly.
"Alright then, just a few wee inches more," Rosetta replied, flying down to her.
It was only a small adjustment. The city life had been too good to her, Diana reasoned. There was a lot of stress and sitting around. A couple weeks at least.
Diana left the screen, padding out to Jonah with her skirt raised. "These are like wearing tight riding breeches," she said. "How do you wear them all day?"
He scratched his head. "I don't know, for some reason girl's jeans are skin tight. Do they hurt? I think some of them are made to be softer…"
Rosetta tapped the princess's garment and they became a much softer cotton, some kind of fabric blend. The change, while appreciated, caused dust to fall off Diana's legs. So she only gave her a somewhat measured thanks for it.
"Well, if only denims were any good at protecting ya," Warren said, examining the clothes.
"It proves the videos help, I mean, somewhat, right?" Jonah asked. It was clear he was trying to justify what might be considered selfish. It had made him smile when before he was pure nerves, so Diana agreed with him.
"Aye, I liked seeing how they were made, it helped mah," Rosetta said, measuring herself. "I hope it makes yah happy I gained more than an inch or two."
"You know it does not," Diana said with a frown. "I only wish for you to be healthy.” She thought to mumble something about being insulted herself, but it wouldn’t help the situation.
Rosetta tugged on a pair of jeans for herself. "Gods, I'm right bloody sausage," she said, yanking them up her legs. The bindings snaked off her legs as she brought them fully to her waist. She grimaced at her retained weight hanging all around the jeans.
"I guess yer a damn tailor now," Warren said.
"How do they look?" Rosetta asked Warren, posing for him. She lifted up her coat and everything to show them off.
"Like yer blessed by a god all over," he remarked.
Her white cheeks turned red as her coat dropped.
"Got any videos of how gambeson is made?" Warren asked Jonah.
"Plenty."
An hour later, several piles of cotton padding were made and Rosetta was sweating and swearing that she was close. She was watching the videos closely, listening to parts and signaling when she needed a rewind. Warren had all but abandoned his Focus circle, standing on it like he wanted to rub it out. A whole chair was nearly gone from Rosetta's efforts. Feeling the wads of cotton, she mumbled at their texture. She tore them apart, comparing their construction to the videos.
Suddenly she took up a fresh chair, lifting it off the floor with magic. It was a sizable recliner, one designed to mimic luxury. She threw it down in an empty space and it collapsed into a layer of sand as it hit the stone. Before the dust could fly up, the sand turned into a giant pad of cotton about an inch thick.
The effort made Rosetta flop back onto her butt, wiping at her brow. She huffed and puffed as Warren looked it over, pressing on it. He nodded approvingly at her.
"This'll do, just gotta cut it to size. You'll have armor in no time, Jonah," the Paladin said.
Jonah's projector turned off as his eyes went dark. "Oh good, I can't wait," he said very quietly, swallowing a lump in his throat.
"I'll have Eutace make up a breastplate and helmet for you, he's probably better at metal," Warren said, lifting up the cotton. "This'll be enchanted too, don't worry."
Mention of the Cleric made Rosetta level out her breathing quickly and she was back on her feet, then the air, as Warren took her creation. "I can make metal too, bring mah one like the Corpine clergy have. I'll make it real quick."
"Alright, I will, don't ya worry." Warren smiled at her. "Don't look so glum there Jonah, I know how to make ya some mighty fine armor with enchantments. Also, if or when it comes to any fighting, Rosie and I have yer back like Diana's."
"I will not leave his side, I told him this," Diana said firmly. "He is a nervous soul though."
"Ya did swell fighting for those children, ya just gotta do it again," Warren said with a shrug.
"All I did was run," Jonah said with a hang of his head.
"Sometimes it's the best thing to do. If worse comes to worse, then ya get behind either of us. Right, Rosie?"
"Aye, Horse." She beckoned at the Machinist. “Come on, show mah videos on breastplate shaping, this Internet must have those too.”
“It does, it does,” Jonah said, bringing up his screen again.
“Shouldn’t ya take a break?” Warren asked, heading towards the dust covered phone in the room.
“There’s no bloody time, we gotta make this armor quick.”