maskormenacelogs | armor up

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armor up

WHO: Darin, Lucina
WHERE: Darin's workshop
WHEN: week of 7/30
WHAT: gotta ready up for apocalypse prevention
WARNINGS: ? probs nah

All is not well, but time does not sit still to wait for things to better themselves. No, instead, all one can do is try to get up as fast and best as they can and keep pace.

But Lucina wishes to do more than that, which means she must be much more prepared for the dangers that may come ahead of them. She can't actually envision anything worse than decimation at the claws of Grima, but the incident in De Chima is still raw and real, and she fears things much worse may come if left unchecked.

She can't handle it alone, she knows...and not equipped as she is. Falchion is a formidable weapon, yes, but its wielder needs some upgrades. It's why she's returned to Darin's workplace, where the rare and beautiful sound of forged steel can still pierce through the ambiance of daily traffic.

She's not aware of any means to alert him of her presence short of approaching and startling him, but...one doesn't really want to catch a man unawares when he's got tongs full of hot, molten steel in transit. Instead, she waits by the entryway, much as she did the first time she discovered this place.

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Darin had taken some time off after the protests, but since he'd pitched the idea of constructing a park, he found himself back at the forge with renewed vigor. The outpouring of support was huge, and with so many people at his back, Darin couldn't hide his eagerness.

There was a bounce in his step as he flitted about his workstation, assembling tool sets for the workers that would need them to start breaking ground on the park. He even threw together tool belts and toolboxes to give to all of the volunteers.

A figure falls into his peripheral as he works and he turns quickly to see who was at his doorstep.

Fortunately, it was a friend. A very welcome friend.

"Lucina! Good to see you! What brings you here today?"

Lucina bows her head politely at his greeting, taking that as queue to approach, her fingers curled tightly around the strap of her purse.

"You seem well, Master Darin," she says, her tone mild, but her expression still neutral. Even in the face of his high spirits, she can't bring herself to good cheer -- not with the grim cloud of bad omens and the weight of the Shimmer still heavy on her mind.

Her eyes flicker past him to the stack of boxes and belts he's built up.

"Have you found yourself apprentices, or is that your plan with all this?"

"I have! Have you met her? Her name's Momo Yaoyorozu and she's pretty much the greatest--"

He stops and follows Lucina's gaze to the equipment behind him.

"Oh those?"

He laughs and walks over to the stacks and pats them warmly.

"No no, these are tool sets for the volunteers. We're building a park here in Nonah, y'see. Something to help improve imPort and civilian relations. I pitched the idea and it got a lot of support surprisingly...but I realize not a lot of people have quality tools. So, I took it upon myself to equip the volunteers!"

He beams warmly at his work. He was making a difference for the first time in his life, and he couldn't be more proud of the work he was doing.

But something about Lucina's countenance seemed...off. He remembered just how excited she was to see the forge the last time she was here. Today she seemed reserved.

"Ah but you're not here to listen to me gush. What's up? You look like you have something on your mind."

"No, it's..." Her eyes wince, feeling a pang of guilt for being so apparently grim if he's going to remark on it. She shakes her head. "It's fine, Darin. We need more people like you -- motivated to move forward and leave better marks. I'm glad to hear it."

She is, truly. But...

"But you're right. There is a matter I need your aid in, if you can support."

Stepping aside, she moves toward his work table and sets her purse down. Then, she pulls an irresponsibly large stack of cash out, setting it down and sliding it in his direction.

"I need another custom job. For myself, this time. I need it war-ready, and fast, if possible. Strong enough to protect against gunfire."

Normally, the shift between pleasantries and business was something Darin paid very little attention to. It was part of the job, really. Small talk leading to business talk leading to a sale or an order or something of that nature.

Something about the urgency in Lucina's tone nagged at him though. Not to mention the amount of cash she was brandishing and the phrase 'war-ready?' Something was happening.

Now, the thing about Darin was that he fancied himself different than the other tradesmen in his world. It's something he learned from his adopted father: 'Anyone can request a weapon, it's up to us to determine whether or not it should be created.' It's a phrase that stuck with him all his life. Without a word, he walks to the side of his workshop and grabs two chairs. He sets one down behind Lucina, then goes to the small fridge he keeps in the corner and grabs a cold can of juice. He returns and tosses it Lucina's way, motioning for her to sit, while he spins his own chair around to straddle it. He folds his arms across the back of it and rests his chin on top, watching her.

"So, what's going on? We may not have known each other long, but I'm pretty sure you're not one to casually toss around the phrase 'war-ready.' What are you wrapped up in?"

She's a little surprised at the sudden offer of refreshments, but not really quick enough to catch on and decline, so she catches the can with a soft sound and head nod of thanks as she sits down as he instructs. She sits straight-backed, knees together, and her expression starting to harden with the seriousness of her cause. She doesn't fear explaining herself, but she's not in the mood to be talked down to again for being young; she can only hope he isn't the sort to do that.

"It's not just me," she says, settling the can on her lap in both hands. "That faction, the OTO, needs to be stopped before their attacks increase in scale and cost. Six hundred people died for their foolish experiment, Darin. It can't happen again. It can't be allowed."

The can in her hands gives a tiny little crinkle as her grip unconsciously tightens. She takes a pause to steady her tone, lest she hop up and start yelling angrily.

"I'm joining Jacob's cause, his...his force. And I'm going to support any effort in hunting these deviants down to stop them from sowing more disaster. If the oracles who rumored the arrival of Atropos are to be believed, then this organization has some interest in drawing her here to wreak havoc -- even destroy the world itself.

"I won't have it. But I need to be better equipped to support these efforts to stop them."

Lucina has Darin's full attention and when OTO is brought up, his green eyes narrow. Oto again. Everything they were doing...all of the pain and the prodding and the death? It all sounded exactly like his methods.

The more Darin ruminates on 'him' the darker his face becomes. It's a stark contrast to the man who was always so outspoken and quick with a laugh. The fact is, the more Darin heard about OTO, the more it made him think of his own personal situation back home.

How long would he be able to successfully keep himself out of these world-defining matters? How long could he remain passive? Lucina said it herself: six hundred people lost their lives. It was a show. A demonstration of power.

"I...know. I know how you feel. Before I came here, I could only watch as a city was wiped off the face of the earth. Its inhabitants slaughtered and the buildings and the bodies all broken down and reforged into a spire of bone and mortar. I know what you're feeling probably better than anyone."

He sighs.

"OTO's motivations...I've encountered something like it before. Getting angry like this? You're playing their game. It's what they want. They want war."

Lucina's eyes narrow. For a moment, she anxiously bit back on the need to interject, to say yes, she knows it, too. She's witness to calamity, too -- not only of a city, but of her whole world, her future. But this isn't about those other times, hers or Darin's -- it's about what's to come. Or...what could come.

So it's surprising that someone with a similar story can speak something that, to her in that moment, sounds contrary to what's right. She can't keep the agitation out of her voice when she replies.

"They can have it, and regret it, then," she says. "But I'll not idle and wait for them to murder more innocents. I want to be part of a proactive effort to stop them now."

Darin holds up his hands in a placating gesture.

"No one wants war. No one with sense, Lucina. And I'm not trying to discourage you from fighting the good fight. Gods know you're a better person than I am...you run towards the fray and I've spent the better part of my twenty four years trying to avoid it. That's what I do what I do."

Darin stands then and puts his chair back.

"I'll make you what you need. Hell, I won't even charge you except for the cost of sourcing the materials. I'm not one to profit off of war. But I have a condition. If OTO is anything like the man I'm thinking of, things don't stop at war. They won't even stop with the world ending. There's more here and any info you get on OTO...?"

Darin steels his jaw. No turning back now.

"I want in."

"Done."

She doesn't even have to stop to think about it. If a skilled smith like Darin is willing to support her and those trying to stop this madness, then their odds are all the better for it. Falchion may be able to pierce a dragon's hide, but it can't stop all catastrophes on its own -- it never has. Marth didn't fight alone, and neither shall she.

It's a mild comfort, despite the harrowing, uncertain circumstances looming in the hazy future.

Still, it is a future; they're not robbed of it yet, and that's enough to give her the drive to fight to secure it.

"You have my thanks, Darin." Her expression softens a bit, relieved for his support. "And any aid I can provide, naturally. None of us can withstand these degenerates alone for long, so all the better we gather resources now."

"Agreed."

Darin rummages around on his desk until he finds a notepad that isn't exactly filled just yet.

"Now, I know you said 'something bullet-proof' but if I'm going to give you the best, I need to know your proficiency. I can infer a lot just by the way you move, but I need to be sure. Now, plate armor seems to heavy for you. With a sword like yours, I'm guessing you rely more on speed than overpowering strength...are you able to use a shield?"

He's already taking notes.

"Oh, and one more thing. No more scary faces, huh? You're entirely too pretty to be scowling all the time. Serious talk is over now. Let's actually enjoy ourselves while we plan this out."

Darin offers her a cocky grin.

She's pleased he's ready to roll right away, because she sure is. Now that he's got the notebook out, Lucina scoots forward so she can set the drink on the table and attend these questions, but before she can even open her mouth to reply, he's--

"Ah--"

Saying silly remarks like that. Gods, Inigo may as well be here to goad him on!

"Don't tell me what to do with my face, and I won't tell you how to do your job," she jabs back, smirking all the same. "And--yes, you're right. Light armor suits me best. I have to be fast, and still light enough to fly. But my current gear leaves me too vulnerable to the weapons of this world; they're liable to cut me at my roots."

Darin scoffs at the 'telling him how to do his job' comment, but doesn't counter. His grin merely widens which, in and of itself, is probably just as infuriating.

"So, we need something light enough for you to maintain your speed but durable enough to stop bullets. I've been tinkering with some things...new materials that weren't available in my world. I think the solution to our problem is layering of strong materials over outright bulk like plate or scale mail."

He begins to jot down a few things, then starts sketching while he makes approving noises to himself.

"What I have in mind...should be light enough, but also durable enough to stop bullets. It won't be a full set, because that will cut down your mobility. Instead, we'll focus on more vital areas. A breastplate and gorget...guards for your forearms and shins...yeah, that could work."

As the set comes together in his mind, Darin quickly starts to sketch out a design. He stops suddenly, and looks up.

"Actually, you said you can fly? What other powers do you have? I might want to take those into consideration."

Edited 2018-08-04 00:19 (UTC)

Lucina nods, encouraged by his train of thought. It sounds almost exactly what she was thinking...just without the mask she'd gotten from Gerome. But who but Gerome would consider that element first and foremost?

"Beyond flying?" She tilts her head slightly. "Beyond flying, my gifts are my speed and strength. And...should I find the right chance to strike, I can drain a foe's defense and strengthen my own. It makes me stronger for a time, as well."

Aether is a strange phenomenon -- not exactly studied magic, but a skill earned through rigorous training...and being Chrom's daughter.

"Huh...that sounds handy. Wonder if I can come up with something that would make those strikes come a little easier. It'd certainly help considering you won't be clad in full mail."

He hums as he continues his sketches.

"Alright, I've got an idea of what I want to do, and I know what materials I'll need. So, for now, I just need to get your measurements and then I can get to work."

"Very well."

Lucina doesn't wait for him to set his sketchbook aside, already on her feet and setting her purse on the chair. She stands, hands on her hips, waiting with just enough patience to not speak up and insist he hurry up. This is his domain, after all, and she's the one imposing.

Still. The prospect of new gear, despite the grim circumstances, is exciting. It might be the side-effect of being Kjelle's older sister -- that girl lives for armor, and hardly spoke of anything else in their downtime. Gods, if she were here, she'd have quite a lot to say on Lucina's behalf...

...And probably get them both kicked out.

Best she's not here to criticize, then.

Darin reaches into a pouch on his belt and pulls out some measuring tape to begin his work. He's glad Lucina is so familiar and eager with the process. This is going to speed things up considerably.

"Alright. I need a couple of different measurements. First, just have your arms hang at your sides. I need to measure them at rest and then raised."

He begins taking measurements, noting things such as where her hands fall in relation to her hips, the length and width of her legs for her shin guards. He even takes into account where she wears falchion and where it rests against her side. He measures across her back, the width and breadth of her shoulders, and even measures to her fingertips, all the while taking very thorough notes.

He's about to start his final measurements, but he stops himself.

"Erm."

He clears his throat.

"Okay, so I have one final measurement. And it's...well."

How to delicately explain this.

"I just want you to know that I'm a professional."

This is not a good way to start.

Lucina, who has been nothing but a standup model for this activity, blinks back at him in confusion. Why is he suddenly muddling up this atmosphere with such awkwardness? It is utterly unclear to her as to what part of armor-making would be considered unprofessional.

"I'm...sorry?" She frowns, folding her arms without thinking. "That wasn't in question until now."

"Good! Good. Because...the next part is not exactly..."

He clears his throat.

"What I mean to say is that it's not. Comfortable. For some people. I'm just trying to preface this with the fact that I've got no ulterior motives here! I'm a professional!"

You'd think that after doing this for years, this part would get easier for him.

"That said. I need to measure you for your new. Um. Breastplate."

He's holding up the tape on both hands like a cat's cradle, prepared to use it to block any strikes or projectiles.

Lucina's eyes narrow. She's not sure whether she should appreciate his hesitation out of politeness or be insulted to assume she's skittish.

His constant repeating of I'm a professional! don't really sway her to pity, instead grating on her patience. She scoffs, reaching out and snatching the tape measure from his hands.

"Gods, if you can't be as you say, I'll do it myself!"

"Hey hey hey! I can do it!"

Darin snatches back at the tape.

"I'm trying to be considerate here! It's a sensitive topic and we haven't known each other long! I've been doing this for a;most fifteen years!"

Still, he can't hide the dusting of scarlet tinting his cheeks.

"Alright, arms up and stop being so damn cranky!"

Of all the nerve...!

Scowling, Lucina quickly swipes and yanks at a length of tape in her reach, tugging back on it.

"Regardless of your intent, your execution of your concerns doesn't suit fifteen years of experience!" she counters. "It seems you've had far too few female clients, otherwise there'd be no need to even assume foul play." Yank. "Give it here and I'll take care of it."

"Are you actually challenging my skills as a blacksmith?? Is that what we're doing? The guy who forged two masterwork swords for your cousin and then forged an entirely new set of armor of his own creation just to propagate an over the top legend for fun?!"

Oh no no no, he's not letting up on that tape so easily. He's yanking back because dammit he will not give in so easily.

"You've sure as hell got some stones coming in here asking for premium gear and then questioning my courtesy to the opposite gender! Who cares if I don't have an extensive female clientele! I'm gonna make you armor so damn good I'll have women lining up at the door to be measured! Now gimme my damn tape!" YANK "Cuz I'm gonna measure the crap outta you!"

"Listen to you!" Incredulous, but far too stubborn to back down, Lucina yanks back. This poor tape measure, had it any voice at all, would be screaming under the strain. "You're the one claiming this foolishness of yours shadows your crafting skills, not me! I simply expect more respect as a client than to be treated--" Tug. "As a silly, simpering--" Tug. "Court lady!"

Rather than tug again, she twists, turning her back to him and aiming an elbow at his solar plexus. The hope is that such a sudden, startling blow will stagger him forward: she expects as much, which is why she also ducks forward, hoping to flip him over backward in this...extremely extra ploy for tape measure dominance.

You know, when Darin woke up today, 'wrestling a warrior princess from an apocalyptic future' was not on his to-do list. He certainly wasn't expecting a simple moment of courtesy to be met with such indignant fury.

As he sailed over Lucina due to a perfectly executed grip n'flip, Darin had a few seconds to question his life and all of his most recent choices. Starting exclusively with 'Why do I do things?' He doesn't get much farther with that particular line of thought since time moves at normal speed and he just slammed onto the floor flat on his back, air rushing out of his lungs in one loud plume of very creative swearing.

And yet, he's still holding onto that damn tape, which by now, has been wrapped around his forearm like a lifeline.

He coughs as he gasps for air, but continues to choke on that damn pride of his.

"S-Seriously...ghk...why do I always get stuck with the angry ones...?"

Maybe not the best way to smooth over this situation but he's beyond the point of civility.

"Now...you gonna let me measure your bust or do I have to really get kahk serious...?"

Because clearly he's in a position to act cocky.

Angry? This man hasn't seen angry on Lucina, no sir! This may as well be just...tactical communication in her book; where standard dialogue fails, the language of combat prevails! One learns much about a person in a spar, after all.

...Or pinned on the floor, partly bound by their own measuring instruments.

Victoriously perched atop him, Lucina tsks and gives her length of tape a tug.

"Absolutely not," she replies. "You've given me no assurances of your abilities to not make things weird at this point, and so I shall do it myself."

But a thought strikes, and she thinks it's very brilliant, and speaks of it as such:

"Or I measure you first! It's fair and even."

And completely pointless, except that it has a point to her. It's Equality.

Okay, either Darin was hearing things, or being thrown onto the floor in such a fashion knocked some of his brains loose. Either option is perfectly valid at this point, so he just stares up at Lucina like she has three heads.

Nevermind the incredibly compromising position they both seem to be in, now she's saying something about measuring him?

She couldn't possibly mean it the way he initially thinks she means. Then again, she seemed to take offense to the fact that he wasn't exactly champing at the bit to measure her bust.

He shakes his head emphatically to realign some of the screws that have most definitely come loose.

... ... ...

Nope. Nope, Darin's most definitely lost control of his life somewhere.

"...You really think you've got what it takes to so casually measure me?"

Well. Deep end it is, then.

You know who's just come along to visit Darin? Archie. He's just walking into the forge with Mightyena trotting along next to him as it usually is when he stops, listening. Is that... shouting? What in the hell-- he frowns down at his Pokémon for a moment, concerned that perhaps a native is giving Darin trouble again.

He busts in seeing...

...Something he really wishes he hadn't.

"Use Take Down on him!" he shouts, not really... thinking about what he's doing. Mightyena, despite it's better judgment, decides to oblige; charging forward to headbutt Darin incredibly hard.

She's in the middle of snapping back when Archie's voice cuts through. Like so:

"You're in no position to-- Eh-?!"

Suddenly dog. Lucina yelps, springing to her feet and hopping backward into the work table as Darin's last remaining braincells get obliterated by Mightyena's incoming attack.

"What on earth-?!"

"Arch! Could you give me a hand he--"

That's about all Darin manages to get out before a large dog bashes his skull in. Darin rockets across the floor like an air hockey puck and slams into the far wall, then bounds off and rolls a few times before he's face down, flat on his face.

What in the hell just happened?!

There's no sound coming from his crumpled frame. Maybe he's unconscious. Maybe he's dead. His spirit sure is. What is it with Pokémon constantly attacking him? He's going to put that on his list of rhetorical questions right under the question about having to deal with so many cranky women.

It's been about a solid minute since Darin's body came to rest in its current heap and finally he lets out an aggravated groan. Looks like he's still alive, everyone.

He slides one arm under his frame and pushes himself up until he's leaning on both elbows. He looks in Archie's vague direction because he has a mild concussion.

"Do you have scurvy or something?! Why would you send Mightyena to attack the person being attacked?!"

"That's not how scurvy wor-- what the hell are you two doing?!" He yells, holding out Mightyena's ball to return it.

"It looked like you were tryin' to strangle each other! Shit! I can't even imagine--"

He stops, pressing a hand to his face.

"Why?!"

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