#polaris ☄ 001

[ageofkarme]

His recent trip home had him defying expectations all over the place, but Polaris was right. Fighting for the approval of people who'd never give it would only lead to his ruin. It wasn't enough for Karme to say he was done fighting to improve his standing within his house, he had to live that truth too. He'd leave Genovia, feeling proud about what he'd done and what he planned to do next. He'd do it on his own regardless, but having Polaris there to encourage him and reaffirm a few of his ideas helped.   The sculptor had a quiet dignity about him, a regalness that managed to capture the attention of Karme's scatterbrain. He liked hearing Polaris talk, and he liked talking to Polaris as well. He didn't feel like he had to mask anything or watch his tongue, and when he accidentally went off on his tangents Polaris never once made him feel bad. Being himself with the other never came with any guilt or shame, and when he did need to be reigned in Polaris managed to before Karme realized that's what he was doing. He was an endlessly fascinating man, one Karme found himself drowning in the gaze of once Polaris reinstated their eye contact. He wanted to learn everything about him, he wanted to feel the tendrils of shadows caressing his hectic mind, he wanted to keep pressing those talented hands against his skin. Karme enjoyed him.   He liked Polaris so much that he'd let himself get engrossed in the moment again. He forgot he was supposed to be packing! "I'll finish, I'll finish!" Karme promised as he began scampering about, keeping his head down and his back turned to Polaris as much as possible. He's not used to letting his brain slow down enough for another to crawl their way in, but the way he blushed said it all. Polaris was under his skin. "People tell me all the time that I talk too much. I can talk anyone's ear off, it's a gift," he says, beaming with a little extra pep in his step now as he moved his stuff to the Athena's Hand. The tone people usually took wasn't nearly as nice, and no one said they liked hearing Karme's rambling either. Polaris just had a way about him that had Karme feeling good about himself, so hearing Polaris admit he liked something that Karme was told by just about everyone else he'd have to change made him happy. A part of him wanted to intentionally delay the move so he could keep Polaris in his workshop longer, but he also figured the bard was a man of his word. If he said they wouldn't go anywhere together before Karme finished packing he probably meant it. "So does that mean you don't mind hearing about my latest death scythe modifications while we pack? Because I've been thinking about this for a while. Imagine a death scythe with many blades but also has a snack compartment. Hear me out, everyone needs to eat right?"   Karme could be open because Polaris was willing to give him space to be. Sure he got distracted a few times when he stumbled upon another half completed creation or some spare part that gave him inspiration, but he continued to pack and talk with Polaris about everything that popped into his head. Happily so too.

END

"I can imagine." The scene was comical when he brought it to mind, perhaps the next time he found himself on Genovia he'd ask about it. There was a growing question about why he'd been commissioned and an increasing weariness - if he was involved in some plot to humiliate Karme, Polaris would prefer to not partake. Particularly if the plot involved his art in any way. On the subject of their metaphorical landmines, such were the growing pains of understanding. Polaris could, at times, cut deep, but his questions were derived from a purpose. Though hurting Karme was not his intention.

"I'm patient." It was an attribute of not only his profession but a matter of his existence. Years and longevity muddled with the old elvhen mentality that things were best taken in time. Though he held their form, Polaris would never count himself among them. As Karme averted the dragon's gaze, he pursued it, craning his neck as he met the witch's eyes again. "I'll consider it a privilege. Just try to get some sleep beforehand, can't have you falling asleep in the middle of the show." Polaris absolved Karme of the prolonged eye contact with a final, affectionate brush of his thumb before he turned to the matter at hand: the great mess that was Karme's organized chaos.

"But, we won't get to go anywhere if you don't finish packing before then." Less of a threat and more of a public reminder to both himself and Karme that if they didn't start attempting to be productive then they were just going to stand here forever - with Polaris staring at him. "Has anyone ever told you that you talk a lot?" He took to stacking a few items, placing them in a nearby box before lifting it into his arms. "I like it." Karme didn't leave room for silence, there were moments when Polaris stood in rooms packed wall to wall with spoiled sycophants, each more indulgent than the last. One pariah on top of another all hanging on the bard's words - it was in these moments that he felt completely solitary.

[ageofkarme]

"Oh yeah, you should've seen everyone's faces when I insisted she meet me in the throne room, and then their faces again when I walked out without a punishment! No one had any idea what was going on, including me!" Though, Karme could speculate based off of the odd conversation they had. He may not have been a Warrior of Mars, but he was more like his mom than he even knew. That provided him comfort and the assurance that he was on the right track. True, he was a late bloomer, but Karme was finally setting out on his own and he was ready to do so without looking back.   That thing he did, where he hid his feelings behind a wide grin, apparently didn't fly. It's not like he wanted to hide things from Polaris, it was just a force of habit. Though Karme wasn't quite ready to talk about it openly yet. "It's okay. Maybe one day I can tell you about it. I know you were just trying to help." Karme knew he sometimes missed social cues, but he liked to think he had a good sense for when someone was intentionally trying to cut him down. It was easy to forgive Polaris because he didn't feel the bard was one of those. "It's just like before when I … slipped up," Karme continued, being cautious about bringing up Polaris' reaction to his now decommissioned magic infuser tool. "We don't know each other well so we keep stepping on these landmines. So yeah, it'll probably be good for both of us to hangout more before you carve me out."   Karme tried to be subtle about his request, especially since he didn’t pick up on the hint Polaris dropped about The Comedy Keep. Polaris holding his cheek and staring into his eyes grabbed Karme's attention, and without having to imagine the desert in his mind his brain short-circuited in that moment, releasing all his scattered thoughts. This was good because even then, with Polaris being more direct, Karme only stared blankly at him until his features started to flush. "Your … oh I um, no it's fine! Up in a private box I probably won't be noticed. And besides it's just the stand up comedians but it's not their fault like I get it and I'm always a good sport. If they're putting on a show that'll be the show! I won't be involved at all. What did you say it was? Homeo & Julian? I've never seen that one we can go. Especially if it's a business thing for you, I wouldn't want to get in the way of a potential investment. I think that having a private box with your name on it will definitely definitely get your name out there more and then you get to do that and we can still do other stuff in the city too. I guess I'll be living there now so it'll be good for me. Usually on a Saturday I'm either a few days into a tinkering binge or sleeping after a tinkering binge so having plans will be good! With you … plans … I uh…" Feeling his flesh heat up beneath Polaris' stroking, Karme was the first to break the intense eye contact and look off to the side, though he didn't attempt to pull his face away from the elvhen's palm despite his embarrassment.

"Walking away from the conversation with your head still attached to your shoulders must have been a feat in itself." Polaris had a good relationship with Lady Juliana, though the bard was in good standing with most if not all, court members. There was something to be said about hiding in plain sight and given the appearance of the Aetherians this past year, ingratiating himself into politics, customs, influence, and protection had become a matter of life and death. In many ways Polaris envied Karme, he lived without the burden of the past. Around every corner was another threat, another memory, and more teeth to go along with it.

Being observant came with the territory, in part a skill picked up through his trade and practiced regularly and a measure of survival learned the hard way. "I struck a nerve." Polaris pointed out, not one to mince words or dance around the subject. "That wasn't my intention." Came his follow-up, tearing down Karme had all the appeal of brutalizing something innocent. The faltering smile that stretched uncomfortably wide chipped at him and, because he couldn't help himself, Polaris pressed a bit. He could see how this witch would find himself ostracized, picked on, and shunted to the outskirts of family and society but there was more there. Below the weak, eroding veneer caking Karme's surface was steel.

In the hope of providing a measure of comfort, Polaris extended a hand toward Karme's cheek and let it rest there for a time, the rough pad of his thumb stroking the apple as he gazed with sincere intensity. "I've no interest in spending my time with those who'd degrade my muse." It begged a different question, "I'll just have to figure out somewhere else to take you on Saturday." Within Eterna, Polaris had no intention of climbing into Karme's flying machine just yet.

[ageofkarme]

Karme did, in fact, inform not ask Lady Juliana about his plans of Ioannina, though he just about pissed his pants as he did. Polaris didn't need to hear that part though. "Well, she didn't kill me but she also didn't say no? So that's something. But that also means that I better have earned it when I return to Genovia to claim it..." Now Karme was starting to get pale as his stomach churned. Their conversation was still fresh in his mind and despite all the growth he'd undergone, he'd always crave Lady Juliana's approval.

But I don't need it. That's right, he reminded himself and his nerves began to settle. What's done is done, so all Karme had to do was keep looking ahead. "Trust me Polaris. I know that," he responded rather somberly. As his nerves heightened, Karme's smile got wider and tighter, but at the mention of burning up, he looked quite sad. It was brief and his smile returned, but the tone of the conversation temporarily hit too close to home. "I'm taking it slow and being careful, I promise. I'm a far way off from the witch I want to be. But that's why I'm excited about finally being in Vulcan's Vessel! My pouch still has the leftovers from my last Slayer mission, so I've got plenty of cool stuff to make. Worrying about that will probably keep me busy for a while."

He fidgets bashfully when Polaris teases him about being a genius. Karme usually tried to be more careful with his words, but something about Polaris made him feel like he could be open without shame. It was just a part of his job as an artist to dive deep into his subjects, but still Karme liked how Polaris didn't seem to mind what he saw the deeper he dug. "Um, I might not be the best to ask about The Comedy Keep. Every time I go on a standup night, the comedians have something to say about my mouth. Only my friends can call me 'trouty mouth'!" Karme didn't know much about business, but people seemed to like the club so he didn't want his personal feelings get in the way of advice. "If you want to buy the box permanently, then do it! A purchase like that will make you very popular I'm sure. Many influential nobles I know have one exclusively for their use. It's kinda like a status symbol."

"You told her," the Slayer continued to amaze. Naturally, Polaris had crossed paths with Lady Juliana several times over: brilliant and wealthy with zero tolerance for nonsense. The image of Karme standing in front of her with his flickering balls and making demands felt like the punchline after a very long setup. Polaris laughed, smiling with some measure of amusement, "And how did she take that?" Polaris had to wonder if Karme was packing up his workshop now by choice or if he'd been given the boot.

A fire-based technique that transformed the room into a forge was interesting, but it was beyond what the witches of this age could manage. The notion to attempt was inspired but Polaris couldn't help but wonder where it had come from. "Don't go burning yourself out trying to prove something to everyone else; in my experience, people are never worth the effort. What was it you called yourself again..." Polaris questioned momentarily, playing aloof. "Right, genius."

Rare were creations born from materials grateful to their creators, but Polaris would place his cynicism to the side instead of allowing Karme his break at optimism. The witch simultaneously thought ten steps ahead while skipping over several in the process. Perhaps it was possible for maker and made to be... friends as Karme had put it, but a great deal of hope was being placed in the freedom of choice. Apart from Polaris, it appeared as though Karme stood here alone.

"I'd prefer it if you did." They were a point of interest to him and perhaps there was room in what Polaris would create for others as well, but that remained to be seen. "But before that... I'll need your opinion on something. A business venture. It requires a bit of research though. Homeo & Julian is showing at The Comedy Keep, I have a box for Saturday's performance. Curtain's up an hour after dark."

[ageofkarme]

Karme couldn't decide if he was just too used to going at things alone or if Polaris really was more generous than most people, but he found the elvhen's helpfulness to be as warm as his eyes. He didn't feel like he had to mask his excited compulsions or apologize for going on his tangents. Karme felt at ease, at least enough to be himself. And that's what Polaris wanted, wasn't it? He had to remind himself that all of this was for the sculpture, or else his heart might've actually leaped out of his throat.

"Th-that's why I've been struggling with my new technique! Or probably. I might not have been breathing right, which I'd need to since it's supposed to be a fire-based thing, turning a room into a forge…" He'd done it on Vlad's command so now Karme wanted to learn how to on his own, however now wouldn't be the time for this particular breakthrough. With his back pressing into Polaris' front as the bard's hand folds around his body to press against his abdomen, Karme realized he was getting even less oxygen now.

He did try to listen and pull air into his depths, imagining the oxygen reaching far inside of him to the point where Polaris touched, but it took him a few tries to get it right, with him becoming slightly flustered. In the end, Karme let out a sigh of relief when Polaris began fondling his balls, feeling how they hummed to life upon contact. "I get that, I only felt at home in our house's vacation estate. I wasn't raised there, but I want it to be my home one day. I asked … well, actually, I told Lady Juliana she'd give it to me when I proved myself. It was so scary!" he rambled a bit, feeling nervous at Polaris inspecting the pair of cores. No one had gotten this close to the dangly balls yet even though they lit up and warmed between his fingers. Karme could hear them in his mind now, appreciating the calm Polaris brought with him. "I know they could get hacked or even commanded with a spell, but that's why I think I want to change my battle style. I want them to feel like my friends, not my servants. So if we have to go into combat we'll do so together. Sure they'll need to protect me, but I won't abandon them. Hopefully we'll come to trust each other enough so they remember I’m their friend even if the worst happens," Karme says, feeling a bit embarrassed at confessing he literally made his latest friends. "They're going to look very cool! This one is hard and serious, so I want to create a body that captures that essence. This one spews a lot and it more whimsical, so I'll probably be a little more creative with his. They're still finding their voices, but I can understand them well enough as is. I can't wait for you to meet them. Can I bring them to your studio?"

The vast majority of nobles who commissioned Polaris shared the sort of vanity that could make any dragon pull his eyes out. Karme was a rare exception that managed to escape any grating notion, while he certainly babbled, there was an earnest and endearing selflessness that Polaris had not yet mapped. He could capture in stone the kindness of a person's eyes and the slope of their nose, but the witch's essence still slipped between his hands. For now, he'd continue to observe and probe, surprising even himself with how much he was enjoying the conversation.

Moved to stand beside Karme as he wove, Polaris counted and eyed the threads of air and earth that the witch wove together to form the weave to make the cargo more manageable. "Clever use of threads," Polaris complimented, though he eyed Karme just as closely, "but you're holding your breath when you channel." An idle observation he'd made from the few demonstrations that Karme had made. "It's a mistake, when we stop breathing we stop thinking." Polaris placed a hand just below Karme's diaphragm, "This deep," he prompted, "into your core." Since Karme was so fond of them.

Ankhuria might have been home once upon a time, but it had been ages since the world had allowed Polaris to think of it as much. "Perhaps I misspoke," Polaris's hand moved from Karme's abdomen to his neck, there he rolled the calloused pad of his thumbs against two of Karme's balls, turning them across his palm. "Home isn't a place, but a feeling. It's been so long since I saw Ankhuria with my own eyes that I don't think I'd recognize it anymore." He continued with the gentle fondling, committing the feel of each curve to memory, though he didn't release them and instead kept them well within his grasp. "Sentience is a feat in itself, let's hope they don't decide to turn against you." Polaris was speaking from experience but he didn't acquiesce as much, "I imagine you've put a good deal of thought toward their appearance."

[ageofkarme]

Elvhen weaves seemed to operate within their own laws and boundaries, so Karme naturally geeked out whenever he saw one use magic. It was probably so minor and insignificant for Polaris to use his shadows to move objects around, but Karme was buzzing to grill him on the ins and outs of his magical limits. The calm in his brain was already giving way to curiosity, though he managed to curb it, at least for now. Maybe, if he stayed still for the sculpting, Polaris would be more forthcoming with the  details about himself that Karme wanted to know.   "Ten people just about, I'm not sure how much weight that is though. I flew my fellow Slayers around while a drake was wrapped around her, but considering how much fuel I burned through, that was probably pushing it…" However, packing things away with any consideration for organization or weight distribution didn't cross Karme's mind because to him, those were just pecky details that got in the way. "It'll work out fine, don't forget I'm one of the most innovative witch's  you'll meet. Constraints are nothing more than puzzles to solve, and I love solving puzzles. Check it," he says as he pulls threads of magic to his hand, directing them to swirl out from his extended arm to the cargo loaded into his ship. Karme was eager to show off for Polaris, partially because he still held out hope that the sculptor may change his mind about the death scythe. Mostly though, he wanted Polaris to see him as cool too which is why he grinned as his spellweave reduced the size of his stuff that had been placed within the ship.   The quiet desert of his mind was drifting away, though the warm sun he imagined shined through in his smile. Using his magic was everything to him, and Karme was finally in a place where he would actively seek opportunities in the world instead of hiding away in his shop. This transition would be a good thing in the end. "That's just one of the techniques I used to make these cores. If they seem alive, it's because they are! Genuine sentience, crafted out of layers of enchantments and contained within rare materials. One can even weave spells just like a witch. After I build them bodies they'll be my new friends, almost like brothers with how deeply they're attuning to me. Isn't that so cool Polaris?" Karme said excitedly as he stroked the warm balls tenderly. Filled with the vital essence of life, they had been observing and learning since Beastbanes directed Karme through making them. He'd honor all that he and the other Slayers accomplished by constructing the best bodies to house his cores. "I'm not very brave and my body is a little weaker than most other witches, but I trust my ability to create. With two brothers to look after me like you suggested, maybe I could go out into the field more. So … if you ever wanted to take a quick trip home to see the sands for real, I could fly you. The Athena's Hand can make that trip easy, and it sounds like it could be a fun time."

Just toss it in the ship. What a disorganized nightmare but Polaris had already offered to lend a hand, if only for his own benefit. "How much can that ship carry?" With an inflection of his magic, a spark blazed briefly over dilated pupils before tendrils reached from the shadows, extending a dark, inky influence, and began to sift through the piles - moving things onto the ship as Karme requested. Polaris's only hope was that the vessel would still lift off after everything was loaded into it, otherwise the witch would be loading it and all its contents onto a freight.

Wherever Karme ended up would be an asset to the organization that took him in; the witch was an Olympian. Polaris understood his weariness, he'd hammered it in enough so far and abstained from revisiting the topic of morality and academic responsibility. There was very little that magic could not accomplish when dedicated heads put the full weight of their minds to it - he and the cataclysm were proof of the unintended outcomes. Success and ambition require trial and error but the greater the reward, the higher the risk.

Patient eyes watched the lightness to Karme's features and felt the tension ease under his fingertips. The sound of his heartbeat grew more steady and his breathing fell from erratic to something more intentional. Polaris couldn't help but wonder in which state the witch was happier. He watched the subtle parting of Karme's lips, listened once again to his steady breathing, and other thoughts stirred. A peach against the tarmac of his tongue, ripened juice pouring from the edges of his lips, and a spread carved with intention.

"Good, then you'll have no trouble keeping still while I carve you." Karme's statue, obviously. Polaris considered abstaining from providing any true response but he reconciled the answer by reminding himself that there was no harm in telling the other some of the truth. "Home. Ankhuria." Came the simple response before he moved his finger across the balls on Karme's neck. "What are these for?" Intricate and unique, Polaris could guess but he enjoyed the way the artificer practically vibrated when asked about his work.

[ageofkarme]

Growing up around bonafide geniuses meant the value of failure and effort was underappreciated by those who raised him. That's why Karme's heart leapt to action within his chest, he resonated so much with Polaris' words they sounded like something he would say. He knew he liked Polaris already, but at that moment, Karme started to admire him as well, his eyes practically lighting up as a result. This was a person who knew how to work and try and persevere through set backs until they reached a goal. Karme wanted to do the same and felt inspired just from the other's presence.   "I will get there, and I'm okay not rushing it either. One day, I will be the witch I've always wanted to be, and when I am I'll have one of Lysara's greatest inventions tacked onto my name. Forever!" he said, notably more energized. If Polaris wasn't there helping him pack, Karme likely would've spent another two days riding this high while tinkering until his next collapse. "Um, just toss it into the ship! I would probably end up giving everything legs so that my parts and boxes can walk themselves since I’m not very strong. But hey with you here I might not have to. Don't worry about keeping everything in their piles, I have my system memorized so it won't be any trouble getting everything back together in my new spot. Vulcan's Vessel is going to be a good thing for me but also it might not be that good? I'm staying positive and soon I'll—"   It was common for Karme to get continuously more amped once he found something to get worked up over. Polaris fed into his energy in a positive way, but his presence also tied Karme's tongue enough to get him to stop speaking and listen, at least for a moment. He was still beneath the gentle touches and general aura of warmth, which meant he was brimming with excess energy threatening to spill out. Tightly wound and on the edge of release, he grabbed his orbs and felt them quell. It seemed that whatever previous mood Polaris was in was forgiven, because Karme's rapidly beating heart slowed with the languid pace of the elvhen's voice. Rest, yeah rest was important. He could try to get some, or maybe he really did need to have these new cores around his neck help him with that…   Once again however, Polaris spoke in a way that drew Karme's attention in before his thoughts could spiral. There was a slight huff as he scrunched his eyes closed, but he relaxed into the darkness, making him keenly aware of each spoken word and gentle touch against his skin. The picture Polaris painted with his tongue became clear to Karme's senses the more he spoke. He could feel the sun on his skin, taste the amber on his tongue, and smell hints of spice as if standing in the vast desert Polaris described. His lips parted slightly just to take it all in. Was this magic or was this Polaris? Karme honestly couldn't tell but he felt himself lean forward slightly just to see if he could get more. In his mind's eye, he could see himself setting his girdle, apron, and goggles aside. He could feel the sand between his toes after removing his boots. He could really take in all the sun's warmth after laying back and opening his robe to expose his body just like Eldar probably would for a hot date. "I can feel it. All of it surging through me," he mutters, tension he didn’t even realize he had blowing away like sand in the wind. When Karme opens his eyes, he has to clutch onto Polaris' sleeve to steady himself he felt so light. "It's … quiet. I swear I can hear the wind. But no, I guess that wasn't boring. What is that place? A few hours thinking of it may keep me still, you describe it so beautifully."

Dragons didn't build, they hoarded or they destroyed. That was the common ethos, but he'd known paladins, philosophers, magi, and architects who counted themselves among his kind. Still, while one mother encouraged his more romantic notions another thought less of them. "I wasn't born the best," Polaris acquiesced, for a brief moment he remembered the elvhen of his class when he was still young and called Avalon home. Among the crowd there were those who were naturally talented, geniuses distilled from genius bloodline but talent only took a person so far, "but I worked harder than everyone else."

Brief but pointed, Polaris conceded another compliment. "You'll get there." So long as the witch kept working and didn't die of sleep deprivation before then. The short, mortal life didn't help matters - but that only meant Karme would have to work that much harder. "In the meantime I can lend a hand packing the... necessities."

Polaris leaned in ever so slightly, his presence warm as the desert sands. His gaze lingered on the artificer, catching the way his thoughts seemed to chase themselves in circles, each one burning with its own peculiar intensity. Polaris’s hand moved with deliberate care, brushing against Karme’s temple as light as a whisper.

"You should get some rest, working until your body breaks down is no way to run a system." Polaris glanced down at one of the humming orbs, "Maybe create something to remind you of that." He cleared his throat, “Now, close your eyes,” he said softly, his voice smooth and unhurried, laced with an almost hypnotic calm. His fingers trailed down, skimming briefly along the line of Karme’s cheek before retreating. “Listen to my voice,” Polaris continued, his tone dropping into a soothing, melodic cadence. “Follow it. Let me describe something for you.”

Polaris conjured an image from his memory, Ankhuria with nothing but sands and dunes for miles. Fixed upon a sea with waters so blue they might have been kissed twice by the sky. "Notes of amber, rich and warm, like the sun caught in the resin of a long-forgotten tree." It permeated off of Polaris with his cologne and beneath it, the rawness of the dragon's scales-made-flesh. "a touch of smoke, faint but undeniable. A trace of spice. Subtle, but sharp."

Polaris took a breath in, breathing deep before he exhaled from the bottom of his chest. Hands in the dunes intertwined, fingers splaying together as Polaris sighed in time, breathing out for a second time. "You smell... Familiar. Comforting. Like bruised leather or a wood stove." He held the image in the other's mind, space limited to whatever Polaris's breath allowed. "In the sand, take off your girdle. Lay down your apron, shuck off your boots, and abandon your goggles." He let his magic be the other's guide, his voice Karme's anchor. "The warm sand on your back, your skin; the dry air off the dunes against your cheek. The sun, a ball of heat and light overhead." It made him miss home, but he hoped it helped Karme slow down.

"Still bored?"

[ageofkarme]

Growing up, praise was something Karme got used to being without. He found other ways to keep going and tinkering, but that didn't change the fact that he wanted to be told he'd done a good job by other people. Polaris wasn't giving much, but what little he offered was cherished. Why? Because Karme's gut feeling told him that his last name, noble heritage, or the fact that he was being paid a small fortune to be here had nothing to do with Polaris' compliments. He saw value in Karme's mind, as scatterbrained it may be, and that was something the witch could appreciate.   "I'm not foolish. I know it's not as simple as saying "I want to make things" and suddenly everything is better. It'll take a lot of work, but that's exciting to me! One day, the whole queendom will know my name because I'll finally make something no one else can. In the meantime, I'll keep practicing with my spare parts and greasy gears in my workshop. I'm finally okay with failing forward. Didn't you mess up a lot before you became a master?" For the first time in his life, nothing was forcing Karme's optimism. He had unburdened a lot recently at the Chrysanthos ancestral castle, and now he was looking entirely toward the future. "Since becoming an Olympian, all I've done is tinker away at my family's vacation estate. I'm packing because I'm leaving Genovia, at least for a while. I'm going to Vulcan's Vessel to set up shop and lend my mind to the Tower. No support, no more allowance or golden flowers in my robes, I'll just be Karme. Except … I think it's been a couple days since I started packing. I'm not sure, I always lose track of time when I'm with my things."   It had been a while since Karme last slept. He was at two days of no sleep when he started this cycle of packing then forgetting he was packing, so by the amount he was blinking it was safe to say he was at four or five now. Wouldn't be much longer before one of these piles became his bed for a bit. "When I need to sleep, my body collapses and I get some. But there's too much to do to sleep every day, I don't know how people do it!" he says with a grin. Maybe he'd be a bit sturdier if he took care of himself better, but sometimes everything else seemed less important than building a new tool. His imagination was too vast for a twenty-four hour day. "I'm just surprised a cousin sent you. I assumed you'd be talentless when you told me, but you seem like a guy who knows his stuff. I'm gonna have the best sculpture ever and it'll be of me!"   Karme had genuine excitement for the end product, so much so that he got distracted while thinking about it and didn't realize Polaris was so close until he turned to face the elvhen again. "Honestly? No. I mean, your trick earlier helped. When you were in my ear and I started picturing the sculpture, I didn't think about anything else. But other than that, I always think about five different things at once. Like right now, I don't even remember all that I have stored in my girdle but I’m trying to, and I want to modify my ship, and you smell really good, but do I smell even decent? Oh and I've still got to repair my other Sisters and—" Flushed again, Karme at least allowed himself to get drawn into Polaris' eyes and not look away. "Even if I'm in a battle, I'll still follow inspiration and start tweaking my tools. I don't really know what a quiet mind sounds like. Must be boring."

While Karme worked, Polaris's gaze lingered on the artificer’s hands. The quick, precise movements of his fingers - the way they danced - coaxed brilliance from the mundane, like drawing fire from stone. He shaped the unshapable and bent the wildness of the world to his will in a way that echoed the hunger in the dragon’s heart. This creature, so small, so breakable, yet infinite in his craft, contained entire worlds between his palms. The tools he wielded seemed to hum with life, singing a song of creation that Polaris admittedly found interesting.

“A noble pursuit,” Polaris murmured, though the words tasted bittersweet. Creation has always carried a cost. The Aetherians had sought perfection, building a world that demanded the destruction of another. Those ashes still clung to the edges of his tongue, acrid and unrelenting. Memories had teeth sharper than any dragon’s. But Karme - Karme came as a cleansing balm, a spark of purity in the ruins of Polaris’s recollection. He’d expected some spoiled, entitled brat, but instead, this strange and vibrant artificer stirred something dormant.

“Packing? For why?” Polaris asked, his voice low, the question less about practicality and more a way to keep Karme’s attention. His gaze drifted across the cluttered workspace, alive with half-finished wonders. Considering Karme’s frenetic energy, it would take a lifetime to pack it all away. “Something tells me you don’t spend a great deal of time sleeping,” Polaris added, his tone both teasing and contemplative. The livewire artificer practically buzzed, as if sleep would only dull the sharp edges of his brilliance.

“I’ve yet to disappoint,” Polaris said, almost to himself, though the words were meant for Karme. The challenge of understanding him - of capturing his essence - it fed Polaris’s idle appetite. A dragon’s hunger was eternal, but this was different. He wanted not to devour Karme, but to take him in, to cradle that essence and give it the sort of life that blurred the boundaries between statue and man. That was the service Polaris provided. Even Karme’s imperfections - the smudges of soot, the sparks of distraction - would make for an enticing piece.

“Sleep deprivation aside,” Polaris mused, leaning closer, his voice as tender as a dragon could permit, “is there anything else that quiets your mind?"

[ageofkarme]

Karme could talk about his trip and his boys, but he knew he couldn't talk about the box with Polaris even though he wanted to. He had some self-awareness and knew that socializing wasn't always his strong point, but this was his workshop, and Karme at least felt he should be himself without shame here. That's what Polaris got, and in return, Karme didn't get a hint of judgment or ridicule. He talked and talked and talked, and Polaris listened, at least enough so that Karme didn't feel bad about himself. That's why he was visibly relieved to hear Polaris hadn't been mad at him, though he had to wonder if it wasn't anger then what had the elvhen been feeling before? It was rare for the witch to be curious about a stranger and internally he did try to mitigate his impulses, so by the time they won out and Karme looked up to stare at Polaris, the elvhen's gaze had already shifted away.   If he'd noticed Polaris smirking at him, Karme likely would've felt slightly more flustered than he already did. To have his ideas acknowledged and accepted without judgment to the point where they bordered on appreciation was incredibly affirming for a mechanic who was used to keeping the bulk of his creations private. "Rare breed? Yeah, that's one way to put it I guess. I've just recently realized what my magic is for, that's all. I was born to create, not destroy, and if I do have to destroy, it's with intention. Any spare parts or materials can be used to make something awesome, at least I want to be the kind of witch capable of doing so. You caught me at such an awkward time, I haven't even had a chance to try … oh yeah I'm supposed to be packing!"   Karme laughed at himself. He was never getting out of this place at this rate, but he didn't mind so much. He was always in a good mood around his trinkets and gadgets. "Polaris, that's a really, really long time, and I'm one thousand percent positive that an artist's studio will give me ideas. What will I do if inspiration strikes and I have to start building or sketching or doing equations or—" Karme takes a deep breath and minds himself before he went off the deep end. Polaris was a good sport while being in Karme's workshop, so the least he could do was attempt to be the same in the bard's studio. "I guess I can stay awake for a few days prior. Usually I start to slow down right before I pass out so that'll probably be the best time for you to capture my likeness in … hopefully a cool type of stone?"

"Strange visions," Polaris observed as Karme rambled, gingerly taking the bands from the sculptor's hands, fingers scraping idly against palms as Polaris took a beat to stare at the empty spaces left behind. He didn't fault the witch, but the idea had sprung from somewhere; Aetherians were present once again and he'd ignored the extent of their influence once before, he had no intention of being caught unaware again. "I believe you." Came Polaris's response after a long beat, Karme did have an earnestness to him that was difficult to deny. He was coming to understand that it was difficult to blame Karme for much of anything.

"You're a rare breed." Ideologies had a way of crumbling under pressure, it was clear Karme's moral compass had a clear tune to it, but Polaris had lived long enough to see what the weight of an expectation might buckle someone. This Apprentice of Vulcan was still an Olympian, what would the Tower ask for if it meant quelling the darkspawn to the west? Or finally, stamping out the zeal of the Astorians to the South? Still, Polaris wouldn't fault the witch for crimes that had not yet come to pass, but many roads were paved with good intentions.

"I wasn't-" Polaris felt the need to correct himself, adjusting his stance idly as he realized the swing of his candor had to be somewhat alarming. Those dancing balls went off like alarms as Karme rang the bell and let laughter bubble up from somewhere within. "I wasn't angry with you." Lights and amusement lined Karme's jovial features and Polaris stood, fixed for a few moments, just staring in response - smirk light. "Four to six hours," Polaris said at last before he fisted his hands back into his pockets and looked around the workshop, clearing the air in his own way. "that's how long I'll need you to sit still in my studio."

[ageofkarme]

Karme knew he could be socially inept at times, but even he wouldn't have shown what he'd been working on to Eivor, knowing the concept was a source of pain. That's why he didn't think twice about showing the incomplete creation to Polaris, the elvhen shouldn't have known the device's origins. Karme typically wasn't one to copy another's invention. Still, his fixation with the device's capability was cut short in the magic box when it became apparent that the altar Karme first discovered the magic distilling orb had negative memories for one of his boys, meaning when it returned, it returned in full force.

"I only thought I could use the concept to help the queendom, that's all I swear. Magic tools aren't good or evil so I … I don't know what I thought." With his chin tilted and in Polaris' grasp, Karme could plainly see that he felt strongly about his words. The witch felt embarrassed and ashamed, especially since Polaris made a point more accurate than he could've possibly known. The Dark One's eye will be upon you… With Beastbane's warning playing on loop in his mind, Karme had to agree that a darkfriend likely would steal and abuse such a thing if he'd manage to complete it.

Still, that didn't explain the sheer intensity of what Polaris felt. His reactions were alarming enough for the orbs around Karme's neck to spin anxiously to safeguard him if worse came to worse. Karme, however, didn't feel like he was in danger. He didn't know Polaris well, but he could at least observe the rapid switch from the composed sculptor who introduced himself to someone with strong feelings they were trying to push down and back. He was careful but removed the bands from Polaris' hand and set them on the work table after the other loosened his grip on them. "I think I saw it in a vision or something. A lot happened on the boy's trip so it's hard to say now," he responds, notably not looking the elvhen in the eye as he dodges the question as to where he came across the idea. "I'm sorry, Polaris. I shouldn't have left this hanging around. I want to use my magic to fix things and help people, so that's what I'm gonna do."

Karme folds his arms parallel to his chest so his fingertips touch, convex cylindrical weaves forming around his forearms. With Electra, his ability to craft and repair is multiplied so the small orb quicksly zips around to reconstruct the components while Karme rewrote their enchantments. In real-time, two new creations were made: an orb with a handle to ring like a bell that'd spread light everywhere its sound could reach and a small box from the repurposed magic containing bands. He grins as he wills dancing lights around his pointer and directs them into a box, watching it glow with various shining colors like some sort of quartz. "See? Now, no one has to know what I was trying to do. I made something better that can see through darkness and a little trinket that will perpetually fuel the spell. Hopefully. There's nothing to worry about," he says, picking up his light bell just to ring it and watch it make his workshop glow. Karme giggles, then waveringly glances at Polaris again. "You don't have to be mad at me anymore. Sometimes my brain gets ahead of me, but I never want to hurt anybody so everything is okay now. You're … okay now right?"

Polaris prickled at Karme's response, the explanation was intimately familiar and he had half a mind to crush the item in his hands and torch this whole place. He looked to the witch with greater intensity now, though any hostility was layered under the bard's well-assumed candor. This would not be the first time he encountered offense or a reminder of what had been done to him. Something like this could easily be abused, but Karme was not a threat.

If there was a breath that Polaris had been holding, he released it now. "A tool like this would open up channels for abuse. If a Darkfriend were to get their hands on it a lot of people could get hurt." Just because a thing could be done, did not mean that it should. "You're right to decommission it. Besides, you don't strike me as someone who enjoys copying other people's ideas." Polaris clipped Karme's chin for a moment between his thumb and forefinger, a small showing of affection and intentionally laying it on thick to try and make his point more convincing.

Karme's little sister went to work and dispelled any notion that Polaris previously had that there was a sexual relationship of some kind between Karme and his constructs. Working over the bands and dismantling them, she brought them to Polaris, and for the briefest of moments he hesitated in taking them. The materials were different and while the runes weren't exact to what he recognized, the enchantments were similar. He held them in either hand and remembered the weight that once sat across his chest.

He stood there for a beat and held each band with a clenched fist. White knuckles and a grip that began to shake. There was sand, there was screaming, there was death, there was that machine, and then nothing but pain and humiliation. Despair.

Polaris seemed to snap out of it before he looked toward Karme. "Where did you say you came by this idea?"

[ageofkarme]

This was probably the first time Karme thought about himself and his own power. He wasn't emulating another witch or even channeling threads through one of his tools, he only focused on externalizing his magic and how he'd look doing so. With his eyes closed the shadows of his mind created a clear image, but once he opened them he could feel the clarity slip away. Now Karme was anxiously anticipating the sculpture Polaris would make, but he supposed that was part of creating art. Karme could whip up a statue in his likeness very easily, but no one would pay a small fortune for it. Whatever Polaris would make would surely be top tier and now he had Karme invested in the end product.

Wait a minute… Did he just experience Polaris' magic? Elvhen talents were so cool! He wasn't sure on the details which meant he'd have loads of questions to ask. And Karme needed to ask them so badly that he started bouncing on the balls of his feet the moment Polaris created space between them. Questions were about to outpour from his tongue, but the need to defend his fixation overrode everything. "It's not a scythe, it's a death scythe. Big and scary looking, with lots of blades and it can fly around too! It's super sharp and will turn stuff into minced meat and—" Well, Polaris was the artist and Karme wasn't the one paying him. If there'd be no death scythe then there'd be no death scythe. "Fine, whatever," Karme said, pouting. But only for a moment because Polaris distracted him again.

"I can sit still … maybe. How long is 'very long'?" he asks as he slips the smithing apron on again, ready to get to work and … oh no he was supposed to be packing. Karme completely forgot. Oh well, inspiration was striking once again. Packing could wait. "That one's actually pretty interesting. I got the idea for it on a recent trip with my boys. We're all best friends now, boys for life, a pretty tight knit group of guys. It was used for something bad, but I was trying to create a smaller version to at least harness the concept. Concentrating larger quantities of magic and distilling it into another source could be a useful thing to have. I don't know, that one may be a dud, at least at that size. The machine I tried to copy was much larger than that."

A golden orb inlaid into engraved golden braces. The archway Karme wanted to attach it to needed to be sturdy but also incapable of conducting magic or else some may leak out. And Karme hadn't even begun to figure a way to continuously stream magic into the orb while adhering to those constraints. It was an interesting piece of technology, but purely theoretical at this stage. "I think I may have to take it apart and repurpose its components, but that is fine. Perfectly imperfect, right? I'm not afraid of failure because failure can lead to discovery. But … even I have limits," he says with a small bout of laughter. "Actually, I've been doing some reading on sound based technologies. I ventured away for other endeavors, but I want to try some out. I figured I could use these parts to make a really cool bell or something. Figuring out how to enchant sound itself would be a huge magical breakthrough, don't you think?" Antsy to try and few things and wanting to show off for Polaris some, Karme reached into his key ring and pulled out Electra's, excitedly waving it around as it began to glow he said, "It's your time to shine little sister. Let's show Polaris how good of a team we are!" The little orb came out whirring, ready to get to work. "She's my favorite helper, so hopefully you two can get along. She's shy though, so don't try to upstage her," Karme says in a whisper tone, chuckling a bit as he did. Electra made quick work of removing the engraved bands from the large orb, walking up to Polaris to offer them. "Just kidding! She's not sentient, but she's the best at rapid deconstruction and repairs anyway."

The work piqued Polaris's interest. Confetti canons didn't much interest him and the witches of this age were a far cry from the magi that he'd known years prior. There was almost a purity to what was at work here, the other's power stemmed from a flame that burned within his breast and an earnest desire to improve based on what he could create or manipulate using the materials around him. "Then I'm in good company."

The breath of fire and subtle kiss of flames carried an echo from the past; bodies like steel and the pull of smoke and memories. "Vulcan is fitting." Polaris cleared his throat as he finished putting the notion onto the slab at the back of his thoughts. It was the features that he felt most necessary to appreciate, he'd spend some significant time on the witch's head. The flames would be difficult but details were where the elvhen thrived; fine and delicate work could temper the most stubborn steel.

"No scythe necessary." Polaris reeled the vision back as he removed himself from the Apprentice's immediate space as he undid the few buttons on his jacket before slipping it off his shoulder. The sculptor's hands made deff work at his cuffs, rolling them to the elbow as he offered the apron back to Karme so the witch could get back to work and Polaris could get a closer look. "Now, if you're comfortable with an observer - a temporary assistant - it would help me get a clearer picture." A soft, muted hum as he looked about the forge before his deeply perceptive gaze returned to the Olympian. "I get the sense you don't enjoy sitting still for very long." Polaris could be fluid when he needed to be.

"The purpose of these?" Polaris lifted another contraption that sat in two pieces on the table, jacket strewn about somewhere, Karme wasn't the first person that he'd encountered on the continent who enjoyed tinkering and inventing. There was a spark to this work and perhaps within the ego itself that made the image come alive.

[ageofkarme]

Karme wanted all of Lysara to know his name, his name. He didn't want to be another Chrysanthos amalgamized into the general success of his ancestors and his house. But that's not why he tinkered and smithed and enchanted for days at a time until he passed out from exhaustion. Karme loved creating things because his imagination was the limit. In the forge of his mind there was never right or wrong, only intention.

He'd long lost his desire for praise. The concept was pretty foreign growing up. That had nothing to do with why he chased inspiration when it struck him, but that didn't erase how good it felt to have his talent acknowledged. Especially without the qualifier of his noble status being attributed to what he does. "Th-thank you. I always liked geometry and my designs often take on a rounder appearance. Spheres, cylinders, that kind of stuff. A single orb that can fit in your palm can have countless layers of weaves programmed into it to achieve a myriad of reactions. Everyone is always trying to scale larger, but there's something special about powerful yet small tools. I just … really enjoy curved shapes. I've never been one for rigid lines." Polaris was so proper it was easy to forget he was an artist too. You'd think an artist wouldn't mind a few stray confetti pieces, so Karme snickered at how he plucked the shreds from each their bodies. He'd have to find an appropriate time to talk beads, tubes, and balls with Polaris some time.

He sets the compulsion aside temporarily though. If Polaris listens to him, he could at least try to do the same. Focus… When Karme tried really hard he could, though even with his eyes closed, his breaths deep, and Polaris' hands grounding him by the shoulders so it was harder to fidget, it was no easy feat to keep his mind from wandering. He immediately pictured Althea, grandmama, the Queen herself, and even mom. When Karme thought about power, a woman always came to mind first but then he remembered Vlad's cruel voice and how it felt to respond to it. He hated being pushed, but the firepower at his fingertips was intoxicating even though it hurt. In that moment, he was using his power and his alone. A witch who could burn so hot he melted everything while at the same time transforming those components into something new was someone truly worthy of Vulcan's patronage. Karme imagined him as that witch, creator and destroyer in equal measures.

"I can see myself, a master of fire. It's not someone that looks like me either, it's me. I'm powerful but I'm not scary, because I don't use my magic to hurt people. It's clear in my eyes, just as clear as the spark on inspiration I never hold back. I'm … unburdened." It wasn't how Karme saw himself currently, but it was close to the witch he wanted to become. With Polaris in his ear, guiding the path his thoughts took, he could feel the image get sharper and clearer the more he came to relate to it. "It feels warm, confident, and safe. It feels almost like a different person entirely," he says, trailing his words with a huff and a clipped chuckle.

Karme had a habit of barreling ahead without lending much time to Polaris to properly answer him before the witch was onto the next topic. Still, the end of each diatribe left a question falling from Karme's lips that added another shape to the stone that Polaris was crafting in his mind. While the Olympian pressed on and on Polaris stored his answers in a jar, waiting until Karme was done so as not to interrupt him and derail his train of thoughts. If nothing else had become apparent to Polaris, it was that this was very easy to do.

Confetti fell over the sculptor and while, there was a moment, where Polaris's gaze traced the flight pattern of one particularly whimsical piece of paper, he mostly paid it little mind. There were a few obvious sparing gestures where he plucked a piece from his shoulder, and then his sleeve before he extended a hand toward Karme's head and removed one or two from the the witch's hair. "I could think of several uses for similarly shaped objects," Polaris observed, though he wouldn't elaborate, nor would he be shoving anything into that cylindrical explosive shredder anytime soon. "You have a talent worth memorializing." A compliment, one that the proprietor of this workshop was owed, but it helped that Polaris was being paid.

"Focus." Polaris opted instead as he moved to stand behind the witch; a pair of guiding hands landed on either shoulder as the sculptor leaned in toward Karme's ear. "Close your eyes." He prompted, waiting until Karme was compliant. "Now picture the most powerful sorcerer in the world," from the shadows the sculptor drew forth his arcana as he mingled the other's sporadic thoughts with the illusory construct that Polaris was attempting to form in front of them. "imagine the cant of your jawline, the depth of your brow, the earnestness of your gaze and the air in your chest. What does it feel like?" He noted the scent, like an engine set to full blast coming off the Apprentice's skin, the sinew beneath his hands and the materials between his calloused fingers and the man's flesh below.

"When the world looks at your statue, they'll see the heart of your essence: nothing to distract from the architecture. Beauty, gadgets, weaponry - they're masks and neither I nor your work requires them. Perfectly imperfect, as nature intended." Polaris prompted a bit further, extending his shadows deeper, probing further so they might manifest the image that captured Karme's core. Below the ambition and the expectations and underneath whatever veneer he'd donned for the sake of a noble last name or Olympian status. The shadowy sculpture took form and Polaris leaned back, "Now tell me what you see."

[ageofkarme]

Choice paralysis was real for Karme, especially when his mind was already going a mile a minute. Stopping to choose something would stop him completely, and it did long enough for him to still in a pose so Polaris could manipulate his stance. Honestly, Karme didn’t even realize what the sculptor was up to until he was holding a wrench in a less-than-hero pose. It was then Karme realized how laser focused he was. Even when he responded to the things Karme said or stopped to answer one of the many questions he threw out, Polaris hadn't stopped his inspection. He was purposeful, and Karme presumed he'd already begun sculpting in his mind. It was starting to make sense why it cost a "small fortune" to commission his skills. Polaris was critical, but he wasn't being mean about it. He was weird, but Karme was giggling not forcing a grin as his posture got some improvements. 

"Wouldn't a scythe look cooler though? I think it would look cooler. Don't you want people to say "Wow Polaris, that sculpture of Karme is awesome and I really like how you gave him a cool death scythe"? They'll definitely say that." He felt himself awkwardly return to a slouch as he struggled to process two separate trains of thought at once. So he did what felt most natural and dove for the cylinder, immediately flitting around the shop and sifting through piles to put this particular trinket together. "I don't really do weapons, so no. But scythes are really cool! I'll make anything if I get the chance to. Recently I used a bunch of pretty material types for a … project. I liked them all, but it's hard to choose a favorite. I mostly work with metals so that would totally fit me in a sculpture. But if I'm being honest, if I wanted to see myself as a statue I'd want that statue to have everything! So…"

Twisting, screwing, some flame threads to weld and solder then bam! He turned to show Polaris the cylindrical contraption as his mage hand moved about the space, collecting any paper that didn't have important schematics on them. Karme shoves the paper into one end, twisted the cap back on, pressed a button and then showered Polaris with confetti out of the opposite end. "It's a confetti canon! For celebrations and stuff. It creates the perfect sized scraps, though I probably should add some color changing mechanisms so that I can customize what pops out better…" Karme was now entrenched in the modifications he could make to this, but his brain did queue up some of the questions he set aside for his own fixations. "A skarn deposit, sculpting out of that would give me all kinds of colors and material types. I like having a lot. That's why I got this awesome belt from a pop up shop. It was so scary but I gave the shop keeper a bag of gold coin and I got it. Now I'm a monster slayer with a pouch full of harvested parts. Pretty cool, right? Death scythe over a wrench cool?" Karme wasn't just a greasy workshop hermit anymore and he puffed up his chest a little too.

Well organized? The notes of chaos said otherwise but the witch seemed quite convinced otherwise. "There is a joke among my kind," Polaris conceded, sculptors, not included, the chromatic dragon felt inclined to ask. "that you can tell a great deal about a person by the material they choose: stone, metal, gemstones. Be it marble, steel, or ruby." He lingered another moment as Karme prattled on, "Tell me which you'd prefer while you show me... What that one does." Polaris made a gesture with his chin toward a cylindrical tube on the ground.

"Have you ever held a scythe before?" Rhetorical, he knew the question, the witch didn't look like he'd so much as held a dagger before - let alone a weapon that reached fifteen feet. A quick scan and Polaris slipped his hand out of his pocket to pull a tool from Karme's person. "Maybe a wrench or something would be more accurate." A vision was beginning to take shape but was still incomplete; he saw a man standing on top of a pile of... Inventions, tool in hand as he raised it over a rising sun.

Polaris placed the tool in Karme's hand, pushed his arm slightly into a less awkward position, lifted it by the elbow, and then did his best to make the obvious limp wrist more subtle. "Chin up," Polaris tilted Karme's chin higher and took a couple easy strides before one hand went to the witch's shoulder and the other landed on the small of his back. Clearly, the other spent long hours bent over a table, working, but the statue would exude power and creativity. Polaris pulled lightly at the apron strings, gathering the filthy garment over his arm. "Back straight- better." The pose looked less comical and more like something he could work with. When Polaris stepped ahead to appraise, he looked Karme over and scratched his chin.

At last, Polaris fully noted the girdle. "Slayer." Sounded unlikely, "How did you come by that?" Topaz wouldn't fit, neither blue nor golden.

[ageofkarme]

A small fortune? Well, one bag of gold coins was typical for a small shopping trip, so a small fortune must've been ten or twenty he thought. That was ... probably a lot. He couldn't say for sure since the house vault sported mostly platinum and conversion rates were the most boring calculations imaginable.

But Karme didn't press the subject further. Polaris had successfully directed his attention toward other, more interesting subjects. "I could tell you about all of my gadets and tools, don't let the mess fool you I'm actually very well organized. If you wanted something that could compress the earth into a solid form to make a mini statue, I could tell you the key components to such a device are somewhere in piles three, azure, and star," he shares, pointing to various locations about the workshop. Karme's labeling method for his piles was disjointed at best, but he didn't mind. Digging to find what he wanted always helped him reconnect with a project he had forgotten about.

"I can help you! Make it stronger! I want to be blue all over, blue blue blue!" Now he was getting excited, his eyes lighting up at the stones Polaris pulled out of his pocket. It was only at this moment that Karme realized two things: the guy had really strong hands and he was very focused. No one focused on Karme ever, so he felt his face flush once his mind processed that Polaris was still analyzing him. He awkwardly looked away as he rubbed his jaw, amazed at how much of an impression a single grip could leave behind.

"Can I hold a death scythe too?" Karme didn't wield a scythe, nor would he ever find a practical application for one, but he'd been obsessed with the concept for some time now. Dior made one out of nothing, so surely a professional could do the same. "Check it, I could strike a power pose so I look awesome. Polaris, blue me like never before!" He backs up to show off some of his best, wobbly poses while holding an imaginary scythe. He wanted Polaris to capture his essence well.

What Karme's cousin intended to do with the statue after it was done was none of Polaris's business. The nature of the witch's family dynamic wasn't the sculptor's concern but he'd acquiesce to some of Karme's questioning while he continued to appraise his features. Should the bard have come to learn of what the family intended to do with the commission once complete, offense would be followed by a measure of retribution.

"A small fortune." Polaris affirmed as his dark eyes focused less on the overview and more minute details. The slope of the witch's nose, the slight curve of his brow, the texture of his hair and the dedicated earnestness behind his eyes. Given recent events, it was rare - especially given the witch's Olympian status.

"I was only speculating. Not asking." It was part of his process but it was rare for a subject to offer anything particularly worthwhile. He appreciated the stone and while he didn't dismiss the notion completely, Polaris doubted the availability of a piece as large as what he'd need. If nothing else, Karme's family could afford it though. While Polaris hadn't been asking, he didn't dismiss the witch's contribution but instead commented further on it. "Tough. Resistant, but it can fracture when struck." Topaz was a durable stone, hard; Polaris remained in the other's space, head slightly tilted as he studied the quick way that Karme's gaze seemed to flit back and forth.

True creation was not about what lay on the surface, but what was waiting within. Beneath the smile and the wild eyes, the scattered train of thoughts and the... Oil stains. "Polaris." The sculptor's calloused hands slipped into his pockets as he kept to studying. Topaz came in two distinct hues. "Golden or blue?"

[ageofkarme]

Honestly, Karme didn't believe someone in his house actually wanted his sculpture so he didn't put much stock in that part of what the stranger had to say. He had questions, and he needed answers to them, but he also had to ask, "Wait, you were serious about that? Someone paid to make me into art?"

Karme never got that answer because he was taken in hand—in hand!—by the other. What else could he do but let it happen? Karme was shocked into silence that it was happening at all. Who was he again? Did Karme even ask? Probably not, but he couldn't say anything for sure.

"I've got so many projects but this one is a big one!" It felt a little awkward being made to answer questions while having his head turned for him, but now he was being prompted to speak so he did just that. "But don't let my workshop fool you, I'm the kind of witch that can finish the things he starts. I will be working on this one and so many others. You see this belt I have?" His slayer's girdle was actually mostly concealed behind his apron. "It has all kinds of raw materials in it so that I can make something really really cool. That's this project I'm working on. Who are you? Instead of ivory, maybe a mineral-based sculpture? Like amethyst or topaz! Can you make me topaz?"

"Your cousin has paid enough that you don't get much say in the matter." It wouldn't be the first time his subject was less than compliant but Polaris only needed them for short bursts. Karme certainly did talk, quite a bit in fact, and while Polaris held a vague interest in whatever the budding engineer was working on, he was, first and foremost, a professional.

Hardly paying any attention to Karme's ramblings, Polaris took a moment to appraise the witch before he extended a hand toward his features and held his jaw. "Interesting features." Came the sculptor's comment before he abruptly tilted Karme's head to the side and noted the length of the bone and the awkward proportion to the rest of his features. "Ivory would be flattering, but not quite," Polaris muttered more or less to himself as he held Karme's face in a firm grip before he turned his head to look at the other side.

Colours. Bells. None of the above, really. "Is this for another..." Polaris passed a derisive look around the chamber, his gaze swept across the workshop before he released his hold on the vibrating witch. The floor was littered and only becoming more cluttered with various items, it was hard to discern which was for what - let alone keep pace with whatever was going through Karme's mind. "Project?"

[ageofkarme]

The list of things Karme had to do was long, made even longer because he kept getting distracted. Karme had been so caught up in his adventures that he forgot about all he was tinkering with in his workshop. Karme would move a pile of parts to one end of the workshop, start putting a few parts together at the other, then get distracted by the waves hitting the shore until he remembered he had to finish packing things up.

Caught in his own world, Karme was mid-lift when he was startled by the sound of his name. Turning to face the other despite his eyesight being obscured by all the metal he held in his arms caused the mountain to lose a few pieces, but it wouldn't matter. Hearing someone else's voice amidst his flurry of thoughts allowed Karme to reconsider and think and think and think... "–—Hey that's it!" Karme exclaims, dropping everything he was carrying so it all clanged and scattered to the already messy workspace.

Karme processed the stranger's words, but he also didn't, moving furiously about to grab some paper and ink. Without a drawing utensil, he just dropped to the floor and used his fingers as brushes. "Sculptures are art, art is unique, they each need to be unique in a way that's true to them and this one has to be flashy..."

He muttered and fingerpainted with ink until he stopped abruptly and looked up at the guy in his shop, blinking as if finally seeing him clearly. "Hey you know my name. You're here for me?" he responds as he wipes his greasy, inky hands on his apron. It seemed his brain was finally catching up to him, but withholding the questions he really wanted to ask started making him itch. "You're an artsy guy, right? I don't need a sculpture, but could you tell me if blue, gold, and red make for a good color scheme? Also what is your preferred bell volume level?" Karme hurriedly gets up to show his finger painting to the sculptor guy, but it just looks like a roundish thing with spikes. Still, he wants an honest opinion because he didn't meet many artists.

@ageofkarme location: karme's workshop notes: post grandma's convo, pre-him officially moving out

From one end of the workshop to the other, this witch's forge was littered with piles of half-worked thoughts and gadgets buried so deep they might never see the light of day. Most of it just looked like junk, garbage that Polaris gingerly cleared with the toe of his boot to keep himself from tripping. As far as hordes went it left a good deal to be desired; it was deceptive at first as a mountain of gleaning metals but the tarnish at the edges and the oil smears upon closer inspection spoke volumes of the apprentice's mental state.

The request was a bit delayed, booked well over a year ago, but the snobbish woman had paid a handsome fee to have a statue of an Apprentice of Vulcan constructed. While the sculptor had been finishing a piece of the One God in Maferath, he'd returned recently to begin work on the commissions on Lysaran soil.

A pre-visit was a requirement to assess his subjects before he began: the right material needed to be chosen and that was best accomplished upon close inspection. Polaris already had a strong read on the witch's... personality, given the state of this place, but nevertheless, he needed more information.

There was some clamor and a bit of ruckus, and when Polaris turned toward the source he saw the subject in question. "Karme-" it was the closest he came in greeting humans these days, superiority coming off him in waves. "Your cousin has commissioned a sculpture of you... Your-" he assumed that Karme was aware, "attire is nonstandard."