by mal du pays » Thu Nov 26, 2020 4:40 pm
I'd like to enter!
Lambicorn name: Takura.
Gender: Nonbinary (He/they)
Prompt/Link:
Tick, tock. Tick, tock.
The noise echoed through the tiled halls as Century made his way through the decorated building, his attention focused solely on his primary goal during this visit.
One room.
The folks who lived in this building often would remark on the Elder’s peculiar habits when they thought he would not hear them - oftentimes the lot of them disregarding the foliage that grew nearby through love & care. Despite his attempts to lead with an open and caring hand, the gossip of the residents reflected a more unfortunate belief.
A belief that ultimately made Century upset. After everything he had done for the people, this was what he got?
Begrudgingly he managed to find the room he was seeking. A doorway decorated only by an hourglass embedded into the frame, Century raised a root-built hand and turned it over four times to unlock the door. In he went.
Darkness gave way to light as the lights flickered on, the room a warm orange tone. Light reflected off of various items made of copper and brass, including various tiles & pieces of the wall - a form of care given to a room that felt like it could fall apart. The plant Elder muttered to himself as he got into a softly padded chair, shuffling through the various parts scattered on the desk. Part of him wished he was more organized, but alas, that was not his priority at the moment. He found what he was looking for on the desk - a small metal frame partially stuck together - and he made space, fishing more parts from the messy pile alongside a blowtorch. Was it risky for him to use a blowtorch? Sure. He was too irritated to care, though, and he began to weld the pieces together. As he stuck pieces together & welded them onto the changing shape, he began to cool down - the busywork of metalworking overtaking the worries that had infested his brain.
Soon the little metal figure was finished. It wasn’t very professionally made, just a simple little figure of a regular lambicorn, but the quality didn’t matter very much. Century gave it a firm onceover before giving a contented sound, setting it down gently on the desk.
Perhaps it would be given life later. For now, it had done its job, and he was grateful.
Extras/Link: maybe?