Good to know. I know it's a touchy subject for a lot of people, so I try to be upfront about it. I'm traditionally trained though, so I don't use it to work. I've just been experimenting with some things since getting here.
I can do that. I'll run a few tests with what I have available and I can let you take a look at what I have to see if any of them have the right look. I should have something in a few days at most.
[Renoir has never been a late sleeper. He wakes at dawn and affords himself time to prepare for the day. It barely takes an hour. He strolls around the castle, taking a walk to clear his mind until the day begins and he can head down to the market.
He enters the workshop not long after, likely becoming the first customer of the day. There is no time to wait at the door. His manner is entirely that of a man with purpose.]
[ Maybe it's the gradual shift of having been in Dawn Court as long as he has, but Jayce is often up by sunrise most days. Not that he always gets up to work but today, he does, because he had been up thinking about those alloys and he'd wanted to see what he could come up with. ]
Yeah. It's turned into a habit.
[ Jayce pushes his goggles up onto his forehead and he squints briefly, looking at Renoir and trying to see through the haze of what he could only say was magic. ]
So I've got a couple different things for you to look at. It's all still 95% silver, but we have germanium, [ and he drops down a small little sheet of silver metal ] vanadium, [ another sheet, this with a slightly more blue shade, ] and platinum [ and another sheet, this more white than silver ]. Any of these look good?
[By contrast, Renoir has always been an early riser, and that discipline had become constant once Aline had entered his life. But he momentarily stops dreaming (daydreaming she called it) to hear explainations as the other introduces three sheets of metal.
He approaches the table, leaning slightly into his cane. What this man had been staring at him for? Well, he has no idea. His fingers direct his curiosity into the metal, investigating them all before beginning to favour the germanium and platinum.
They eventually favour the latter and he gently slides it across the table.]
I'll say it again. A gentleman deserves compensation for his work.
[Perhaps that shows too much of a work ethic? Perhaps he needs to learn to let go.]
[ Being up early in the morning used to be a product of late nights that and turned into waking up having fallen asleep on his desk. His schedule is better, now, but that's part of just having settled into a new routine.
And Jayce does have manners, he promises. It's the headache and the light that just seems to radiate off of people that distracts him. It's a bad excuse, so he just tries to play it off, eyes turned down at the metal on the table, studying them. Waiting to see which one Renoir picks. ]
Platinum should last a long time too. [ Jayce picks up the other two scraps and drops them into a drawer nearby. He'll find something to do with those later; Jayce never wastes anything if he can help it. ] And it's strong. [ Downside is that it's expensive, but Jayce is up often and early and the hours he'd need at the forge to get the amount he'll need isn't too much. ]
Did you have something in mind? [ Jayce flips the platinum-silver alloy chip over in his hands. ]
[One for each music box. Renoir walks around the table to look at the walls and work surfaces nearby, studying them as Jayce studies the work upon his counter.]
There are melodies from home that would suffice. You've perhaps figured out how to transfer such music before?
If you can write the sheet music out, I can handle the rest, yeah.
[ Jayce pulls out a prototype of the music box he had made for the fae, giving Renoir the chance to inspect it, if he wanted. ]
How long did you want each song to be? [ As he listens, Jayce is doing some math on a scrap piece of paper, working out how much platinum he's going to need on top of all the other metals and parts necessary to bring these things to life. ]
[ Jayce is better with sheet music now than when he got here, having taken a few lessons before he found himself too busy to keep up with it. ]
That should be fine. [ He's a little distracted as he speaks, jotting down a few notes, always doing a million things at once. ]
They had us meet with flower faeries, [ Jayce explains, looking up at the prototype. ] We were told to bring a gift and I heard that fae like music so, yeah. I made them a music box. They seemed to like it.
[Sheet music, then. He can read and transcribe. But he also knows someone who can compose. He indulges in thought for a moment, deciding whether to approach or ignore.]
It is good they did.
[His voice sounds the opposite of distracted, ruminating over consequences he has yet to experience.]
From the stories I hear, the consquences could have been dire.
[ Honestly, he hadn't thought about what might have happened if the gift he'd brought hadn't been liked. Which is a little of that old ego peaking through. Jayce had always been proud of his work and that's persisted. ]
What could have happened?
[ He doesn't actually want to know but he asked. ]
I've... [ and Jayce pauses just long enough to give himself time to craft a diplomatic answer. ] Tried my best to avoid all the court rulers and any stories about them.
[ It wasn't exactly the truth, but close enough to one to not trip him up, because Jayce had always been a terrible liar. He knew enough about them to get by without flagging them, and that was what mattered to him. ]
Well, then I'm glad they liked what I brought though I don't know if I heard them disliking any of the gifts. Maybe the flower faeries are less... picky.
[The words allow him to pause for thought. Preferences. Personalities. Both are something they have in common.]
Preferences are another thing we share. But are they something we are born with or something we learn? Do we ever make our own choices about what we enjoy in life?
[ Jayce sits back, pushing his notebook to the side and letting the pen roll into the dip at the spine. ]
If we're born with preferences, they grow with us. The things I've liked, wanted, worked towards? Have changed over time. [ Jayce drags a hand through his hair, pushing it back and out of his now-unnaturally gold eyes. ] But we always have a choice. I chose the path I'm on and I can decide where I go on it.
[Renoir stands watch nearby. He leans his weight more into his cane and lets his head angle forwards.]
Would you say everyone is afforded that option?
[He glances over his shoulder, at the possessions that fill the space. How much of this choice was by design? Borne from the preferences of another. But yet... But yet... He had chosen his own way in painting. Hadn't he?]
[ Jayce doesn't balk at the question and he answers it earnestly, partially because he wants to keep reminding himself that it was true. Succumbing to hopelessness was too easy for him, so Jayce has to work harder to fight that instinct. ]
It's just easier for some people to make that choice.
[ Jayce lets the conversation go because he can tell he'll just talk himself in circles otherwise. He nods as Renoir starts to make the move to leave. Trust him, Jayce knows what it looks like when someone is trying to think of a way to escape; he's been there hundreds of times. ]
Of course. I'm happy to help. I should have these done soon and I'll send you a message when I can bring them by. After that, if you ever need anything else, just let me know. Or if something happens to any of these. I'll fix it for free.
[ Jayce has too much pride in his work to allow for anything else. ]
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I can do that. I'll run a few tests with what I have available and I can let you take a look at what I have to see if any of them have the right look. I should have something in a few days at most.
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Please contact me again at your convenience.
[Perfection in choice. Not perfection in the art.]
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I got a couple of those alloys for you to look at. You can stop by whenever you have time. I'll be at the workshop all day.
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He enters the workshop not long after, likely becoming the first customer of the day. There is no time to wait at the door. His manner is entirely that of a man with purpose.]
You're awake early.
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Yeah. It's turned into a habit.
[ Jayce pushes his goggles up onto his forehead and he squints briefly, looking at Renoir and trying to see through the haze of what he could only say was magic. ]
So I've got a couple different things for you to look at. It's all still 95% silver, but we have germanium, [ and he drops down a small little sheet of silver metal ] vanadium, [ another sheet, this with a slightly more blue shade, ] and platinum [ and another sheet, this more white than silver ]. Any of these look good?
Act 2 Spoilers
He approaches the table, leaning slightly into his cane. What this man had been staring at him for? Well, he has no idea. His fingers direct his curiosity into the metal, investigating them all before beginning to favour the germanium and platinum.
They eventually favour the latter and he gently slides it across the table.]
I'll say it again. A gentleman deserves compensation for his work.
[Perhaps that shows too much of a work ethic? Perhaps he needs to learn to let go.]
no subject
And Jayce does have manners, he promises. It's the headache and the light that just seems to radiate off of people that distracts him. It's a bad excuse, so he just tries to play it off, eyes turned down at the metal on the table, studying them. Waiting to see which one Renoir picks. ]
Platinum should last a long time too. [ Jayce picks up the other two scraps and drops them into a drawer nearby. He'll find something to do with those later; Jayce never wastes anything if he can help it. ] And it's strong. [ Downside is that it's expensive, but Jayce is up often and early and the hours he'd need at the forge to get the amount he'll need isn't too much. ]
Did you have something in mind? [ Jayce flips the platinum-silver alloy chip over in his hands. ]
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[One for each music box. Renoir walks around the table to look at the walls and work surfaces nearby, studying them as Jayce studies the work upon his counter.]
There are melodies from home that would suffice. You've perhaps figured out how to transfer such music before?
[Don't tell him it needs magic.]
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[ Jayce pulls out a prototype of the music box he had made for the fae, giving Renoir the chance to inspect it, if he wanted. ]
How long did you want each song to be? [ As he listens, Jayce is doing some math on a scrap piece of paper, working out how much platinum he's going to need on top of all the other metals and parts necessary to bring these things to life. ]
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Roughly a minute. Give or take twenty seconds more.
[He looks at the prototype but doesn't touch it to pull it apart. He is content to study it with a thoughtful eye.]
Who was this crafted for?
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That should be fine. [ He's a little distracted as he speaks, jotting down a few notes, always doing a million things at once. ]
They had us meet with flower faeries, [ Jayce explains, looking up at the prototype. ] We were told to bring a gift and I heard that fae like music so, yeah. I made them a music box. They seemed to like it.
[ Either way, Jayce had been proud of it. ]
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It is good they did.
[His voice sounds the opposite of distracted, ruminating over consequences he has yet to experience.]
From the stories I hear, the consquences could have been dire.
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[ Honestly, he hadn't thought about what might have happened if the gift he'd brought hadn't been liked. Which is a little of that old ego peaking through. Jayce had always been proud of his work and that's persisted. ]
What could have happened?
[ He doesn't actually want to know but he asked. ]
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You hear stories about the Dusk Countess's predilection for making people disappear, I assume?
[Zorya is honest about her nature. Not her actions, perhaps, but her emotional core is sound. He sounds respectful of that fact.]
Though her brethren do not share her power, they seem to share that same appetite.
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[ It wasn't exactly the truth, but close enough to one to not trip him up, because Jayce had always been a terrible liar. He knew enough about them to get by without flagging them, and that was what mattered to him. ]
Well, then I'm glad they liked what I brought though I don't know if I heard them disliking any of the gifts. Maybe the flower faeries are less... picky.
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[The words allow him to pause for thought. Preferences. Personalities. Both are something they have in common.]
Preferences are another thing we share. But are they something we are born with or something we learn? Do we ever make our own choices about what we enjoy in life?
[Blah blah metaphor blah blah.]
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[ Jayce sits back, pushing his notebook to the side and letting the pen roll into the dip at the spine. ]
If we're born with preferences, they grow with us. The things I've liked, wanted, worked towards? Have changed over time. [ Jayce drags a hand through his hair, pushing it back and out of his now-unnaturally gold eyes. ] But we always have a choice. I chose the path I'm on and I can decide where I go on it.
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Would you say everyone is afforded that option?
[He glances over his shoulder, at the possessions that fill the space. How much of this choice was by design? Borne from the preferences of another. But yet... But yet... He had chosen his own way in painting. Hadn't he?]
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[ Jayce doesn't balk at the question and he answers it earnestly, partially because he wants to keep reminding himself that it was true. Succumbing to hopelessness was too easy for him, so Jayce has to work harder to fight that instinct. ]
It's just easier for some people to make that choice.
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[That much is true. But this conversation is going nowhere.
Renoir repositions his cane towards the door. Business concluded, he has little reason to remain, other than demonstrating good manners.]
In any case, allow me to extend my gratitude.
[For taking on this work.]
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Of course. I'm happy to help. I should have these done soon and I'll send you a message when I can bring them by. After that, if you ever need anything else, just let me know. Or if something happens to any of these. I'll fix it for free.
[ Jayce has too much pride in his work to allow for anything else. ]