Completed [The Velvet Ear] A Day For The Ladies

[Inari Lorak]

Fall, Day 30, 513 AV "Carving knives down!" Inari waved her hands up into the air, signaling for her students to stop working. Each wore a set of sturdy gloves for their first lessons and sat at a small desk, various tools and bits of wood strewn about the tops. The Lorak made no move to inspect their work; instead, she took in a deep breath, reveling in the fine smell of sawdust and the heartening sight of hunched backs and aching shoulders. For Fiora and Nala's first attempts at wood carving, Inari had them start with a small, rectangular piece of wood about two fingers wide. This was to familiarize them with all the various types of knives within a typical set, which could produce different markings and patterns. There was the regular carving knife for basic functions like rounding edges, v-tools for parting lines and making v-shaped notches, about a half a dozen different sized gouges, and a mallet. They were forbidden, however, to use the mallet just yet. Inari had seen one too many careless accidents with a few overly zealous mallet beaters and wasn't keen on watching history repeat itself. Even the most responsible and level headed students tended to get a bit carried away with the mallet. Not, the Lorak found herself constantly admitting, that they were to be blamed. Using a chisel and mallet required a good bit of strength, control and focus, but a much greater deal of patience as well. Once a piece had been knocked off, it was gone for good. There was no putting it back, and often people would get frustrated with their mistakes, rush hastily to start anew, then narrowly avoid hacking off a finger or two. If they were lucky. As a rule, none of her students ever picked up a mallet for their first few lessons, and even after then it was left to Inari's sole discretion as to how soon an individual would be allowed to use one. Unfortunately, some people were just never meant to handle a blunt weapon of any kind, more for their own sakes than anyone else's. Fi and Nala, however, could be clear exceptions, but Inari decided to play it safe all the same. "Alright, then. Now you can each pass your carvings to the other, and our little show shall begin shortly." Inari found that, by using the word "show" instead of "quiz," people were less likely to panic and blank out. The whole thing was rather unconventional, as most of Inari's methods were, but they were here to have fun, so why not? The quirky tutor grinned as she watched her students rise to pass along their work, then sit back down in their seats and inspect their new sets of carvings. They had each been assigned the same, straightforward instructions: create a simple set of patterns using a different tool on three of the short blocks of wood, and use a combination on the last block. "Now, take a good look at what the other person did. In about three chimes, each of you will give a little demonstration for what tools you think were used on each block. Ready, set, go!"

[Fiora Radacke]

Fiora Absolutely flabbergasted at Inari's ability in woodcarving, Fiora stared dejectedly at the small rectangular blocks on the table in front of her. Patterns and designs were her forte, but she was used to creating by weaving threads together, by adding materials to others, not taking part of an object away. She was finding carving to be much more difficult than she had thought it was. Futhermore, she had been forced to stop carving a few times in order to pull three splinters out of her hands. Fiora's blocks had shallow notches that crisscrossed crookedly over the surfaces of the wood. In her line of work, delicacy was important, and the Benshira found that she did not have the determination nor the strength to scratch deep sections with the tools she was given. Now she finally understood why Inari had such toned wrists and forearms. Glancing up at her friend now, she listened carefully to the instructions. She traded her blocks with Nala's, giving the Rajor an embarrassed shrug as she handed her wood over. Examining the Dhani's blocks made Fiora feel even more inferior in this particular skill. Nala's cuts were straight and deep, and even in this simple exercise, Fiora could tell that Nala would advance quickly in woodcarving. The Rajor had attacked the challenge with fortitude and precision, her power evident in the small pieces of wood. The Benshira wondered whether she was the right Radacke for this. Perhaps she should get Inari to teach Bice a thing or two about carving. It might be therapeutic for him to gouge into wooden blocks instead of taking his frustrations out on her or other people. Inari announced that they would have to demonstrate which tools were used on each block that their companion etched into. This Fiora was sure she could do. It was only a matter of comparing the shapes of the tools and the marks made by them. How hard could it be? But when she focused on Nala's designs once more, she found herself more puzzled than ever. One block's pattern was so well done that she couldn't begin to guess how it had been carved with any of the tools. Another one could have been made with one of three different knives. Fiora slunk lower in her seat, praying to Yahal that she would not be called on first or she would only make a fool of herself. Roaming her eyes around the room, she caught sight of some mallets hanging up on the wall. Fiora wished she could take one down and pound away at her ugly blocks, but she stayed in her seat and nervously ran her fingers over the nails of the opposite hand. Fingers that were used to holding finespun threads, not knives. Fingers that could rapidly wind their way through vertical strings, not scratch designs into thick geometric shapes. Though she had always admired Inari's creations, she was coming to appreciate the hard work and effort the Lorak put into them a million times more than she had previously.

[Nalahessarajor]

Nala had been struck by Inari’s talent at woodcarving as soon as she walked through the door to her shop. She’d been invited to attend a class with Fiora, as two tenday ago she had mentioned her desire to learn such an art. She had been so dazed that she had missed the early instructions as to what she was meant to do with the various wooden blocks, and was shocked to her senses once she noticed that everyone but her was working. She had looked over to Fiora, who sat to her left, and saw her carving delicate configurations into the blocks, lines so jagged and powerful she could not help but be reminded of her very own mother. She tried to replicate it, assuming that Fiora had heard the instructions, but she always dug far too deep into the block, her lines far more straight than Fiora’s. They looked like valleys, for Siku’s sake! She had to switch tools a number of times, trying to replicate the delicate woodwork of the Benshiran Bull. It was no use, however, as she never seemed to be able to make anything remotely similar to her work. As she pushed her blocks to Fiora, she was given an apologetic shrug, as if her plight had been recognized. She blushed, embarrassed, and accepted the cubes from her. Despite the dainty angle from which Fiora had approached the task, her cubes had turned out sharply angular and full of power, the meaning behind them clear to Nala. The symbolism was quite obvious; subtlety is strength. Nala had yet to manage a correct line and Fiora was already delving into conceptual art! She simply knew the girl would accelerate more quickly through this art than she, and Nala would soon be taking tutoring lessons on the side from one with such talent. Then the realization hit that she had to identify what tools had been used for each mark in the blocks. Nala’s eyes widened is worry as this odd pop quiz. She tried to remember some of what she’d seen Fiora working with, but it truly wasn’t any use. They all looked the same to her, wood handles with long metal extensions that were either hooked or bladed. She tried matching tools into the marks, but many were so light that they barely scratched the surface of the wood, making identification nearly impossible. She glanced around the room, hoping that some of the other students were having similar problems with the assignment. A number were already finished, though some were nearly wrapping up. Fiora was glancing absent mindedly at the mallet rack, and Nala assumed the task must have been so simple for her that she had become bored of it. She gulped, looking from the tools to the blocks before her. Gods be good, let me be skipped.

OOCHA! Turning the tables on Fiora was a ton of fun in this post.

[Inari Lorak]

It was almost too much. Their bewildered expressions, their desperate attempts to mimic the other, as though each believed their counterpart had all the answers--Inari wouldn't miss this for the world. It was the best sort of entertainment, second only to a solid midnight performance or watching a slew of shirtless Drykas men glistening under the midday sun. Trying not to burst out laughing, she grinned wider, the result leaving her appearing more maniacal and eccentric to her students than ever. Three chimes were up. The carving teacher looked about the clean, functional space filled with rainbows upon rainbows of tools and wood blocks and faces scrunched up in noteworthy effort. Aside from Fi and Nala, there was a smattering of other regular clients, though Inari made sure none were of Dynastic descent so as to give her friends a peace of mind. It was odd enough to have both a Radacke and a Rajor in a Lorak's shop; it was even stranger that all three women were friends. The last thing they needed was some pampered sod running around spreading vicious rumors and earning each of them some deeply undesired attention. "Alright then. Lorin, you first." A tall boy of some twenty odd years with a mop of unruly, brown hair gulped, then stood abruptly from his chair, almost knocking his table clean over. With a brown, calloused hand he steadied it, ducking his head in embarrassment. He had the build and demeanor of a commoner used to manual labor, his grey eyes glued to the blocks in his hands as though if they looked at anything else he'd be reduced to a gibbering heap. Oh dear, Inari sighed inwardly, I hope he doesn't run for the nearest door this time. Everyone else must have been thinking the same thing, because they watched him with a mix of pity and fear, not knowing whether he would flee or simply give up. Maybe she shouldn't have made him go first. He looked like he was about to faint from sheer effort. Inari readied the words in her mouth to skip to the next person, but stopped as Lorin coughed, stuck out the blocks in his hand, and proceeded to surprise them all. He named all the tools used and, with an apologetic look to his partner, even went as far as pointing out the mistakes in which each was handled. Aside from a few stutters and halts, he did quite a fine job, for which Inari praised him openly. The boy sank back down in his seat, still jittery but pleased, two pink spots glowing contentedly on his cheeks. His partner, a similarly aged boy named Geric, went next and did just as well. As a joke, he ended with a derisive comment on how all of Lorin's blocks artistically expressed extreme signs of pompousness and jackassery, for which the creator should be publicly punished. Inari casually threatened that the accused blocks would be aimed at his head next if Mr. Class Clown didn't sit down and kindly shut his piehole once his turn was done. Geric adopted the look of perfect innocence, then plopped back into his seat with a friendly punch to Lorin's shoulders. "See! Not so bad. Okay, Fi, why don't you go next?" She smiled and waved encouragingly to her friend to stand up, even as she silently mouthed with a glitter of mischief in her eyes, don't choke.

[Fiora Radacke]

Fiora Trading grimaces with Nala, Fiora pretended to examine the Dhani's cubes of wood, but she did not really have any idea which tools had done what. Nala's deep gouges were true and well formed, like water ways through blocky mountains. Fiora tilted her head to the side, staring at the straight rivers, imagining floating on a raft through the wood, her children clutched in her arms, while Nala and Inari lounged in the sun next to her and little Pina trailed her fingers in the water. Who knows where they would sail to, as long as it was somewhere beautiful and safe... far away from Kenash... Fiora jumped at the sound of Inari's voice announcing that their time was up. She blinked and twisted her head around the room, noticing the odd looks she and the Dhani were getting from some of the other students. She really couldn't blame them, they must look a quite a pair. Her Lorak friend was certainly in her element up front and in charge, as a teacher. The role fit her so well and brought out an air of confidence that made her already rosy skin seem to glow. The half-Vantha was so pretty, even when she was smiling like a deranged hyena. Ari called on a young man to go first, and when the lanky boy stood up nervously, Fiora was comforted that she wasn't the only one feeling so insecure. The young man, Lorin, did not have anything to fear, though, as from what she could tell, he got all of the answers right. His partner proceeded to follow in his footsteps, though he made some kind of cocky remark. Swiftly, The Velvet Ear owner put him in his place and Fiora elbowed Nala lightly, snickering under her breath. Her skin went pale a few ticks later when Inari called on her to go next. Fiora grabbed a block and began to rise, her eyes begging her friend to take back the invitation. When the Benshira woman saw Ari mouth something that might have been go smoke or dope folk she furrowed her brows, puzzled. Which she was sure didn't help her authenticity. "Well," she began, feeling all of the eyes in the room on her and cringing under the attention. "These marks," she paused again, "were most likely made by...." Fiora rapidly swept her eyes over the tools on the table and picked up the largest knife. "This blade." She let both of them drop to the table and grabbed another cube of wood. "And these here," she started again, being very careful not to let the other students see the marks well, "were made with this carver." She had just picked up a random tool and quickly went through the remaining blocks that Nala had cut into with the same approach. Then, she sat back down, her face dark pink with embarrassment, refusing to meet the gaze of Inari, Nala, or anyone else in the room.

[Inari Lorak]

Inari held back a snort of laughter, but she neither corrected nor admonished her wondrously flustered friend. For, unbeknownst to her newest students, this exercise was about getting beginners to gain some confidence in their own actions, and to motivate themselves to work harder upon realizing their weaknesses, not about proving anything to their teacher. The Lorak cared little for right answers because they simply didn't matter; whatever worked best in a carver's hand, she believed, was what worked best, easy as that. Be that as it may, she wasn't actually going to tell them this important little fact. Her dear friends were here to learn, after all, and Inari was enjoying herself far too much. The day was still young, and the specially tailored lesson far from over "Not bad, Fi. I admire your decisiveness, that's quite an important attitude to have when working with wood. Otherwise, you'd be sitting there all day, afraid to carve a single mark." She then winked at Pina, trusting that the next time Marco and Thia came to visit, the young assistant would gush to them how expertly their mother had conquered the assignment. From the other side of the room, she could see that Geric and Lorin, having developed through jokes and insults some mysterious bond exclusive to the bizarre laws of boyhood, were now watching her own friends with renewed interest. Earlier, they had been sneaking glances when Fi and Nala entered the work space, clearly unused to seeing Dynasty women up close and personal. The bemused tutor wasn't entirely sure whether these boys came for the lessons or for the pretty girls, but either way, at least they were being kept interested. "Alrighty then. Nicely done. Nala, care to go next?"

[Nalahessarajor]

Nala sat, dejected, as Fiora rose from her seat and began giving…all the wrong answers? She looked from the tools the woman picked up to her own set, looking more confused than before. Had that sense of confidence been a ruse? Was Fi simply as lost as she? Or was she simply putting herself down to make Nala feel better about her complete ineptitude. She had no way of knowing, but she was quite certain that half the tools that were mentioned hadn’t touched the Dhani’s palm, and those that she had used were for completely different marks. If it was some sort of scheme, it was working, for despite the incorrect answers, she was not scolded, was not corrected, was not punished. It confused Nala in a way. Was fear of punishment not the correct and easiest way to learn? It worked well when she taught slaves to work, and her mother had taught her a great number of things out of fear of facing her wrath should she say the wrong answer or have an unorthodox solution to a problem. Her heart lightened as Fiora returned to her seat, smiling and giving her a wink. “You did well,” she whispered, feeling like she might be able to be less cautious with getting the wrong answers. Perhaps discovering the correct answer was a better way to learn than being punished for saying anything other than the right thing. In a flurry and with newfound confidence Nala raced, nabbing tools off the little rack in front of her and comparing it to the marks made in the block with haste. She didn’t need the fits to be perfect, simply for them to make sense. So when she was called upon and was in the middle of matching knives and scrapers to the various scratches in the wood, she jumped, startled. She dropped one of the knives, which buried its tip in the wooden table before clattering down onto its surface. If one didn’t know her very well, it would seem as if she simply had no shame. Despite her mistakes, she was still a Rajor, and had to maintain an air of pride and meaning in all she did. But anyone who truly knew her could sense she was embarrassed, the stone wall façade a defense mechanism against any who dared snicker at the dhani. “I believe…” she began, looking down at the tools as she picked up the block. “I believe that Fi usssed this,” she presented a small sharp hook for all to see, “for the linesss that ssstutter acrosssss the sssurfaccce. But the clearer linesss here,” she indicated the jagged zig-zags that she thought were simply genious “were made by a larger inssstrument. Perhapsss either of thessse.” She held up two similar knives with wicked blades, covered in tiny wood shavings from when she had tried to replicate Fi’s art. It seemed silly now, and she wondered if Fiora felt the same way about her artwork. Maybe beauty was all in the eye of the beholder. My my, I’m feeling philosophical today, she thought to herself. “But…to be honessst I cannot be sssure. The linesss are ssso fine I could hardly tell.” She smiled and turned to Fiora. “They look very niccce. Your level of detail isss ssspectacular.”

[Inari Lorak]

Inari clapped with glee, not minding if her enthusiasm caused further bewilderment from her students. "Ohh, yes, splendid! Such ingenuity, such open-minded humility--some of the best ingredients for creativity. Very well done, Nala! " If it was not evident before, it most certainly was now that the carving teacher had not the slightest interest in technical perfection. Everyone sitting in a desk was equally dreadful with their tools, with the possible exception of Lorin, but each also clearly possessed a strength. It was, Inari believed, her job to show them that strength and to encourage them to rely on it whenever possible. After all, what good was a skill or talent without the motivation to use it? For one wistful moment, the Lorak remembered the first time she carved. She hadn't even touched a wood block yet; she was too young to handle knives, so she did it all in her mind. Granddaddy merely asked her day after day what she would make if she were allowed. Seeing no point in limiting herself, as it was all imaginary, she rattled off one bizarre idea after another, until she was answering with things like "a man with a rat's body" and "a moon made of cheese." When the day came for her to find a knife in one hand and a block in the other, she had begun whittling right away with minimal guidance from Granddaddy, not a single shred of self-doubt left in her small bones. It didn't matter that she was no good at first; she simply had too many ideas crammed in her little head, and they needed to come out. "Well, now that we've gotten a nice, solid start," Inari announced with a huff, planting her fists on her hips, "it's time for the serious business to begin. Everyone, pick up your basic carving knife. We'll be practicing elementary techniques, starting with how to most efficiently and effectively round the edges of your blocks, while ensuring each and every one of us follows the safety precautions. Gloves on, tables clean, eyes on your fingers!" Inari sat at her own desk, which faced the rest of the work space, put on her gloves, and started demonstrating the best way to begin rounding the edges of a block to create a cylindrical shape. Normally, she preferred to feel the grain of the wood when she worked, but for her lessons she did everything she expected her students to do. Well, it couldn't all be fun and games now could it? "Geric, I see you trying to flick one more wood chip at Lorin and I will personally watch you eat the rest on your desk. Which is a mess, might I add." "Sorry, professor," the red haired boy promptly responded, his demeanor suddenly transformed into the very paragon of obedience and piety. Inari squinted at him, decided it wasn't worth the time to threaten him more, then went back to her demonstrations. He had taken to calling her that ridiculous title since his first lesson and could not be discouraged from using it. "Always carve away from yourself, like this. You can steady your hand by putting your thumb down while you slice at the wood, almost like peeling an apple. There's no rush, so do it patiently. You don't want to chop off too much before the right shape becomes apparent to you. Don't worry about that yet, though--you'll understand what I mean in time" For their first real project, Inari had them carve their blocks into rough cylinders, then attempt to shape them into an hourglass. They would also have sand paper at the end to polish and round the surface as much as possible, but for now their sole tool was the basic carving knife. The Lorak put down her tools as her students began, and she paced around the tables every now and then, seeing if anyone needed any assistance. Geric asked once if she could show him proper technique by guiding his hand. "So I can feel the skill of a true master channeling through me, of course," he said, to which Inari responded by swapping his half-finished block with a new one. More practice, she explained, equaled better technique. There was no such thing as proper. And on she moved, peering discreetly over hunched shoulders to see what Fi and Nala were up to.

[Fiora Radacke]

Fiora When Nala told her she had done well, Fiora snorted quietly, knowing that she had maybe chosen the correct tool once or twice out of ten times. And then that was probably only because of luck. The much more confident Dhani stood and prepared to speak about Fiora's blocks. Unlike the Benshira, Nala always carried herself with a straight back and high head. She was so bold and self-assured, and when she began to talk, her voice was strong and clear where Fiora's had been soft and meek. She was thrown off guard as Nala complimented her work, concerned that her friend's eyesight might be fading. Was she teasing Fiora? Or did she really have so little know how about woodcarving that she couldn't see the obvious lack of talent in the skill that the Radacke displayed? Giving Nala a little smirk, she congratulated her on the presentation she had just completed. It had made Inari so proud, which must mean Nala had gotten a lot of correct answers. Their teacher seemed lost in her thoughts for a while and Fiora played with one of Nala's blocks, running her fingertips over the grooves. When the Lorak prompted them to try some rounding techniques, she pushed the small pieces of wood away from her and took up a pair of gloves. As she slipped them onto her hands, she watched Ari's demonstration carefully. Her friend made it look so easy, but Fiora knew there was not a polar bear's chance in Kenash that she could emulate the same shape on her own cube. The two young men were goofing off and Fiora smiled at them. Though they were probably close to her own age, they reminded her of her young children and she hoped that they were having fun with Mal back at Whiplash. Seeing that every other student, including Nala and the boys had started to carve again, Fiora picked up her knife and began to slice away at the corners of a new block of wood. After a dozen chimes or so, she glanced over at Nala's work. The Dhani had chipped away half of her wood, making her hourglass thin and very curvy, while the spot on the table beneath Fiora held only a tiny amount of sawdust. Her corners were barely rounded and the sides were only slightly dipping inward, her hourglass shape very squat and rotund indeed. Plus, the sides didn't even match up very well and some of the corners were more rounded than the others. It was a mess. Fiora set her stocky hourglass next to Nala's symmetrical, stately one and waited for the Dhani to make eye contact with her. When Nala raised her eyelids, the Benshira began giggling softly. She had bungled this exercise so badly that she was no longer embarrassed, she was rather willing to make fun of herself. Hearing a rustling behind her, Fiora twisted her neck to see Inari standing behind the two of them, and her chuckles increased.

[Nalahessarajor]

Nala smiled as Fiora complemented her presentation, though to her it was nothing special. She sat beside her friend, brushing the wood shavings off her silk skirts and smirking at Inari as she began to lecture again. Brushing her desk area clean of wood shavings and slipping on gloves of her own, she picked up one of her untouched blocks and began cutting away at it, as Inari instructed. Cut away from yourself. Make the curves rounded, not sharp. Don’t cut off too much. Thumb down. Peel like an apple. She repeated the mantras in her mind over and over, until she began to realize that she’d never actually gone through the trouble of peeling an apple. She blinked in confusion, looking around to see what others were doing in order to get a better sense of her own work. The boys a few stations ahead of her were goofing off, and Nala could hear Fiora giggling quietly to her left as she observed the duo. One was flicking wood chips into the eyes of another, the quiet nervous one from before, who was honestly trying to work. Though Nala pitied the boy, she was unsure why he wasn’t standing up for himself. That sort of thing, submitting so such a trivial opposition, made Nala ever more curious about the human psyche. Did they forsake being strong on purpose in order to create harmony between them? Was not standing up for himself not the reason continued, causing further disruption? Thankfully, Inari stepped in before things could get out of hand. Her eyes flicked over to Fiora with a smirk, chuckling at the comical way Inari had handled the miscreant. However, she had work to do, and she was determined not to fail as badly as she had in the previous exercise. She narrowed her focus, attacking the wood with solid strokes. She had trouble curving the lines, and her carving ended up slender but blocky. She had to take sandpaper to it for what seemed like 10 chimes before it resembled an hourglass in shape, though Nala was proud to say it was closer to her intended outcome than the previous activity’s results. Fiora set her hourglass next to Nala’s, hers short and fat in comparison, though it looked much less fragile. She could feel the Bull’s eyes on her, and met them with a mischievous grin on her face. When the girl began to giggle, Nala couldn’t help but follow for reasons she couldn’t understand. This was funny, but why? Perhaps it was simply the euphoria of being with people who seemed to truly care about her, all trudging through a task none of them understood very well, all of them making similar mistakes and having similar difficulties. As Inari peered over their shoulders, Nala laughed harder, picking up the two hourglasses to show their esteemed teacher what they’d done. However, as the blocks got closer to Inari’s face, Nala’s grip slipped on her own hourglass and it snapped down the center, creating what looked like two enormous dollops of molasses carved from wood. Nala simply couldn’t help herself, not beginning to laugh so hard she could barely breathe. Desperately she sucked air through the only place available to her, her nose. In a very unladylike fashion, Nalahessarajor snorted.