Timestamp: 21st Day of Summer
Location: Maeki Cho's Animation Studio
Alses had paced the unprepossessing street three times before she found the place, each time scrutinizing the houses lining the leafy boulevard with greater care, hawkish eyes hunting, hunting, trying to find the elusive place she'd been assured – and by no less of a personage than Tian J'net herself – was here.
It was just that all the buildings looked fairly similar – at least as far as general form and function went; Lhavit's houses were fairly easy to spot, after a while. They were mostly made of pale stone and light, treated wood with a broad dome of skyglass forming the roof, with an occasional spire for variety or vanity. Alses had grown used to the fact that, in this most magical of cities, the sorcerers and sorceresses could enjoy the fruits of their labours to the full, and that meant a tide of kina rolled their way. Mages' residences, especially if their skills were hard-to-find, tended to be grander than most. The Towers and Elena Lariat's palatial estate were perhaps at the extreme of the curve, but nonetheless it was generally a reasonable assumption that the grandest house on a street belonged to a mage of one flavour or another.
Here, though, it was impossible to distinguish arcane from mundane – the only clue, on closer inspection, being a discreet (Alses' sharp eyes picked up the roughness of the edges, a slight wonkiness to the letters – homemade?) sign that proclaimed this dwelling to be the residence of one Maeki Cho, Lhavit's resident and only Animator.
Hmm.
It didn't look particularly grand, it had to be said – perhaps someone had moved the sign?
No, what would have been the point? This was the street she'd been told about; Tian had no reason to lie, after all. For all its outward plainness, perhaps Maeki had decided to lavish her attentions and wealth on the interior? As far as Alses had been able to determine (contrary to popular belief, every mage didn't know every other, especially in a city like Lhavit, where the djed-aware population was so large) by consulting the Wizard's Registry and talking to Chiona and a few other wizards, Maeki was the only animator in all the celestial city.
Rather a mystery, then, why she lived in such an...ordinary...dwelling. Still, hanging around on the street outside was no way to determine such things; what better way than to screw up the courage to knock and enquire?
Indecision warred with anticipation for a few ticks, before Alses rose above the spray of memories and concerns the moment had thrown up and walked briskly forwards, one hand upraised to knock.
The instant her knuckles met the wood – or perhaps a fraction of a tick beforehand, actually, a bell boomed in the depths of the house, the muffled sound nonetheless making itself known to Alses, standing nervously on the unassuming doorstep, frozen with surprise at the sudden sound – all she'd been expecting was the staccato rap of her own knuckles on the wood, after all.
There was a brief pause, during which the sonorous peals of the bell died away and Alses considered knocking again, before a muffled voice worked its way through the door: “With you in a chime!” There were various muted thumps and a crash before the door was thrown open with considerable energy.
“Yes?”
Even though the figure who emerged was comically short, childlike almost, Alses herself wasn't particularly tall (positively stunted, by the standards of her race). Maeki had brilliant, almost bone-white hair (Alses learned later that this was the result of a dye; the natural colour was a rich and glossy black, like so many Lhavitians) that tumbled down below her shoulders and her heart-shaped face sparkled with piercing blue eyes.
She was thin, too, although a voluminous furred overrobe hid the fact from a casual look, and the broad smile almost perpetually on her large mouth made her about as intimidating as the children she so closely resembled.
“Er...do we have the pleasure of addressing Maeki Cho?” Alses asked in her best formal manner, although the effect was ruined somewhat by the tentative, unsure tone.
“Speaking,” she replied cheerfully, and then her eyes flickered quickly over Alses and zeroed in on the Dusk Tower crest still pinned at her throat – a look of almost comical dismay fell across features that were evidently more used to a sunny smile. “Oh, you're from the Dusk Tower? It's the vault door, isn't it? I said I wasn't sure about the new rack-and-pinion anchor gear design; she's got stuck, hasn't she?” Maeki cast a glance back into her home and then turned back.
“If you'll give me a few chimes I'll be right over and sort her out.” A blazing smile, a return to good cheer after dismay. “To tell you the truth, I like the challenge.”
Without further ado, Maeki Cho vanished into the depths of her...home? Animation laboratory? Both? leaving Alses to peer in, nonplussed.
“Ma'am?” Alses didn't know why the more usual title of 'Lady' didn't spring to her lips – perhaps it was the relative ordinariness of Maeki's home. Then, louder: “Maeki Cho?”
“Just a tick!” came the distant, harried response.
This wasn't getting her anywhere; Alses filled her lungs and bellowed, to the best of her ability: “We're not from the Dusk Tower! I'm here in a private capacity!”
The echoes rolled inside, and probably some way through the street, as well, resulting in an immediate cessation of the distant movements and a hurried return. “Sorry!” Maeki exclaimed cheerfully. “Saw your crest and sort of assumed...come in, come in!”
Alses massaged her aching throat – she wasn't used to shouting – and thankfully stepped inside, looking around with curious eyes as Maeki swiftly shut the door behind her and ushered Alses further in.
It was, to be blunt, a mess – the pale floorboards shone bravely through clutter piled high on their uncomplaining backs, mounds of books and papers and the occasional lock-box. A few paintings and tapestries glimmered bravely high on the walls, and the odd piece of furniture – tallboys and the like – struggled desperately amid the piled-high odds and ends.
Maeki moved through the disorderly jumble with the ease and grace of long practice. Alses didn't have the benefit of time to teach her about the position of the piles – which she later learned shifted about every eight days, whenever Youichi Dawn came to visit and tidied up with a vengeance – and so stumbled and hopped along after her as best she was able, accruing a reasonable collection of bumps, scrapes and bruises from unexpected hard edges.
Her feet were aching, too, from the stress of stepping carefully, by the time Maeki led the way into a cluttered – but much clearer – kitchen, a well-lit space made rosy by reflected light from ranks of copper pans. A battle-scarred table, so large as to be almost outsized in the space, dominated, its honey-coloured wood exuding warmth and comfort and a sense of winter days curled around a hot pot of tea – although that last almost certainly came from her powerful auristics rather than any mundane sense.
“Tea?” came the bright question as she absently waved Alses into a seat, Maeki's diminutive form brandishing a copper kettle eagerly. “I have rosehip, lemon, bergamot, kariino...” she rattled off a long list, clearly from memory, without even glancing at the bunches of herbs and leaves dangling from slender chains overhead.
Location: Maeki Cho's Animation Studio
Alses had paced the unprepossessing street three times before she found the place, each time scrutinizing the houses lining the leafy boulevard with greater care, hawkish eyes hunting, hunting, trying to find the elusive place she'd been assured – and by no less of a personage than Tian J'net herself – was here.
It was just that all the buildings looked fairly similar – at least as far as general form and function went; Lhavit's houses were fairly easy to spot, after a while. They were mostly made of pale stone and light, treated wood with a broad dome of skyglass forming the roof, with an occasional spire for variety or vanity. Alses had grown used to the fact that, in this most magical of cities, the sorcerers and sorceresses could enjoy the fruits of their labours to the full, and that meant a tide of kina rolled their way. Mages' residences, especially if their skills were hard-to-find, tended to be grander than most. The Towers and Elena Lariat's palatial estate were perhaps at the extreme of the curve, but nonetheless it was generally a reasonable assumption that the grandest house on a street belonged to a mage of one flavour or another.
Here, though, it was impossible to distinguish arcane from mundane – the only clue, on closer inspection, being a discreet (Alses' sharp eyes picked up the roughness of the edges, a slight wonkiness to the letters – homemade?) sign that proclaimed this dwelling to be the residence of one Maeki Cho, Lhavit's resident and only Animator.
Hmm.
It didn't look particularly grand, it had to be said – perhaps someone had moved the sign?
No, what would have been the point? This was the street she'd been told about; Tian had no reason to lie, after all. For all its outward plainness, perhaps Maeki had decided to lavish her attentions and wealth on the interior? As far as Alses had been able to determine (contrary to popular belief, every mage didn't know every other, especially in a city like Lhavit, where the djed-aware population was so large) by consulting the Wizard's Registry and talking to Chiona and a few other wizards, Maeki was the only animator in all the celestial city.
Rather a mystery, then, why she lived in such an...ordinary...dwelling. Still, hanging around on the street outside was no way to determine such things; what better way than to screw up the courage to knock and enquire?
Indecision warred with anticipation for a few ticks, before Alses rose above the spray of memories and concerns the moment had thrown up and walked briskly forwards, one hand upraised to knock.
The instant her knuckles met the wood – or perhaps a fraction of a tick beforehand, actually, a bell boomed in the depths of the house, the muffled sound nonetheless making itself known to Alses, standing nervously on the unassuming doorstep, frozen with surprise at the sudden sound – all she'd been expecting was the staccato rap of her own knuckles on the wood, after all.
There was a brief pause, during which the sonorous peals of the bell died away and Alses considered knocking again, before a muffled voice worked its way through the door: “With you in a chime!” There were various muted thumps and a crash before the door was thrown open with considerable energy.
“Yes?”
Even though the figure who emerged was comically short, childlike almost, Alses herself wasn't particularly tall (positively stunted, by the standards of her race). Maeki had brilliant, almost bone-white hair (Alses learned later that this was the result of a dye; the natural colour was a rich and glossy black, like so many Lhavitians) that tumbled down below her shoulders and her heart-shaped face sparkled with piercing blue eyes.
She was thin, too, although a voluminous furred overrobe hid the fact from a casual look, and the broad smile almost perpetually on her large mouth made her about as intimidating as the children she so closely resembled.
“Er...do we have the pleasure of addressing Maeki Cho?” Alses asked in her best formal manner, although the effect was ruined somewhat by the tentative, unsure tone.
“Speaking,” she replied cheerfully, and then her eyes flickered quickly over Alses and zeroed in on the Dusk Tower crest still pinned at her throat – a look of almost comical dismay fell across features that were evidently more used to a sunny smile. “Oh, you're from the Dusk Tower? It's the vault door, isn't it? I said I wasn't sure about the new rack-and-pinion anchor gear design; she's got stuck, hasn't she?” Maeki cast a glance back into her home and then turned back.
“If you'll give me a few chimes I'll be right over and sort her out.” A blazing smile, a return to good cheer after dismay. “To tell you the truth, I like the challenge.”
Without further ado, Maeki Cho vanished into the depths of her...home? Animation laboratory? Both? leaving Alses to peer in, nonplussed.
“Ma'am?” Alses didn't know why the more usual title of 'Lady' didn't spring to her lips – perhaps it was the relative ordinariness of Maeki's home. Then, louder: “Maeki Cho?”
“Just a tick!” came the distant, harried response.
This wasn't getting her anywhere; Alses filled her lungs and bellowed, to the best of her ability: “We're not from the Dusk Tower! I'm here in a private capacity!”
The echoes rolled inside, and probably some way through the street, as well, resulting in an immediate cessation of the distant movements and a hurried return. “Sorry!” Maeki exclaimed cheerfully. “Saw your crest and sort of assumed...come in, come in!”
Alses massaged her aching throat – she wasn't used to shouting – and thankfully stepped inside, looking around with curious eyes as Maeki swiftly shut the door behind her and ushered Alses further in.
It was, to be blunt, a mess – the pale floorboards shone bravely through clutter piled high on their uncomplaining backs, mounds of books and papers and the occasional lock-box. A few paintings and tapestries glimmered bravely high on the walls, and the odd piece of furniture – tallboys and the like – struggled desperately amid the piled-high odds and ends.
Maeki moved through the disorderly jumble with the ease and grace of long practice. Alses didn't have the benefit of time to teach her about the position of the piles – which she later learned shifted about every eight days, whenever Youichi Dawn came to visit and tidied up with a vengeance – and so stumbled and hopped along after her as best she was able, accruing a reasonable collection of bumps, scrapes and bruises from unexpected hard edges.
Her feet were aching, too, from the stress of stepping carefully, by the time Maeki led the way into a cluttered – but much clearer – kitchen, a well-lit space made rosy by reflected light from ranks of copper pans. A battle-scarred table, so large as to be almost outsized in the space, dominated, its honey-coloured wood exuding warmth and comfort and a sense of winter days curled around a hot pot of tea – although that last almost certainly came from her powerful auristics rather than any mundane sense.
“Tea?” came the bright question as she absently waved Alses into a seat, Maeki's diminutive form brandishing a copper kettle eagerly. “I have rosehip, lemon, bergamot, kariino...” she rattled off a long list, clearly from memory, without even glancing at the bunches of herbs and leaves dangling from slender chains overhead.
