Chryseth Keenblaze

Chryseth leans against his workbench, eyes half-closed and either deep in thought or about to fall asleep standing up. Sooty's in his hair. Mm cozynest.

Corafel crunches on an apple and watches the door of the workshop. Her pose is relaxed, but her eyes are wary, ears alert.

Chryseth: [Thalassian] ...no, no Soot, I think you were r-right. It won't work if I align it like that, it'll j-just fry the power supply. Hmnf--- what, shh, n-nothing's wrong.

Chryseth soothes the suddenly agitated hatchy. Stranger danger! Alert! Here to steal the nest!

Corafel finishes the apple and slides off of her perch, tossing the core over her shoulder. She hesitates a moment longer, small frown twisting her lips. Then she nods and moves toward the door.

Chryseth paces over to kick the door open, leaning back with his hand on swordhilt. Paranoid little mage! The hatchy goes on making a minor racket from his hair, peering suspiciously at the stranger but making no move to leave his perch.

Corafel leaps back into a crouch, hands falling to her own hilts, eyes narrowed. "-Was- a little slow to knock. Still.. bit of an overreaction, don't ya think?"

Chryseth shrugs. His hand remains on his swordhilt and he looks her over critically before giving a proper answer. "D-dunno, depends on what sort of visitors one's expecting. Hadn't ordered takeout."

Corafel humphs, rising and brushing some dust from her leggings. "Thought 'Don't kill the messenger' was just a figure of speech. Didn't realize I needed to wear it on my lapel."

Chryseth wrinkles his nose. "Wasn't g-gonna kill you," he says. "Just didn't know if there were k-kids pranking again or what." He looks up and down the street and then returns his attention to her. "But g-guess not." And at that he sounds almost disappointed.

Chryseth: [Thalassian] What message you g-got?

Corafel: An invitation. My employer was interested in having a bit of a sit down and chat. Your choice as to the time and the place though he would vastly prefer if the guset list were kept minimal.

Chryseth draws back a bit at that, ears flicking uneasily. "Anything you c-care to tell me about your employer? Preferably, if you w-want me to say yes, anything that'll make me decide this isn't j-just some creep out to take advantage of a kid?" Yeah, some kid.

Corafel shrugs. "Don't know a terrible amount about him myself. He's a Magister and they're all a bit odd and paranoid. Came into some gizmo or other recently that just -fascinated- him." The eyeroll is implied in her voice despite her polite expression.

Corafel: Sent me on a bit of a hunt to find whoever made the thing. So here I am.

Chryseth holds onto the doorframe with one hand and leans, frowning. "M' n-not sure I'm interested in having a chat," he says after some thought. "If I didn't m-make it for him, I'd probably be sore at him for getting his hands on it to begin with."

Corafel nods. "Thought you might be of that opinion. Any messae in particular you would like me to return with your refusal?"

Chryseth hmms. Sooty echoes the sound, a soft low warble. He's still watching stranger-elf. "He shouldn't t-take other peoples' toys j-just because he wants em." Chry earflicks again, but he's smiling wryly now. Sad amusement, yes. "And if he tries to take it apart and it k-k-kills, maims, or otherwise damages him or his property, it's not my f-fault. Maybe I should send you back with a waiver."

Corafel smirks. "I'll just wait in the Inn while you draft one shall I?"

Chryseth shakes his head. "Nah, I g-got a limited liability form somewhere around h-here, I do contracting with..." He waves his hand and turns back to the workshop. "Handy to have one in a buncha languages!"

Corafel nods again, more understanding this time. "Ah yes." She leans back on her heels and glances around down the empty street. "Always best to have yourself covered."

Chryseth comes back armed with a parchment with, indeed, several different languages all saying the same thing. And a handy spot to sign one's name, affix a seal, all that good stuff. "It's self-duplicating," he says cheerfully, "j-just come back to me with the yellow copy if you would. For my files."

Corafel chuckles and takes the parchment, rolling it very carefully and slipping it into a case with several other rolled pages. "May be a job offer returning with me as well. I think that's what he wanted to have the sit down about."

Chryseth raises an eyebrow. Sooty chirps at her, rising intonation, and hops down to Chry's shoulder. "Job offer, huh. I'm a bit b-booked at the moment, Reliquary and -- other things. S'pose I'll see what it is if it g-gets here though."

Corafel smiles with a touch more warmth. "Till then, I suppose." She gives a small, almost mocking bow. "Pleasure doing business with you, Keenblaze. Thanks for not roasting me in my armor."

Chryseth laughs. "The k-kids and I have a war going on. That's all. It's their turn for the n-next sallay, I'd be careful walking down the hill f' I were you." He sounds rather fond though, and gives her a mocking bow in return. "Say, say, will you be in trouble on account of m-my being difficult?"

Corafel: My job was to find you and deliver the invitation. That's all. If I was meant to be delivering -you- willing or not, well... this would have been a very different conversation.

Chryseth frowns and draws back. Sooty makes room in his master's shirt for proper nesting. "Yeah," he says, suddenly not remotely friendly. "Yeah, it would."

Corafel chuckles and lifts her hands well away from her weapons. "No worries, 'kid'. " The last word smacks with irony, particularly since she can't be more than a decade older than he is. "Not enough coin on Azeroth to make me take that contract."

Chryseth: [Thalassian] Well, there's m-more than coin people will offer for jobs, you know. And some assholes are g-great at figuring out what one's price is.

Chryseth reaches up to pet Sooty.

Corafel shrugs. "Statement wasn't meant to be a threat, regardless."

Chryseth nods but doesn't seem very reassured. "If he's the sort who usually sends you on errands like that, you m-might want to get a new job," he says quietly. "Because one of these days..." A vague gesture and he looks away.

Corafel laughs, a short, bitter little bark. "Not many jobs around for the likes of me that -don't- have a 'one of these days..' attached to em somewhere. Least nothing that pays enough to live on."

Chryseth frowns. "W-well, you could always learn a useful trade! R-runesmithing and engineering seem to be in demand!" He's fakely cheerful there. Ha ha HA.

Corafel quirks a brow. "Looking for an apprentice are we?"

Chryseth laughs again, louder and even less mirthful than before. "Fel n-no, already got one. But I could make some n-nice brochures for Acherus Tech Schools, if they existed."

Corafel laughs and shakes her head. "Think I'll take the flavor of bloody death I already have coming in this line of work if it's all the same."

Chryseth: [Thalassian] F-fine. Be that way. Just know you've got choices, okay? I w-worked as a caravan guard for a while, done... other stuff for money. Anyway. Yeah, tell Master M-Magister I need that waiver signed or the device returned to my custody.

Chryseth ...doesn't seem to care if it's a wind-up broom he made as a kid, or a manabomb prototype, or what. ALL EQUALLY DANGEROUS.

Chryseth: [Thalassian] Oh, one l-last thing. What's your name? You've got mine.

Corafel smirks again and falls into a mocking parody of a courtly curtsy. "Cora Syn. At your service if the price is right."

Chryseth makes a thoughtful hmm. "I'll p-pass that on to some mates, never know who'll w-want to buy."

Corafel nods. "I have an office of sorts. Crossroads. If ever you need to find me, that's a decent place to start."

Chryseth: [Thalassian] N-not too far off. All right then. Suffer w-well, yeah?

Corafel replies "Selama ashal'anore." with a straight face and a mountain of bitter irony in her voice.

Chryseth snorts. Another Sooty-snuggle -- the hatchy peeks out at the stranger before hiding back inside the shirt -- and Chry offers a lazy salute. A Blade salute at that.

Corafel nods again, double checks that she has the scroll case securely strapped, and walks away.