Hello Dolly
Scene Name: Hello Dolly
Date & Time: 02.01.2011 - Day
Characters: Aodh and November

Aurora Square

The square, in truth, is actually a circular-shaped plaza. A stage of rings begins with a simple granite statue in the "square's" center, the chiseled stone crafted to depict an immense serpent, his hooded headed reared above the coiled spiral of his lower body while crystalline water spills from his mouth to pour over gray-stone scales with a soft sheen. The next ring is of lacquered wood, five benches in total positioned with their backs to the fountain so that in their entirety they can look upon the entire plaza. The square's grounds are nearly filled with passage-worn cobblestones in every hue of gray, offering a supporting path in all elements of weather and time.

In all the simple ashen-hue of the plaza, a border of vibrant emerald demands attention. Trees shade the grass below in their wind-wavered shadows, filling the square with the warm aroma of life and foliage. Lastly, a short wall of fitted, flat stones marks the plaza's boundaries, a few more darkly-hued, iron fasted benches spattered along it's edge, immersed in the comfortable shadows of the towering oak trees.

The soft breeze whispers through the trees, carrying the clouds overhead in a lazy drift when…POP!
Where nothing had been a moment before, now stands November. The golden, slender finger stands perfectly straight with her arms adjusted at a subtle angle out to either side of her body, fingers splayed, and eyes closed.

For a long moment the woman stands as such, still and apparently unphased by her sudden existence here. One after the other, she opens her eyes, revealing that hazel brilliance to any that stop to look. "Did I fall asleep?" she inquires to know one in particular, soft lips drawing up into and even softer smile as she looks around her.

The large figure of Aodh stands over one of the benches, the Forge Master studying the iron workings that went into its crafting. His hands hold his sash, the end used to wipe away a bit of soot that still clung to his skin, when that loud POP! drags him out of his reverie. It takes a moment; his eyebrows knit up closer together, his lips curve into a faint frown, and finally he has no choice but to conclude he is the one that must answer her. "You are not asleep now, no. You might have been before. You are now within the realm of Duat, lady." Turning away from the bench, Aodh squares his body to face November, and it takes but a moment before his feet pick up, starting to take him towards the golden skinned beauty.

"Duat," November confirms without questioning or concern. She draws her chin up and her eyes roam the lay of square in a perusing study of its arrangement. With a care that would try most individual's patience, she shuffles one, twice, and more to take in the full view around her. By the time she has completed her steady circlet, she turns back to find Aodh. "It is beautiful here," she states, revealing her tones to be a soothing, honey-alto that seems only fitting to match the warm aura of her appearance.
"I am November." She cants her head gently to the side, making no effort to dismiss the waves of golden locks that dance across her face. "What is your name?"

Aodh's neck cranes forward an inch, giving a quizical cant to his head as he studies the woman before him. There is a moment, an all too instinctual, primal moment where his gaze lowers to soak in her curves and outfit, a stir of motion coming in those sky blue eyes like turbulence in clouds. Whatever thought flickered to life in the man is pierced by her voice, using the repetition as a way to steady his thought. "November." Tongue dipping out, another step forward is offered to bring him within arms reach, about the perfect 'conversational' distance between the pair that could be granted. "I am Aodh. You wear a collar. I assume you were a slave from where you came from? This is the meaning of a collar such as yours, in this place."

A soft, delicate hand lifts, setting fingertips in a gentle dance along the curvature of the unique collar around November's throat. "Slave…" The soft lines of her brows knit nearer, drawing an endearing wrinkle just above the shallow slope of her nose, as she seems to ponder her known definition of this word.
"Yes," she begins hesitantly, only to bob her head in a few soft nods that seem to encourage her ultimate evaluation of the question at hand. "Yes, I am a slave. I always try to be my best, and am always what people want me to be," she explains matter-of-factly, her smile returning with an untested ease. "What are you?" she inquires gently, lifting a hand out and up towards Aodh, attempting to draw her soft, warm fingertip down the contours of his visage.

It is the attempted touch that draws the rapid response from the man. Just as the soft pad of her fingertip comes to rest upon his cheek, the warmth of the fellow like a jungle in heat, his hand pops up far quicker than one would give credit to the smith. It wraps around her wrist to try and take control of the appendage, quickly tugging it away as if he was certain the girl was trying to kill him through kindness.
Aodh's brow furrows, lines appearing in his forehead, that hand still held and the finger watched like a hawk. "I man the forge, here in this realm. Weapons, armor, shackles and chains are made by my hand, to ensure the work of Duat flows uninterrupetd." Cautiously, those eyes droop lower to the medallion, the metal continually catching the mans eye and interest, a curiousity that seems to only gnaw and grow upon the man. "You will need to be processed. Housed. Kept. Until someone purchases you for some use, November. It sounds like you have already been trained, as a slave."

There is no instinct of defense, no program that tries to wrench the slender appendage from the larger man's grip. Not a jolt, not a shiver, not a right mind to even inspire fear. She simply turns her head enough to regard the tip lace of thick, hot fingers around her wrist with a blank stare. "I scared you," she comments simply, as if the series of events had been a simple, mathematical equation that could lead to no other explanation. She looks back to Aodh and her brows lift slightly. "I am sorry."
The slender femme cants her head to the other side. "Will you process me? House me? Keep me?" she inquires without wavering from that pleasant and soothing tone. Her free hand tips thumb and forefinger into the wide belt around her waist, withdrawing to reveal a small, silvery pouch. "You will need these." As she extends the bag, the soft sounds of metal grinding on light metal emanate through its fabric.

"Hey, look lady, I'm not exactly in the market for-" His words cut off abruptly as her free hand lowers to the belt, and once more that primal thread of curiousity and interest is aroused in the man. It can be felt by the faint tightening of his grip around her wrist, the hand lowering though not yet relinquishing the limb as if uncertain she'll attempt to caress again. It's the pouch that has his rapt fascination, before he reaches forward to take it with his free hand.
"What is this?" Even as he asks, he let's go of the grip, both hands used to carefully open up the pouch and peer inside at the contents that are held within. "My life is the forge, lady. Do you have any worth while skills that would help me in my work? The skills of a jewelcrafter, or a salesman? I can't just be taking things in at random.." The words are far too absent to have the full weight of belief behind them yet, for Aodh stares down, trying to piece together whatever it is that is within the pouch.

"I can be whatever you want me to be…" she says again, tone rich with patience and understanding, despite having repeated herself. November steps forward, closing the distance between them into an inappropriately small degree, though that fact seems totally lost on her as she draws up to tiptoe and points into the back with her forefinger. This, accompanied by a bright smile, appears to be her only explanation.

Within the small bag is a numerous amount of unique, diamond shaped, metallic pieces. Each is set with at simple jewel at its front center, though the color and nature of the gems themselves vary in a rainbow of colors. The back of each metallic piece shines and winks with a curious layout of microchips on one half, and a numeric barcode on the other. If one is observant enough, considering how taken he might have been with her collar previously, it is easy enough to recognize the shape of these items matches the void in the medallion of the young woman's collar.

The array of jeweled chips are studied, the man's lips pursing together. At first, he all together misses that step forward she takes, until his eyes flicker up to put his surmise that they fit into the medallion to a visual inspection, and instead finds her face all up close and personal. A quick, half step back is taken, the bag tugged up closer against his chest. "I know that is what you said, lady. Doesn't really explain much…"
Aodh certainly has no understanding of barcodes, their meaning or purpose. But he surely is keen on exploration and puzzles. His fingers pluck a deep saphire colored chip out of the bag before closing the sack up, and then reaches out to the medallion. It takes him but a moment to slip it in place, or at least what he thinks is correct, and then all of his attention turns to the collar, presuming this is where he'd see the results.

November leans back, hazel eyes crossing near the bridge of her nose as she looks down to follow the progression of the diamond-shaped microchip towards her person. Somewhere in her subconscious a little warning light does nothing more than make her eyes grow subtly wider. Still, she addresses the man: "I am just trying to hel-…" The chip slides into place without hitch, a snug fit that holds the polished, sapphire face in winking beauty at the front of the girl's collar.

November shudders once, blinks twice, and pauses only a moment before…
She squints at Aodh and runs her hand up her nose, as if trying to push into place spectacles that are obviously not present. She startles a bit and looks down at her empty hand before searching the ground around her. "Where are my glasses?" That sweet, honey tone is laced with a thick accent of polished intelligence and pronunciation now, and is further tainted by a programmed concern for the wellbeing of her nonexistent reading glasses. "Did I leave them in the lab again?" She spins around and jumps back a half step as she finally notices Aodh. "Oh, well. Hello there, sir." She offers nervous, twittering chuckle and blushes instantly.

As the girl jerks to life like she's been reborn, Aodh takes another step back, confusion plainly painted in his face. His eyes shift first to the left, and then to the right like a boy preparing to steal from the cookie jar, making certain no one saw him break this human and hold him guilty for it all. "Lady," The rumbling, earthen tone holds an air of disbelief, "you are fucked up."
The conclusion drawn, Aodh inhales a deep breath before, like the bellows of a forge, it is let out in one big gust. There is a certain literal interpretation he takes, just like the sign 'You Break It, You Bought It' that is hung in his store. "You do not have glasses. You will come with me, and I will determine how best to fix you. One of these surely houses the right part." A brief frown comes, and once more the elemental reaches out for the medallion, testing to see if the gem will pop free.

November leans forward slightly, soft lips parting as she plainly gawks at Aodh. She blinks hurriedly and shakes her head. "There is no need for that sort of language sir. I mean really, you…" The tan beauty lifts her arms, eyes growing wide as Aodh reaches out towards. "What are you-…? Don't you lay a hand on m-…"
Click! With a little persuasion the jeweled microchip falls free, once more leaving a void in the silver collar and, apparently, in November's mind… The slender woman blinks a few times as her startled expression gives way to that blissful ignorance of moments before. "Hello again, Aodh. Did I fall asleep?" She bats her eyelashes a few times.

Blink. The eyelids fall shut over the sky blue depths of Aodh's gaze, before slowly the man opens it again, certain he must be the one asleep. Yet, there is November, the gorgeous woman still standing before him as if the small scene didn't occur at all. "This is going to take weeks." With no warning, his hand lifts up, and the large grasp tries to palm the girls face, to use it as a grip as sure as any leash. "Come on, lady. You weren't asleep. You were all… I don't even know how to describe it. I need my dictionary."
Those words are offered quite honsetly, and Aodh turns, looking off down the street to where, in the distance, the smoke of the forge can be seen billowing out lazily into the sky. "First thing we have to do is make sure you don't just go wondering off or end up in random homes without knowing whats going on. What do you eat, November?" That question brings to light a flicker of annoyance, not at the girl but at the flood of thoughts it appears to bring to the man, all of the small, little things he is going to need ensure are taken care of.

"What will take weeks? A project? Can I help?" November grins, but the expression becomes squished and awkward, giving her a pouty-lipped fish-face as Aodh's larger hand takes hold of her visage. Still, she keeps up the easy effort of an attempted smile.
"I like strawberries," she states simply, shuffling forward a pace or two to reclaim some of the distance lost during her 'nap time'. Her skirt flitters around her bare thighs as a soft breeze picks up her hair into an easy dance behind her.

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