Binding of Spiritshards/ Soulsteel

[14:42]
"Is it everything that you imagined it would be?" she questions- expressing her own curiosity about the current state of 'Dawn'. "When I decided to rebuild it...I imagined that we wouldn't experience as much drama and more...happy days, like the old times." She pauses, if only for the moment. "As much as I would enjoy the past- I know that it's not something that we can return to. The island has hardened these children....These people. The laughter in times of stress kind just sort of died down." And now, it's replaced with this unreal amount of gloominess and 'straight-edge'. It makes her feel...Twisted, different, perhaps, nearly broken. In the end, she blames herself for instilling such behavior in them, after all..

Valmasia's isolationist attitude came from her own teachings of trusting no one and believing within your own 'survival instincts. Nevertheless, the woman would have simply shaken her head...Withdrawing the pieces of ore, shards, and spire shard from within her satchel...

"Although they're working towards something- I can't help but to feel as if everything that they do is rather...Fractured." She says, pausing in idle silence. "They simply do not care for one another...And it's harsh. Very harsh."
(Cho Grauhimmel)
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[14:57] "There was drama in those old times. It was just more familiar drama." With familiar people, and familiar problems. There were less strangers, less outsiders. Everyone was more tight knit. Nobody stabbed one another in the back. The aging Oscuri would remove his heavy jacket, draping it on a nearby coathanger. It would do nothing but get in the way of his work, after all.

"Those kids have had to get older a lot faster than we did. Have a lot more to deal with." Though that was far from true. It was nothing but war, in a different flavor. It never changed further from that. "But no. They lack unity. They need something to glue them together and make them strong, otherwise they'll all break and scatter. Too rigid. They don't bend, or flex, or-"

He caught himself a moment, already nearly indulging his mind into the work to come. "So. What is it that I'm doing, precisely? Making a...heart?"
(Dylerun Grauhimmel)
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[15:09]
"The drama back then was petty." She says, her head shaking from left to right. "From Brubecks fucking everything that stood to little arguments about people 'cheating' one another and throwing benches at their fellow beings...None of that ended in death." Although, Rilla most certainly would have died if Cho had seen her again...It still counts within the Grauhimmel's own favor. "I know that they did- and it's partially my own fault for pushing them in that direction. I thought that if they were opened to more of the hardships...If their eyes were opened a lot more sooner to the bloodshed, then they'd understand. But with that came the need for death. They don't care if they're in the middle of war, Dylerun. They care about getting even."
And to be quite honest, there are times when she couldn't blame them. Sometimes, the crimes against them are the most foul and heinous...But still, when it's something small like Chronos and Abbigail, which could have been avoided, she can do nothing more than shake her head. "I'm afraid that nothing will bind them together, Dylerun...Not even the creation of this statue. If I am to predict things.." she says, pausing.

"I imagine that this will end within their deaths. I imagine that they'll falter as individuals before anything else." She murmurs, before pausing silently, a mild frown appearing on her features.


"It'll be a centrifudge." she states. "We'll be encasing the spirit shards within the soul-steel for protection, and we'll have them orbit the spire shard in rotation...That way, it'll make the transferring of mana and the 'purification' of corrupted magics easier. Seems rather simple, yes?" Albeit, fragile.
(Cho Grauhimmel)
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[15:24] "People change. Its the awful inevitability of it all." And the two elders couldn't stop it. It didn't help that the person leading their small nation was a Chaos mage at the helm of a project that he still wasn't quite sure about. It didn't help the mans candor, the way he acted. He promoted it, the instigation amongst peers, instead of driving them together. Conflict, yes. Strength, always. But together, not apart.

It was so simple, but...

"We all die eventually. It all matters who is there for us when," A slight glance towards his wife as he paced around the small office, preparing a variety of tools, instruments for the coming work. "And when we rise again." Like he did. Others had such the potential, if they put themselves to it. Thesacrifice, and what continued afterwards.

"It seems simple, yes. But we'll see how it goes when we actually begin. Would you mind?..." Dylerun would take the materials from her, before gesturing towards the bellows. Expecting her to do physical labor?

Possibly.
(Dylerun Grauhimmel)
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[15:32]
It's another reason as to why she loathes reality so. The people that she once believed in- the times that she once looked forward to, are things that she thought that she could grasp once again. But expressing her disappointment within the Valmasian Generation of now would often come. And some could say that it's even wrong for her to do so- especially, if she holds them to the same standards of their grandfathers and mothers. In the end though, she should know better...That these children will always be pale afterimages...And even so, they'll still hold more potential than what the others have in the past. And it's her own job to lead them, to push them within the right direction.

"...Death?"

The word spills from her lips, the gentle frown soon replaced with a gentle smile. "Death doesn't exist in my world." Twisted and decadent, the woman felt the need to tell everyone that, "The difference between you and I and the rest of the world is this.." she says. "We will never fall. We will never die." She's yet to experience the true death...And although she had gotten so close to it several times, through some miracle, through some unforgiving, sadistic light... She found herself clinging to the living, to life...

Claws embedded deeply within the soul. Even now, the godliness of her own divinity shows, the breath of divinity, the sigh of shaking loose a mortal coil. " Very well then." A smile is given as she nods. "I imagine that you're going to lead me step by step, yes?-...As much of a creator I am, I'm not blacksmith. My hands aren't like yours." A smile.

"What do I do first, Dylerun?" she says, moving towards the Bellows in idle curiosity, clearly, clueless within this aspect.
(Cho Grauhimmel)
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[15:38] "Just another step into greatness." Death had been temporary for him, and though painstaking process, he no longer regretted his choice long ago. Perhaps with the line of events, it lead to what he was now. What they were now. A self sacrifice, one final one to push her and those enough over the edge to perfect their goals. Now if only he were capable of doing it more than once...

"You might want to put one of those on. And these." A leather apron would be produced and handed to her, and a large pair of work gloves. Likely, they wouldn't fit her, but they would protect her from the worst of the heat and the sparks. If she was worried about that, that is. "I just...need you to grab that, and pump it up and down. It'll heat the furnace, melt the soulsteel,and I'll be able to shape it. Sounds easy enough, right?"

Except even to the undying, it was taxing work. Sparks would fly forward, Dylerun uncaring as the ore would be deposited into the furnace, slowly beginning to heat a she would gesture towards the Kitsune. This kind of work was beneath her, but...work was work in his eye.
(Dylerun Grauhimmel)
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[15:46]
But how much greatness can one soul 'take'? She imagines that Dylerun's soul is moments from being shattered by her own greed and desire. Or perhaps, the twisted corruption is the very thing that bolsters her to this realm entirely. Could he become so irreversibly disgusting that even the lifestream would deny him? Could he become so tainted that even death would not want to take him from her?-… These thoughts, as twisted as they might seem, could possibly hold some sort of weight. But just having one soul go against the fabric of reality wasn't enough. She'd need more. She'd need...Divinity. While deep within her own thoughts, she'd grasp onto the apron and gloves...And although they're a little big for her, she simply nods silently..

"I've a question for you." She starts off, grasping at the bellow- pumping it up and down while she speaks. "I was wondering about you...How you're feeling, how you're body is feeling." she says. "I-...Know that I've made you perfect but, considering what Peacekeeper is going through, I simply want to double check." She tries to not distract herself from the task at hand by suddenly giving up a 'check-up'...But still..

"You don't feel the need to eat people-...Or perhaps, take mana from them, yes?" she adds. "And no sudden anger spells-...Or destruction?" If he's had episodes, he's done well in hiding them from her own vision. She imagines that when he does lose himself though, that it'd be terribly, terribly evident. After all...The destruction that a rift magi could bring is much more devastating than what her 'army' of skeletons could.
(Cho Grauhimmel)
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[16:01] In the light of the furnace mere inches from the mans face, a quizzical glance towards Cho at her questions. She was concerned- of course she was. Why wouldn't she be? A large pair of tongs would be produced, jiggling the metal a small bit, before he would speak. "I feel old. But thats what happens to bodies. No abnormal aches or pains, though. Just visual. Which isn't so bad. I kind of like it." The metal would be turned, an even heat required before the real work began.

"...No, I don't need to eat people. Or take their mana." He would stay silent however at the prospect of the 'anger'. Outlets were required, which was why his occupation was good. The heat, the strain, the force, helped channel that into something. It helped. Without it, he didn't know what he would do. "Not any angrier than any other old Oscuri." Of which there was just him. Even if he as a late bloomer, he still held a lid on it. But that just meant when the time came, he was ready, like a slow building thundercloud.

Tongs would grasp at the metal, now a long length of shining sparks that had been fused together. Casually it would be carried over to a nearby anvil, a large-headed hammer picked up in his hands as he proceeded to bang away at it. Sparks flew, and the properties of the soulsteel caused them to flicker and shimmer like chaff. They stayed in the air, before slowly fading away, as if returning back to the spirit realm.

"I'm going to need you to be ready with that spirit shard. Once this is sealed, it won't be easy to un-seal it." Slowly, the soulsteel would take its shape, hammering it into a small bubble that would be able to house the shards and interact with the materials needed.

The heat was stifling in the room as he would turn to clear his throat, tongue covered in ash and heat before continuing. "Now, please. Just lower it in slowly. Once the tip clicks onto the metal, I think it'll stick."
(Dylerun Grauhimmel)
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[16:11]
There's a silent pause. "There is some sort of beauty to being old, isn't there." She says silently. "I used to hate it when people would talk to me as if I were their grandmother. I always felt as if it were disrespectful but...As I've grown older and older, I think that I've come to embrace being an old 'witch' even more." There's a pause, images fluttering within her mind...The sweetest of wines, the multitude of things that get better with age...Things that cannot be touched by others who have just come into the world. In the end though, the woman merely nods.

"I guess it's all another sign of respect here and there." That is, until someone gets beside themselves, but-...Since the disappearance of Ostrava, she can't imagine that such has happened. With him leaving, along with Theo...She was almost sort of concerned. After all, people don't normally vanish...Or maybe, they had due to who they were attached to. Nevertheless, the woman merely nods..

"You act as if an Oscuri's rage is something small and unnoticeable." A pause. "The destruction I've seen some bring just because of their frustration is...Wild." They hurt others around them, and sometimes, even an outlet isn't enough. that much, could be seen within Frank, Abbigail, and Gideon- especially when they'd loom on the outskirts of other cities to antagonize their inhabitants. In the end though, the woman nods silently.

"I felt as if I've asked this before but- what made you become a blacksmith? IS it because of necessity or did you feel yourself being drawn to the steel and ore?...It almost comes natural to you." Steadily, easy-...She'd slowly place the spirit shards within their respective casing.


(Cho Grauhimmel)
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[16:24] Beauty in the grey hairs, the stories that Dylerun could tell. The armies he had once helped command, the battles and adventures he had gone on. The friends he had made, and more importantly, lost along the way. No, he desired to grow old, and he was glad that despite all the dangers, he could. What did it matter now that he didn't do much but sit on a bench and complain? He had been waging war since before most had been alive.

He earned that much.

"Young, untested, and stupid, yes. If you give a child a mana-gun, he's liable to blow his own foot off." He watched as the shard was slowly lowered into the casing. As it connected against the inner lining, a brief blue spark fizzled as the two spirited materials mingled. The spot would grow dull, and Dylerun would hurry briefly to enclose the rest of the spirit steel around the shard. "I get mad easier, but...I don't let that control me."

There had been times when he had. His temper had shattered cobblestones in the street, sundered buildings. Not any more. It was focused, controlled. At least, as focused as it could get before it was broken. "It did come naturally, but...I was going to be a merchant. Then a farmer. Then I did this." With nothing but a small hole at the very top, the soulsteel would meet its final shape. Shaped akin to an egg, the opening at the top would betray the dull color otherwise as he allowed it to cool for a moment, before lifting it and simply dropping it into a barrel. A deep hiss filling the air.

"You know how it was. Back then, we all had a role to fulfill. Everyone had to be useful, be a part of the machine. This was made to be my part, I guess..." Tongs would be placed aside, a small bit of soot and sweat wiped away from his brow. "...I dunno what I would have become if not this. Maybe just a soldier. Maybe I would have died. I'll never care to know."
(Dylerun Grauhimmel)
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[16:38]
She remember the times when she'd marvel at his rage. The times when she'd beg for him to show her the storm- to allow the thunder and lightning to break through the crowds. And she remembers when she had fell in love with him within the rain. The droplets being the millions of promises that she had forced him to take....The confessions of one love to another. In the end, no matter which extremity of emotion it had been, she had always wondered how far she could push him. And how car he might possibly go. But now, it is a different story. When she watches the decaying body of Sima Kang and the faltering of Peacekeeper....She does not praise them for their lack of inhibations, instead, it brings a modicum of concern. Atleast, whatever emotion she could muster up from being this dark, brooding persona.

Her love had become entirely selfish and twisted, dark...Promising to bring the Grauhimmel through hell and highwater in order to keep him by her side. In a way, it only proved that what little sanity she had- was kept within the rough hands of the man that assists her within her duties. For the amount of death and the sacrifice...Even the brush of divinity that houses her own soul speaks of so many promises and whispers. But to digress.

"It's funny to say that we've had similar paths. I never meant to be a fighter either...And I imagine that I'd hate myself if I knew what I'd turn into." But the thought of seeing a strong woman...The thought of seeing how she no longer hid behind the bodies of her guards would also bring an essence of pride. If she had not been betrayed by Jianghu...She wonders if she would have joined her brethren. She wonders...

If she would no longer be the only one left of their time and their people...For all of them have met terrible fates. "I think that there's one thing about you that'd always stick...Even when it's against the odds. Whether you would have turned out to be a soldier or a leader or anything of that nature...I don't think that you would have died. No. You're too stubborn for death." Or, maybe, she is.

"You've always been too good for it." For now, she'd move steadily- adjusting the apron upon her being before continuing her work. "Though, another thing-.." A pause. "How does it feel to know that you're almost the only one left from your time. With Sima vanishing and Peacekeeper nearly rotting away...I imagine that you're getting somewhat 'lonely', hmm?" Of course he isn't, after all, he was a hermit before...

And as far as she knew, as much as Dylerun loved his people- he also loved to be a part from there. No ordinary man would build a home at the top of mountains for no reason.
(Cho Grauhimmel)
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[16:53] Once, rage had all he had been. Rage and sadness and such overwhelming loneliness that he had wished for death. But that was another time, far too long ago in the depth of depression and war and half a dozen other awful things that had happened to him. Dylerun was far too resilient despite it all, far too strong of a survivor to allow such a thing to crush him again. Would Chos death, if it ever happened, effect him that way? Would he revert back to what he was?

He hoped not. If it ever happened.

"We were raised to be stubborn and never give up. If we did, we died. It was sort of a win-lose situation where you didn't really get to decide." He was a relic of a bygone era. Of hard work and death and waging constant war. There were still those things, but they numbered fewer than he would have thought. Hands would reach into the barrel of water, producing the cooled 'egg' of soulsteel, the spirit shard visible through the hole in the top. Dull, yet ebbing with potential, Dylerun would rest it on the nearby table.

Replicating it would be easily, fast work that wouldn't take him and Cho very long. Speaking as they worked, going through the motions as many times as needed. "How does it feel?" Peacekeeper, he wasn't close with. They were products of the same age, distant friends perhaps, but life had lead them in different directions. Sima...there was strife there. In the past, if the man had listened, things could have been different. Grudges were held, but the mans naivety yet surety in his actions made it hard. Like wanting to hate a child for not knowing something obvious, but how could they? They were never taught.

"I don't feel much in that regard. They all died, and I'm here. Wherever they are, I'm sure its better than Agartha." Their souls continuing the cycle, or if they simply burned out of existence. Whatever their choices were, he missed them. But it was far, far too late to bother trying to bring any of them back.

Sometimes, he missed the top of that mountain. Away from the noise and bustle and foolish children that plagued the streets. Some climbing to the peak to gain his council. Others there just to be sent away...no. The time was still the same. The situation, the same. Only the scenery that was different.
(Dylerun Grauhimmel)
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[17:05]
She wanted to be different. She wanted to love and be loved- and she wanted her passions to dictate her work within the best and worst way. And when she had set herself out to do something, she knew that she could get it done- because her life and the life of many others hanged upon that balance. Working days in and days out were a necessity to not become like the others that he had left behind. She would never want to see him weep for her just as he had wept for the others. She would never want him to destroy himself in hopes of joining her sooner than later...But even she knows that some things might not be as they'd expect. For while she expects much out of Dylerun in the event that her death happens, if he were to die, she knows that she'd become a loose cannon. That she'd revert to the paranoia and whispers and advancements that she once had. That she would work herself to death and to life and back to death in order to reclaim semblances of him within this world...And if that had not work, then she wouldn't want anything else within this world to be living. Chaos.

"That's not true. If it were, Silver-lake and those of krausite faith wouldn't exist. Everyone has a choice-...Some decisions are simply weaker than others. And sometimes, people follow weak-minded leaders...Just as half of our people followed Rilla and Tarquin Brubeck."

As cliché and annoying as it might be, it'd be the only time when she would resort to the coward's way and cling to such magics. She felt as if it were a crutch upon humanity...But she could not see herself reaching where she'd need to be without it, especially, in terms of resurrecting and reviving those that have fallen. Nevertheless, the woman would smile steadily...Watching him and his deft hands as she goes on.

"I don't think that I've ever told you, but I promise that I would see Ardent burned to ashes. I promised that I would kill each and every one of them that betrayed me and...Although I didn't end all of the lives I might have wanted, the ones that I did kill did make me feel some sort of way." A pause. "Yes...Life in this place isn't what I imagine. It isn't heaven, but it isn't hell either. I think it's a purgatory of some sort, where people rise and fall...Where strengths and wills are tested and people are sent within one direction or the other. I think-....That there is no better place than Agartha, Dylerun." A moment of silence is offered.

"Because in this place, I found you-...In this place, my dreams came true, and in this place, how else could we be so close to divinity?" She would move behind the Grauhimmel, carefully wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he works. "I used to hate everything about this island-...But I've learned that it's beautiful. And that I'm proud of it." A smile.

"After all that's happened, you don't regret anything...Do you?"
(Cho Grauhimmel)
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[17:18] No, perhaps some didn't follow that doctrine. Dylerun picked and chose which he followed, but the ones he did there was a steel rigidity to it. The colony first, personal gain later. Even in the midst of pain he had continued his duty to the people of Agartha, ever in pain during the time that Valmasia was almost burning once a week. It would cause him to shrug as the final spirited egg would be placed on the bench, the mans body covered in sweat and soot as he leaned against it lughtly.

"...You told me the day we watched Ardent burn together." Her promise. He had promised much the same, though none that wronged him. Simply the ones that had helped cause his nation to burn and his city that he had helped build with his bare hands crumble to ash. Dylerun watched as innocents were slaughtered and he had felt nothing for them simply due to their alignment. They knew what they had done, despite. They knew what war beast they had driven to anger.

And in their little purgatory, like mushrooms in the dark, they had grown. "When we look at one another, it makes it easy to say it isn't quite a hell, isn't it?" He disagreed with her in some regards, but he didn't voice it. She was right however about them finding one another. Sometimes...he wished he had waited. He wished he had found her first. Feeling her presence behind him, Dyleruns eyebrow would perk up slightly as he slowly turned, a thin smile creasing his face.

"...I almost lost you once. I would say I regret that, but I only would if you didn't bring me back. Other than that, no. I don't have any regrets. How could I?" A thumb would brush against her cheek, leaving a small line of soot on accident. Dylerun had to cough, covering his laugh half-heartedly.
(Dylerun Grauhimmel)
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[17:37]
She laughed that day. She laughed so hard that she cried. And although it might sound strange to most people- she felt as if a piece of her had died that day. The innocence that once brimmed with so much fervor and and respect for her own kind had vanished entirely. And the promise of rising a nation from the ashes had soon came true. She and Dylerun had done this- they brought Valmasia back, they saw to it that the nation would not forget them...But instead, would return and bring back reinforcements that should have came a long, long time ago. Even within this moment, she simply smiles...Perhaps, attempting to ignore the angel's sudden decision without sending a single notice or a message.

"...When I'm with you, it makes a lot of things easier to say." If he had found her first, she imagines that they would have already retired. IF he found her first, she imagines that he wouldn't be nearly as wounded or as heart...She would have stood for him and stood against those that treated him. And if the waves were rocked too hard, then she would have hid behind him just as she had done within the past.

It didn't matter then.

She was so frightful of everything that the motto had stuck within her mind. Hide away, run away, anything to live. Anything to make it back home. Being a courier and a blossoming political figure had made such come true. But the thing that stuck the most was learning from each of her experiences. From dancing to the beat of Zahhual's drums within Gehenna to defeating Effigy, Karma, and so many others-....She learned that the motto would be the death of her and instead, stuck to what she knew how to do best.

Love. There's a silence that comes about when she thinks of Dylerun's first death. The ears atop of her head flatten briefly as she remembers the bouts of delusion and rage...But most importantly, the times when their people allowed her to sink so low...Only to tell her that they would not protect her should another nation want to end her life. It was like walking on glass, but.

"I made a promise, didn't I?" she questions. "When we promised each other, I told you that I'd never leave and that you'd never lose me. I intend on fulfilling my end of the bargain...As long as you keep yours." Soot. How trivial. If only for the moment, would she indulge within these childish antics. Her hands would raise...fingertips wiping the 'soot' across the chin and cheek of the Grauhimmel, making a terrible mess.

"Though, next time you push me through a rift, I'll be sure to turn you into a snake." Sounds about right. He had a thing for eating eggs anyway.
(Cho Grauhimmel)
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[17:47] Many promises had been made. Dylerun managed to have kept all fo them but one, the most important. Yet, in an estranged way, he had. No, he hadn't been okay. And yes, he had died that day. Yet he has been brought back. In a strange way, was it like he had ever died? There are days where he thinks, no. It was just a bad dream, the ashen taste in his mouth. The pain of bones being christened to stone as he crumpled. There are days where it didn't quite seem real.

But he knew that it was. Woefully so, he had driven her into darkness, breaking his promise, and shattering the trust he had made. It had taken a long while to rebuild it, and they had lived better for it perhaps. It transcended life, bodies, and the torturous things that the duo have had to endure. Even as she scribbled acrossed his face, a hand would drop to her hip for a moment, the man scoffing.

"Oh, what, so I'll be like Eiphraem?" Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. He enjoyed snakes. They were resilient creatures, capable of poisoning and crushing their foes. They could adapt to surroundings. They shed their skins, living in different yet same bodies. Perhaps he had more in common with a snake no than he ever had before. Fingers would tap gently against her hip, before he would motion with a thumb behind him at the completed orbs.

"There anything else you need me to get my hands on, or do you think that will be enough for the angel?"
(Dylerun Grauhimmel)
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[18:11]
I killed someone. His death was a catalyst for many things within her life. And although it had broken her within the worst way- it wasn't the sole reason that she has turned out the way that she has. Between the verbal and physical abuse of her peers- both Jianghean and Valmasian like -she snapped. All she remembers were the days of lonesome...Where she sat upon the edge of his single bed and awaited his return. Or perhaps, the times when she kept pieces of him close because the scent of oil, 'gunk', and ore were the only things that made her feel at home. IT was all so strange. And in the end, it all felt as if it were a dream.

Even if it isn't.

"It'd be pointless, you're already a snake." She toys with his features, soot and ash pressing lightly upon his chin, fingertips steadily easing to his neck, swirling, as if she were drawing runes upon his very flesh. "You've poisoned people, you've attacked them, and you've even hid in the brush." She smiles briefly, referring to the time when she had first gotten captured by the Valmasians and he-...Just so happened to be one of the five that were hidden behind the tree. "Now all that's left of you to do is slither and hiss." It's true though..

He's a snake. Deceptive, cunning...Able to shed impurities and yet, remain himself through and through. In the end, there is envy when she looks him within his single eye. "And if you were like Eiphraem, I imagine that you'd be twice the Archon that he is now." No, she knows that he would. People wouldn't receive the petty mercy that Eiphraem gives...

Instead, he'd devour them whole. "But that's something that I'd only do if you truly wanted it." She leans forward, pressinga single- gentle kiss against his lips. "I've no more work for you to do now...Perhaps, there'll be another time that I'll call for you." And another. "You and your hands can rest for now. We should probably return to the city soon before those children kill each other."
(Cho Grauhimmel)