ArchivedLogs:Tooth Fairy

Tooth Fairy
Dramatis Personae Flicker, Isra	2015-02-10 "Fairies are terrifying. Traditionally."
Location <NYC> Harbor Commons - Makerspace - Lower East Side
It isn't huge in this workshop, but it's well-ventilated and well-equipped. Like the Common house, this building -- small and shedlike and tucked off to a side of the courtyard -- is accessible to Commons residents via their electronic keycards. Stocked with plentiful tools for all kinds of workmanship, it has a small number of workspaces along the side of the room with a fair amount of open floorspace that can be repurposed as needed. In different corners there are a couple more specialized sections -- one front corner has been walled off into its own darkroom, and farthest off in back, cordoned off and thankfully left empty when not in use, is a squat furnace with a tendency to look like a pot of glowing lava when it is filled with molten glass. It will soon enough be time for Game Night, but -- not *quite* yet. A more sedate lower-key game night than usual, not an *excess* of people coming over with Flicker a bundle of applying-to-med-school stress and Hive still -- not. But there *is* going to be a game night tonight and in that things are Sort Of back to normal. Probably Flicker should be at his house, helping out with the cleanup or food-gathering but instead he's here -- maybe he's forgotten what time it is. It seems likely enough he's forgotten, quite absorbed just right now over in the woodshop. The grind of a sander whirs as he polishes the edges on a few stacked planks of wood, goggles on his eyes and his muscles tensed up as he works. Isra sweeps in, looking faintly ominous in the heavy black cloak that disguises the odd physiology of her legs but not her inhumanly smooth gait. Stopping at a safe distance from the machinery, she pushes the hood back off of her horns and unhooks the front of the cloak, far too warm for any extended excursion into climate controlled territory. Beneath she wears a sky blue wrap tunic trimmed in darker blue satin and a matching skirt. Her skin, an improbable-looking green-and-purple duochrome this week, bears fine traceries of silvery blue in frost patterns that, at a glance, might pass for actual ice. "Good afternoon," she says once the motor stops. "Preparations for Game Night are underway--in case you lost track of time." She hefts the 'Property of Cornell University Astronomy' canvas tote she had slung over one shoulder as if by way of illustration. "Though I do not suggest that you have any obligation to drop what you are doing." Her eyes skim over the pieces he has set aside appraisingly. Flicker looks a bit startled as he glances up. Eyes wide behind his goggles. It dissolves into a smile quickly, though. Big. Warm. "Woah. I like the ice. -- Huh." Briefly his expression shifts, contemplative; he shakes it off soon. "Effect'd make a neat Jack Frost costume. Uh -- woah. What time /is/ it?" He answers his own question after turning off his sander, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Brows lifting. "Wow. Think I did lose track. Gets nice in here, you know?" He gestures to the wood, then to a few more pieces already cut and loosely confederated into a prototype frame. "Making a new futon for the Treehaus. Kind of experimental?" "The house isn't so much of a wreck that we couldn't make it presentable without you, but I figured I may as well check in." One corner of Isra's mouth quirks up. "Funny you should mention Jack Frost; Tag said the same thing when I asked him to add that effect. I don't know if I would look quite right in such a costume, though. I have a terrible time getting wigs to lie right." She picks up one of the pieces, turns it over in her hand. "Most of my fabrication is 3D-printed now, but there is certainly an artistry to this. Experimental how?" "I'm trying to make it wing-friendly when it's a couch. It still needs to fold out to fit the full mattress, though. Experimental because making that shift in the transition is a little unusual." Flicker's head shakes. "The futon in there now sucks, though. I mean, for --" His mechanical hand waves towards Isra's wings. "You could be the Tooth Fairy." His smile here brightens again. "Jax was on Halloween and he doesn't /have/ wings. You'd be better. With some glitter." "Ah, very good." Isra nods and sets the plank back down. "I do so love furniture that I needn't twist myself into." Her wings mantle out--the membranes bear a much denser pattern of ice-blue frost. "I expect I could be the most terrifying Tooth Fairy and reduce small children to tears at a glance." This bemused, with a fangy smile. "I suppose you have had too much else on your plate to contemplate any customs for convention-going this year?" "Fairies are terrifying. Traditionally. You'd rock it." Flicker tugs off his goggles. Reaches out for a water bottle to take a drink before pulling on a sweatshirt. "Dragon*Con was really fun last year but I haven't --" Briefly his smile slips away. Returns in short order. "Be nice to go again. Haven't thought about it much yet. Just be glad to get through this school year first." He tips the water bottle towards the door, brows hiking up. "Time to game?" "True enough, and I could get plenty of horrifying fairy design advice from Jax." Isra shoulders the canvas bag more securely and shrugs her wings back under the cloak, adjusting how it sits without using her hands at all. "I may go to Dragon*Con, as well, but we'll see. There'll be time to plan. As, now, indeed, is the time to game."