A
Anguissette
Guest
Original poster
In the days that followed, Aisling saw very little of Corbett and he of her.
For the first Aisling was utterly focused on completing her design. The core mechanism worked with the new parts she'd gotten stabbed over, but she wasn't satisfied with that. Using tweezers and an eyeglass to embed each carefully fashioned brass feather into its own tiny coil of wire, she fledged the starling and placed a small tube of greasy silver up inside its head.
Finally she melted the wax almost off the bauble and sealed up its chest piece with an angular brass plate she fastened into place with minute screws, and set it on its perch. After a few seconds its talons clamped down on the stand and it stood independently.
On the second day Aisling went out with a hooded cage in hand, making her way through the narrow streets of Pariah's Bay to her contact at the edge of the merchant's district. Harry Singer wasn't the most reputable of tradesmen and he never questioned where the marvelous golden birds came from, only urging her to find more. Faster. He certainly never gave her a fair price for the automata, reserving the lion's share of the profits for himself after he fashioned a false bill of sale and sold it to the wealthy traders closer to the Center - or sometimes even the Skybound merchants themselves!
Most folks of ambition had a plan for how they would get to the Sky in their lifetime, and making obscene money was a key part of his. Leaving the merchant to congratulate himself, the stray tinker lady returned to the streets only to spy Corbett watching her steadily. The look she gave him should by rights have ignited him instantly. Instead she felt him watching her all the way home, though she refused to dignify his highhandedness with her attention.
On the third day Aisling went to the apartment at the other end of the block and bought a door. The creaky door from the front of their apartment specifically, along with the man of the apartment's drunken assistance in holding it in place while she replaced the hinges. The work was complicated somewhat by a clash of personalities, although she kept a wary eye on him to be sure he had no ideas about compromising her station. F
inally with the door in place and the lock socketed into the wood, Aisling paid the man and waved him away - and disappeared within. It wasn't until two of the clock that she reappeared in the hallway and made her way directly across to her new bodyguard's domicile to catch his attention by the rhythmic application of her knuckles.
She knocked.
When Corbett did choose to make an appearance, a concerned man might find himself concerned about hers. In the past few days the slender woman had managed to drop weight she could ill afford, and by the dark shadows under her eyes had slept lightly if at all. She was dressed for travel, a black coat over her day dress and a small bag looped over her wrists. "You may as well not bother pretending," she began directly.
"I know that you are watching my home. Are you ready to leave now, or would you prefer to coincidentally run into me later on?" It would be just like him to follow her again, but she swore mentally that if he insisted on tracking her everywhere she went, she would do her best to lose him in the alleyways. Yes she'd been stabbed before, but she could look after herself!
"I have business Downstairs."
For the first Aisling was utterly focused on completing her design. The core mechanism worked with the new parts she'd gotten stabbed over, but she wasn't satisfied with that. Using tweezers and an eyeglass to embed each carefully fashioned brass feather into its own tiny coil of wire, she fledged the starling and placed a small tube of greasy silver up inside its head.
Finally she melted the wax almost off the bauble and sealed up its chest piece with an angular brass plate she fastened into place with minute screws, and set it on its perch. After a few seconds its talons clamped down on the stand and it stood independently.
On the second day Aisling went out with a hooded cage in hand, making her way through the narrow streets of Pariah's Bay to her contact at the edge of the merchant's district. Harry Singer wasn't the most reputable of tradesmen and he never questioned where the marvelous golden birds came from, only urging her to find more. Faster. He certainly never gave her a fair price for the automata, reserving the lion's share of the profits for himself after he fashioned a false bill of sale and sold it to the wealthy traders closer to the Center - or sometimes even the Skybound merchants themselves!
Most folks of ambition had a plan for how they would get to the Sky in their lifetime, and making obscene money was a key part of his. Leaving the merchant to congratulate himself, the stray tinker lady returned to the streets only to spy Corbett watching her steadily. The look she gave him should by rights have ignited him instantly. Instead she felt him watching her all the way home, though she refused to dignify his highhandedness with her attention.
On the third day Aisling went to the apartment at the other end of the block and bought a door. The creaky door from the front of their apartment specifically, along with the man of the apartment's drunken assistance in holding it in place while she replaced the hinges. The work was complicated somewhat by a clash of personalities, although she kept a wary eye on him to be sure he had no ideas about compromising her station. F
inally with the door in place and the lock socketed into the wood, Aisling paid the man and waved him away - and disappeared within. It wasn't until two of the clock that she reappeared in the hallway and made her way directly across to her new bodyguard's domicile to catch his attention by the rhythmic application of her knuckles.
She knocked.
When Corbett did choose to make an appearance, a concerned man might find himself concerned about hers. In the past few days the slender woman had managed to drop weight she could ill afford, and by the dark shadows under her eyes had slept lightly if at all. She was dressed for travel, a black coat over her day dress and a small bag looped over her wrists. "You may as well not bother pretending," she began directly.
"I know that you are watching my home. Are you ready to leave now, or would you prefer to coincidentally run into me later on?" It would be just like him to follow her again, but she swore mentally that if he insisted on tracking her everywhere she went, she would do her best to lose him in the alleyways. Yes she'd been stabbed before, but she could look after herself!
"I have business Downstairs."