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  • The Welcome Wagon


    Cassandra Greene

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    Feb. 28th, 2019

    5:30 p.m.

     

    The hour was late, the sky in the midst of sunset, as boots crunched along the snow coated sidewalk. Winter was never pleasant to some, but at least the falling snow was given a beautiful backdrop of multi-colored clouds. It was a sight that none could argue the beauty of, even the woman walking toward the forge up ahead. She’d never been to a forge; not before Resonance and certainly not afterward and that made this is a new, exciting experience. She had heard plenty about the forge though and it’s supposedly cranky owner. With the hour being a little late the streets weren’t as crowded and that meant a clear view of the place she was approaching.

     

    Well, as clear a view as one could achieve with a piled-high, plastic wrapped basket in their arms. It was stacked higher with muffins and cookies and fruit, and packages of trail mix and candies. She’d decided to get this one on the off-chance there might be something the owner would like in it.

     

    Purse hung from her elbow to smack against her hip every so often, and she’d dressed as warmly as possible today. Working in the field in winter was the worst. Cassandra didn’t like the cold and being out in it without proper attire wasn’t remotely enjoyable. Today she’d gotten to spend a little more time in the office though a good deal still was spent out in nature’s chilly grip. Getting off work, and deciding to make a trip down near the water, necessitated making sure she was even more securely wrapped up. Long coat buttoned to her neck, thick scarf of silk-and-wool wrapped about her neck and the lower part of her face, and a tartan cap to keep her hair from flying about with the occasional gusts of wind.

     

    A good thing since a particularly strong breeze blew as she came upon the door of the shop. The basket near slipped from her gloved hands — tricky to get a good grip on the plastic covered item though great for warming her fingers — and she lifted a knee to help achieve a better hold. Lowering the knee, she stared at the door in some consternation then opted to give it a sound knocking. Loud, succinct wraps in steady patterns of threes as she hoped the owner would be hear it.

     

    Forges could be loud. She didn’t relish the idea of freezing out here.

     

    -----

    Cass Outfit

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    [johann] Spiky... fucking floating spikes! [/johann] The dragon was on one of his rants, looking over the pre-delivered design he'd been asked to create. 

     

    [johann] Just because it's fucking magic doesn't mean I'm going to make a massive club with a useless edge! [/johann] The client had shrunk small into the seat. 

     

    Johann was pissed. [johann]You want a mace? A hammer? Fine. I'll make you a functional club. But I will not produce something this disgustingly overwrought and call it a sword. This is a glorified... what the hell is it called? Grasshopper? Mantis? [/johann]

     

    The dragon paused, pacing. [johann]Ah, right, Cricket! A cricket bat. Perfectly useful.... BUT NOT. A. SWORD![/johann] 

     

    Johann's blustering had obfuscated the sound of knocking at his door.

     

    The enhanced human who'd come to the shop rolled up his design and acquiesced. [npc] Fine... Whatever... Just make me a weapon... I want something magic. [/npc]

     

    Johann grumbled something under his breath and showed the client the door. [johann] I'm not going to make you a custom weapon without any specifications. You have three options: Buy one of these weapons that fits your fancy, come up with a list of criteria that aren't inane, or get out of my shop and never come back. [/johann]

     

    The man grumbled something about a crotchety asshole and was steered towards the door. [johann] Bye! Don't come back! [/johann] The shopkeeper called as he opened the door and ushered his would-be-client out. 

     

    Oh! There was someone else at the door... carrying... were those muffins?

     

    [johann] Ah jeez... Sorry, please come in. Were you waiting out there long? [/johann] The dragon offered a hand to help her inside or take the basket so she could step in.

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    • 3 weeks later...

    ♉ " Spiky... fucking floating spikes! "

     

    ♉ " Just because it's fucking magic doesn't mean I'm going to make a massive club with a useless edge! "

     

    That wasn’t exactly what Cassandra had expected to hear come from the inside of the forge. There wasn’t any possible way for her to see inside to know what was happening, but what she did know was that someone had displeased someone else. And that someone else sounded like the man in-charge. Blue eyes went wide at the idea of pissing off a dragon. She’d heard that Aura’s temper was infamous, and couldn’t even imagine what another dragon’s temper was like in comparison. Personally she didn’t want to know. Hearing was bad enough.

     

    ♉ " Bye! Don't come back! "

     

    Shoulders tensed as the shouting grew louder, and gradually closer; she could partially make out another talking over the disgruntled voice. Before she knew what was happening the door was opened and a small, shaking man was practically thrust out. Cassandra sidestepped to avoid being walked into by the outraged man. His mouth kept opening and closing, but nothing came out except a frustrated huff. As she watched him walk off into the cold evening though her attention was grabbed by the man in front of her.

     

    " Ah jeez... Sorry, please come in. Were you waiting out there long? "

     

    The words and expression were completely pleasant as was the gracious offer of a hand. Feeling a little uneasy for having overheard what went on, she gave a passive shrug before adding in an attempt to ease any potential awkwardness, [cassg]Don’t know who’d want to modify a cricket bat. Those things do well enough on their own. Casey Jones certainly didn’t have any problems.[/cassg]

     

    After a moment, Cassandra remembered the basket in her hands and hurriedly presented it to him with a cheery smile, [cassg]Ah, forgive me, I’m Cassandra Greene. I’ve come to welcome you to ARMA.[/cassg]

     

    That wasn’t quite how she’d planned it, but it would do. She stepped inside now in search of warmth. It was too cold to keep standing outside. Plus in a way he’d already invited her inside by the offer of his hand.

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    • 2 weeks later...

    Johann tilted his head slightly at the woman's statement about a cricket bat. Had she heard him from outside the shop? He needed to work on his volume control.

     

    [cassg] Casey Jones certainly didn't have any problems. [/cassg] The off-worlder blinked, chalking it up to an Earth reference. 

     

    [cassg]I've come to welcome you to ARMA. [/cassg]

     

    Johann had been left in the dark during the transition from the Silver Winged to ARMA. He knew of the organization running New York, he knew of the OFL, and he knew of Aura's integration into such a group, but his involvement was expected as well?

     

    [johann] It's very nice to meet you, Cassandra. [/johann] Something about her name was bothering him. It was familiar, and yet at the same time, largely foreign.

     

    Graciously, the man accepted the basket, shutting the door. He set the basket down on a counter and invited Cass to sit in one of the chairs around the table where he usually did consultations before beginning a build. [Johann] Would you like some tea? Coffee? [/johann]

     

    The dragon would retrieve his mug of tea and whatever beverage his guest requested before sitting down.

     

    [johann] Thank you for the wonderful gift basket. I'm afraid, however, that I don't quite know what exactly you mean. Since crossing over, I've always been affiliated with Miss Edler and the Silver Winged, but what does the merging of our two groups entail? Am I supposed to close up the forge? [/johann] Johann asked courteously, even though his anger at any intimation that his workplace would be shut down was bubbling under the surface.

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