charles
New Member
Walking with the faeries
Posts: 14 
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Post by charles on Apr 16, 2016 8:36:45 GMT -5
The day was begun early, the sun scarcely lighting the eastern sky when the young man made his way into the quiet precincts of the house, where he was to perform his duties. His first course was to arrange things so that all he needed would be ready to hand, parchment, vellum, an array of prepared inks and the materials to mix more obscure ones to match a text. The weathered skull that contained Rufus was placed upon the work table, and only then did the young man remove the jacket of his suit and slip on a simple leather apron and bands to restrain the sleeves of the simple white shirt. He pulled on a pair of thin supple gloves before he retrieved the first manuscript from the top of the stack and settled at the work table. He carefully examined the cover first, using an array of soft brushes and mild cleaning solutions made from soapwort to clean the leather binding with a delicate touch and attention to fine detail.
He did not rush, for this was work that was best done properly the first time, as a mistake could cause far more damage than was already done, by time and water. Inch by square inch, he carefully cleaned the tooled leather, making occasional notes concerning where gilding would need to be repaired, or colors had faded. The condition of the tooling itself was fair, and careful measurements gave clues as to the original depth and detail. Rufus was consulted concerning the reconditioning of the leather, to forestall further deterioration and perhaps bring back some of the lost detail. Only when the binding was thoroughly cleaned and inspected, a task of several uninterrupted hours of work, would he carefully tease back the cover to begin inspecting the interior. Each page had to be separated from its neighbor with a thin blade, whose tip and edge had been rounded and polished specifically for the task, so that it would do no damage to the damp parchment. The lack of ink transfer puzzled him at first, until he considered the ink...simple iron ball ink...it had dissolved rather than transfer...but the text was still legible enough to make a copy of, for later inscription...but matching that hand would be difficult, though not impossible.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Apr 18, 2016 22:16:53 GMT -5
Books. They had been ever constant in her existence, provided on a consistent basis. Indeed the Adept could not think of a time when they had been absent, they had given the woman a well rounded view of life, and numerous subjects. There were times, when reading that she had wished to put such things down, either because she comprehended that she would never be able to stop reading, even if it meant several hours of constant perusal. Or, the matter of study was coerce, brutish and profane.
Many years on..here she was, she believed it to be a combination of things, that had brought her to gain a position that she believed to be rather profound. Up to recently she also suspected that she may be the only nerd, to possess such a unique almost childlike fascination, when it came to the medium. Now circumstances had changed she had recently managed to bring Charles into the one man book worm pack. He had neither shown reluctance nor let up in the way she dedicated himself to the task, given to him.
Where others seen this work as boring and tedious, Charles and Herself, it was a different matter entirely,sure he had his quirks what with that blasted Skull who was in the possession of the name Rufus. As lecherous come perverse as the speaking cranium was, Sorra was aware that the thing was far from stupid, to the degree Rufus had assisted her with a couple of things that would of taken considerably longer to complete without Rufus insight.
It encouraged Sorra, because up to now she had been doing all of this by herself, and it was not like Caim was the most patient of individuals, there was so much more to do..to uncover... Brows knitting together in contemplative thought.
`shush numb skull`
utters in a low and slightly irritated tone, tossing her shawl over the chuntering former head before moving on across the room, to where Charles was situated, really giving some thought on how the man, managed to put up with his side kick..not that Rufus could kick ..of course..
`care to assist me with the latest I am working on..I believe as well as feel its of significant importance`
Speaks evenly yet socially, still in the process of getting to know the eccentric chap. depending upon the mans answer she would negotiate the next set of events, possibly sending him the part of the book she had only just restored..Plucking a bag of spearmint sweeties from her pocket she would offer him one. Blue green eyes reflecting patience and yet intrigue as to what Charles answer would be. After all he had been doing quite mundane tasks up to now, sinking his teeth into something more of a challenge, should put a smile on his face.
If she was proved right in regards to the journal, then it would be the fellow nerds best wet dream...
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charles
New Member
Walking with the faeries
Posts: 14
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Post by charles on Apr 24, 2016 11:18:07 GMT -5
To some it would seem that the man was wholly absorbed in, to some a mind numbingly boring task that lacked even the faintest vestiges of excitement, but nothing could be further from the truth. Years of training, that had begun in earliest childhood, had first expanded his awareness, then strengthened the intellect that managed it to the point that the mind became compartmentalized. There were no alternate personalities involved however, only the one well integrated personality suffused all that prodigious mind, yet it allowed him to truly multitask, that is to focus intently on multiple things at once, without a loss of detail. The sound f Sorra's voice brought him to respond, though he did not look up from the delicate task of separating leaves of vellum that water had adhered together.
"Certainly, what seems to be your boggle?" He replied, looking up once he had the sheet free of the body of the tome, and turned to place it upon the stretched silk screen that lay ready to receive it. Yes he was rather eccentric, it was an unavoidable consequence of understanding the flow of energies that few could properly perceive in this day and age, let alone wield with any certainty. One's perception of the world changed, once the veil of illusion woven by mundane perception was stripped away. Some minds did not withstand the shock and went searingly mad...others recoiled from the truth withdrawing into a catatonic state. But those that survived the shock intact, became stronger, more adaptable, and swifter of thought than they had been before as the last vestiges of that protective stultification was willfully burned away. His tone, was even, quiet, yet richly invested with interest, not at all distracted, though he was at the very same moment, calculating the needed components for a washing solution that would clean the vellum sheets and bring out the ghostly vestiges of where the ink had penetrated the fibers.
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