[There's a wash of affection and relief as he leans into the weight on the Murmur and she leans back in turn. The swish of tails gets faster. Distinctively...wag-like.] I don't need to. You took a gamble on me!
[Only the boldest and the bravest would raise the ante on Kalmiya Longwillow's offer.
The network ripples mildly as she focuses her attention through her sight. Then, in mirror of the way her hand reaches out, an image is offered of a tiny owl token, not even the full length of Kalmiya's palm. Next to it is a ring, cheaply made with the gem resting in an indiscernible middle space of color.]
I found these at a souvenir shop. Thought I could mount the gem to the owl—maybe leave a bit of a hollow in the statue to change the weight.
[ With their tether, he gets the rush of affection; the gentle wave of it breaking on shore, the sun-warmed embrace of the ocean in summer. It's funny in a way that her tails have become such an extension of her emotion because their connection has made those clear as a bell. So now the joyous sway of them is emphasis, punctuation to a sentence he already knows.
Endearing all the same. ]
Leaving it unbalanced in some way would make it unique, less easy to replicate. [ He hums in contemplation as he observes the tiny owl statuette and the ring that looks like it came out of a vending machine. ] Maybe you could give the owl a third eye.
[ Premonition. Or maybe as if it could see into the dream space. The thought is as interesting as it is amusing. ]
Ohh, [in a revelatory arc,] that's clever! Like a little psychic owl.
[She's clearly tickled by the possibility.] I was going to put it on the stomach. I thought that would be cute.
[In physical space, she rolls both pieces around in her cupped hand, before setting the owl down to study the ring. As she leans back into a sprawl atop the covers of her bed, in the mental space she stretches horizontally across Arthur's lap and slips the cheap ring past the first knuckle of her index finger to hold it up in indication.] There's a visual component too.
Psychic. Or what the Grecians called an Oracle, a future-seer. [ Why that pops in his head, he isn't sure. A memory being unburied from some high school history lesson or book he read in that timeframe.
His eyebrows lift in amusement as she mentions putting the gem on the owl's stomach, the flicker of what he mentions next going across the tether a split second before it crosses the threshold of his teeth. ] What, like a Troll?
[ The image hangs there, hazy with time, clearly from a child's perspective. It dissipates like a soap bubble when she sprawls across his lap—the contact felt despite the lack of her physical presence. Arthur isn't sure he'll ever fully adjust to that. Respectful of the totem, he twirls a golden lock of hair around his index finger, idly watching it spring back when he lets it go. ]
Having both visual and kinetic effects helps determine the space you're in. You might be able to make it light up in real life with some work, but in a dream it could do that and more.
[Her eyes go wide with recognition and she grins brightly, pointing in excitement with the finger bearing the ring.] Those are the people with the really hot statues!
[Looks like someone has been researching Earth's history of art...
Troll lands a bit differently, and she's dying to ask after these weird gem-tummied creatures he's thinking about, seeing as the trolls of her world do not tend to have cute decorated stomachs. But her eagerness to explain her very clever totem solution outweighs that curiosity for the moment. And she's a little distracted by the way he fidgets with her hair, an idle sort of affection she doesn't expect.]
Well— you'd need some sort of power source for a light, right? This thing [she lifts her other hand to tap her claw against the murky-colored stone] doesn't need a battery. The display said it was a magical mood ring, but I've seen those; this isn't magical at all. It just responds to temperature!
[ As someone who's listened to plenty of art podcasts and audiobooks on his flights, he can't say he's ever heard someone describe Grecian sculpture as hot statues. But, he supposes there's a first time for everything. Eyebrows lifted in slight surprise at her exclamation, they quickly draw inwards as he laughs, shaking his head. ]
Yeah, I suppose they are. Them and the Romans. [ And of course it makes sense that Kalmiya would be drawn to the artistic history of Earth's civilizations. Sooner or later, she was going to run into it anyway, especially with them being in Manhattan. It wasn't as if the Met was all that far away.
As for Trolls, well, he'll come back to that eventually, since he does catch the bright pique of her curiosity. ]
Hate to break it to you, but anything labeled magical here is likely to be a fiction or a neat trick of science.
[Right, the Romans. Their statues were also very hot but they copied the Greeks or something, didn't they? That was deeper into Earth history than she cared to read at that point—which means she also loses track of this train of thought, not wanting to digress into an arena of ignorance when she's so very excited about her totem concept.
Her cheeks puff in an exaggerated pout.] I know that, Mister Scientific. That's the point! Because—
[The hand bearing the ring balls into a fist to hold the jewelry steady as she begins to quickly rub the warm pad of her thumb over the crystal. When she removes her thumb, the color has unified and warmed near to orange. She shows it off proudly.] —the results will be consistent! And they have been. I've studied how this changes color in response to handling under various conditions, so I'll know what color it's supposed to be after, say, ten seconds of vigorous rubbing. Or an hour of wear in chilly weather. Or when I lick it!
[This is science.
She's beaming as she barrels through her explanation, and gives the gem another tap with her claw.] But it will just be a magical mood crystal in a dream.
[ Kalmiya lobs the name mister scientific at him in her faux-annoyance and he can't help but laugh, mouth pressed into an amused line. She recovers from her insults to show off the way the ring changes color after she rubs the pad of her thumb over it vigorously, pride shining through her tone.
And truthfully, he is impressed by the methodical approach she's taken to her totem. Because she's right—if there's one thing "magic" about the temperature reading on the ring, it's that it will be consistent. While all humans had the same body temperature (with extremely slight variation), some ran surface-level colder than others. Which meant the way the ring reacted would be different enough to remain unique.
Look, I'm not besmirching your scientific methods or anything, but– [ The utter bafflement is shifting now, the twist of a wry grin taking its place, which he angles down towards her. ] –did you at least wash it beforehand? You could get tetanus or something.
[ No telling what was in the coating of dust that's settled over much of the sleeping city. With the living inhabiting it again, that fine coating has been kicked up or wiped away, bit by bit. However, their numbers could hardly hold a candle to the full population of New York City in its prime. There were still so many corners and empty storefronts that they wouldn't get to, not until more people showed up.
Those thoughts get set aside for now, as he makes a face at her declaration about people not wanting to touch something that someone licked. Perhaps he's indulged her too much, though, since his reactive disgust is betrayed by the barely held back quirk of his mouth, amusement shining through. ] Juvenile.
[She snorts, her tails flicking in mock irritation.] I didn't make a snack of the layer of grime and spores I wiped off of it, if that's what you're asking.
[Whether it was cleaned to Arthur's standards is up in the air; she's an adventurer who has eaten many, many dirty things. Beggars can't be choosers. But she's not exactly keen to ingest anything she's found in the city, much less the dirt off a novelty ring for children.
She shifts her weight, propping herself up on her elbows to lean up closer to the poorly-hidden amusement in his face. The quirk of her eyebrow and curve of her smile is one of blatant self-satisfaction.] I can't believe you're giving me shit about this. You gave me an assignment and I took it very seriously! No one else is supposed to touch it, so I thought of things that would make people less likely to touch it!
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2025-11-25 06:11 am (UTC)[Only the boldest and the bravest would raise the ante on Kalmiya Longwillow's offer.
The network ripples mildly as she focuses her attention through her sight. Then, in mirror of the way her hand reaches out, an image is offered of a tiny owl token, not even the full length of Kalmiya's palm. Next to it is a ring, cheaply made with the gem resting in an indiscernible middle space of color.]
I found these at a souvenir shop. Thought I could mount the gem to the owl—maybe leave a bit of a hollow in the statue to change the weight.
no subject
Date: 2025-11-27 03:19 am (UTC)Endearing all the same. ]
Leaving it unbalanced in some way would make it unique, less easy to replicate. [ He hums in contemplation as he observes the tiny owl statuette and the ring that looks like it came out of a vending machine. ] Maybe you could give the owl a third eye.
[ Premonition. Or maybe as if it could see into the dream space. The thought is as interesting as it is amusing. ]
no subject
Date: 2025-11-27 03:48 am (UTC)[She's clearly tickled by the possibility.] I was going to put it on the stomach. I thought that would be cute.
[In physical space, she rolls both pieces around in her cupped hand, before setting the owl down to study the ring. As she leans back into a sprawl atop the covers of her bed, in the mental space she stretches horizontally across Arthur's lap and slips the cheap ring past the first knuckle of her index finger to hold it up in indication.] There's a visual component too.
no subject
Date: 2025-11-27 04:13 am (UTC)His eyebrows lift in amusement as she mentions putting the gem on the owl's stomach, the flicker of what he mentions next going across the tether a split second before it crosses the threshold of his teeth. ] What, like a Troll?
[ The image hangs there, hazy with time, clearly from a child's perspective. It dissipates like a soap bubble when she sprawls across his lap—the contact felt despite the lack of her physical presence. Arthur isn't sure he'll ever fully adjust to that. Respectful of the totem, he twirls a golden lock of hair around his index finger, idly watching it spring back when he lets it go. ]
Having both visual and kinetic effects helps determine the space you're in. You might be able to make it light up in real life with some work, but in a dream it could do that and more.
no subject
Date: 2025-11-27 04:39 am (UTC)[Looks like someone has been researching Earth's history of art...
Troll lands a bit differently, and she's dying to ask after these weird gem-tummied creatures he's thinking about, seeing as the trolls of her world do not tend to have cute decorated stomachs. But her eagerness to explain her very clever totem solution outweighs that curiosity for the moment. And she's a little distracted by the way he fidgets with her hair, an idle sort of affection she doesn't expect.]
Well— you'd need some sort of power source for a light, right? This thing [she lifts her other hand to tap her claw against the murky-colored stone] doesn't need a battery. The display said it was a magical mood ring, but I've seen those; this isn't magical at all. It just responds to temperature!
no subject
Date: 2025-11-28 06:34 am (UTC)Yeah, I suppose they are. Them and the Romans. [ And of course it makes sense that Kalmiya would be drawn to the artistic history of Earth's civilizations. Sooner or later, she was going to run into it anyway, especially with them being in Manhattan. It wasn't as if the Met was all that far away.
As for Trolls, well, he'll come back to that eventually, since he does catch the bright pique of her curiosity. ]
Hate to break it to you, but anything labeled magical here is likely to be a fiction or a neat trick of science.
no subject
Date: 2025-11-28 07:10 am (UTC)Her cheeks puff in an exaggerated pout.] I know that, Mister Scientific. That's the point! Because—
[The hand bearing the ring balls into a fist to hold the jewelry steady as she begins to quickly rub the warm pad of her thumb over the crystal. When she removes her thumb, the color has unified and warmed near to orange. She shows it off proudly.] —the results will be consistent! And they have been. I've studied how this changes color in response to handling under various conditions, so I'll know what color it's supposed to be after, say, ten seconds of vigorous rubbing. Or an hour of wear in chilly weather. Or when I lick it!
[This is science.
She's beaming as she barrels through her explanation, and gives the gem another tap with her claw.] But it will just be a magical mood crystal in a dream.
no subject
Date: 2025-11-30 12:42 am (UTC)And truthfully, he is impressed by the methodical approach she's taken to her totem. Because she's right—if there's one thing "magic" about the temperature reading on the ring, it's that it will be consistent. While all humans had the same body temperature (with extremely slight variation), some ran surface-level colder than others. Which meant the way the ring reacted would be different enough to remain unique.
Of course—] Wait, lick it?
[ WHY. ]
no subject
Date: 2025-11-30 03:17 am (UTC)She lets her hands fall to rest on her stomach, her proud grin taking on some smugness.] I needed to be thorough in my testing!
Plus, most people aren't going to want to touch something someone else has been licking.
no subject
Date: 2025-12-11 04:48 am (UTC)[ No telling what was in the coating of dust that's settled over much of the sleeping city. With the living inhabiting it again, that fine coating has been kicked up or wiped away, bit by bit. However, their numbers could hardly hold a candle to the full population of New York City in its prime. There were still so many corners and empty storefronts that they wouldn't get to, not until more people showed up.
Those thoughts get set aside for now, as he makes a face at her declaration about people not wanting to touch something that someone licked. Perhaps he's indulged her too much, though, since his reactive disgust is betrayed by the barely held back quirk of his mouth, amusement shining through. ] Juvenile.
no subject
Date: 2025-12-11 05:16 am (UTC)[Whether it was cleaned to Arthur's standards is up in the air; she's an adventurer who has eaten many, many dirty things. Beggars can't be choosers. But she's not exactly keen to ingest anything she's found in the city, much less the dirt off a novelty ring for children.
She shifts her weight, propping herself up on her elbows to lean up closer to the poorly-hidden amusement in his face. The quirk of her eyebrow and curve of her smile is one of blatant self-satisfaction.] I can't believe you're giving me shit about this. You gave me an assignment and I took it very seriously! No one else is supposed to touch it, so I thought of things that would make people less likely to touch it!