Mysterious Thingy-Ma-Jig

Clock Tower
The walls of the tower are the same dark gray stones that make up the outside of the tower. The central portion of the structure is open, so that one may stand in the center of the structure and see the top. Well…almost the top. A ceiling cuts off the view to whatever it is that's at the very top of the tower. Very little light comes in, just tiny beams of light from the arrow-slits in the walls. The floor is of dark hardwood slats, thin enough to have been worked easily but thick enough to provide protection from insects and wildlife that might be trying to get in.
A wooden staircase is built along wall, one that spirals up and up around the inner wall of the structure. It leads a workshop, where along every wall there are…clocks, of course! Clocks of just about every configuration one could think of, and quite a few that are outlandish enough to escape one's consideration at first. While most of these clocks are working, there are more than a few of them that aren't. The gentle ticking sounds fill the space, the clocks almost always perfectly in sync with each otherand with the ticking from the movement of the big clock aboveand the sounds mingling together to form an ordered cacophony of sounds.
Clock parts are strewn across a table in one corner. There are a couple of cabinets with parts in them like the ones downstairs—parts that are significantly smaller than those on the first floor. These are obviously for the smaller clocks that are built here. There are no less than two large grandfather clocks in this workshop, both working.
A thick support threads through a large hole in the center of the floor, extending from below to above. A chain hangs beside it too, anchored high above, and the spiral staircase continues up, past a door on the outside and on to more storage space, dedicated to piles of crates with springs and "little" parts for the clocktower's main movement. Of course, the word "little" may not be the best way to describe it; some of these springs and levers are longer than a man's arm. And some of the gears in these crates a man could actually put his arm through the middle of easily.

It's cold outside, even for a wintry day, but the clocktower offers SOME comfort and shelter from the winds. Won't be as cozy as some areas of the Weyr, but beggars can't be choosers! Keruthien's been here plenty of times before, mostly out of sheer curiosity of the mechanisms within but also because it's partly related to his Craft. Not that he's here for work! He's made that perilous climb up the stairs to the workshop to… nose around. Yep! No one else appears to be around, likely gone on lunch or some errand, leaving him to browse this odd and end uninterrupted. That is — until he drops something and from the way it clangs and clatters, it was both heavily and maybe important. Silence follows, broken only by the hissed intake of air from between his teeth as he grimaces and winces. "… shards…" Oops? Maybe he can fix it? It's a thin held thread of hope, as Keruthien crouches down to try and fish said part from under the narrow crevice of desk and floor from which it slid.

Rhodelia has absolutely perfect timing and don't let anybody tell you otherwise! She had just opened the door when the mysterious something clatters and clangs. She flinches and waits for possible death from above. Since she doesn't have anything bonk on her head, she opens her eyes and continues to creep up the stairs, poking her head up the landing. "I think you dropped something? Or the clock dropped something?" She's hoping that it was a person or else they might have some bigger problems.

Death from above! There should be a warning sign in here. Keruthien should BE his own warning sign, honestly! As Rhodelia pops her head up the landing, she'll catch sight of him, kneeling on the floor and very much pressed against the side of a heavy looking desk. His one hand is braced against the side, while his other is as far under the gap between the floor as possible. There's a slightly comical look to his face of deep concentration, tongue poked out between teeth and all! Which is promptly traded for a sheepishly ear-splitting grin when she prompts him. "Oh, that was all me!" he admits cheerfully. "Damn fingers, y'know? I've always," his words are punctuated by a light grunt, then a curse, as he tries in vain to get the right angle and just that much more under the desk. Alas. "Been complimented on my hands but they're sure giving me grief now!" That's when the light bulb turns on and he pauses, fixing her with an equally bright look. "Say… do you have small hands?"

Rhodelia should also start wearing a bell around her neck or something. A doom bell. Stick around at your own risk. The talk of hands gets a snicker from the assistant and as for her own, she holds up one hand and wiggles. "Depends on what you're calling small." But they're definitely smaller than the tall smith's, with some long fingers all the better from the grabbing of things. As the roof isn't falling down, she finally climbs up the rest of the stairs and peers at the desk and the man as well. "So what did you mess up now?" Important questions to ask before sticking your hands in unknown places.

"Dunno?" Keruthien answers her last question first, still pressed up against the desk oh-so awkwardly and intimately. He gives one last sweep of his fingers and is only rewarded with lightly skinned knuckles and a good bump of his shoulder against the immovable desk. Sighing, he'll pull back and shake out his hand, lifting one knuckle up to suck on it briefly. "Mhm. Give it a shot? I think it's almost dead centre underneath! Isn't sharp or anything." Yeah, hard to believe when he's grinning like that while saying it! "Whatever it was, I didn't get a good look at it before dropping it. Just… yeah, we should probably get it back." We? How'd this suddenly become WE?

Rhodelia tilts her head as Keruthien doesn't have any answers and just more questions. The skinned knuckles might argue that something is sharp, but the assurances are enough for her as she's rolling up her sweater and kneeling next to the desk. "So is this a habit of your's? Dropping random unknown things, fish around for them for a bit before hoping somebody else can get it for you? There's gotta be some better ways to meet new people. Like at the bar." Like normal people, even if she is willing to be part of the we in this recovery. Her hand is stuck into that crevasse, but no luck so far.

"Hey, I try the bar thing on a regular basis and that's even a fifty-fifty chance!" Keruthien counters, bemused and all too content to leave Rhodelia to do the grunt work. "Dropping things? Nah, not my style usually, but y'know how it goes… Everyone's got an off day, right?" As she gets to work, he's at least got the decency to remain kneeling beside her and leaning down to try and get a glimpse of their 'prize'. "… try going to the left a bit?" he instructs, while in the same breath he goes on to add. "I'll owe you for this, just saying." As if that makes it ALL better!

"Maybe you just set too high a bar?" Rhodelia gives a wink along with the pun. There would probably be an elbow nudge if it weren't for whole sticking arms in weird places thing. "To the left?" She frowns and tries to wiggle more but that arm just won't bend that way, but a light bulb does go off and she pulls out one hand to stick her right one in. "As long as whatever you owe me isn't a wrench or something." There's a slight clanging at she manages to finally grab the object, but pulling it out is going to take a bit more work.

Keruthien appreciates a good pun! He'll groan, then laugh for the one she throws out, shaking his head. "That was bad." So bad, it was good! Snickering quietly to himself, he'll nod to confirm his earlier instruction. "Yeah, to the left… oh, there it is!" He heard that clang and he beams in delight. Only… where is it? "Um. Something wrong? Is it snagged?" he asks, oblivious that she may need HELP with the last bit. Blinking, he tilts his head quizzically. "Why'd I get you a wrench? Or you one of those girls who like tools? 'Cuz I was thinking you were gonna ask for sweets or tea or something… frilly." Keruthien's obliviousness is an ACT here, as made obvious by the grin that creeps to his features; he's teasing her.

Rhodelia is definitely focused on the mission at hand, tongue sticking out and all. "Nah, it's just gotta twist a little…" Which she does and voila! One mysterious previously missing do-hicky. Don't ask Rhody what it is cause she had no idea and promptly hands it over to the smith. "There ya go. And I don't think I have anything against tools… but don't really have a use for most of them? What's wrong with tea?" Even with teasing, she might fight someone about tea. Or for it.

It's a thing-a-ma-bob, Rhodelia! Keruthien, without shame, with exclaim delight and then move to pluck the item right from her hands even before she's finished politely handing it to him. The item in question, now reclaimed, is promptly examined and he breathes a sigh of relief, "Doesn't look busted!" he mutters under his breath. Rising to his feet, he's almost completely forgot Rhodelia is even there (and helped him, where's the thanks!?) as he turns to the shelf where he plucked the thing from in the first place. "Mhm?" Wait, is she talking to him? His nose wrinkles, catching the last bit. "I never liked it and I've tried all sorts."

As long as it's not a dinglehopper! Rhodelia will be slower to get to her own feet, first stopping to inspect her hands for non-existent scraping. Just a little red where she may have bumped her knuckles. What's a little bumping in the name of whachamacallits? "What were you even doing with it anyways?" She doesn't care what it is, just a purpose or something? She blinks at the mention of trying all sorts. "If you didn't like the first five, why did you keep trying more?"

"I was curious because it looked cool," Keruthien admits without a single ounce of shame and zero filter to his honesty. "I mean, look at it!" Rather than finish putting it back SAFELY, he'll brandish it again and try to show off an item he doesn't even have a name for for her to admire. It really isn't that fascinating but to him, it looks like a precious treasure! Alas, he puts it back with reluctance and then dusts off his hands. "Why not?" he laughs now, on the subject of teas. "I had someone nagging me that I'd not just tried the right one and so I took it as a challenge." Shoulders lift in a shrug, dismissive, as though this is something normal that normal people do. Next? His scuffed, slightly oil-grimed hand is being offered to her. "Keruthien, by the way! Some call me Ruthien but I don't really care. But, you can call me what you want!" Did… did he just teasingly flirt? Oh yeah, he did. Shamelessly. With a wink!

Rhodelia raises an eyebrow as Keruthien shows off his treasure as she just doesn't see what the fascination. "Does it do anything cool?" And even if he's still holding it, she'll reach out to poke on of the moving ends. For his tea-journey she just shrugs. "Guess you can always surprise whoever that was by saying you found something and filling a teapot up with whatever else you might drink. A klah teapot? A redfruit juice teapot? A whiskey teapot?" She at least won't judge any drink choices. Other things maybe. She's already demonstrated she's not too picky about where she'll stick her hands, so the grime won't stop her from shaking his. "Rhody. That's my name, not what I'll call you."

"Rhody? That's a different name. I like it!" Keruthien proclaims, with a warm, charming smile he probably is only half aware he possesses. "Dunno, probably?" And that's the last Keruthien's going to say on the thing-a-ma-bob! He's moving on to different distractions now and different conversations, all while prowling about the room like he can't quite sit still! "That's BRILLIANT!" he exclaims, suddenly whirling back to face her and even going as far as to try and close in on personal space and clasp her shoulders. Don't mind him, Rhodelia! He's harmless (to women). Laughing, he'll clasp her briefly and then dart off, investigating yet another piece of machinery with avid, half-focused interest. "I'm going to totally do that to them! Can't wait to see their face when they realize…"

"Is it?" Having grown up with it, Rhodelia has always just been accustomed to her name being a name in both long and short forms. As the smith moves on, Rhody watches the whirling with a raised eyebrow. "Maybe not the klah-pot." He's got enough energy that there is at least one drink choice she wouldn't recommend. The sudden personal space invasion and shoulder clasping has her try to jump, which is a bit hard with hands on shoulder. It's more an instinct to sudden movement than any real desire to leave. Once he's off again, she'll reach up to brush off some of that possible grime-contamination from her shoulders. "Are you alright? Should you even be up here? You seem kinda…" Off.

"Well, I am a Smithcrafter? Journeyman." Keruthien tosses out haphazardly, as his continued quest yields no fruitful results. With a disgruntled huff, he'll blink and frown thoughtfully, before holding up a single finger. "That's not why I'm 'off'! What's that even mean, Rhody? You calling me weird?" Grinning, he snickers a bit at his own teasing, before abandoning his hunt for further curios. "What's wrong with just being a bit carefree?" Not quite the right word there, but he doesn't seem the least bit upset of her judgment of his character. "I'm fine. Are you alright? What got you coming up here anyhow?" He feigns suspicion, eyeing her up and down with a barely repressed smirk.

Rhodelia shrugs. "Implying, not calling!" There's a difference, but she does at least have a little smile as she watches still in a bit of confusion. She'll take a few steps to the side to try and stay clear of the whirlwind hunt. "There's nothing wrong with being carefree. I try to be carefree as much as I can, but usually a lot less distracted about it." As for her own reasons for being here, she shrugs as she moves closer to the window to peer out. "Maybe I'm inspecting for dragons?"

Keruthien pauses in his whirlwind of pacing the room and stares at her incredulously. "… dragons?" Then he bursts out laughing, laughter that continues for a few seconds despite his efforts to stop. "That's a new one!" he wheezes between breaths, hands alighting on another cog. Then? Then there's the sound of a door opening somewhere and footfalls and muffled conversation. Keruthien freezes, eyes wide and then, without warning, darts for the entranceway. Rhody? Will either be left behind or have her hand grasped. "Shit! Time to run!" Wait. What!? So they weren't supposed to be here!?

The incredulous stare is met with a complete deadpan from Rhodelia. "You must be new around here." Because there's probably a counter going somewhere about how many days since the last golden troublemaking incident that rarely ever gets to double digits. The freezing has Rhody copying his pose as she glances around to try and hear where the noise is coming from, but then her hand is grabbed and it's time to run and who is she to argue with that? AWAY! Like they were never even there to begin with!

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