awashlogs | catch-all for april!

[ It's early morning when she makes it to the church, carrying a good deal of the wood over her shoulder she had chopped up a month prior. She sets the planks carefully down to the side, readjusting the satchel of tools she's found at the entrance when she straightens up.

Pushing open the doors to the building, she steps inside and calls out, ]

Hello...?

Is anyone there?

[Damian pauses.

He's made a very novice, simple rope pulley, one which has lifted him up off the floor and against the side of the wall. Not all the way up toward the ceiling, but close enough. There's no windows nearby, and he's not in the rafters. He seems to be patching holes in the stone with a spade.]

Perhaps. Who wants to know?

[ She looks in a.... general upwards direction, attempting to spot just where the voice is coming from. Although she can't be certain, the words themselves sound a tad bit wary of anyone who might enter.

Still, she's relieved that someone is here at all, and so with a smile she replies: ] My name is Pyra.

I'm.... someone who is interested in making some repairs to the church. I brought wood, and some tools, and... [ She tilts her head, tone gentle. ] Won't you come down?

Damian Wayne.

[It sounds so... formal. The boy hanging in the air looks young, maybe even looks eleven or twelve, if it wasn't for the hard edges in the way he holds his face. His eyes are old; green and peering at her with a clinical sort of scrutiny.

They aren't the eyes of a thirteen year old at all.

Carefully, he shifts the things in his hands around and begins a practiced, graceful rappel down the side of the church wall to the floor. When he's on his feet, he puts the things on the ground by them and turns to face her while shrugging out of the rope.]

Are carpentry and stonemasonry skills of yours?

Edited (i forgot to change my verb rip) 2019-04-11 14:21 (UTC)

[ A hardened look upon a youth's otherwise soft features is something with which Pyra is familiar, as regretful as she is to admit it. And his in particular goes beyond simply just a parent's caution to their child to be wary of strangers. She can't guess from what sort of word he comes, but Pyra's heart-- metaphorical heart, of course-- feels for him sincerely.

He must be a good person, to be working on this church all on his lonesome. ] I've learned a thing or two in my world, [ A pause, and then there's a shy smile. ] But admittedly I can use a few pointers.

[ She glances at the pully system he's made for himself, and then to upper walls of the church, taking in what's been done so far, and what has yet to be restored. Finally her gaze returns to him, somewhat worried that he might have been here all by himself. ] Have you been working on this... all on your own?

I am now when I've acquired the time.

[Again, he takes a moment or two to peer at her with a kind of clinical, professional scrutiny. The look isn't judging so much as... an attempt to read what he can of her. This seems practiced.]

There was a girl who wanted it looked after. Zelda. I agreed to assist her in the endeavour; however... she is no longer here.

We established a few new pews and cleaned most of the debris. [If Zelda's departure bothers him, he doesn't show it. His head turns, and he glances around the inside of the church. It's clean, but not repaired.] The windows are mostly intact. The walls, the floor, and the pulpit need work. The rest of the pews need to be remodeled.

[ There’s not so much as a blink from her as he looks over her, inclining her head as he mentions the floors, walls, and pews. There hasn’t been a time in her life when she hasn’t had someone assess or appraise her in some way when first presented to them; here, however, she’s simply grateful for that he may not know what exactly she is. ]

Zelda...? Oh! [ Her eyes brighten and she takes a step towards him. ] Yes, I heard that she was— I heard from Sierra that she was trying to restore this church with you.

[ She brings a hand up to her chest, fingers lightly curling inward.. ] This church must have been important to the people here... It’s a part of this town’s history. We may not be able to restore it to its original splendor, but it would be nice to do what we can for it.

I suppose the easiest thing to do first is the floors and pulpit... [ Good thing there’s ample wood to go around from all the encroaching trees! A brand new hardwood floor would do wonders. If she can’t find enough nails, however, she’ll just have to make nailless joints. ]

Would you mind if I took those tasks from you, if you don’t have plans for them yourself?

[He glances back, and both brows go up on his forehead. Sierra, huh? It doesn't sound as if the vampire had really bad-mouthed him--not that he cares, not that he can be sure she didn't anyway.]

For a while, it had color restored completely. Likely, we could have seen what secrets it might have held; however, it hadn't been restored yet. Now some colors are missing.

[He looks from her to the church again.] I can rebuild the pieces of the pulpit if you're interested in putting it together. The floor will require more time, but I can measure and cut the planks for it.

We should start on the floor first. I'll have to move the pews out and the destroyed pulpit to clear the workspace. Once the floor is finished, everything else can be crafted and moved in.

[ For a moment she stares at him, lips slightly parted as if in awe. The color of the church had once been fully restored? What a shame she never got to see it as it had once been!

But hen she nods, encouraging and enthusiastic all at once. ] ...You've come up with a plan so quickly, that's impressive! [ It's just a small tease, something to lighten the mood as she walks past him, placing a hand upon one of the broken pews. ]

Here, I'll take care of moving the pews. [ She reassures, glancing back to him, and then is already lifting up one by herself. ] Then we can get started--

Want to make our goal the floors for today?

[The tease gets a flat look from Damian because he's very use to being teased this way, and he hates it. Not enough to be genuinely angry at her, though he is exasperated.]

Forming a plan of action in the restoration of the church isn't--

[Wait, what? He visibly looks a bit stunned when she just... goes at trying to collect the pew? SHE'S LIFTING ONE. He stares.] I accept the terms of working on the floors; however--

What are you? [Not human, he's thinking. SHE IS LIFTING UP A PEW. He hates this.]

[ .........She's been here for months, and literally no one has directly asked her "what are you" in all of her time here. Granted, she's only just begun to be a little bit more open with her abilities and what she reveals to others.

What instead of who seem like an infinitely more appropriate question to ask her. ]

Er.... [ She smiles sheepishly at him. ] I am someone.... [ THINKING OF AN ANSWER. ] --that is here to help. [ She finally ends, giving him a kind wink. ] Think of me as an assistant, here are your direction.

[Damian has just dealt with a lot of whats, and though he finds no negatives in distinguishing us and them, the Wayne in him craves labels and adjustments and categories.

So he wants to know what she is, seeing as she can manhandle a pew most--no, that's not right, plenty here can do that too.]

An assistant? Your answer explained literally nothing in relation to my question.

...No?

[ A head tilt, and she only turns back to face him when she's set the pew safely outside. Pyra brings a hand up to her chin, regarding him curiously. ]

It seems that you've been working on this church all on your lonesome. You've developed a pully system on your own, you've done your own repairs to it, and... you already immediately thought to restore the floors and pulpit first. [ Her head inclines the other way, earrings swaying with the movement. ]

Sounds to me like you're more than capable of being the boss.

[Despite the fact he's very frequently called out on being bossy, he still gets the strangest, brief twist to his face when she does it. Maybe because it isn't necessarily as taunting or teasing. It's an observation. Sort of.]

I'm not the type to sit back and let others do what I can accomplish myself. Even if Zelda has returned to her own world, I agreed to assist her with the church. I'll continue until we either find a way to restore the town and leave, or the town sends me back home.

[ It's praise! ]

Then... that tells me all I need to know. [ Stepping forward, Pyra brings a hand to her chest as she looks down at him softly. ] That you're restoring this church from a promise to someone who has long vanished from this world, that you're continuing to work hard and diligently even on your own...

You... you are very kind. And strong. [ Strong in principles, strong in integrity, clearly, even if his gaze is hardened and tone pointed and clipped. ] I would be honored to work alongside you for this project.

[Wh... WHAT. Now listen here, lady, he's the Bat who does all of the reading of people's hidden workings by watching what they do as opposed to what they say!!

He is, very honestly and visibly, flabbergasted for once in his life. Fighting? Anger? All of that bad stuff, he can handle. He's use to it, use to being hard and taking abuse, letting it roll off his back. But kindness... Nothing withers him faster, nothing confuses him more than kindness.

Embarrassed, his face quickly bunches up in an attempt to not let it be so obvious he was taken aback by the bold claim, that it had been even a little true.] Restoring the town earns us all rewards. I'm merely continuing a project for the outcome of what we can get to help us figure out a way to leave. [But he's not looking at her when he says this. It helps him say it.]

You may assist, I suppose.

[ HE'S A TSUN......! ] You "suppose"....? [ Despite what he dismisses, she seems satisfied enough of his answer, even enough to give a little chuckle. ] Hehe~ Of course!

We're going to work on restoring this church... together. [ And that's the important part, she thinks. Bonds and colors and something something. ]

Even if we don't leave, that we've restored even just a bit of this forlorn town, if we preserved a bit of the previous people's history here... it'll be worth it. [ She smiles at him. ] So with that said, let's get to it. I'll move the rest of these pews out here, and then we can start undoing the old floor and put in a new one!

[SHUT UP.]

Tt. [Why him? How did he always end up in these messes, the ones where every soft moral compass finds and gravitates toward him with increasing velocity?] Fine. [Really, he hates the fact it's so easy for her to move the pews out because, as the residential Chuuni(tm), he would want to do it himself.

But he's the leader of a team of meta-humans, too, so he understands working with strengths and weaknesses.] I have tools in the back corner. [Some pilfered from the town, a lot of it, though, made himself.] I'll work on the floor in the areas you've already cleared.

Take your time.

[ And so she begins to work, first with moving all the pews as he has suggested and then beginning to undo the flooring. The nails she manages to pry off form the older planks will be saved to use in the future, and a good amount of water damage can bee seen on the undersides of the planks she tears off from the floor, so it's a very, very good thing they're doing this first.

But eventually, she she will be helping him in installing new flooring in the church, as well as replacing the lower beams if needed. When it's all done she'll be moving onto the pulpit. ]

Think we'll be lucky enough to find finisher or polish for the wood? [ It's a joke, really, because she doubts that they will.

But also not a joke because that would be wonderful. ]

We won't find one from a store.

[He gets it's a joke (sort of), but he's!! himself!! And so he doesn't entertain the attitude with anything aside from logic.] We can find other methods of wood preservation, however. Tree tar, perhaps. Animal grease, beeswax. If we could find flaxseed, we could use linseed oil.

[So he may not be non-human enough to jerk up some of the pews in the church and carry them outside, but he's a powerhouse of (useless?) information. All kinds. It's stupid.

There isn't a huge rush for him to gut the church and rebuild, not when he needs to extend the things available to keep him busy. He takes his time with the floor, checking the nails over, putting them in the pile with Pyra's unless they're too bad off. Those go into another pile.]

[ ...Aha. ]

.....See? You are quite resourceful. And knowledable!

[ And for someone so young, too! ]

Where did you learn something like that? Just studious? Or was it your father, perhaps? A mentor? [ Like a camp counselor or something. ]

[Again, he makes a strange face, like he's not sure whether to be appreciative of the praise or uncomfortable by it. It sucks being arrogant, but also hating attention. For several long moments, he's silent.]

My mother.

[It's given very clinically, weirdly enough. Very detached, professional. He doesn't look up from his work when he says it. It's true, Bruce has also given him access to a lot of information; however... it had been his mother, for ten years, to see him through so much.]

[ She should know to be far more careful than to ask about someone's parents in this world, she thinks. So many here have some sort of... heaviness in their past, and she can hear that same weight in the single word.

Nevertheless, she smiles. ] Your mother. [ She repeats, and straightens up. ]

It might not be my place to say, but your mother must be quite proud to have raised and taught someone like you. And you-- you honor her, just by being who you are. [ By being this young man who wants to continue keeping up repairs to this church despite Zelda being gone, by being a boy who is working with Pyra and accepting her help. ]

[Well, she wouldn't know. Pyra wouldn't know, and no one else would know except for the select few people still around who have heard it from his own mouth. Or, worse, from one of the wretched events the town dredged up to try to bring them all closer.

Damian keeps working which is, despite knowing him, weird within itself. Someone who diligently continues to focus on a task in the face of being social, opening up.] Your attempts to buffer my fortitude are useless.

She taught me how to be a tool, and that's all she taught me. [For a while, he kept this to himself, but honestly... It's his father and his father's work he keeps concealed close to his heart. Talia? He'll talk about her as he pleases.] She was proud until I refused to accept my birthright, and then she disowned me.

Being Damian Wayne instead of Damian al Ghul is the biggest dishonor she could know.

[ She brings a hand to her mouth in concern. Although she had meant her words to be encouraging, it seems she's touched upon something... not so nice, and he's dismissing her words entirely. ] ...I'm sorry. [ She murmurs, heartfelt. Since she's just met him, it would be far too intrusive to ask him why any of it happened, why he switched from al Ghul to Wayne, why was it that she taught him to be a tool... But she can offer him her sympathies. ]

Although, I stand by those words on their own. That... despite where you came from, or your family name, you still are helping with-- [ She waves a hand up towards the church. ] --this.

And maybe she isn't proud of you-- and maybe this won't mean much coming from a stranger... but I am proud of you, of what you have accomplished so far. [ There! She won't give up hope in trying to encourage him. ]

catch-all for april!

For Damian

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emerges once more from surgery, sorry for the wait!

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