Gideon smiled from behind Felix as he finished. He squirted a little mercury from a bottle to seal up the cuts he had made with the necessary precision and took the magnet device from his patient.
"Glad to see at least you see it that way. I'd ask exactly what you meant to do about it, but I suppose it's best to keep such things out of public hands.
"Anyway, I'm quite done here. Do tell your father to come get looked at, unless he's been seeing a different Artificer I'd rather say he's due."
~~~
Marv lifted his arms in exasperation, but what was he to do? And it wasn't like there was any law against such a baffling act of charity.
"Er, well. We don't actually have an identification yet. We do have measurements of her intact arm that would be helpful in making a pretty standard replica. A factory Artificer could knock one out in a couple of hours, even. She'll be in Grace of Hermes Hospital, I'm sure a man of your station could come calling without anyone asking too many questions."
Name: Jacel (Juh-cell), the Impure Gender: Female Age: 19
Appearance/Physical Description: Tall, slim, and blond. Jacel has a thin, angular face, with tired green eyes. She looks, quite rightly so, as someone who doesn't get a proper meal very often. The hair on her head is sheared extremely close to her scalp, and she covers her head with a blue headscarf, in the fashion of the Southerlings that have lived in the Old Kingdom now for nearly a century. She chose this as it allows her to cover her tainted charter mark without attracting very many questions.
She dresses in an amalgamation of clothing from both sides of the wall, and many walks of life. Her boots and trousers are those of a Crossing Point Scout. Made in the military style of Ancelstierre, but by hand so that they can withstand being in the Old Kingdom. She wears a button-up shirt that is faded and colorless. Over this is the bandolier of bells, signature to a Necromancer. Her belt is brown, and the seven handles that stick out of the pouches are of sandalwood, the bells themselves are brass. Her bells are typically covered by a wide triangular cloak, similar to a poncho. This she got from a band of Travelers, and it bears their clan markings and sigils embroidered in the fabric. Her head, over top the blue scarf, is adorned with a wide brimmed hat, the left side being pinned up in a cavalier fashion.
She has a sword belt on her waist as well, hanging with a plain shortsword that is Charter spelled. With the Free Magic flowing in her veins now, it hurts her to wield it and she only does so out of desperation.
Personality: "Curiosity killed the cat," one ought to say to her. When she was a child she would reply snarkily "Satisfaction brought him back." But, though still young, she's come to see her thirst for knowledge as a bit of a weak point for her. She's not a "watch and wait" kind of person, she has a need to do and experience. And so she isn't satisfied to explore the theoretical, hence her impatience with Wyverly's magical curriculum.
This is underlined by a compassion that has been born from seeing too many bad things happen(and causing some of them). Her time with her Master has left her less than willing to continue in the more traditional veins of Necromancy. Instead, she wishes to use her powers for good. She has a feeling like she needs to atone for past wrongs, and habitually sacrifices her own recovering Charter Mark to do so.
History/Background: Born Bethany Hooke in Ancelstierre, the Necromancer who would later be known as Jacel was a native of Bane. She came from a well off family that had long lived in the Northern part of the country, and grew up on stories of superstition and magic about the Wall and what was beyond. It was a subject she was immensely curious about, and so was always willing to hear scary stories of times that things had come across(though it never happened during her childhood).
She attended Wyverly College, and was all too happy to jump to the magic lessons that were taught this close to the wall. But she found it lacked something, she wasn't sure what. Some element of the stories and superstitions she had been told just seemed to be missing. She hungered for it, but couldn't place what it was. For two years at school she studied hard, but still found her magical education lacking. Over this time she fantasized about running away to the Old Kingdom, but it wasn't until she was fourteen that she finally did it.
Getting across was easier than it should have been. She put on a blue head scarf and hid in a group of refugees who were being forced across. Not only did the army not stop her, but they actually helped her!
The refugees were beset by all sorts of nefarious characters shortly after being shuffled across, but little Bethany Hooke was the only one among them with a Charter Mark, and so she attracted the worst of the attention.
Even these days, Jacel believes she was lucky with who got to her first. A Necromancer looking to recruit an apprentice. Anyone else might have killed her, she reflected later. Used her Charter Mage's blood for ritual, taken her soul and body for their own purposes. Instead, she learned those same dark arts that could easily have been used upon her. By age fifteen she had walked in the First Precinct, and eschewed her own true name.
By seventeen, her master had gone missing. She didn't know where, he often left to go about his own business, leaving her with tasks to complete. It was months before she realized he wasn't coming back this time. She set out on her own, but didn't have a clear plan at the time. Since then, it's become clear that her kind is wanted in very few places. Without the influence of her teacher, her own better nature was able to blossom, and she tried to use her powers for good. She would ring Kibeth to walk the dead back where they belonged, or Ranna to quiet a graveyard. Once she even used Belgaer to discover the identity of a man's murderer, and inform his family.
In some places she has gained a sort of respect. She is called Jacel the Impure, a semi-derogatory title. They dislike her powers, but these are places out of the way, where the Abhorsen doesn't come very often, and she is often their best defense against the dead.
Jacel wants to put Free Magic behind her, but she finds it hard not to use the Bells when she finds a village beset by the Dead.
Skills: Necromancy and Free Magic Adept. Novice swordfighter, she had classes at Wyverly, but had only taken one year before running away. She knows a novice level of Charter Magic, but accessing the Charter is exceedingly difficult for her, nearly impossible.
Charlotte didn't actually have that clear of an idea what Quidditch was, and it didn't seem like their flying teacher would explain it. What she did know was that witches flew on brooms, and she was a witch. And she knew that climbing a tree could only get her so high. So there wasn't much to do but fly on this bloody broom, was there? She smiled at the mild curse and held her hand out, with all the confidence of someone who had already rescued a damsel in distress today.
"Up," the broom jumped up, seeming as eager as she was to get into the air. She threw her leg over and didn't wait for another signal to kick off.
Her first flight was unsteady and random, but the broom controlled intuitively. You leaned where you wanted to go, and she used this simple control scheme to narrowly avoid Ajax as he whizzed by with a much more impressive stream of curses than she could muster.
"Hey!" she called after him, and leaned forward to jet in his direction. She reached him a few feet from the ground, and grabbed the arm that was gripping his broom to steer him back upwards.
Gideon was silent for a moment as he worked from behind Felix. He had a copper tool to emit intense heat in one of his lower hands, and had a small hammer in his right and a pair of pliers in his other two. He would heat pieces of Felix's endoskeleton and use the other tools to reshape it.
"This sounds like a problem of conviction. If your father wants his company to have a certain image, and he is promoting it as such, then any actions to the contrary make him seem lukewarm. He can either sell to anyone, and drop the 'high class' image, or he can stick to that image and sell only to customers among the Nobility, or the Magi and Artificers.
"I won't bore you with a speech on ethics but: if he chooses the latter he will go out of business. Plain and simple. He can offer nothing that private artisans are not already delivering. He cannot produce it more cheaply without sacrificing the level of artistry that most of his desired customer base demand. And anyone who can produce that level would not need to work for him."
~~~
Marv looked up as Orran approached, and a sarcastic reply to the inquiry died on its way from his mind to his voicebox. This was a Magus, and one he was familiar with. He was young, but his family was forever trying to replace officers like Marv and Scarver with artificial minds. He thought it was something of a pipe dream, himself, but he wouldn't say no to retirement.
"Yes, Mr. O’Niall. An attack," as he spoke the woman on the stretcher(now quickly on its way out and toward a hospital) let out a quiet sob. He glanced at her, but she didn't seem conscious even at this expression of pain. "It was a scavve... a scavenger. Stole her arm right off her. It's not an uncommon crime, but we've got kind of an expert working on it, I'll have you know."
Well here where I live, you have to have 1500 hours of education, and have performed a specific number of services(hair cuts/colors/styles/ nail stuff) in order to be licensed. So I have two days out of every week I'm in a classroom, and then three where I'm workin in a salon attached to the school. So I get a lot of practical experience, and it's a lot like actually having a job.
It's not what I expected to be doing with my life. I wanted to be a teacher, but four year college isn't financially feasible. Maybe I'll go back to school some day, but with this I can be working in the industry as early as February, whereas before I was working minimum wage in the back of a Gabe's.
RPM
Fading Memory
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