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@nolan-callaghan
✢ BIOGRAPHY ✢ STATS ✢ SHOP ✢
Nolan, owner of Callaghan’s repair shop, is a gifted human with the power to see how inanimate objects work, magic or otherwise, and how to fix them should they be broken--a gift that has built him a strong business and reputation in the eight years he’s been in Destarin. Despite the length of time he’s lived in the town, Nolan remains a mystery to most around him, keeping his dark past to himself and drowning himself in his work.
penned by ryan.
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"So I spiced up your life?" the witch assumed with pursed lips trying to avoid smiling too wide. Destarin often seemed boring compared to the life she'd led before opening shop here. Surely the stranger could appreciate something different than usual?
But Lilim was still somewhat confused. How could a human with no discernable magic fix the bird's? It was a power she'd never come across and she was curious, to say the least. "I have a pocket watch," she offered, holding out the broken object and fascinated to watch him work on it. Especially given the magic in that. "My Daddy gave it to me, it's important."
Nolan couldn't help how his eyes scanned around the trashed shop at her words, his jaw working out his frustration on his teeth. It had been a while since his patience had been tested quite like this.
"I do not think my shop needed 'spicing up'," Nolan said dryly, pressing his palms onto the counter in front of him. At the mention of the watch, Nolan shifted his attention and tried to settle the annoyance that bubbled in his gut.
Rough fingers took the watch from the woman, turning it over as his eyes scanned the piece for faults. He was quiet for a moment, reaching behind the counter to grab a small knife that he used to gently pop the back off before he continued to examine it. He could see the magic threading through it, but quickly spotted the issue was mechanical and not magical. A broken gear glowed darker than the rest, showing him where the device could not function.
"I will have to replace a gear," he said before musing with a glance upwards towards the woman, "This is not a regular pocket watch, hm?"
Every punch was followed by an erratic crackling sound, a whooping of raucous laughter but it didn't come from his attackers pleased with their brutal work, it came from the tiefling as he was being beaten. Involuntary the manic laughter erupted from his lungs despite his attempts to make it stop since it only seemed to fuel his attackers ire rather than encourage them to stop, goading through gritted teeth, "Think that's funny, do ya? We'll make ya laugh," as another pounding of fists came. Merry was used to the pain, he'd befriended pain in the service of his great lord and found it comfortable, almost safe, but when he felt the hands start to tug at his metal prosthetic arm roughly, trying to dislodge it from its holster in his shoulder, the tiefling felt a rising panic. "Wait, no, please," he pleaded uselessly, "I need it," he struggled, grunted as another blow came that brought stars into his vision. He didn't want to fight back. He knew the damage he could cause to a person and he didn't want that so he instead focused on curling into himself, holding onto the metal of his limbs as tightly as he could but his hold was loosening with every constant blow until finally the blows stopped and the sounds of fighting shifted to a different sort of struggle and the tiefling peeked open the burning yellow of his eyes to see a stranger had entered the fray. He was not joining them in beating him up. He was fighting against them. In his .. defense?
This heroic act came as such an unexpected surprise to the tiefling, and the fistfight ended before he could fully process what had fully transpired so when the man now approached and extended a hand, the tiefling flinched. His metal prosthetic limb had been dislodged from his shoulder and hung half in his sleeve and half out, extended to an awkward degree and bent in the elbow joint, a metal finger twisted around completely. Luckily for Merry, he had no feeling in his prosthetics, but he also didn't realize the state they were in because of this.
"Oh," as he realized a blow was not coming, the tiefling tried to lift his left arm up to take the extended hand and found that nothing happened, because his left arm was currently the unuseable metal prosthetic which hung limply and lifelessly at his side. "Oh!" The tiefling made a face as if he were embarrassed that his prosthetic was non-functioning and then took the offered hand with his right instead. "Aha, only my pride has suffered a blow!" Merry released a high pitched laugh, "As you can see, I've still got all my limbs!" The action of moving slightly cause his prosthetic arm to slip from his sleeve and fall to the ground, the timing of which cause the tiefling to laugh once more despite the pain blossoming across his ribcage at every inhale. "I've lost one now!" The manic tiefling cackled.
Nolan hesitated when the other flinched, a momentary wash of white-hot shame running through him before he had to remind himself that he hadn't been the one attacking the man. Shoving his old demons aside, his attention focused back in on the other, eyes scanning over the awkwardly twisted limb, in concern and confusion.
The man was... laughing?
Sure, Nolan had heard what bizarre things shock and fear could make a person do, but the other didn't even look to be in pain, which was impossible given the state of his arm. Nolan couldn't help lurching forward as the man's arm fell off in a failed attempt to catch it as he watched in quiet horror.
"What--" his words cut off as the other's laughter filled the air between them and Nolan knelt closer, catching the faint glimmer of magical threads winding around the limp. The magic that his gift allowed him to see was weak--broken from the fight, but unmistakably there.
"It is not real," he marvelled quietly as he looked closer at the arm, his curiosity getting the better of him for a moment as he looked at the arm, already seeing just how intricately and beautifully designed it was. After a moment he caught himself, shaking his head slightly before looking at the other with concern again.
"Sorry--your arm, I've never seen magic quite like that before. Are you hurt anywhere else? Does it hurt?" He gestured quietly to where the man's arm had detached. "Can you stand? I have a shop not far from here where I could help you clean up."
"That's because rich men must have some sort of interest in keeping people from spending their money recklessly." He had had a few drinks, which meant that he was probably not in the best of shapes to discuss trickle theory. This was a tavern where he had almost a fight, and he was now having another drink on a knocked out man's money. "Controlling where the money goes isn't so bad, if it serves the common interest of the people. What is shameful is that it almost exclusively seems to serve the interests of the ruling society," which was why, even in the place he called home, a place that he found heavenly, there was a sizeable difference between the rich and the poor.
Even someone like him, who worked at a prestigious position for the crown of Crirtha was by no mean anything but a bourgeois. It was a better condition than most, but it didn't compare to anything the aristocrats and big merchants could fill their pockets with. Speaking of : "What do you do for a living?" surely he had an occupation outside of what had just happened. "Not many people do. I suppose most have better things to think about than beauty when they are tackling things one day at a time," he paused. "I don't mean to assume that is your case, but, it's an observation." If he had seen children marvel at the pretty flowers, most of the common folk was too busy to stop for a stroll in the gardens. That realization had saddened him a great deal. "I wish people had more time for beauty."
"That so?" Nolan said dryly before taking a bite of bread, narrowing his eyes slightly out of suspicion but his expression relaxed when the other spoke of the shameful ruling class. He gave a slight nod in agreement but offered no more on the subject, preferring to keep the sour topics of politics away from his dinner. Nolan welcomed the change in topic when asked about his profession and he took a sip of his ale while he swallowed down more of his food.
"I have a repair shop not far from here," He answered, tilting his head slightly as he listened as the other spoke with a certain amount of thoughtfulness that wasn't often found in taverns like that. "It is accurate, I am often too busy to worry about such things, but perhaps there is some value in it." He thought of the trinkets and jewelry he'd often fix in his shop, sometimes marvelling at the beauty of the intricate items and their craftsmanship.
"What is your favourite then? Flower, I mean." He asked curiously with another sip of his drink.
Tennyson's fingers seemed to be itching for something - not for a fight, not necessarily. Something told him he wasn't usually the kind to get his hands bruised and scuffed in such a juvenile manner. But there was an odd muscle memory, like he was used to using some kind of force, in some capacity. Suddenly, in his mind's eye, his fingers felt comfortably sticky, and he forced that odd feeling out of his mind.
He was far too tired to dwell on it - that would have to come another day.
Instead, he ate the rest of his meal in silence, in quiet appreciation that the other would stay near him, in case it happened again. Tennyson made sure to leave before he did, and immediately cloaked himself in the shadows of the darker alleys of the streets - when the gang of men inevitably followed him out, they were met with nothing but the open air, and that gave him a nice chuckle.
It wasn't a hard feat to follow someone home with the powers available to him. Tennyson believed he was a naturally quiet person in general, as it seemed. Soft soled shoes padded over cobblestones and around any alleyway debris, until the other made his way into his home. He didn't sneak in, that wasn't necessary. But climbing around to get the man in his sight was the key. Waiting for him to fall asleep took far longer than he anticipated, but Tennyson was patient. And finally, when the other slipped into unconsciousness, he slipped in, unsure what he would find - but whatever it was, he would ensure it was pleasant.
Nolan was happy to eat the rest of his meal quietly, watching the flames of the fire dance over the wood as it burned. When he finished he nodded a farewell to the man beside him and went on his way. He walked unknowingly with Tennyson following along behind him. Even if the other hadn't had powers to aid him, following Nolan wouldn't have been too hard. He'd long stopped looking over his shoulders in fear and never really worried too much about being followed like he currently was.
Nolan slipped into his shop, muttering a 'quiet you' to the metal bird that squawked as he entered and padded up the stairs to the small room above. He brewed himself a cup of the tea Tajhana supplied him with and drank it down quickly in hopes of getting any sort of sleep.
Nolan tossed and turned for a while before his body finally slipped into a fitful sleep. Almost immediately he was thrown into one of his typical nightmares: a village on fire and the air thick with smoke. Screams of men, women and children fill the scene and the smell of death is overwhelming. All of the men attacking and murdering the village wear Nolan's own face, and no matter what he does, no matter what he tries, he can't get it to stop.
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Times like this were when Zelda appreciated how the community really came together. A few days had passed since the events after the festival, and everything was already looking like it had been before. The last bit of fixes were a bit on the larger side, and her dear friend must have had his hands full with tasks. Hopefully he'd be making some decent gold out of it.
Zelda's front awning had been shredded, a few of the thin support beams splintering in the aftermath of it all. It wasn't a difficult fix, but she figured she'd give Nolan the business and some refreshing lemon water once it was all finished. She had a nice little table and chair set up out in the front, a place for anyone to come and rest their feet, to have some refreshments she always had on hand - Zelda was nothing if not hospitable.
"Nolan, why don't you take a break in the shade?" she asked, two cups in her hand. "You're going to get a burn from the sun."
@nolan-callaghan
While Nolan had lived in the area for many years and been through the chaos that the moon brought to them, he never seemed to anticipate just how much there would be to do after. This time of year was easily his busiest, and Nolan found himself working around the clock. Not that he really minded having so much to keep him busy when he would not be able to sleep otherwise. It did, however, leave him feeling ragged and tired, and by the time he had finished any major time-sensitive repairs for folks and was helping people like Zelda, the exhaustion was starting to show even more than usual.
Nolan squinted up at Zelda from where he was crouched working to replace one of the support beams and as usual, he found himself momentarily at a loss for words. At the best of times, Nolan was a bumbling mess around women, thanks to having been raised around only other young men for much of his formative years. But Zelda, well, she left him even more flustered than most. It was just that she looked so angelic with the way the sun lit up her golden hair and the sweetness in her voice when she talked to Nolan--well he just wasn't really sure what to do with that, is all.
So instead of kindly refusing like he would with so many others, more worried about staying on schedule with the many repairs that needed to be done, Nolan nodded with a little 'okay'. He quickly wiped the sweat from his forehead with a rag as he stood, following her to sit at the little table and taking the drink with a small, but grateful smile.
"Thank you, it is very hot out today," he said before taking a long sip from the drink, "but I should have the awning fixed by this evening."
"Well you should have been more specific, silly," the witch huffed as she gathered her clothing to reapply it to her body. As if anyone else he'd told to 'take it off' would not strip. Fine fabrics rustled as she redressed herself, huffing again, though more quietly this time. "I was just having a bit of fun." Was she pouting? Absolutely. Would she admit as much out loud? Never.
Once all of her undergarments had been covered once more, the witch looked around the rest of the small shop to take all of it in. Various pieces in different states of repair made her think she was smelling rust in the air and tasting iron on her tongue. "How did you get magic in it anyway?" Lilim was genuinely curious how a human with no apparent powers could do such a thing. "Did you ask somebody to help?"
Nolan could feel the heat in his face and his neck both from embarrassment and exasperation. He sputtered again slightly, his mouth opening and closing several times as he tried to find the right words to say that no, there just should not be the assumption to unclothe with such a vague statement, but the words were lost on his tongue and he settled for glowering at her suggestion that this was just a bit of fun.
"A bit of fun that will cost me many hours of work." He muttered under his breath as she looked around the shop, resting his hands stiffly on the counter in front of him.
"I purchased him like that. The magic was broken but I fixed him, and I will again." He said simply, offering no other explanation. "Did you need something fixed, or do you regularly come into shops to cause 'bits of fun'?"
Some might think her silly to be asking a fellow human help protect the tavern. What would they be able to do, really, about werewolves or fires. But Veda figured more people never hurt, and if anything they could help support the supernaturals that would be in attendance. She wasn't sure if any of them knew each other, but wasn't that half the point of a tavern? To meet new and exciting people? Given Nolan's social skills when in attendance, she figured he could probably use it. Whether he'd admit it or not.
"Myself more than most," she chuckled at his quiet words, the sincerity fading back into the usual attitude that allowed her to run this place. Thankfully, she'd never had to use the 'mom voice' on her fellow human. So her questions were genuine even if they still held that light tone. "How are things down at the shop? Are you worried at all about the Moon?"
Nolan leaned back slightly in his chair and looked at Veda as she spoke. He could tell how much the business meant to her and had similar feelings about his own little shop. The two of them had worked hard to carve out little lives for themselves, and Nolan would be hard-pressed to let anyone take that away from either of them.
"Work is busy, though I expect I will be even more so after the full moon," he'd been around for enough of them to prepare for the sudden influx of work after the night's chaos had concluded. "But I do not expect much trouble there."
His shop was small and the storefront itself easily boarded up--it had been years since he'd dealt with any major damage from the night of the full moon. He was lucky in that it wasn't a target like Blood, Sweat and Tears seemed to be every year.
Stifling a yawn, Nolan stretched his shoulders back and glanced towards the window where the night had grown dark and quiet.
"I should head back now. Thank you, Vee, for the wonderful meal and company, as usual."
devastated | nolan & isabel
It had already been days since she'd arrived in Destarin and nothing seemed to help loosen the knot that had taken up residence in her belly. The city scared her, her new title scared her, everything was just too much.
Or so she'd thought until someone shoved into her at just the right time, finding the shifter on her hands and knees on the cobbled stones. Wet immediately soaked her skirt but Isabel paid it no mind. What was more important was seeing Lily's necklace broken in the street. She'd thought the tight feeling in her stomach was as bad as it could get, but squeezed as she realized what had happened. "No! No, no, no, no, no," came the ragged pants as she picked up each piece with little care for the small cuts the glass was creating. By the ancestors, anything but this.
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as she looked around desperately, hoping some kind soul would take pity on the girl with fancy but wet skirtsm about to cry. But no such help came. Isabel had never felt so out of her element as she finally spotted a repair shop. She had no idea if the glass could be repaired, but at the very least she had to try. Hurried steps carried her into the shop, dumping the glass shards on the counter.
"Please, please, please tell me you can fix it, Sir? I-it was my mother's and it's ... it's all I have. That was hers, I mean. Or, or if you can't, can you maybe tell me someone who can? I can't lose this. I just can't."
@nolan-callaghan
The very first thing Nolan noticed when the girl ran into his shop was the lack of response from Lord Ironfeathers. The metal bird barely lifted its head when she rushed in, trilling slightly as she passed before tucking his head back in under his beak. Peculiar indeed, but he was quickly distracted from his thought as she approached the counter in front of him, and he took in just how upset she was.
In his line of work, it wasn't that uncommon to have people upset over their broken things, and he shifted his focus from the girl to the shards of glass she set on the counter in front of him. Gingerly, he picked up a few of the pieces to inspect them closer, turning them over in his fingers carefully to avoid the sharp edges.
"Glass can be tricky, but I do have a device that should be able to fix this."
Over the years, Nolan had sought out things that might aid him in his work, and with various types of repairs, and with magic available, there was very little that couldn't be fixed.
"It will take a day or so, but I should be able to make this look as it did before, though there might be a few slightly visible seams, but it should look almost as it did. Will that be alright, Miss?"
"I fear my bad side is still not so bad," she admitted, unsure if she'd ever felt like someone had got there with her. Usually people that created a certain amount of toxicity unnecessarily and did not desire for her to help them or care for them in any sort of way, Tajhana just...left alone. What was the purpose of doing more than that?
He was sweet though, that he wanted to come by. Tajhana was admittedly such a homebody herself, it was rare she left the teahouse, it was her workplace and her home and most people were content with coming to her as she had teas and cakes. Who would say no to cakes? "Well I enjoy when you visit me," she assured him.
It hurt her heart that his nightmares plagued him so, after all this time, she thought she may go mad with that kind of thing in her head constantly. He was strong, probably stronger than she could even conceptualise. "Something will change," her words more hopeful than they would be were they to come from some sort of future sight. She couldn't see that future for him, potentially something within the dreams clouding her, or because they were not reality but imagination she could not reach them.
"I will grab your bag," she told him, stepping through the teahouse towards where she kept her orders, opening a small cupboard and finding the one that was for him, a rather large bag as he tended to go through it quickly. She had not wanted to up any of the ingredients potency for him until he asked but part of her wanted to, if only because she could see the circles beneath his eyes. "Do you think anything else may help ease things?" she asked him, unsure if even something throughout the day might help him sleep more soundly.
Nolan couldn't help the fond smile that spread on his lips at her comment, because no, he couldn't really see the woman having a bad side at all. Her presence was more calming than most people, and he was quietly grateful that someone so peaceful existed in Destarin--it gave him hope that he might achieve some sort of peace within his lifetime.
"I'm glad." He mused, "And I do hope you are right."
It had been many years since he'd left his previous life and yet the nightmares kept coming relentlessly. He still had some hope that they would fade with time, but it was hard to be patient with the horrors that resided in his mind.
Noland watched as Tajhana retrieved the tea, and he took it securely in his with a grateful expression. "I am always searching for new things that might help, though I've learned to be careful of side effects--not everything is as safe as your tea." He'd learned the hard way when playing around with various 'cures' that had been promised him that sometimes had left him worse off than before.
"I am grateful to you, truly," Nolan slid a few coins over to the woman to pay for his tea with an appreciative look on his face. "And if the boiler gives you any more trouble send a note my way and I will be back as soon as I can."
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Francesco, of course, paid no mind to the change of tint in the other's cheek. He was too worried that the other might stand back up. Glancing around, he noticed there weren't many patrons who dared look his way. Having never witnessed such a thing in the past, he deduced it must have been the other man who made them so shy. Or terrified.
He didn't seem terrifying at all to Francesco. He was taller than him. He was broader than him. His features seemed marked with a tough life. Francesco however had decided that his savior was a saint.
Under his scrutiny for what he knew to be controversial, Francesco didn't insist. There were only a few people who, like him, were so inflexible regarding the law.
"Is it now ? It is my first time using currency to play a game of cards." Because he usually played with his brother and the only gambling they'd do was on who would get the next Sunday off. Since his brother had a family of his own, Francesco usually let him win.
"Buying us..." Before he could protest, the deed was done and with a glass of Crirthian wine in hand, the gardener didn't have it in him to repeat himself. "How can I repay you for your act of kindness ? Do you have a favorite flower or plant perhaps?"
Nolan paid no mind to the way other patrons now seemed to give them a wide girth, used to the intimidating reputation that he’d built for himself with displays such as the one he’d just given. He settled himself into a seat, thanking the barmaid who brought them their drinks and handed her some of the money, including a generous tip for herself. Bringing the glass to his lips, Nolan took a generous gulp before setting it back down and looking amused at the other.
“In some places, yes. Rich men love to control what others do with their own money," He mused, tilting his head curiously when the other offered him payment.
"I do not think I have paid enough attention to flowers or plants to have a favourite," He sipped on his drink before continuing. "I assume you know something of the topic?" He gestured lightly towards the flowers blooming in the other's hair.
"When it pleases me," she clarified, as if that clarified anything. It didn't, but she was having far too much fun watching the metal bird continuing to cause mayhem. The world was the witch's playground in her mind. Destarin's lawless nature was precisely why she'd chosen to put down roots here, even if she was heartsick missing her Daddy. At least there were no laws, no sort of enforcement. Lilim could do pretty much anything, wasn't even too worried about being caught. What would they do to her? Though she preferred not to think about that question too hard. Her magic made her overconfident -- surely no one could take it away from her, right?
The witch was pulled from her musings with three little words. With a little shrug, she made quick work of the buttons lining her spine with her wand and immediately took off her regal dress.
Apparently not what he'd meant.
Lilim made no effort to redress, fully comfortable in her body and undergarments thanks to all of the grooming she'd endured over the years.
Nolan's offer to fix her pocket watch in exchange for removing her enchantment from the bird was intriguing. Her interest was already beginning to wane in the mechanical creature despite the havoc it continued to create. The witch's attention could only be held for so long, even if she was the cause of the mayhem in the first place. "Okay? Okay."
Lips twisting, she withdrew her wand and pulled the magic back into her body, a wisp of white connecting her to Ironfeather for a moment before dissipating.
Nolan was working out what to say to the woman, chewing back his frustration and annoyance when her dress was coming off and Nolan choked. When he’d arrived in Destarin Nolan had been so unfamiliar with being around women, having been raised and trained only around other young men from the age of twelve. The most contact he’d had with the opposite sex during that period of his life had been when they’d been victims of their raids, and Nolan tried very hard not to think about those memories. The years had helped him be less of a bumbling idiot around women, but apparently, that went out the window when he was suddenly faced with the nearly naked stranger.
“What are you—I did not mean that you should—“ his face and neck flushed deeply as he tried to sputter out a full sentence, bewildered at her nonchalance over her lack of clothing. He watched as she waved her wand and the foreign bit of magic slipped out of the bird, leaving the broken mess of original magic. Gingerly putting the lifeless bird aside behind his counter to fix later, Nolan clenched his jaw and rested his hands flat on the surface in front of him.
“Thank you,” he said, strained and awkward. “I—would you please put your dress back on, I did not mean—I was speaking about the magic.”
“No healer has been able to fully fix the wing. The injury happened in my adolescents. I flew during a storm and got stricken down by lightning. The tale is thrilling.” Selene shrugged at the thought of hoping a healer might somehow be able to heal the damaged wing. “I am glad you seem to like birds. I am fond of all winged creatures myself. We share a common trait.” though Selene was more like a bat given her ability to echolocate.
“I appreciate your commitment to a quick turnaround. Two days, you say? I will have to remain fully planted on the ground until then I suppose.” Selene smiled as she offered a piece of dried meat to the bird for a treat, “whats its name?”
"It might still be wise to seek one out to ensure the brace fits as it should once I have finished the repairs. You would not want to make the injury worse." He nodded, feeling a small rise of curiosity, wondering what it might be like to fly.
Nolan nodded and glanced at the metal bird by the door. He had never really had an affinity for birds or any animals, really. He'd found the bird being sold by the docks, his magic broken and severed. While Nolan hadn't known at the time what a pain the artificial creature would end up being, he really had grown fond of the thing.
"Perhaps a little less." He nodded, almost opening his mouth to stop the woman as she offered the bird a stick of meat, and it was quickly shredded between his metal beak, small bits of meat flying around him as he squawked out before Nolan had a chance to answer: "SIR PHEONIX IRONFEATHERS, DUKE OF PLUMAGE, THE FIRST OF HIS NAME AND MIGHTIEST OF BIRDS."
Nolan winced slightly as the bird screamed its familiar chorus, answering the woman for him. "He has quite the mind of his own." Nolan mused.
"I certainly thought so," she chuckled, slightly amused when she noticed the hint of a smile on Nolan's face. The man wasn't her only surly customer, but she treated them the same as the others. A bit of a nudge and a wink with a mom's fussy voice when necessary. It worked for her as a human to keep up with the supernaturals that flooded the tavern. Well enough that she often pulled smiles from even the grumpiest patron.
As much as she wasn't looking forward to the night of the Strawberry Moon for all its potential dangers, Veda was looking forward to an evening that she didn't have to worry about her clientele's perceptions.
"You suppose, hm?" the tavern owner teased, nudging at one of the legs of his chair as she said it. "But you're right, it would be." A softness came to her tone as she, too, surveyed the room. The last time the place had burned down, Duarte had been alive. Losing the building -- even with insurance to rebuild -- would be like losing the last piece of him. "Thank you, Nolan. It was genuine, about as genuine as Vee ever was; a side rarely seen by others.
Sometimes Nolan forgot that Vee was a human, just like him. She managed those far bigger, stronger and scarier than herself with such ease it was impressive to him. They were similar in a way, building up their own reputations to survive this place, and yet unlike. him, Vee had done it with her wits, and not her fists. He respected her and honestly wished he could be more like Vee sometimes.
He smirked slightly at her nudge and gave her a nod, knowing full well he'd be there to help protect the place and Nolan would do it even if he wasn't being fed. The food didn't hurt, though.
Nolan watched his fellow human glance around the room, and he hoped that come the Strawberry Moon they wouldn't be forced to pick up the ruins of this place.
"You are welcome, Vee. I know many would hate to see this place lost."
"Oh you are a wonderful, wonderful man." He never had a thing for violence. He could not precisely recall ever having been so aside from that one time his brother had chased him with a dead fish he had found on the shore of the family's front yard. Since he couldn't even handle being yelled at or people raising their voices, he had simply frozen in the face of that sore... winner. Needless to say that his champion was swiftly awarded a tight hug. Never mind that he had knocked out a grown sized man with one hand. He owed him now, and it started with a hug.
"If you had not intervened, I would have had to ..." Well, Francesco wasn't sure what he would have done precisely. His first move would have been to grow bark and nettles on his skin. Defending himself was easier than attacking when you couldn't fight to save your own life.
Of course, he was puzzled when the other said that this all meant Francesco got to keep the man's money. "Wouldn't that be theft? He won that money fair and square." He looked at the man on the floor then quickly averted his gaze at the sight of blood on his former opponent's face. "Yeah, that would be absolute theft and I cannot do that. I... That's illegal."
Nolan most certainly was not expecting it when the shorter man flung his arms around his neck, pulling them together into a tight embrace. He is stunned, feeling the warmth of the other's cheek press against his own and his hands hover unsteadily at the other man's sides but not touching, not knowing where to be in that moment.
From the age of 12 and onwards, Nolan's life had been completely void of physical affection and the only touch he received were those of violence. While he'd been in Destarin long enough that he was no longer a complete stranger to soft touches and physical affection, he was not a man who was hugged often.
A needy warmth was swelling in his chest when Francesco released the embrace, leaving Nolan looking awkward and flushed.
Shifting as he cleared his throat, getting a handle of himself, Nolan couldn't help but tilt his head at the man's insisting it was illegal.
"You know some would say gambling is illegal too. Lucky for you and I, we are in Destarin." Nolan moved to grab the money off the table, giving Francesco a little look. "Well then do not consider it stealing, he is just buying us drinks for the hassle." A hint of a smirk played on Nolan's lips before he ordered them each a drink with the unconscious man's money.
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"If it is to keep you in business then I should have a litany of djinn breaking everything in their path," Tajhana tease slightly. With Nolan's apt hand at fixing things and his natural gift to find what was broken about them she did not envision at all that he would ever have trouble with his business. Beyond that, despite him perhaps not being the most sociable of men he was kind in Tajhana's experience, maybe not excessively so, but in his intentions and those were what counted, people could sense those, Tajhana believed that.
This thought was why when he focused and grew quiet, letting her question sit in the air for a few moments she did not worry herself. "I would say we could set up regular deliveries so you need not go without but then how would I get time with my friend?" she responded when he acknowledged he did need a restocking.
"Ease is rarely a reason to do anything," she responded, however challenging some of the ingredients were to come by she knew she would endeavour to get them for him. For anyone. It was her greatest joy to aid those who needed it. She only wished there was more she could do for him. To be so haunted, she knew it could be a great burden, and to continue to be generous and kind and hard working with that in one's head showed a great deal of strength. "I've still not had much luck finding anyone who can help more than the tea," she shared. "Any of my old friends from the war say their nightmares faded with time and time healed better than any being of nightmares was willing to."
Nolan couldn't help the little chuckle that escaped at her teasing, enjoying the ease he felt in her presence and in her shop. While the busy taverns he spent his evenings at helped him feel less alone, her tea shop made him feel more relaxed.
"Remind me never to get on your bad side, or I fear I would find many angry djinns after me if you have such power over them." He teased back lightly, honestly not even sure if he could even imagine Tajhana having a bad side to be on.
"I do not mind coming to pick them up," he nodded in agreement because he did enjoy seeing Tajhana and her shop. "Plus, it is good for me to get out of my shop."
"Well, I hope you know that I do appreciate it. While the nightmares do not cease, it does help... ease them some." Nolan nodded, his somewhat tight. He did not like talking about the nightmares. He swallowed thickly and nodded--that seemed to be the most consistent advice he received: that with time they would ease.
"Well, I do appreciate your help, and trying to find someone. Really. It is very kind of you. The tea helps greatly." It wasn't exactly the truth. The tea helped take the edge off, sometimes, if he was lucky. But he didn't want to worry the other and he really did appreciate all of her help.
Giggles escaped the witch as she watched the chaos she'd caused and all it entailed. Usually antics like this were reserved for the night, when she stalked the streets and played her wicked games. To enjoy such delights with the sun out felt like an unexpected little treat. "Tell Pheonix Ironfeather that I'll bite back?" the witch offered with a maniacal little grin.
The expression didn't last on her face for long as she watched the man dismantle her magic before her eyes. It made her feel strangely vulnerable and Lilim did not like it. Could he do that with all of her spells? Or was his ownership of the bird part of why he could snap the thread so easily?
"When it pleases me," the witch responded to the question in a nearly sing-song voice, trying to hide the sudden emotions traveling from her stomach to her chest. Wagging her fingers until her right palm was face up, she muttered a soft spell. Moments later a smoky humanoid figure rose from her hand that left Lilim confused. "You're human? How did-? How did you?" she murmured as if she'd asked the entire question. She'd never encountered someone who could alter her magic in his way. Again, the vulnerability bubbled up. But so did her curiosity.
"When it pleases you?" Nolan almost scoffed, his face twisting into a tangle of frustration, anger, and something else that looked almost like loss. His gaze shifted down to the bird, looking at the mess he'd made of the creature's magic and how interwoven that new flash of magic was.
While there seemed to be a lot more flexibility when it came to his ability and objects with no magical origin, when it came to manipulating magic there were far more limitations. He could fix broken tethers of magic, see where they needed to connect and he could make them work as they were intended. Similarly, he could break those threads of magic and tear them apart with a tug of his fingers. But he could not create magic, and he could not modify it once it was there.
Nolan was too preoccupied staring at that new thread of magic that he didn't notice what the other was doing or how perplexed she seemed to grow. He could likely fix the bird, sure, but he could not have the creature destroying his shop with his newfound ability of flight, and Nolan knew that if he tried to only fix the old bits of magic, it likely would not work.
"Take it off," the words were out of his mouth before he'd really thought about it, lifting Phoenix Ironfeathers out towards the woman, "Take off the magic you cast on him."
He didn't mean for the desperate edge to his voice, nor had he meant to grow attached to the stupid metal bird.
"You came here to have something fixed, yes? I will fix it free of charge if you remove your magic from my bird." Typically Nolan knew better than to behave like this, to give someone like this woman the power of his desperation, but he wasn't really thinking about that right now.
