Vadimas Lugosi (hammerfall) wrote in olympian_rewind, @ 2011-06-13 11:45:00 |
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Entry tags: | hephaestus, npc, vadimas lugosi |
Who: Hephaestus and Freyra
What: Dinner and discussion
Where: Prime 112, an exclusive Miami steakhouse.
When: Recently
Warnings:
Vadimas Lugosi leaned stiffly against the bar at Prime 112. The reservation wait list was something like six months long, but when Miami’s richest man walked in asking for a table, something could be made available, given enough time. Hephaestus didn’t mind waiting, but Vadimas Lugosi glanced at his watch once more in a subtle display of impatience. 7:43. Hephaestus checked his reflection in the bar mirror. White blazer, white slacks, red shirt, top button unbuttoned It was the kind of striking array of colors and designer labels Vadimas Lugosi would wear, and Hephaestus clung to the facade of Vadimas to keep his nerves from showing.
He signaled the bartender to bring him another glass of cabernet sauvignon. The young man behind the bar was more than happy to bring him a glass of something with an impressive vintage and an even more impressive price tag. Hephaestus was glad to have another glass of something that might calm his racing thoughts. He told himself to keep his imagination in check. Just because he had the freedom to pursue other women didn’t mean he had to rush into something he wasn’t ready for.
However, he was apparently ready for something. After his talk with Hades, Hephaestus had been in high spirits. In his good mood, he had sat down with Freyra’s mystery invention and taken a good look at the device. When he had finally discovered the truth of the device, he had smiled. It was something that definitely reminded him of the elf goddess. With the mystery solved, he had wasted no time in texting Freyra an invitation to meet him at this restaurant, at this time, to discuss it. Her response was swift. She would be there.
At that moment, Hephaestus had been thrilled, but now, in this moment, he felt his nervousness mounting. This wasn’t like his dates with Valentine. He couldn’t hold himself aloof by saying that nothing would come of it. He had planned this expressly so that something might come of it. Shrugging his shoulders inside his jacket, Hephaestus hoped he would somehow dispel his jitters before Freyra walked in the door.
7:43. Janelle would have been there sooner, but somehow all the cabs in Miami had evaporated out of existence simultaneously and while she could have easily asked her brother to drive her, she wouldn't be caught dead in his pick-up truck. The fact that he had a pick-up truck for Miami and for DC was enough to make her sigh and wonder if he was actively trying to look like a hick or if it was natural for him.
But her twin brother's "good ol' boy" tastes were now far from her mind as she strolled into Prime 112 dressed in fitted white slacks and forest green, asymmetrical crop top that accented her blue-green eyes.
She smirked as she caught sight of Vadimas and was quick to bypass the man asking her if she had a reservation without a word and bellied up to the bar beside him, "You should have told me you were wearing red. I have this in red."
Hephaestus was stunned for a moment as Freyra approached him. Somehow, he always managed to forget just how beautiful she was. It didn’t help that her crop top offered a tantalizing view of her midriff. Luckily, Vadimas Lugosi reacted before Hephaestus made things uncomfortable.
“My apologies,” he began as his eyes met Freyra’s. “I like how the green brings out the color of your eyes, though.” He leaned in and continued in a conspiratorial whisper. “Maybe I’ll just tell people I’m wearing green. I don’t think they’ll be able to take their eyes off you long enough to check.” Hephaestus made a mental note to inform Freyra of his choices of outfit before any more outings. He also made a mental note to not get too giddy over Freyra’s desire for color coordination.
“It’s good to see you again, Janelle, as always. It’s been far too long.” The words were casual enough, but Hephaestus himself was shocked by how much he meant them. It had been too long. “Our table should ready soon,” he continued, his voice loud enough for the host to hear. “Until then, would you like something to drink?” He gestured to the bar, where his own half-finished glass of wine sat.
"Even if they don't buy into your lie, we're at least in complimentary colors. If TMZ catches us again, at least we aren't clashing," she replied in a matching conspiratorial whisper. TMZ was the reason she chose her outfit. As soon as she had read it was a public place, she decided she was going to give them something to talk about besides the fact that she was pretty much Lara Croft.
"It has been a while, hasn't it? We both have to stop being such busy people." Janelle put her matching white handbag atop the bar and motioned to the bartender for a glass of Skaersogaard Cabernet Cortis. "I hope my little challenge for you didn't eat up too much time from your schedule."
“I admit, it was a bit more challenging than troubleshooting the mail server you designed last time,” Hephaestus said as he picked up his glass again. After taking a sip, he continued. “I must have spent minutes laboring under the assumption it was a trackball.” He chuckled a bit at the admission. “But then, I asked myself if a vibrant woman like yourself would create something so mundane.”
Perhaps it was the wine, or perhaps it was the talk of inventions, but Hephaestus’ jitters were gradually subsiding. The line between Vadimas and Hephaestus grew less distinct, and he actually began to enjoy himself. He caught sight of the host walking over to him.
“Ah, I think our table is ready,” he said with only a hint of surprise. He held out his arm to Freyra. “Milady?”
Janelle made certain to grab her bag, letting it hang from the crook of her elbow before she took Vadimas' arm to be led, "I labored under that assumption for a little bit as well but I came up with a lot of ideas before I threw up my hands." She laughed softly as she remembered her attempts to figure out what the device did- - attempts that might as well have included a ten foot long stick toward the end, "I suppose it wasn't overly dangerous if we're discussing it here. A relief for me."
Hephaestus chuckled softly as he followed the host to their table. He found Freyra’s laughter infectious.
“Overly? No,” he responded mirthfully. “If it were overly dangerous I would have detonated it safely in my laboratory and sent you my apologies. However, the device can be imbued with a subtle menace, but perhaps I’ve simply let my imagination get carried away with me.” He let his tease hang in the air as they entered the main dining room.
Conversation became impossible as they were swallowed up by the noise of myriad voices and the attendant sounds of dinner. Prime 112 may have been exclusive, but it was also routinely packed by those hoping to see and be seen. Indeed, Hephaestus noticed that his appearance with Freyra was causing a bit of a stir. With varying levels of discretion, people whispered to each other and took cell phone pictures as they passed.
All the attention focused on them made Hephaestus acutely aware of Freyra’s presence. His arm tingled where her hands rested against it. Her touch was electric, even through the material of his blazer. Hephaestus found himself almost giddy from the heady rush of fame and Freyra’s close proximity and exposed skin. He allowed himself to enjoy it a moment before quickly pulling himself together. Enjoying himself was one thing, but losing control was quite another.
The host at last pointed out their table. It was situated behind a chest-high wall that would ensure a bit more privacy than usual in the bustling restaurant. The wall also served as a sound break, making conversation possible without having to shout. It was exactly what Vadimas Lugosi had requested when he slipped the host five hundred dollars upon walking in the door. Hephaestus made a note to tip the host again on the way out for coming through. Gently removing his arm from Freyra’s grasp, Hephaestus pulled out her chair and wordlessly invited her to sit.
Janelle could almost feel the flashes from the cellphone cameras reflect off of them as they walked through the dinning room. From the corner of her eyes, she could see people scrambling to take the foolish flashes off and try again before they lost their shot -- clearly their white coloring and the glimmer of the green of her top was not conducive to the flashes. It made her smirk as they neared the table. The people who had taken the extra second to bring up their camcorder apps had made the right choice.
“Thank you,” she murmured as she took her seat and then leaned an elbow right on that table, to rest her head atop her hand as she kept him her sight as he made his way to his own chair, “Do you know someone here or did you bribe someone because this is a pretty good table.” She knew that when her and Baulder went out to dinner in DC and made no particular requests, restaurants of all fairs just loved to put them in either the window or smack in the middle as if they were the attractive, live entertainment for the night. To actually have the illusion of privacy meant friends or bribes in her experience.
“Know someone? No,” Hephaestus admitted. “Getting in was a joint operation between my celebrity and my good friend Mr. Franklin. My name got us in, but Mr. Franklin secured our privacy.” Hephaestus turned his head slightly to look back into the main dining area. A few diners were still craning their necks and tilting their cell phones to get a glimpse. “Even though we were still trotted through the dining room like a circus parade.”
Hephaestus affected mild irritation at their treatment, but, in truth, he didn’t mind being seen with Freyra. At least, he didn’t mind it as long as they would be able to talk with something approaching privacy. He hoped Freyra felt the same. After all, he had chosen this restaurant on the assumption that Freyra liked being seen out and about.
Janelle didn't even bother to affect irritation of any type, she was simply to pleasantly amused. "When you called yourself a celebrity, you should have expected the circus when you take a beautiful, dangerous woman out for dinner in a public spot. I know I readied myself for it." With that, she motioned to her outfit with a conspiratorial grin. "I might have set you up for the parade,"
Clearly, she didn't mind if she had. She even shrugged as she toyed with menu before flipping through it, "Do you think this is the kind of place that will make us wait forever to order?"
“Not if they’re smart,” Vadimas replied. “I expect the only delay will be the servers fighting over who gets the table with the billionaire.” It was rare that Hephaestus thought of himself in terms of wealth. Money meant very little to him, which only boded well for the victorious server.
Even as he spoke, however, Freyra’s words echoed in his mind. She might have set him up? Was there a hidden meaning in those words? Should he counter that he set her up for pictures? Hephaestus pushed those thoughts aside. It did him no good to pick apart Freyra’s every word, nor did it help him to get too cutesy-clever in his responses.
“Well,” he continued, matching Freyra’s conspiratorial grin, “I suppose if spending my evening with a ‘beautiful, dangerous woman’ is the pay off, I can handle the set-up.” Hephaestus briefly wondered if beautiful and dangerous was his type. History certainly supported that conclusion. Hephaestus’ introspection was interrupted by the timely arrival of their server.
“Hi! My name is Jerry and I’ll be your server tonight,” said Jerry, their server for the night. “Welcome to Prime 112. Here’s our wine list.” Jerry handed Hephaestus the slim menu. “Our special tonight is the jumbo lump crab crusted grouper with wilted spinach and horseradish butter. That comes with our sweet potato fries and sauteed spinach. Would you like something to drink to start?”
Hephaestus held up the wine list questioningly to Freyra.
“Would you like wine with dinner, or would you prefer something else?” he asked. Hephaestus was, of course, a habitual wine drinker, but he knew that Freyra was from a different drinking culture.
Janelle didn't respond immediately. Her mind was caught on trying to determine why exactly a steakhouse's special would be a fish. If she hadn't already looked through the menu she would only be able to wonder if they were being fancy for the sake of being fancy, but the rest of the menu certainly confirmed it for her. "I'd like wine with my appetizer, another Skaerogaard Cabernet Cortis, but..."
At that point she reached over for the wine list and turned it over to where she knew they would be hiding their beer selection. This was an upscale steakhouse... she was curious what imported beers they had decided to stock and was pleasantly surprised. Prime 112 was doing good by her adopted homeland's alcohol, "But with my dinner, I'd like a Ringnes Pilsener." Possible two, but she'd decide that later. But an pale lager with a steak sounded right to her.
She then offered the list back to Hephaestus, "Your turn, unless you want to split a bottle of wine with me."
“That actually sounds lovely,” Vadimas said as he accepted the wine list. He scanned the beer section as Freyra had. He didn’t want to simply ape her selection, but he was less experienced with beers. He smiled as his eyes stopped on a beer that seemed perfect for the occasion.
“We’ll have a bottle of Skaerogaard Cabernet Cortis with our appetizers, then,” he said to Jerry, “and I’ll have a Leinenkugel Honey Weiss with dinner.” It was a beer that came from the exotic northern land of Wisconsin. The honey flavor should help wine-biased Hephaestus palate it, and it seemed appropriate to drink a honeyed beverage while eating with a viking goddess.
“Very good,” Jerry said, scribbling down their order. He looked back to Vadimas. “You mentioned appetizers? What can I start you off with?”
“I’ll have the jumbo lump crab cake with sweet corn relish and tartar sauce,” Vadimas ordered. It was something he could eat with utensils, keeping his hands clean. Clean hands were important if you were going to do a tech demo. After ordering, Hephaestus looked to Freyra expectantly, awaiting her order.
A whole bottle of Skaerogaard Cabernet Cortis. Hephaestus taking her up on her offer pleased the Elf-Witch, not just because it had been her idea but because it was culturally ingrained in her that alcohol was something that should be more communal than the modern World, outside of college campuses, had made it. Janelle lifted her to Jerry, "I'll start with the Oysters Rockefeller. Then for my entree I'll have 20 oz NY Strip, medium rare, with a side of sauteed forest mushrooms and a side of crispy white truffle french fries."
She had no idea what white truffle french fries were but the combination of words had intrigued her as she closed her menu that she hadn't bothered to reference as she ordered. But she was more curious about what she had managed to build and ship to Hephaestus so for the moment she also didn't feel like drawing out the ordering routine more than it had to be.
Hephaestus wondered if Freyra was very hungry.
“I’ll have the 22 ounce bone-in rib eye, medium, with the sea salt baked potato and grilled asparagus,” he rattled off.
“Very good.” Jerry’s scribbling increased in intensity for a moment before he looked back at Hephaestus and Freyra. “Your wine and appetizers will be out shortly. If you need anything else, I’ll be close at hand.” With that, Jerry disappeared into the crowd as he headed to the kitchen.
With Jerry gone, silence filled the space between Hephaestus and Freyra. Hephaetsus tried not to shift in his seat or otherwise reveal any awkwardness he felt. He wished he had a drink, if only to occupy his hands.
Well, if I want to occupy my hands, why not start the demonstration?
The idea soothed Hephaestus’ worry. Occam’s razor comes through again. Reaching into an interior pocket of his sports coat, he removed the device Freyra had sent him and placed it on the table.
“And here it is,” Hephaeastus introduced, “the special guest of the evening.”
Janelle had learned early on after her emergence from the Norse fall that she had two choices in life when it came to dining out. The first was to eat in portions of the average human woman and be hungry perpetually, or eat in portions befitting a viking goddess and deal with any jealousy that some woman who glanced at her plate held in her heart.
But for now, food was forgotten as she glanced down at the mysterious work of her hands. "I remember that guest. It treated you better than me, revealing what it does to you."
“I’ve spent most of my life talking with machines,” Hephaestus said unironically. “I guess I just know how to listen to them.” His words brought the faces of his girls unbidden to his mind, but he pushed them aside. he had learned to listen to them. Eventually.
“I have to admit, though,” he continued, “starting from scratch presented a much greater challenge than starting with an idea of what the thing was supposed to do.” Especially when the device was a marriage of two rather frivolous other devices, but he left this unsaid.
Janelle was quick to return her elbows to the table once the waiter and menus were gone much to the chagrin of any manners teachers in order to lean forward comfortably. "C'mon, Vadimas," she said teasingly, "You aren't going to leave me in suspense, are you?"
“Never,” Hephaestus said with mock indignation. “The device--” Hephaestus turned as he was interrupted by the arrival of a different server with their wine. Hephaestus sighed slightly in vexation as the man he assumed was the sommelier stepped toward him with the cork. Vadimas waved away the cork and took the glass the man had in his hand. Tasting the wine, Hephaestus found it to be quite agreeable, unlike the sommelier. He signaled the man to pour their first glasses and then waved him away.
Hephaestus took a long sip at his glass before continuing to help dissipate his irritation. And because the wine was good.
“The device,” he continued at last, “is a perfume atomiser,” he paused for effect, “and music box.” It was an odd combination. Hephaestus had a theory why the two would be combined, but that was for later.
Perfume atomiser and music box? "Really? Not that I doubt you, but still... really?" She was in luck that the wine had come when it had, even though the interruption had been as annoying as it was comically timed. With the glass of wine in her hand, she was less likely to grab the invention and toy with it.
No. With the glass in her hand, she could sip at her drink and let the being who actually knew how the thing worked continue to care for it for now. "That would certainly explain why I couldn't figure out what it did," she continued on, "I was looking in the direction of possible crimes against humanity."
Hephaestus cocked an eyebrow. Freyra’s fantastic expectations for her device cut through any hurt feelings he may have had at her reaction.
“I don’t know,” Hephaestus said demurely, “I thought it suited you. Here, let me demonstrate.” Hephaestus adjusted the various knobs and gears that controlled the device’s various settings. Soon, soft, distinctive music box music was just audible over the ambient chatter.
“Hold out your wrist.” Hephaestus said to Freyra, forgetting his manners in his haste to show off.
The music from the device gave her pause. What music she had expected when he revealed that the device was part music box, she didn't know, but hearing the melody that actually emerged from it took her back for a moment.
But only for a moment. Hephaestus' voice over the music broke her pleasant surprise at hearing it. "I knew I was right to not wear sleeves tonight," she said as she held out her wrist. "Alright, I'm ready."
Hephaestus caught the look that crossed Freyra’s face as she heard the music, but he said nothing. There would be time to prove his theories later. For now, he simply gave the device a small squeeze at its brass handles. A fine mist of perfume emerged from an almost-hidden nozzle. It alighted on Freyra’s wrist perfectly, being neither too overpowering nor too underwhelming an amount.
“You see,” Hephaestus began in earnest, “The device allows for a high degree over control over the perfume to air ratio. By adjusting the perfume reservoir,” he pointed to the cylindrical drum near the middle of the device, “and the aerator,” he pointed at the spherical compartment near the nozzle, “you can get whatever mix you’re looking for, ensuring you won’t overdose yourself on cloying fragrances.” Hephaestus gave a hint to his suspicions, but said no more of them.
“The atomiser is a skillful bit of work, but I almost enjoy this music box more,” Hephaestus said mirthfully. “It’s like it was bodged on after the fact, perhaps when you noticed the reservoir was mounted in such a way as to let it rotate. This spring-mounted cog,” another point “ with some deft maneuvering, can be placed up against the reservoir, causing it to spin if the cog has been wound. This causes the reservoir to move over a comb, where numerous metallic fingers catch in almost-imperceptible divots in the reservoir’s surface. It’s an ingenious little add-on.” For such a little device of such frivolous purpose, Hephaestus liked it. It seemed purpose-built, yet also built just for the joy of creation. As the master of craftsmen, Hephaestus could not help but like that.
Now Janelle couldn't help but reach out and handle the strange little device. She had watched how he had operated it, so she had no fear of it accidentally going off with some unintended consequence. Still, she handled it carefully for new reasons -- no longer out of concern for what it could do, but in acknowledgment of the delicate work it consisted of.
And that delicate work was what she took the time to reexamine. It all made more sense when it was explained. So much sense that she wondered how she could have been blinded to it all previously. What the device was was just so clear.
With another laugh, she placed it back down on the table, "Even I'm impressed I managed to pull off all this delicate work. I wish I could remember doing any of it." She then met his eyes, "Did I put the perfume in it, too?"
“No,” Hephaestus said a bit shyly, but he did not turn his eyes from Freyra’s. “That’s just a little token of my appreciation for such an enjoyable challenge.” He reached into his inside pocket once more withdrew a small pink box labelled “Prada” that held the perfume bottle the perfume in the device had come in.
“And for not blowing up my house,” Hephaestus said as he placed the box before her.
She smiled as she took possession of the small pink box, "Thank you. I actually love this fragrance even though haven't worn it in weeks. I tend to cycle fragrances so I don't get tired of any of them." After putting the box into her bag, she picked up her wine glass again,"I'm glad it was you who provided the perfume. Even I have a limit of how impressed I can be with myself for one event. I'll pass those accolades I was going to keep for myself to you for finding that perfume out of the thousands you could have purchased in its place."
“Thank you.” Hephaestus smiled broadly as Freyra praised him. Heartfelt compliments were not something he was used to receiving, so each one tended to reduce him to a fidgeting mess. He resisted the urge to collapse in on himself in pleasure, however, and simply finished off his wine and poured himself another glass to give his emotions some time to cool off. Once more in control of his faculties, Hephaestus gave the dining room a look. It seemed their appetizers were still being prepared, as Jerry was nowhere in sight. It seemed safe enough to ask a question without fear of interruption.
“The song it plays is very pretty,” he began, “but I haven’t been able to fin out it’s name. Sadly, all my technological means have failed to identify it. I was hoping you would be able to give me an answer.” Hephaestus had always planned on asking what the song was, but Freyra’s reaction to it made him a bit hesitant to do so.
Her response wasn't immediate. Instead, she choose to silently turn the knobs of the device as Hephaestus had to make the song play again. Only when the music started up once more did she begin to speak. "I don't know the name of the song either, to be honest. When we were first stationed in France, I hated it. I was told to consider it home but it didn't feel like home. I spent half my time bored and the other half of my time fighting off a wanderlust that I knew was just discomfort."
She paused only to take a long sip from her glass, "I was stationed with Jimmy and one day when he had been gone for a long time in Africa, he brought back me a music box. Why it had Canadan Geese swimming along blue glass when it came from Africa, neither of us knew, but it played this song... Why the Africans could manage a song that sounded vaguely like one from my homeland, I also don't know but I felt no reason to ask either. But it made the house feel like home finally."
She shrugged a little as she finished her glass of wine and the music closed again, "I didn't think I remembered how the music box's tune went, but I guess I did."
Hephaestus’ gaze returned to the device, his expression contemplative. He had assumed that the song was part of Freyra’s past, but he had expected it to be an ages old lullaby that would echo through the various halls of Asgard. The truth had turned out to be a bit more complicated than that. He took a sip of wine as he composed his thoughts.
“I’m glad, then, that I could help bring this song back to you,” he said in a low voice, his eye’s returning to Freyra, “even if my involvement was small. I know what it’s like to spend years looking for home amongst myriad houses. Finding it is not always so easy, and you want to hold on to the little things.” Hephaestus was starting to ramble again, so he cut himself off. The things... women that reminded him of home had just left him, and he had just severed his last tie to Aglaia. He could sympathize with the sentiments of Freyra’s story more now than ever before. He took another, larger sip of wine to steady himself.
“And now I know why my SHAZAM app couldn’t identify the song, even with some of my own modifications, which is nice,” Hephaestus added, his lips quirking upward. He hoped to lighten the mood a bit after reminiscing about lost homes and loves.
"I'll try to keep my apartment-mate from sending you a politely worded letter chewing you out for teaching me how to work this thing, The fire that destroyed the original music box somehow snatched the song away from my conscious memory so I'm probably going to be annoying with it as I make a point to master it." She poured herself another glass of wine, not bothering to consider she could always try not to just play the song incessantly until Frigga couldn't take it anymore. That wasn't on the table. The glint of challenge flickered in her blue-green eyes. The trauma of the fire had swept the song away from her; Frigga would understand but probably eventually grow annoyed with its incessant playing as she practiced it as if it were a weapon lost and then suddenly found.
"To think," she laughed lightly and then continued, "I worried it would explode and the biggest problem it seemed to give you was having a song that SHAZAM didn't know."
Hephaestus’ smile grew broader at the sight of the mischievous flicker in the elf goddess’ vivacious blue-green eyes. Her beauty in that moment left him speechless, like he was seeing her for the first time. Hephaestus was in trouble, but he forged ahead, regardless.
“Let her send those letters if it makes her feel better,” Hephaestus said with a shrug. “Enduring her poison pen is a price I’ll gladly pay to have helped, even in my small way, to give you back something lost.” He continued to watch as Freyra as she listened to the gentle music of her invention.
“You know,” Hephaestus said after a moment, “I did have another, less innocent idea as to what your device could be used for, if you’d like to hear it. I warn you, though, it may sound ridiculous.” Hephaestus wasn’t too worried about Freyra laughing at his alternate interpretation of her device. She had been the one to insist it might explode, after all.
Janelle couldn't help as her eyebrows rose slightly in surprise, "Now I definitely want to hear it, Vadimas. I want to see if its more ridiculous or less ridiculous than how I built it."
“Well,” he began, trying to convince himself his theory didn’t sound completely stupid, “The combination of the soothing music coupled with the extreme precision with which you can control the air-to-aerosol ratio of whatever is stored in the reservoir lead me to speculate that it could be used be used to covertly poison targets, especially sleeping targets.” He sheepishly took a drink from his wine glass. “However, it seemed to me that there must be easier ways to kill, so I decided its true purpose was something a little less sinister.” It was amazing how much sillier it all sounded when he actually said it as opposed to when he just thought it.
I see I was taking a mead induced trip down memory lane when I locked myself in my workshop, she thought to herself as she took another long sip of wine before she shook her head with a smile, "No, that doesn't sound ridiculous to me. I'll tell you a secret..." Not that it was a secret from her kin, but it still, it was of a secretive nature as she leaned further across the table to softly continue, "I was a spy once."
Hephaestus instinctively leaned in to match Freyra. He turned is head slightly to bring his ear closer to Freyra’s lips. As she spoke, he could feel her breath on his cheek. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Freyra’s blue-green eyes sparkle as she shared her secret with him. When she finished he turned to respond, but meeting her eyes directly caused his words to die unspoken. He was no match for Freyra’s devastating beauty.
Her gaze froze him in place, yet he also had the sudden urge to do something impulsive. Alarm bells rang in the remaining few areas of Hephaestus’ brain not under Freyra’s spell. Being impulsive had never exactly helped him in the past. He couldn’t be sure that she would appreciate his spontaneity. Much like Hephaestus, Freyra was missing a beloved spouse. However, he couldn’t be sure she had moved on like he had, or that she even wanted to.
He would simply have to continue on as if Freyra’s beauty wasn’t driving him mad.
“I never would have guessed that a beautiful and dangerous woman such as yourself would live in a world of glamorous intrigue and constant peril,” he said, barely aware of the words coming out of his mouth. He absently hoped it all made sense.
His absent hope was easily fulfilled as not only did it make sense to the Elf-Witch but it was filled with enough complimentary adjectives that even if it hadn't, she would have let it slide. She grinned a little as she leaned back in her chair. "I know, I know, it sounds completely out of character for me, but I am speaking the honest truth," she joked.
Then glancing around them, she decided it was safe enough to just keep speaking in a regular tone as long as she didn't put any identifying details to the story, "But I had to leave such a world. I eventually couldn't keep up with all the cover stories. I had four covers at one point being juggled like some quadruple agent. It was fun for a while but I prefer my workshop."
When Freyra turned her eyes away, the spell was broken. Hephaestus hurriedly reclaimed the rest of his lost faculties while he had a chance. What had he said? He couldn’t even recall. Hopefully reading decades of Batman comics had ingrained him with chit chat worthy of a billionaire playboy.
Freyra didn’t seem to have noticed that no one was at home behind Hephaestus’ eyes for a moment, much to his relief. Conversation filtered back into his awareness, only to stagger Hephaestus anew. Before he could even note the irony of an immortal complaining about losing track of their identities, Freyra said the word that pierced his heart more thoroughly than all her beauty, “workshop”.
“You took the words right out of my mouth,” he said, continuing to lean forward intently. “My family has forced me into more... active roles of late. You may remember the business with the Egyptians. And then again with Subrosa. However, I am, at heart, a craftsman.” Hephaestus filled his wine glass again and topped off Freyra’s. “What projects are you working on? Anything interesting?”
Yes, tell me all about the projects, Hephaestus thought as he resumed his attentive posture.
Janelle lipped the words "thank you" as he topped off her glass of wine and even though she held it by the stem, she made a point not to drink from it. Otherwise, she knew, she would just burn through the wine before the appetisers made it to the table.
"We've been busy as of late." Busy hunting down terrorist cells. Even the thought of it made her already pleasant mood grow more joyfully. The fact her kin was actually at war with another armed force and not some punks in the Iraqi or Libyan streets who managed to get some AK-47s. Enemies with plans, albeit terrible ones, and funding.
Unconsciously, she reached out with her free hand and toyed with the formally mysterious device again. After all, it was a celebration about the death of Bin Laden that was the direct cause of its existence. "Harry and I have been working on drones for the most part. The fact that we didn't have any for the longest time was something he didn't understand. But not too long ago, I had finished a tablet device that creates a dome of interference, blocking all attempts to record audio or listen in with enhanced technological means. It doesn't block someone just overhearing in the conventional ways though. Otherwise, people would notice, you know?"
“I know,” Hephaestus said as he nodded sagaciously. He was in his element now. “A device meant for subterfuge is of no use if it’s obvious, naturally. Now, what’s the--”
“Sorry for the wait!” Jerry’s voice burst into the conversation.
Hephaestus spun and glared at the server for sneaking up on him, but it quickly faded into a wry grin as he realized he hadn’t exactly been paying attention to his surroundings over the past few minutes.
“We have Oysters Rockafeller for the lady,” Jerry continued, placing a plate before Freyra. “And for you, sir, the jumbo lump crab cake with sweet corn relish and tartar sauce.” Jerry placed Hephaestus’ plate in front of him. Hephaestus glanced at it briefly. It was indeed a crab cake, singular. Even though he didn’t care about eating, he had expected more than one cake.
“Is everything to your liking?” Jerry asked briskly yet affably.
Hephaestus considered telling him that the less he saw of Jerry, the more the servers tip was likely to be, but decided to save his bile for his family.
“It’s been wonderful, Jerry, thank you,” he replied instead, briefly looking askance at Freyra.
“That’s great to hear. Enjoy your appetizers, and your entrees will be out shortly along with your beer. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to give me a call.” Jerry nodded in an almost-bow and then disappeared back into the dining room.
"The boy is trying, I'll give him that," Janelle commented as Jerry left earshot and then ignored the utensils set before as she picked up one of the oysters. The uncivilized eshrewed all utensils, posers used them for everything, but the properly cultured knew when it was appropriate to use their hands.
She was certain that being properly cultured was an act of pride as she momentarily thought about some of her kin and how they acted at the feast hall. Of course, she had ordered this particular appetizer knowing she could indulge in the habits of her older culture over this modern, Western one.
"Of course, it's interruptions like that the device can't block," she continued on, "Our server is a perfect example."
“With customers of such high profile as ourselves, I suppose I would try, as well,” Hephaestus said wryly as he picked up his fork. He crushed the crab cake into bite size pieces, but didn’t spear one just yet. “What’s the range on your tablet? Is there a range, or does it simple make what is said audible but untranscribable?” Hephaestus forced himself to slow down his questioning by stuffing a bit of crab cake in his mouth. It was good, he supposed in a distracted way.
One oyster was gone, she moved on to the next and ate that one as well before replying, "It's about five and a half foot radius around the tablet, anything more than that and I would need a larger device to contain the mechanism that creates the field in the first place, making it impractical for any mobile purpose." She paused to take a sip from her wine, having the appetizer here to drink the wine with, "It reflects the radiowave back to the sending device, causing a static feedback on their end."
Hephaestus nodded along at her description, absently stuffing another piece of crab cake in his mouth. He had ordered it because he could eat it with a fork to keep his hands clean. He barely registered the taste as he ate.
“And the interference causing radio waves, I assume, have an effective range far greater than one would actually be able to hear and record a conversation at,” Hephaestus posited. “I must say, it’s an ingenious bit of work, and the skill with which you describe it makes me wonder if you really need me to explain your devices.” It wasn’t just idle flattery. Despite her intuitive grasp on technology, she was certainly smart enough to back it up. “Now, the mechanism that generates the interference waves, is it purely mechanical, or...” His question trailed off. Talk of Freyra’s device had Hephaestus watching his words. However, he felt it was fairly obvious that he was referring to Freyra’s considerable magical ability.
Leading into that question with the phrase "if you really need me to explain our devices" made her smirk instanteous. "The source material I based it on was purely mechanical but then," she shrugged. "I did something all right. What I did? I'm not so good at explaining what I have done. The board of directors have pretty much given up asking the 'how' questions."
Janelle then paused and took another sip of her wine, "You don't have anything like it, Vadimas?" She had simply assumed he did and it showed in her expression, even as it was half hidden behind her wine glass.
“Now, I didn’t say that,” he replied, an involuntary smirk on his face, “but even though I have a device that works similarly, that doesn’t mean I approached the problem in the same way, or with the same concerns.” Hephaestus tapped his fork on his plate lightly, and his eyes drifted down to the remains of his appetizer as he thought about what he would say next. It was hard for him to express just why he liked talking to Freyra about her inventions.
“It’s so impossibly rare that I get to speak with someone who works on the same level I do,” he continued slowly. “Instead of rambling on about my own inventions, I’d rather hear about yours, because your one of the few that I might be able to learn something from.” He lifted his eyes back to meet Freyra’s, despite the heartfelt nature of his words, his smirk was still in place. “Of course, if you’d like to hear me ramble on about myself, I’ll do so gladly. I have a lot of practice.” Hephaestus certainly didn’t mind speaking at length about his inventions and his genius, but it just seemed like such a waste with Freyra.
"I'd be happy with either topic. If you ramble about yourself, I might just steal your ideas and then rework them through my own means and for my own purposes. Finding a starting point is always the hardest part." Unless she was completely drunk on mead, but she had only truly learned that today. It wasn't a feat she was looking to repeat, however.
She took another sip from her wine and then shrugged, "But talking about myself is one of my favorite hobbies, so I'll let you pick. After all, you did succeed in the challenge I posed with my invention so..."
Hephaestus leaned back in his seat. His face was pensive, but it was not Freyra’s offer he was considering. He had not received the response he had expected from Freyra after his admission. He wasn’t quite sure what he had expected, but he knew he hadn’t gotten it. The disappointment, however, was just what he needed to plug the hole in his face all of his pent-up emotions were pouring through. Hephaestus considered this an improvement. For the time being.
“Why choose?” he asked at last. “You mentioned trouble finding a starting point. So, do you have any projects that I might be able to help out with? I’m sure I can come up with something you could steal and rework for your own purposes.” He took a sip of his wine. His expression was neutral, but sitting across the table from Freyra kept his blood at a low boil, even if his enthusiasm had cooled somewhat.
It had been a definite pause, and while it afforded Janelle a brief moment to eat and not worry about having to respond while doing so, she had noticed it but could not discern the exact cause. But when Hephaestus spoke again, breaking the momentarily silence, a sense of a relief worked through her as the moment had passed.
"Actually," she began without much delay at all, even as she wiped her hands on her napkin, "I've been told to assume we'll win the contract after the American troops are pulled from Iraq, so we're going to need to be able to protect our own troops. Normally, I would just want to build from scratch but that isn't an option and unconventional methods," ie, using magic, whether intentionally or unintentionally, "is off the table because rank-and-file will be inside. Making an already built building immune to the explosions an insurgent can pull off has proven to be harder than it sounds."
Hephaestus resisted the urge to chuckle. Architecture and the development of durable materials were among his specialties. However, he knew Freyra was also a master of erecting defenses, and he did not want to insult her. Quite the opposite, he liked that she would ask him about something so important.
“Actually,” he replied with very little delay of his own, “I’ve encountered similar problems in many of my civil engineering designs. Except, instead of explosions, it’s earthquakes most look to mitigate.” He paused for more wine and more crab cake. He didn’t want to appear as disinterested in his actual meal as he truly was. “And, believe me, your average homeowner is very reticent to demolish and rebuild their cherished home over a little matter like staying alive in an earthquake. In cases like that, what I do is, essentially, construct a much stronger house within and around the existing structure. For your specific case, this would consist of two distinct build phases that can be completed concurrently. On the inside of the existing structures, braces will be installed to shore up any weaknesses in their design and to support the second build phase. The second phase consists of a specially designed exterior sheeting that combines an exterior amorphous metal alloy with an interior dilatant. The combined effect is like putting the building on steroids while wrapping it in highly advanced body armor, and all the work can be done by regular craftsman trained in traditional building techniques.”
“In fact,” Hephaestus said, gesturing with his fork, “your men might be disappointed by how mundane it all will seem. Of course, in your situation, I would likely throw in more high tech options, such as integrated solar energy cells and heat dissolution.” Hephaestus once again picked at his appetizer, noting pleasantly that it was now mostly gone.
"I do have a a benefit over the common people who don't want to rebuild their homes -- an effectively unlimited budget." The accountant team was to step in whenever anyone was nearing their budget caps, but she had never had one approach her. If the paychecks weren't cut on a regular basis and the taxes paid, she'd wonder if they even had an accounting team at all. "My other concern is dismantling all of it when its time to go. Even if I were allowed to leave fortified structures around, I still wouldn't." They were hers, not some would be Warlord.
Hephaestus chuckled as Freyra mentioned her unlimited budget. He hadn’t even considered her resources would be anything less than limitless. However, he also hadn’t considered that she would need to de-fortify her strongholds. Making a building weaker was not something he was often called on to do.
“Theoretically,” he began, “dismantling my structural improvements should take about the same amount of time as installing them. It’ll take even less time if you’re willing and able to simply demolish the building rather than dismantle it.” She had mentioned unlimited resources. If the exterior sheeting was removed, everything else could be destroyed with proper application of demolition charges.
"If I'm able to demolish something I built to withstand being demolished, a little part of me dies inside. Though," she smiled, the gears already turning in her mind, "if I made it in the form of a module unit inside and reusable pieces of armor outside, dismantling it would be part of its function and would be able to be used again."
Finishing her glass of wine, Janelle placed the empty glass next her similar empty plate and leaned back in her own chair, "It may be improbably rare for you to speak to someone at your level, but I'm telling you, I have no one. This is a treat. We should meet like this more often."
Hephaestus was about to comment that there was a difference between a demolition and an attack, but he held his tongue. Freyra likely knew this already, and he could understand her sentiments. Also, he was very gratified to see that his words had actually made an impact on Freyra and that she was now building on them herself.
Such minor feelings of gratification were washed away with her next words, however. The feelings of disappointment that had tainted his enjoyment of the evening evaporated as Freyra acknowledged his feelings. A slow, genuine smile spread across Hephaestus’ face.
“I’d like that,” he said warmly. “I’m always happy to be of service to a beautiful lady.” Hephaestus promised himself that he wouldn’t let the time between visits with Freyra drag on as he had in the past. He was done playing it safe, and he knew what he wanted. He could only hope that Freyra felt the same way. But for now, such concerns were far away, lost in the enjoyment of the evening.
Summary: Hephaestus and Freyra go on a date. That’s what it is, no matter how delicately Hephaestus tiptoes around the word. On this date, they discuss Freyra’s mystery machine along with other topics of interest to two nerds.