"I brought them with me," James says, going to retrieve them. "I had to take them off to bind your wounds but if you think you're well enough to put them back on, I can give them to you."
He'd kept them in a little bundle and it's easy to fetch them and bring them back to the Carja. He puts them next to her bedside.
"I can get water for you to bathe off a little if you think you're up to it?"
Upon further reflection, Talia realized that this Oseram had bathed her relatively well before tending her wounds, and getting his bandages wet wouldn't do either of them any kindness. Despite her fever, she was still a bit chilly, and opted to pull on her undertunic and leggings, at the least. The metal armor could wait, by the Sun.
"...thank you," she finally told him, all but exhausted by the effort of simply getting dressed. Her wounds throbbed, her head ached, and she wanted little more than to cuddle back into the furs and sleep until everything felt right again. But it would be rude, and dangerous, to simply languish, wouldn't it? Besides, she didn't know this Oseram, or what he might think of a Carja assassin being so close.
"--is this your bed? I didn't mean to turn you out of it. I'll...manage on my own, now." Even if the effort of just sitting upright made her head swim.
"No, you won't. You're still too injured to get up and out of here on your own. Sleep there until you're healed and then you can be on your way," James says, voice kind but a little firm.
"I won't keep you here against your will but you're very injured. It took me a long time to wash and bandage all those wounds and some of them I had to stitch. At least stay long enough for me to get those stitches out in a few days?"
"...fine," she groused, but in reality, she knew he was right. Her head was swimming, dizzy from just sitting upright. There was no way under the Sun she'd be able to survive on her own, in this state. Vision unfocused, knees weak, arms shaky; not to mention the aches and pains from her wounds, now awake and deciding to throb in sync with each other.
So rather than argue about it further, Talia simply lay back over, drawing her knees up as much as she could, and nestling down beneath the furs with a long, weary sigh. She closed her eyes, but her ears were working just fine; she could hear gears softly whirring, the small tink, tink of other machinery working away. Along with the smell of ozone, damp earth, and hot tin; all signs of an Oseram tinkerer's workspace.
James has several projects going but he's mostly put them on hold in order to take care of the Carja woman. Now that she seems out of the woods, he feels comfortable enough going back to some things and he is working on his Focus currently, trying to calibrate it. It's something he has to do from time to time and it's fiddly work.
"I never asked your name. It's going to be difficult to have a conversation if I don't know your name and I think it's rude to just call you Carja or Woman."
He smiles as he says it though, trying to keep it light.
"Talia," was her flat response. A few minutes later, she opened her eyes and watched him curiously, fiddling with some small piece of silver metal. Natural curiosity wanted her to ask about it, but she really wasn't up for a technical discussion right at the moment.
There were actually several interesting things scattered around his lair; she'd automatically catalogued a few during her initial glance about. Perhaps there was something else she could segue... Ah.
"Do you live alone?" She hadn't noticed any evidence of other humans in this particular space.
"I do live alone. Even if I didn't, I wouldn't have brought you somewhere unsafe. You were injured," James says, voice soft and even. "If I woke up in a room full of people after being injured, I would be terrified. I didn't want to do the same to you. I thought once you were healed, you could make your way back to where you needed to be."
He looks over at her. "But I'm afraid it's going to take you a little while before you heal up enough to be able to travel anywhere. I don't mind having you here. You aren't bothering me."
Well, that was something, at least. Apparently this Oseram didn't cahort with the rest of his tribe, although after seeing the clutter littering his lair, she could understand why. Delicate hands were required, here. There were half-finished projects scattered about, hot metal and sharp edges galore.
She wanted to disagree about her wounds, but deep down, Talia knew better. She knew she was hurt, and she knew that the best thing was to give her body time to heal, despite how frustrating that was going to actually be. The tracker in her knew she needed to get up and moving, lest she lose the trail of her quarry entirely, but there didn't seem to be much help for it, now.
"...thank you." A little ungracious, and entirely grudging, but give her the effort, at least. She wasn't used to owing others. "I owe you. James."
James doesn't spend time with his tribe for the most part because his work is something he likes to keep his own. He sells his wares like any Oseram does, yes, but because of his arm and the looks he gets because of it, he just would rather spend time on his own. While his people are comfortable with technology, they're not so comfortable when his entire arm is made of metal recovered from a Ravager.
"You don't owe me anything, Talia. I would do this for you regardless. You were injured and someone or something could have killed you even though you hid very well. It took my Focus to find you."
He has questions about how well she's able to hide but he thinks that's prying.
She had many questions of her own, but she wasn't really strong enough to ask them, right now. And she wanted to argue, given his response, because debts weren't things she took at all lightly. But later, yes. Then he mentioned something strange, a Focus, and her curiosity perked its ears again. She'd never heard of such a thing.
"A...Focus?" Dark brows lowered over glass-green eyes. "What sort of weapon is that?"
Although questions about that particular trinket definitely would not have been her first, if she'd seen his left arm, still covered by a forgemaster's vestment.
"It's not a weapon exactly. It helps me scan the area for things, picks up things I wouldn't be able to see with just my eyes. It picked up your trail. I don't know where they come from. I've only ever heard of them before I found and repaired this one," James says.
"They're certainly not as common as other machines. It's a damn shame because they're actually useful and not dangerous. I would much rather have more Foci than Thunderjaws. I got on the bad side of one of those about a year ago. I damn near died from it."
"Where did you find it?" She was instantly intrigued. She would have gotten up to look over his shoulder, intently, but her wounds kept her firmly on the cot. "In a ruin? One from the Old Ones?" She'd explored a few here and there, but hadn't really found anything useful or interesting.
Then he mentioned a Thunderjaw, and Talia's ears immediately perked. "I can believe it," she agreed. "Those machines aren't anything to tangle with, if you can possibly avoid it." The powerful monsters were scary as hell, and even she made a habit of giving them a wide, wide berth.
"A ruin," James confirms. "I damn near crushed it with my boot because I didn't see it at first but it's a good thing I didn't. I had to repair it still, it wasn't in good shape, but now it can do things I couldn't dream of doing without it."
As far as the Thunderjaw, though, he nods a bit. "Took my arm clean off. Something was in me to manage to get it down even though I was bleeding and by the time I passed out, I'd at least managed to tourniquet it so I didn't die. I managed to drag the scrap here and work on building myself an arm. I would have done a better job with my shoulder if I had someone to help me but...I'm part machine. Not a lot of people trust that."
"Let me see it." Not really a demand, more of a curious request. "Your arm." She managed to sit up again, though sweat dotted her forehead and her cheeks were flushed, eyes bright with a little fever. The idea that he'd built his own arm from machine parts was...amazing, and that it worked even more so.
"Please."
Ironically, she wasn't afraid of his proclamation; he'd saved her life, after all. He could have killed her a hundred times over before she'd come out of unconsciousness, but hadn't. And a melding of flesh and machine...that was worth something.
James draws closer so she can take a look at it. It's the best thing he's ever built and he's proud of it, truly, so he's eager to show her the marvel he'd made out of the machine that tried to kill him. The plates whirr a little with a soft noise and he draws close so she can touch it and look at it.
"I've been adding things over time. I can override machines with just the palm of it now - a tool comes out to do it. It's more convenient than the traditional way. I've been working on another weapon to put in it too but I'm not quite finished with it yet."
Her wounds, her quarry, everything else faded away as she gazed with wonder at the offered prosthetic. Green eyes went wide as she watched it move, flexing just like his own muscle would. A quiet whine and whirr came from beneath the overlapping plates, and Talia imagined that there must be small gears beneath it, providing such extraordinary movement and such fine motor control.
She watched him rotate his hand, palm up, and her breath unconsciously caught. "...James," the redhead dimly heard herself say, fascination playing over her delicate features. She lifted a hand, but caught herself just in time.
James has never shown it to anyone else. People are wary of machines, as they should be, and while his people tend to salvage and sell off what they're able to strip none of them have anything like this. He nods his head.
"Please, go ahead. I've never really gotten to show it to anyone yet so it's good for me to be able to actually get to talk about it. I spent a long time building it."
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He'd kept them in a little bundle and it's easy to fetch them and bring them back to the Carja. He puts them next to her bedside.
"I can get water for you to bathe off a little if you think you're up to it?"
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"...thank you," she finally told him, all but exhausted by the effort of simply getting dressed. Her wounds throbbed, her head ached, and she wanted little more than to cuddle back into the furs and sleep until everything felt right again. But it would be rude, and dangerous, to simply languish, wouldn't it? Besides, she didn't know this Oseram, or what he might think of a Carja assassin being so close.
"--is this your bed? I didn't mean to turn you out of it. I'll...manage on my own, now." Even if the effort of just sitting upright made her head swim.
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"I won't keep you here against your will but you're very injured. It took me a long time to wash and bandage all those wounds and some of them I had to stitch. At least stay long enough for me to get those stitches out in a few days?"
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So rather than argue about it further, Talia simply lay back over, drawing her knees up as much as she could, and nestling down beneath the furs with a long, weary sigh. She closed her eyes, but her ears were working just fine; she could hear gears softly whirring, the small tink, tink of other machinery working away. Along with the smell of ozone, damp earth, and hot tin; all signs of an Oseram tinkerer's workspace.
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"I never asked your name. It's going to be difficult to have a conversation if I don't know your name and I think it's rude to just call you Carja or Woman."
He smiles as he says it though, trying to keep it light.
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There were actually several interesting things scattered around his lair; she'd automatically catalogued a few during her initial glance about. Perhaps there was something else she could segue... Ah.
"Do you live alone?" She hadn't noticed any evidence of other humans in this particular space.
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He looks over at her. "But I'm afraid it's going to take you a little while before you heal up enough to be able to travel anywhere. I don't mind having you here. You aren't bothering me."
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She wanted to disagree about her wounds, but deep down, Talia knew better. She knew she was hurt, and she knew that the best thing was to give her body time to heal, despite how frustrating that was going to actually be. The tracker in her knew she needed to get up and moving, lest she lose the trail of her quarry entirely, but there didn't seem to be much help for it, now.
"...thank you." A little ungracious, and entirely grudging, but give her the effort, at least. She wasn't used to owing others. "I owe you. James."
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"You don't owe me anything, Talia. I would do this for you regardless. You were injured and someone or something could have killed you even though you hid very well. It took my Focus to find you."
He has questions about how well she's able to hide but he thinks that's prying.
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"A...Focus?" Dark brows lowered over glass-green eyes. "What sort of weapon is that?"
Although questions about that particular trinket definitely would not have been her first, if she'd seen his left arm, still covered by a forgemaster's vestment.
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"They're certainly not as common as other machines. It's a damn shame because they're actually useful and not dangerous. I would much rather have more Foci than Thunderjaws. I got on the bad side of one of those about a year ago. I damn near died from it."
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Then he mentioned a Thunderjaw, and Talia's ears immediately perked. "I can believe it," she agreed. "Those machines aren't anything to tangle with, if you can possibly avoid it." The powerful monsters were scary as hell, and even she made a habit of giving them a wide, wide berth.
"...is that what happened to your arm?"
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As far as the Thunderjaw, though, he nods a bit. "Took my arm clean off. Something was in me to manage to get it down even though I was bleeding and by the time I passed out, I'd at least managed to tourniquet it so I didn't die. I managed to drag the scrap here and work on building myself an arm. I would have done a better job with my shoulder if I had someone to help me but...I'm part machine. Not a lot of people trust that."
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"Please."
Ironically, she wasn't afraid of his proclamation; he'd saved her life, after all. He could have killed her a hundred times over before she'd come out of unconsciousness, but hadn't. And a melding of flesh and machine...that was worth something.
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"I've been adding things over time. I can override machines with just the palm of it now - a tool comes out to do it. It's more convenient than the traditional way. I've been working on another weapon to put in it too but I'm not quite finished with it yet."
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She watched him rotate his hand, palm up, and her breath unconsciously caught. "...James," the redhead dimly heard herself say, fascination playing over her delicate features. She lifted a hand, but caught herself just in time.
"...may I?"
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"Please, go ahead. I've never really gotten to show it to anyone yet so it's good for me to be able to actually get to talk about it. I spent a long time building it."