Playing with toys. (Open to Any of the Tarakians. Cause I'm BORED.)

northernLIGHT · Hannibal's Hope

Playing with toys. (Open to Any of the Tarakians. Cause I'm BORED.)

VulcanBlades · Lethal Weapon V

Vulcan felt much the same way. Whenever something was bothering him, or there was something that he needed to keep his mind off of because there was nothing he could immediately do to fix the situation, the only way to cope was to go back to his weapons. That forge inside his workshop was the anchor of his life. It would always be there, ready for him to fire it up and go back to the wholly consuming work of blacksmithing, a source of all things beautiful and intricate and miraculous when used properly. It would never abandon him, cause him emotional pain, or create complicated problems with no obvious solution, and therefore could always be relied upon to make him feel better. Suffice to say that he understood when other people put aside their issues to focus on a weapon. There was nothing quite like it.

Fortunately for Trinity, the elder Kris member was oblivious as to the problems at hand. He had no idea the true depth and disturbing content of her troubled thoughts, and therefore didn't see any reason to be suspicious or overly concerned. It was a nice day, and from time to time, he liked to stretch his legs to the best of his ability and stroll around the encampment, greeting his fellow Tarakians as he passed them, stopping to chat here and there. When he saw Trinity's familiar form, her dark blonde head bowed over her work, he almost smiled; he had a fondness for the young woman that he didn't often show, but was nevertheless strong. She had a curious mind, a no-nonsense attitude that appealed to his own gruff nature, and a kind of single-minded devotion to her bow and arrow that he couldn't help but appreciate. Whenever she came to him with ideas, he was interested to hear what she had to say, and he rarely shook his head over them.

Although Vulcan didn't intend to spend much time hovering -- she seemed so focused and he didn't want to get in her way -- he wanted to see what she was doing, so he cut a detour across the grass, his wooden staff marking his approach with a quiet, steady thud every time it hit the ground. Kind of his signature. He was dressed lightly for the good weather, in a light grey work t-shirt and worn denim jeans, and his rubber-soled boots barely made a sound when he stepped. Pausing a few feet away, he wrapped his arm casually around the top of his staff and leaned his full weight against it so that he could peer curiously down at her project with his pale opaline eyes. New arrowheads, of course. She always did have good craftsmanship. "Nice work," he offered aloud with a small nod of acknowledgment, his voice low and even with just a trace of that foreign accent he'd never quite been able to purge entirely. Alright...maybe he would stick around for a little while to watch her test them, if she didn't seem to mind. Trinity with her bow and arrow in hand was quite a sight to behold.

"I haven't seen much of you recently." Probably his fault for having been hidden away in the workshop, but she did know where to find him if there was something she needed, so he couldn't be blamed entirely. "How have you been doing?"

northernLIGHT · Hannibal's Hope

Although she was lost within her own little world as she finished with fashioning her new arrows, the sound of the wooden staff hitting the ground wasn't lost on her as Vulcan made his approach. It was a familiar sound to her, and that was probably why she was able to pick it out, so easily, from the other sounds around her. She was just readying one of her new arrows for testing when he stopped a few feet away. It was then that she glanced up, opals flickering over towards the elder Kris member. At his compliment regarding her craftsmanship, she freely offered a smile that was somewhere a cross between one of her genuine smiles and a partial smirk. "Thanks," she returned, the curve of her mouth still etched upward. Tucking the arrows into their quiver, she pushed herself up to her feet, brushing the grass off of her with a small grimace. She'd been sitting too long, so it took a moment to work the kinks out of her legs.

As she waited for the pins and needles to fade away, she studied Vulcan carefully. He was one of the members of the Kris that Trinity truly liked. Of course, she revered the word of the Kris as a whole, respected all of its members, but Vulcan was one with whom she had more of an affinity. It probably went back to his own love and devotion for the weapons he forged, but whatever the reason was, it wasn't that important. What was important was that she hated Ariadne for making her swear an oath to keep things from everyone. When Vulcan mentioned he hadn't seen her recently, a hint of guilt swept through her, though the emotion was masked carefully so as not to give her secret away. She hated lying to him, even if only by omission; she hated lying to anyone, and she hated this helplessness that she felt where the Crone was concerned. If it were anyone else, any wayward youngster, Trinity would've gone straight to Vulcan with the news. As she thought about his words, she contemplated that, finally nodding slowly. "I've been doing alright. You know me. Always on the move or making something out of nothing." She grinned, referring to her toys and gadgets. "I am sorry I haven't been to see you lately, though. How are you?" It was a sincere question, and it was also the easiest way to try and get out of talking about herself and how she was doing. She wasn't sure she could keep the truth from the Kris forever, and her fondness for Vulcan was making it that much harder, especially when he was standing only a few feet away.

As she awaited his answer, Trinity let her bow open up to its full glory, and she couldn't help but feel pride in it. It was her favorite weapon because she'd created it herself. She'd spent months researching the technology to create such an instrument, and even longer learning how to set it up. While she was no blacksmith, she had a knack for putting things together and taking them apart again. The bow had been a lucky shot for her, but she was constantly making modifications to the trigger mechanism and the speed with which it sprung open. She pulled one of the arrows from the quiver, throwing another glance in his direction as she placed the arrow carefully into position, straightening her own form out. She had long ago perfected the art of using a bow and arrow. Her entire form was streamlined for just such a purpose, every muscle relaxed with the familiarity of each movement.

Drawing the bow back, her focus shifted briefly to the target in front of her. There was a bulls-eye painted onto the target, though she'd been very tempted to draw a crude rendition of the radioactively blonde vampire whom she despised instead of the regular bulls-eye. That would've pissed Ariadne off, though, and Trinity currently had enough stress on her plate to be more than motivated in not pissing the Crone off. Closing her eyes, fingertips released the string of the bow, relishing in the way the arrow sang as it shot forth, speeding ahead until it made its mark on her target. Opening her eyes, she noticed that the arrow had pierced the target, sure, but it had missed its intended mark at the dead center. Another grimace followed the realization and when she turned her head back towards Vulcan, it was still evident within her features. "Figures the one time I have an audience I get jinxed. At least you're the only one that was watching. Hannibal would probably never let me hear the end of it." The comment was meant to be playful, but she figured he knew that. She lowered her bow slightly, tugging another arrow out, though she didn't seem in any hurry to set it up, choosing instead to smile over to the other Tarakian.