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Smelt 2.7

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"So, to sum up that…" Cherie Vasil looked Ash Crow in the eye, a miniscule amount of actual pity welling up in her gut, "honestly terrifying… and, near as I can tell based on the sound of both your emotions, completely true story…" she pointed at Taylor; specifically, her armor, which was literally looking at her in the form of two red slashes on the breastplate, "You, Guts, who are now somehow bound to a suit of cursed armor you wore while alive, only for said armor to again somehow manifest from a row of metal lockers with your soul once more some fucking how bound to said armor-"

The source of Cherie's headache raised a finger, "Pretty sure I did something to the metal with my fists and… maybe my voice? I kinda remember a lot of screaming and hitting things; looking back, it was kinda musical, if really chaotic, so… I guess it wasn't exactly spontaneous. I guess." Taylor squinted and nibbled her lip, forearms on her knees and chin in her hands as she sat on a stump while looking stumped, "I dunno, my Tinker power's weird. It keeps going on about harmonic attunement of electron bonding chains and how that applies to blood as it's applied through kinetic discharges and thus infused into metal that's been, with aforementioned kinetic assistance, heated to a temperature of-"

"You punched Guts into existence." What in the fuck even was this girl!?

"I mean, basically?" Taylor shrugged; she blinked, "Guts says that sounds really badass, and not gonna lie, kinda proud of myself a little; but you were saying?"

Cherie's nostrils flared as she rubbed her temples against the blizzard-sized headache she had coming on; the situation was clearly above her sanity grade. Not for the first – or last – time, she wished Alec was there; half so he could give a witty quip to keep the tension down… half to shoot him in the knee with one of her Glocks.

Those rednecks really liked them, for reasons she, as someone who was very familiar with guns, found rather obvious: cheap, easy to clean, and effective. But Cherie was getting off track.

She stood from the tree she'd been leaning against, holding the insane teenage Tinker's gaze with her own, "Yes, that does sound absolutely hardcore; it's a little arousing, actually."

"Eww."

"Whatever, prude; this is beside the point," Cherie gestured at girl and armor again, "You are wearing the astral essence of another person, an older man who is, given everything you just told me, one of the scariest goddamn people I or anyone else has ever heard of, who fought monsters for a living, rode in alone against fucking armored lancers and beat the shit out of them, fought and killed nearly a hundred men in a single night by himself and with an arrow in one hand, and quite possibly was the tipping factor that won a centuries-old conflict, all without powers I might add… and that's just the tip of the fucking bloodberg."

That got her a confused head tilt, "Uh, I think it's called an ice-"

"I know what the goddamn fuck I said, Taylor. It is a fucking bloodberg, okay?" Cherie shrieked very calmly and quietly; on one hand, yay! There was someone highly experienced in military operations guiding this insane girl's choices. But on the other hand, said person – or soul, rather – was certifiably insane.

"Because even better, one of the bosses of a group of actual demon gods… was Guts' old boss, an unreasonably pretty, up-himself-so-far-he's-yodeling-in-his-own-skull asshole with aspirations of greatness, who – oh my – marked Guts here for sacrifice in a very Lovecraftian ritual that simultaneously made him, Mr. Yodel-skull, a quote-unquote "member of the demonic Godhand", of whom there are apparently fucking five, including Yodel-skull. And as Guts escaped, but was still branded for sacrifice, the souls of those who've died horribly are drawn to you, Guts… and you both decided that a former S9 battleground was a fantastic place to-"

"Okay, first of all, stop saying Yodel-skull; it sounds really stupid," Taylor interrupted, standing up with the sound of clattering plates and indignation from her partner, "Second of all, the Brand was a physical thing that did… metaphysical… oh." Realization slowly but surely dawned on the teen's face.

"Yeah," Cherie grinned brightly, nodding as the two insane idiots finally got it, "oh. Demons. Metaphysical beings. Brand attracts metaphysical beings. Brand applied by demon gods. Math, Taylor."

"But that still doesn't make any fucking sense, and that's my third point!" Taylor pointed at Cherie, but the doubt was building in her; while she wasn't cultivating that emotion, the daughter of Heartbreaker did wonder: how had this girl survived for so long, without thinking things through past a few steps? "Unless I hardwired the essence of the Brand into the armor, which would mean I needed to know about Guts' soul… I mean, why the fuck would I do that?"

After thinking about it for a moment, Cherie's eyes narrowed, "Actually… okay, so the question is, if he lived on another world, what's your power doing, making it so he's a part of your armor? There: we have a hypothesis, a question that must be answered through experimen-"

"I know what the goddamn fuck a hypothesis is, Cherie." Taylor deadpanned at her.

"Sorry, but with the way you behave, I wasn't entirely sure." Rage "Anyway, now that we have our question, all we have to do is build on that question until we find a plausible answer, which we will use until a better one presents itself."

"No arguments here," Taylor glanced down and smirked along with a grumpy burst of acceptance before meeting Cherie's eyes again, "From either of us."

…that was going to take some getting used to, Cherie knew it, "To follow up, I already have another question."

"Okay, shoot," Taylor huffed and muttered, "Might shake something loose upstairs."

What a wonderful summation of her mental state. "Do all your items talk to you?"

"Not like Guts does," Taylor nodded her chin in the direction of the Hummer, parked near the abandoned brick cottage they were going to spend the night in after a day of driving, "Xiuhcoatl is about the only thing that really gave me… y'know, the feeling of presence, but it wasn't really conscious. Everything else just feels like a tool I can use to make stuff."

"Xiuhcoatl… interesting name; it sounds like a form of Spanish. Am I close?"

"Mexican, really… Azteca in its roots, I think," Taylor replied, eyes going distant for a second- a small ruble of impatience came out of Guts, and the teen shook her head, "No, that's not my power; that's wiki walks."

"How would you know about the old languages of Central-"

"They were very enthusiastic wiki walks."

Cherie huffed and folded her arms, "Well, it registered as a person to my power."

Taylor gave her a skeptical look, "…or maybe your power can't differentiate between a person and a presence. Listen," she insisted when Cherie was about to make a counterpoint, "Some of the things I can make, the really serious stuff out of myth and legend, it has a presence to it; if you're not up to the standard of wielding that kind of power, it'll reject you."

Cherie blinked, "Myth and legend?"

"I'm… pretty sure I can remake Gramr, or Caliban as it's known elsewhere."

"You can make the antithesis of Excalibur." Cherish was just about done. And the PRT were really underestimating Taylor here; Tinker 6 her ass! "What about other stuff? Like, say, the Golden Fleece?"

Taylor shrugged and got that far-off look again, "I mean, it's not like we can get an African lion, but a mountain lion might be a good substitute. The rest of it is just a really long ritual involving gold, which is easy to make if I've got lead nearby."

Wait… "You… can turn lead-"

"Into gold, yeah," the absolute bullshit teen smirked a little sheepishly, "Something my power likes to do is use harmonic vibrations to change one material into a different one. Raw elements are easier than compounds, actually; making the first is like… like playing Frere Jacques on a piano. Very basic, so long as the base material's atomic weight is close to the desired result… or you could just take a pile of iron and smelt it in a bell smelter, using a couple vibranium sledgehammers; the same holds true for basic compounds, like most titanium and carbon-steel composites. And then you have the really complex stuff like vibranium, paragon's luster, and darksteel; if I tried to make those with the tools I have, it'd be like trying to play Free Bird with a broken accordion."

…Cherish realized what she had here, "You're not a weapon Tinker. You're a material Tinker."

"KInda?" Taylor frowned, "Thing is, I can't make most of that stuff unless I'm forging an item out of it. I could probably make ingots of rare or straight-up impossible materials, but I'd need to build up to that."

"But that's a start; your power centers around metallurgy, with an emphasis on weapons... and if the current pattern holds true…" it hit Cherish like a punch to the gut, "That Aztec whip-sword or whatever."

"Xiuhcoatl."

"Whatever. And… you mentioned Gramr," Taylor nodded with an uncomprehending scowl; how the hell hadn't she realized it? "Taylor, you can make weapons and gear out of myth and legend."

She shrugged! SHRUGGED! "Yeah, okay? I can make some of the Greco-Roman and Norse classical stuff, and elsewhere too, but none of it's fixed until I get a forge set up and see what materials I have to hand. All those big-name items stay as nebulous things in my head until I actually start the forging process for one of them, though the basic concepts are still there."

Cherish had to ask, "What about… Excali-"

Taylor rapidly shook her head with a wince, "No, don't even mention that thing…" she chewed her lip for a second before continuing, "I… I think I need some kind of definitive context for the weapon I'm making before it becomes an item I can Tinker; materials involved, the legend attached to the name, stuff like that. It's not so bad when it's simple, like Xiuhcoatl-"

"Taylor, you just turned a town into a volcano," Cherish laughed disbelievingly, shaking her head, "You call that simple?"

Unamusement…

"Does the name Senbonzakura ring any bells?" Taylor asked while folding her arms; when Cherie replied that it didn't ring any bells, the frowning girl explained, "I'm pretty sure I read about it while I was going through an anime wiki phase."

"That sounds really sad. In the pathetic way, of course."

Taylor sneered, at her, "You gotta make do when nobody wants to be your friend; needed to entertain myself on dark and lonely nights, in other words." The glare she was given made Cherie bite her tongue. "Anyway, Senbonzakura is a sword that, when used properly… well, it's an army killer."

"How so?" it sounded fun; could probably make taking out her asshole father really simple, too.

"Imagine billions of flower petal-sized pink blades, fluttering through the air like leaves in the fall, all under the control of one person."

In the distance, Cherie heard the ratatatat of a woodpecker, and other sounds of New England forests.

"…does it have to be pink?"

Amusement

Taylor snorted, "Apparently? Thing is, that would take me a few weeks to make, following an exacting and delicate process that I'd have to keep a near-constant eye on, Cherish, but the end result could dice entire cities with barely any effort. On the other hand, I made Xiuhcoatl in an afternoon with scrap metal and rocks."

"But if it's Tinkertech, you'll have to maintain it… no?" Ash Crow was shaking her head; given the topic, if it was true, that was… big. Really, really big.

"So long as the items are cared for – Gramr needs a specially-made blade oil, but that's it; Senbonzakura just needs sharpening every blue moon – everything I make is forged to last. Like, uh, your bracelet," she indicated the awesome bling on Cherie's wrist, which wasn't ever coming off if she had anything to say about it. "That'll last a few hundred years, as long as it's taken care of. Just run a clean silk rag over it every six months or so; it's very low maintenance."

…and, given what it did, would have heirloom status no matter where you were; it warded off "evil". That was worth more than the thing's weight in gold and jewels.

But that also brought up another point, one Cherish felt was finally the right track, "Okay, you can make all these things, but something makes them work the way they do. What is that?"

Taylor blinked, squinted, and made a grumpy sound; so either she was trying to put things into words – the frustration Cherie felt was probably indicative of that first one – or… she didn't know, and was trying to force it. Cherish really hoped it wasn't that-

"It's… tough to explain…" Taylor met her eyes, but it seemed like she was looking through Cherie, rather than at her, "Everything is vibrating, all the time; it's just how matter, and electro-matter, functions."

"Electro-what?" that sounded like a made-up word, and Cherish felt she was an authority on this; her father might be an incorrigible bastard, but also valued education. Cherie just wished they weren't all big-breasted and airy-voiced.

"Basically the electromagnetic force," Taylor shrugged again, armor clinking with the movement. "It, and ordinary matter, all of it vibrates along a series of wavelengths; things that give off a certain color of visible light do so because that's the wavelengths they're broadcasting to the wider universe. It's like an endless cacophony of look at me! At least, that's how most nonliving things look, when I'm really getting into my Tinkering; as for living things… I'm not sure, or my power isn't, unless a living part is a component, and even then, it's just a curiosity. Like, for example, the Golden Fleece could be a sleeve of plate-mail; actual materials involved may vary. But most living things are probably more involved in the esoteric nature of being than the stuff I can work with… Guts notwithstanding, of course.

"Anyway, pretty much everything nonliving has a… color, a flavor, a sound beneath the hammer; each one comes easily to me to me, along with a corresponding number that denotes quality based on those things, and I can get it at a touch. Factory-grade, cheap steel… it looks like an oil slick with chiming light inside of it, because of the random impurities that are inevitable in a steel mill. Platinum and gold are a little dull, if… fuzzy on the skin, but they also sound like… like bells. Clear and with a lot of tones; they're better for things with flash, pomp, but usually it can only do one or two things.

"Then there's the interesting stuff, things we don't have on Earth Bet, like vibranium, adamantium, darksteel, silverite, mythril-"

"You have Lord of the Rings in your wheelhouse?" Cherie boggled, because holy shit she wanted a Silmaril.

"Sorta? The throwing knives and boot knife," she gestured at her worn gear, "are all mythril. Even if someone's a Breaker who can turn intangible, or even invincible, they're designed to cut them; their edges vibrate on multiple wavelengths, so…"

She trailed off as Cherie raised a hand, thinking furiously; vibrations, metaphysical branding, and materials. The answer was right in front of her, she just need to reach out and grab it.

"You can't take the armor, Guts, off… can you?" Cherie hazarded, actually kind-of worried for her fellow brunette; oh, her powers were all sorts of awesome, but being mentally bound to someone else, inescapably at that… well, it was nothing short of a wonder that she wasn't completely stark-raving. Relatively speaking, of course.

"No, I can't," and there was the dual grumpiness indicating that neither of them were pleased by the arrangement.

Fair's fair: Cherie didn't think she would want to deal with Taylor on a 24/7 basis. She was… attractive; very much Cherie's type, at least. But the baggage the girl was clearly carrying needed a whole separate plane.

So, yes, she pitied Guts; just a little, though.

But as for her idea, she related it to Taylor slowly, literally making it up as she went, "So, if your power lets you effect the vibrations in a material-"

"I've thought of this," Taylor shook her head dismissively, "The armor's literally bound to my life force; doing anything to it that would negate that would kill me in a matter of seconds."

Nodding, and doing her damndest to stay patient and not get snippy with the angry Tinker, Cherie calmly amended her idea, "Alright, but how about this: instead of negating it completely, you make a… false positive or something; you modify a piece of metal and then, somehow… make, like, a choker that lets you take the armor on and off?" She shrugged when Taylor frowned at her, "Hey, I'm just throwing ideas out to see what sticks. You're the Tinker."

"And you have nothing to gain from me taking off the only thing keeping me from-"

"Hey, give me a little credit," Cherie waved a hand at the imposing plate-clad teenager, smiling in what she hoped was a harmless way, "You are my ticket to safety… and my dad's head on a pike. No matter what else I might be, I'm a woman of honor, Taylor; if you're gonna kill my dad, your mental and physical well-being are my priority. Because," she put her hands on her hips and gulped, "if you're off your game, we're both worse than dead."

Ash Crow stared at her for a really long minute, that dual storm of emotions roiling through her being the whole time.

"You're really shit at convincing people to do things, you know that right?"

Cherie grinned and shrugged again, "I'm a Master; usually I have someone to do this for me. But, really," the smile fell away completely, "the truth is, this means a lot to me, but I can't do it alone. That means trusting someone else and hoping – which is, in my opinion, stupid – that the other person won't stab me in the back."

Taylor kept up her stare for another minute before nodding slowly, "Alright… but I still don't see how my mental state equates to taking my armor off. I'm doing-"

"Taylor, stop talking nonsense," Cherie snapped, "You're mentally connected to Conan's badass granddad; this is not doing wonders for your already very fragile mental state."

She opened her mouth-

IrritationAnnoyance

-and shut it with a click and an expression of mild embarrassment. "I'm not that annoying to be around."

"Thank you, Guts; glad you agree that being in constant mental and physical contact with a teenage girl," she waggled her eyebrows and grinned suggestively, getting a blush from Taylor and a RAGE filled widening of eyes from the armor, but she went right back to seriousness right after, "isn't doing either of you any favors at all. Now, Taylor? As the Tinker of the group, is there a solution that involves… like, a power bracelet or tiara or something?"

"…I'm not wearing a tiara; and, ugh, let me think for a second," folding her arms, Taylor's eyes went distant for a long few minutes. Cherish spent the time catching up on her birdwatching; she'd spotted several different species of finch before a gasp from Taylor brought her back to the present.

Looking over, she found the teen with an expression – and emotion-tune – full of fear.

Still, Taylor swallowed and met Cherie's eyes with steely determination in her gaze, "There's a way."

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A/N: And with that nebulous promise, we end the second arc.

Yes, I know there's not too much in this chapter, but I'll try to make up for that with the coming four Interludes.

After those comes the third arc, Ingot. Hopefully it won't take too long.

Hope everyone enjoyed, and please keep the comments respectful. Ta!

~Baked