Grumbling to herself in frustration (HOW COULD THAT BE THAT flimsy!?), Setanta plops back down to work over the golem, wrapping its broken face plate in another vine. She's huffing and puffing all the while, but she will figure out this magic thing! She WILL!
With it reassembled, the lynx gives it a good long stare, as if expecting it to fall back apart on its own. When it proves steady, only then does she try again, reaching for that whisp of magic she hardly can reach.
And then the golem promptly falls apart like a cartoon skeleton disassembling.
"OH COME ON!" she screams, stomping her feet. "Ugh! I'm done. I'll do this again, later!" And then she storms off, a kid having a tantrum. But she very much did intend to return to this, to do it right. She's not letting the magic win, no way!
exit Setanta
The dwelling within Five Seven and Two was... luxurious, by Gembound standards. It was cozy, and warm, and... A lot less damp than she was expecting. Considering many slept on the stone floor of the caves, the antithesis of privation was down right intoxicating.
Zoey could not, however, enjoy the fragile tea set. She was aware of what tea was to some degree, though she had never had any, but she could tell at a glance the little china was likely prone to shattering if she wasn't careful. She crept around the porcelain, delicately prodding at the soft cousins with her talons in an attempt not to puncture holes in them.
"Ah," she clicked her mandibles politely, "you are... um. It is nice in here. I like what you have done with... Yourself."
The Room-Bound creature left its door wide open, which was a comfort, though it did remove any hope of privacy. She was not spared the Juggernaut's field of view as she had hoped, but she pointedly avoided looking out of the house toward him.
Even though a tiny, quiet part of her was imagining them sitting at this tiny tea set, cramped together in this little house, and discussing... Something. The gulf of emotions that seemed to swallow them up like a giant whale. Even without reaching her magic out to him, a quiet part of her knew. Knew that he-- like her-- still carried the weight of their last meeting together.
They would always share that burden. It did not make it lighter for either of them.
Zoey shook her head, quills rattling with the effort. She set down her not-yet-golem upon one of the cushions, and peered at it as it lay slumped in a pile upon the soft furniture.
Could she bring this thing to temporary, not-quite-so life? She wasn't certain. She had given her magic to many objects before, imbuing them with light or other magics. It must have been similar to enchanting, but... A little different. A true piece of herself.
It was hard to give such a thing to the object. Would it have emotions? She thought of her conversation with Vargas, about what it meant to live... What made them different from unliving things.
And then the little knuckle bone with fibrous arms began to twitch, and it raised its arms at her, stretching. It flopped back on the pillow, and then rolled, tumbling on to the floor of Five Seven Two, and then struggled to stand on its vines.
It... worked... But Zoey did not know how to feel about it. She hadn't given it a purpose, really, so it simply took to wrapping its vines around things and wandering about. It was cute, in a weird way, but now she had to sit with her feelings.
Living 'machines,' as you say. That does not make it meaningless. All meaning is only what you find in a thing.
Meaning. Purpose. Did it need to matter to this little creation? It mattered to her. Perhaps that was enough.
@Five Seven and Two
