Shovel Whisperer

theflowerwitch:

At Amelia’s reactions, the witch let out a small giggle and she placed her hand over her lips; this time managing to contain her mirth. “It’s nothing you need to apologize about Amelia, really. Our introduction was quite unusual after all…” She replied, the memory of her first encounter with the archaeologist soon coming to mind. It was rather abrupt and surprising..at least, for the scholar anyways. Now that Amara recalled their meeting, she felt a twinge of guilt for shocking Amelia—she seemed rather rattled at the time. Though her little reminiscence brought one detail to her attention, her mouth parting to a slight ‘o.’

Harrison had not been there during their encounter. (Or at least, not to her knowledge.) She was about to tell Amelia this fact—in hopes of making the archaeologist feel less bad about not introducing Harrison—however, it seemed to be that Harrison was being scolded by Amelia.

“A-Ah ah he doesn’t need to Amelia, really…” The witch trailed off, her attempt to appease the archaeologist having failed as Amelia gave Harrison what seemed to be, “judging eyes”. While it was unsettling quiet, Amara knew that this couldn’t be good. After all, she had been on the receiving end of such stares before and she knew no one could possibly be fond of the perturbing feeling in their stomachs, shovel or not. The witch was about to say something to the archaeologist—possibly ask her not to be upset with the shovel—when suddenly, she started to yell.

“E-Eh??!” The witch jumped, alate even for a split second due to her shock. She wasn’t exactly sure what was going on—something about Harrison being excited or the sort—and couldn’t tell what to make of it when all she saw was a distressed Amelia chasing a shovel that supposedly wasn’t calm..? It was the first time that Amara felt that she could relate to humans and their feelings about magic, for she was certainly befuddled, despite being a witch.

When Amelia apologized, it took a moment for her to react. “A-Ah its alright..just a bit in shock, that’s all… ..?” She said in such an indistinct way, that it was hard to distinguish whether it was a statement or not.

 ”Oh, goodness. Again, I’m sorry, Miss Witch.” Amelia then gave Harrison another look. “See what you did? You upset someone who has powers beyond belief. I hope you’re happy.”

And, strange enough, the shovel was.

“That was quite peculiar, though, I must admit.” Amelia turned her attention back to Amara, her look now turned to one of worry. “Harrison hasn’t had an episode of that caliber since… gosh, since I left the academy at least. Yes, I think they only occurred in the first month of our travels or so. Something would set the fellow off, he’d have a right… freak out — for lack of a better term — and then he’d snap back to normal as if nothing even happened. One day he stopped having them altogether, which I was thankful for until he turned into the royal pain he is today. Although,” The scholar’s eyes narrowed as she studied her wooden and metal friend. “for suddenly having another episode, he seemed a bit…perkier this time around. Back then it was more panic than perk. Hm.” 

Amelia rapped Harrison on his blade a few times with her fist.

“Keep it together there, sir. One of us has to.”

(Source: whimsicalnotion)

marielledubois:

Amelia’s voice was quiet at the back of the church, but the emptiness and the shape of the building still carried the sound to Marielle’s ears. As her hands continued to move in her tea making, she listened to every word spoken by the archaeologist. The book indeed was in great condition - that much was evident even to her. The obscure texts she had read in other places were certainly not in the same condition. In this fact, it was especially wonderful to know that history was truly treasured and cherished where it mattered most.

Soon enough, two cups of tea had been prepared to drink. Placing them on a tray with some small, round cakes she carefully carried to over to Amelia. Marielle sat down on the same pew as Amelia, leaving space to place the tray between them. She folded her hands in her lap, giving the other woman some time to continue with her analysis - it felt like she was in a bit of a zone, a bubble of focus that would be criminal to interrupt prematurely. So she listened as Amelia continued, confirming her suspicions about the time the book was written. Not long after this, she pulled out what appeared to be a magnifying device and observed some text in the book more closely.

All the while, Marielle smiled. This passionate energy was quite invigorating! Fire was a quick-spreading entity, and the fire in a person’s heart was no exception. As she watched Amelia she felt a flicker of a new flame ignite in her own soul, one that sent sparks of energy throughout her body. Truly, Amelia had a remarkable and dynamic energy! She would certainly have to let her know in a moment.

When Marielle sensed an appropriate opportunity to briefly step into Amelia’s zone, she promptly spoke. “I’ve brewed some Sun Moon Lake tea - I think its taste suits the energy involved in this activity! Ah, but let me know if I can get something else to adjust it to your liking. There are also some cakes to go with it if you would like a bite to eat as well!” Marielle took a cup in her own hands and held it on her lap, waiting for it to cool a bit more.

Still taking advantage of her space in her zone, she went on. “You are an incredible person, with an energy and intelligence to match. May I ask you to spare a moment in your work - when you can pause the flow, of course! - to tell me how you got into this field?”

“What a wonderful fragrance.” Amelia said as she looked up from her reading. “Sun Moon Lake, you said? I’ve never tried that kind of tea before, but if the aroma’s a good judge I’d say it’s delicious already!” 

Only in recent months had she gotten into drinking a little more tea. She had sampled different types from around the world, sure, but the taste itself had never really appealed to her; it was all water with a hint of grass.

Unfortunately, the caffeine-addled, workaholic scholar knew she couldn’t subsist off of quite as much of her favorite coffee anymore — what with the good state of health one needed to keep to live a vagabond lifestyle these days. So, in recent months, she found herself slowly adding nutritious teas into her… admittedly limited list of preferred beverages.

“Oh, I-I wouldn’t say I’m an incredible person.” Amelia laughed when Marielle complimented her, unused to such flattery and unable to help bringing the book a tad closer to her face as she turned a slight tint of red. “Passionate, maybe. But incredible? No, I’m just someone who enjoys what they do, that’s all.” The compliment was nice, though. Harrison should be taking notes. “Thank you for bringing over tea, Marielle. I think this is a good spot to stop for a bit.” 

She placed the book and loupe aside in favor of a teacup and took a sip of the piping hot beverage. Was this tea, this “Sun Moon Lake” as Marielle had called it, meant to energize? Relax, maybe?

“Quite a unique flavor.” The scholar closed her eyes in contemplation. “It has a certain wonderful…something to it, but I’m afraid tea terminology fails me. I’d say it’s ‘flowery’, but it’s probably more ‘earthy’, and I’d say it’s ‘earthy’, but it’s probably more ‘flowery’, and what have you. Delicious, though,” She smiled. “that’s a word I’m certain of.”

Amelia hadn’t expected Marielle to ask her about her work. She thought the book had taken center stage. 

“Well, my grandfather was an archaeologist, and I really looked up to him. He gave me his old shovel — that would be Harrison — helped me get into the academy he worked at, and the rest was, well, history! Ah, pun not intended.”

(Source: whimsicalnotion)

marielledubois:

The shovel was polite! Marielle was delighted, even if she hadn’t truly understood a thing that just happened. Either way, if something positive had occurred then she couldn’t complain. In fact, she was happy - from the sound of it, Harrison was not typically polite. Amelia seemed pleased with his response too, which meant that everyone was happy! And that was truly something to cherish.

Soon after, once Marielle brought over the book, she was further pleased by Amelia’s response. The archaeologist seemed absolutely thrilled, and surprisingly prepared to investigate the tome. As she went through it in her own hands, the priestess could not help but smile broader every time Amelia made an observation. Surely something very valuable would be learned from her expertise! And so, she readily handed the book over once she was finished with it, and started to move to prepare some tea.

“Wonderful, thank you for your help!” Marielle gave a grateful nod. “I’m certainly very lucky that such a knowledgeable and enthusiastic person came by! Feel free to look around as you wanted, whenever you want. I’ll be right back!”

With that, the brunette moved to a back room to round up the usual tea-making supplies: her kettle, a burner, some cups, the tea itself, some snacks… Marielle had to make a few trips but soon all of the equipment was in the main part of the church, set up on a side table near the altar. As she busied herself in preparation, she spoke to Amelia again. “Feel free to share your thoughts aloud… if that works for you,” she said, half-suggesting and half-requesting. “I would love to hear what else you pick up from your analysis.”

Book in hand, Amelia seated herself in one of the back pews. The old wood, gently warmed by the sunlight streaming in from the church windows, gave a small creak in protest as the archaeologist tried to find the optimal reading position. This proved to be a tad difficult with Harrison strapped to her coat so she propped him up against the pew in front of them. Harrison didn’t complain. He didn’t say much at all, in fact, though Amelia just chalked this up as an effect of the church’s atmosphere; the interiors of holy places were intentionally designed to provoke quietness and meditative thoughts, after all. Not even a typically-unruly shovel was exempt from this.

“This is truly an excellent piece.” Amelia remarked, her voice also somewhat hushed, as she turned one of the pages. “It’s in wonderful condition, too.” 

She then said, with a hint of a good-natured laugh,  “A testament to good archiving, no?” 

During her travels, Amelia had been asked to appraise more books than she could count, and all too often their beauty and worth had been severely diminished by something as simple as the ways in which they were stored. Books could be surprisingly delicate creatures. 

“While I’m not seeing any dates written in here, you are certainly correct about the technological references dating this book to about a century ago. Also, some of the verbiage being used was more commonplace around that time.” 

The scholar fished around in her satchel again, producing a loupe this time. There was something about the inside front cover that caught her attention, and she wanted to get a much closer look at it. “Ah, I simply love linguistics.” She said as she flipped to that section and held it and the loupe up to her right eye. “It’s quite interesting how words and phrases that were once used everyday can fizzle out of style and become archaic. Somewhat like Harrison, here. The things he says sometimes make me wonder whether he’s fifty or one-hundred and fifty!” 

Apparently, the shovel took some form of offense to this — not that it showed outwardly — but he decided against sending a retort of his own. It was something about a pot and a kettle, but blast it all; even he didn’t want to start something in a church.

(Source: whimsicalnotion)