“That’s smart.” He noted. Del seemed to have a keen sense of survival on the road - not just barely survive, hanging on by thin threads, but how to take care of herself. Better than Cyran’s own sense of survival. When he’d been cast out, he didn’t have the necessary skills to handle life on the road. He had to learn, of course, considering it meant the difference between life and death for him. A nobleman’s disgraced son with nothing but a single knife to keep him alive, Cyran had to force himself to hone himself until he was sharp enough to come out on top of any situation. He started with animals first, small game. And then it escalated to people when he found he could make money off of it. And then it became him or them… and Cyran chose himself. Dug into the dark work that, unfortunately, came easy to him to keep food on the table.

But hearing Del talk about her experiences made him wonder if he’d simply taken the easier path.

There was no changing it now. Cyran’s path to becoming an assassin was an inevitability, no matter how he liked to think things might have been different. The killer’s instinct was not something he’d forced into himself. He merely learned how to harness it the way one would any blade.

… It did make him respect Del all the more for what she did. How she carried herself, though.

“I hope to visit under better circumstances, myself.” Many of his loved ones were from the Crescent Isles, and spoke of home fondly. And yet, every time he visited, he’d seen more of its misery than its beauty. “If I have the chance to make a trip this spring, I will.” The prospect sounded… lovely, if he could get a break to make such a journey.

The subject shifted to Shade’s Valley, and his reasons for opening it in the first place.

“I… thank you.” Cyran honestly wasn’t sure she deserved such praise. “She doesn’t live with me at Shade’s Valley… but I’m glad at the very least she has a roof over her head and stability.” As odd as that stability was. But he and Iryla had a place with Zarius at the Rookery, and he was endlessly grateful that the tiefling had given them both a place to stay. Having such noble acts ascribed to him, though, felt endlessly strange. Cyran had not done such a thing because of praise from others - he did not want to offend Del by voicing that he was not entirely sure what to make of such kind words or sincere appreciation. Empty flattery, he’d received before. But this was entirely more real.

He understood what she was talking about though. The satisfaction of creating something that does good with your own two hands. She obviously had a great love for what she did, and Cyran enjoyed greatly getting to listen to her speak.

“It’s a lovely sentiment, and one I agree with.” He said once she’d finished. They were things that needed to be done - and if you could, why not? Perhaps that sentiment was too idealistic, or led to people like Del being stretched too thin when she gave herself to the work she did for others. He hoped she would not work until she burned herself out. “I’m glad we have similar viewpoints. And I hope you don’t find that it’s in too much disrepair. It’s not much, but… it’s something I made.”

Eventually, they came to a stop in front of a single-story building made of stone, not much different from its surroundings. On the outside, it truly did not look like much, similar to the unassuming man who barely seemed to hold any kind of presence in the crowd he stood in. But it was sturdy, and still standing, and - as Del would learn as Cyran opened the door to invite her inside - warm.

The foyer was an entirely different scene than the orphanage’s outer walls. A few bookshelves lined the walls, surrounded by chairs and cushions all angled around a fireplace that was currently lit with a crackling flame. There weren’t that many children out and about right now - this time of day they were usually taking naps or playing in their rooms. The only person out right now was a human woman, without the usual mask she wore when out and about, her nose in a book. Even as she was relaxed, there was a sharp expression on her face, a permanent glower that Cyran had never seen leave her face before. She barely glanced up when they entered, giving Cyran a respectful nod before she noticed Del, and her eyes widened.

“Uh…”

Cyran jumped in before Andromeda could say anything else. “Eleanor, this is Del. She’s going to be helping us fix up some stuff around the place, so treat her with respect, okay?”

Andromeda stood, dipping low into a stiff, respectful bow. “Nice to meet you.” Spoken in a gruff manner - spoken from her, that was about as nice as an I love you. He would take what he could get, he supposed.

"Thank you, Del feels heat rise to her ears again at the praise, at being referred to as 'smart'. Not something she heard very often; to her, it wasn't anything especially clever. It just... came naturally to her, as easily as stepping into shadow. Even when she had finally left her mentor's cottage and took to the road herself, getting by, alone, in the wilderness, had not been too much of a leap. That was not something Del thought of much, if at all. Her mentor had simply... taught her well. That was all, surely.

Though she could not once recall getting pheasant trapping lessons from him.

Regardless, it was nice to be recognized. Living off the land was no easy feat; there was a reason she kept coming back to cities, to settlements. Solitude was nice, to a point, but there was no way to actively do any of the work she wanted to do that way. She had no idea how her mentor had kept at it for so long.

She smiles as Cyran accepts her praise; that stability had meant everything, Del was sure, and how often did people in his line of work actually hear kind words of support for what they did? Much less in Darkveil? Del was aware of the impact on the community, from what she could see, and it seemed positive. Though Cyran had seemed more skeptical, saying they tolerated him. In any case, she knew first hand what the people here tended to do when they didn't like someone, so the fact that Cyran was treated well spoke highly of how much he had accomplished.

"I'm glad too," Del agrees, actually a little surprised that they both do, so readily. Conversation was rarely this easy or this... productive. Usually Del was forced to stick to the surface of things, most of her interactions with others were shallow and brief. Transactional. This was already more depth than she had spoken with in some time, and she found herself holding back, trying not to leap into those thousands of questions she had or seeing where else their thinking converged. One thing at a time.

Something he made? Del blinks-- he had built his orphanage? Her eyes travel up as they approach the fine building; it appears made of stone, some igneous rock indigenous to the area like many of the buildings here, one story tall, unassuming. Strong, well constructed. A wonderful home. It mirrored the man who ran it very well, it seemed.

There's a twinge of excitement in her chest as she follows Cyran up to the door and inside. She had no expectation for what she would find inside, but the craftsman in her was eager to see what he had made.

Looking around at the interior, Del finds her heart swelling with pride at this space. It isn't cold, sterile, spartan or basic. This is a proper home. There are bookshelves filled with real books, full and plush cushions, comfortable looking chairs and a merrily crackling fire. The warmth, temperature and otherwise, hits her fully as they cross the threshold. There was only one other in this main room, a human woman who looked startled at first to see her. Cyran offers a quick introduction, and Del gives him a grateful look; the last thing she wanted was to start off on the wrong foot.

She could sense a tense crispness from the young woman, something that lended perhaps to her vocation here helping with the Orphanage. It would make sense to feel protective and wary with children around. Del bows in return, respectful and from the waist, but without any rigidity. "Nice to meet you too, Eleanor. I'm Delaela Asiliari, a carpenter and a blacksmith. I look forward to helping out here if I can." She straightens with a smile, lifting her gaze to look around. "Though I have to say, this place is... amazing, actually. I didn't have any expectations coming in, but if I did, they would have been blown away." She gives Cyran a smile and shifts her bag forward, looking between them. Such watchful eyes in this home.

"We could, ah, start with a tour? If you don't mind showing me around, I can give you a better assessment?" She suggests; she could always be left to her own devices, of course, but that didn't seem like the correct thing to assume. "And then we can discuss when you'd like the kids to get their gifts?"

“An artisan?” Andromeda’s eyes narrowed. Honestly, she’d expected the Specter to be bringing home a work friend for once, not some civilian he probably met on the street. But when she opened her mouth to say more, the Specter shot her a warning look that said, play nice, so she held her tongue. Andromeda knew the Specter was prone to charity and had a soft spot for pretty much every sob story he met. This was probably just another gal in need or something like that. She didn’t like it - though Andromeda disliked having anything to do with the Specter’s personal life, really. All of this playing house was something she had to do in order to learn from the best, which was why she put up with it.

“Hm.”

That was about as much as Andromeda could muster at the time before closing her book and stomping away through the hall down to her shared room with Oriole, leaving Cyran to give Del a sheepish look in apology.

“Sorry about her. Eleanor only came to work for me a few months ago, and she can be… churlish.” To say the least. “We’re still going through an adjustment period.” It was a learning experience for Cyran and Andromeda both. Andromeda was not the best with children, but where Oriole had understanding and compassion, Andromeda was the one who was able to get them to listen… and if necessary, hold the line and protect them in the event of any emergency. “You’ll probably get to meet Rhi’as soon enough, I hope. He and Eleanor are my primary staff members here. I have a few others that help out sometimes, but they’re the ones who take care of the kids in my stead.”

He moved to stoke the fire, meaning that Del would have missed the way his face flushed with a quiet sort of pride when she complimented the foyer. Once the wood and coal were burning steadily once more, he turned back to Del and dusted the ash off of his hands, far more composed than he’d been a moment ago. “Thank you. I refurbished this place from the bones of an old… church? Warehouse?” Either way, its true purpose could only have been for nefarious purposes, given the weapon marks that had littered the inside when he bought the abandoned home, or the secret stowaway room in his office that had been repurposed to a storage room and emergency hideaway. It was easy talk for a stranger to give empty platitudes, though, and Cyran could tell she meant every word of what she said. And hearing that, at least, warmed his heart.

Oh. Yes. Of course. A tour.

It had somehow slipped Cyran’s mind to offer one.

“Yes, I can show you around the place. It’s not too terribly large - only one and a half stories at the moment. Rhi’as should be cooking dinner right now, so once I show you around we can make our way to the kitchen and give the kids toys once they’ve all assembled to eat.” He offered before ushering her further inside.

True to his word - the Shade’s Valley Orphanage was not especially large. But it was homely, and had clearly been built with a lot of care in mind. She was shown the dining room, some of the playrooms - which were filled with no shortage of broken toys and things that needed fixing but looked otherwise happy. Eventually, he led her to the children’s rooms, where he found an empty one for now just to give her a feel for what the inside looked like.

They were just as peaceful as the rest of the orphanage, with enough beds to house at least two kids per room and more than enough blankets and stuffed toys to go around. Cyran had even hung up fake, small glass stars from the ceiling with small, luminescent flames contained on the inside, giving off just barely a small enough light for any child to see should they be afraid of the dark. He reached out to fiddle with one of the stars hanging around his eye level before turning to look at Del, who had been appraising everything thus far with the critical eye of a carpenter and the care of someone who all too well understood the grueling task of building and maintaining something of this level.

“What do you think? It’s not in too horrible a state, I hope?”

She can't quite parse the odd, terse interaction there. An odd reception to being informed she was an artisan, though not unusual-- though she was more used to skepticism than dislike. Eleanor gets a pleasant nod from Del nonetheless, confirming that she was, indeed, an artisan. As such, she does not catch the look Cyran gives her in warning, though he does offer more of an explanation once Eleanor makes her curt exit. Once she's gone, Del turns to Cyran with lifted brows, a bemused little smile turning up the corners of her mouth. If she was offended, it certainly didn't show.

And she wasn't; she had no way of knowing what had prompted that particular reaction, but Del understood it was less about her and more about Eleanor herself. That was nothing to be upset over. Only curious, if anything.

"I understand," she reassures, following Cyran to the fire, her eyes all over the interior while he stokes the fire. Idly, she looks at the mantle, running her thumb over the edge. Nice and flat, symmetrical, well placed. If this was a layperson's work, it was honestly hard to tell. "I can't imagine many of the people who come here do so in good circumstances to begin with. I think she'll come around," Del adds optimistically, turning her soft smile on him. Cyran truly seemed to want to do his best for those in his care, including the ones who were there to help him. "I look forward to meeting them all," her smile turns into an earnest one. It was very interesting to see who Cyran had surrounded himself with. And meeting the children later would be a wonderful experience.

"Was that the origin of the building?" Her gaze shifts up again. That would make sense. "You've done really well. Your care and attention to detail really stands out." To illustrate this, she reaches to the mantle and gives the end of it a light tug. It stays secure, and the smile she turns on him is an impressed one. "Sometimes when you see someone tackle a project like this without any prior experience, you have to rip everything out and start again. There's actually a very good, sturdy place to work from here. This place has not suffered from a lack of care, that much I can see."

The compliment, as ever, was genuine, but the reality behind it was also a mark of pride for Del, and part of the reason she was so impressed. Some of this wood could be refurbished or repurposed, and the parts that needed replacing would be quite simple to do so. This was only the foyer but there wasn't a single lost cause in here.

"Of course, that plan sounds good to me," Del's expression brightens, delighted to get a look around. It was strange to feel so... enthusiastic about a potential project like this, but she chose to relish the feeling. This actually felt like it mattered, like it would matter to this interesting man who clearly had worked so hard for this place to be a home for the children here. That, she was eager for.

Immediately, she starts making an itemized list in her mind. The dining room table could use a good sanding, she thought, smooth out those burs and grains a little. Perhaps a couple chair legs a touch on the wobbly side, doors that were loose at the hinges, weathered windows that let in a small draft. It was the little broken toys that made her heart ache; children could be so rough when they were in the midst of having fun that they could smash something to splinters if done in just the right way. The idea of them crying at breaking something so beloved spurred her into making sure that would be her first priority.

There was so much love here, she thinks, as she stares up at the faintly glowing glass stars overhead with a look of wonder. Her gaze drops back to Cyran's as he asks her for her opinion. One hand lifts, a bent knuckle resting on her bottom lip in thought as she compiles everything she'd seen. "Not at all; there's some good labour here that will need some time to complete; your floors need a little resanding, some baseboards need replacing, but all in all? There's nothing urgent or especially dangerous that jumps out to me," Her smile widens, crinkling the edges of her forked scar upwards. "Some things will start to fall apart a little faster with some of the extra use and exposure they get, but getting on top of that and reinforcing what you've done will be a wonderful task. Anything I can add on would just be an improvement of the work you already did."

The smile on her face showed just how eager for that she would be.

Her gaze drifts up to the little alchemical stars again. That was such a lovely, sweet touch. He put a lot of work in this place... that sounded like a man who was, perhaps, working himself very hard indeed. There was one room she hadn't yet seen, she noticed. "What do you tend to do in your free time, if I can ask?" Del asks, seemingly out of the blue.

Internally, she balks. Oh, now that was forward, surely. Del clears her throat, offering a wry smile, "I mean, ah, you seem to spend so much time with this place-- do you get any time for yourself in the midst of all this? Doing things you like to do?"

“We did not meet under the best of circumstances, either.” Cyran continued, choosing his words carefully once more. He’d met Andromeda some months ago, on a job. A contract for a young Eleanor Leistat. One he couldn’t bring himself to go through, not when he’d met a young, broken woman who demanded that he take her under his wing, that she could be valuable to him. He hadn’t told a single soul the truth about how he met his apprentice for the first time, but it often came to mind whenever he watched Andromeda interact with others. “When I offered her a job, I don’t think that this was exactly the kind of work she had in mind.”

As he spoke, Del paced the foyer, assessing every detail, the make of the wood and the construction of the furniture with a fine attention to detail. She did not merely investigate - Del moved like her craft was so ingrained in her that it was a subconscious act. She embodied it. And her appraisal, so far, was a glowing one. It was obvious that there were areas that needed to be improvement, broken planks from little hands still learning their own strength and magic, but hearing that it was livable, and workable, was a relief. “I’m glad to hear that. It did not get done without much blood, sweat, and tears…” He raised his hand, which was covered in little nicks and scars from careless knife-cuts born from learning how to wield the blade, and plenty of cuts from wielding tools that hadn’t quite healed right. “And splinters.”

The rest of the tour progressed in a similar manner. Del, once more, understood exactly what needed to be done and what could be fixed throughout the tour, marking down everything mentally for later. Cyran, on the other hand, made sure to compile together a list of the materials she might need, the finances she’d require so he could give her the necessary funds to accomplish what she’d set out to do. By the time they finished, Del seemed like she had a good idea of what needed to be done, and Cyran had a better idea of how to give her the tools to do so.

“I’m pleased to hear. I’m sure you can understand why I’d like to keep the place well-maintained.” Much easier to perform constant little repairs than deal with the fallout of a bad infrastructure. “Everything you have in mind will most likely take a while… in addition to dinner, or meals, the guest room is yours while you’re working - if you want it, of course.” He immediately began to backtrack. Had that offer been creepy? He thought it was only the natural thing to do, but that kind of invitation might come off the entirely wrong way. He cleared his throat, toying with one of the alchemical stars simply to have something to do with his hands. “I want to make sure you have all the resources you need to work.”

Del’s next question came entirely out of the blue. Cyran’s brows furrowed, unsure what to make of it even as she explained… until he understood. “Oh.” He fell silent once more as he contemplated his response. Truth be told, he had little time for hobbies these days, as regrettable as that was. There was too much dashing around here and there for whatever contract needed to be taken care of, kids to look after, the orphanage to maintain. Hobbies were a luxury for a man like him.

But Del looked so earnest. Like she genuinely wanted to know.

“I don’t think I’ve had much time to do anything I’ve enjoyed lately.” He replied with a shrug that carried an air of forced nonchalance. “But there are a few things that I’d love to do if I had the time to do so. I’ve always had a fondness for… birdwatching. And stargazing.” They might have seemed like rather boring hobbies, but he remembered enjoying them back when he still lived in Eclipse City. He remembered sneaking out to the Lantern Light Woods on nighttime walks to watch the night skies, and stay out until he could watch the birds with the sunrise. They were things he found great peace in, once upon a time.

“Um. What about yourself? Is there anything you enjoy doing in your free time… not related to work or carpentry?”

Del lifts her brows in curiosity; what sort of work had Eleanor assumed she would be undertaking under Cyran? It made sense that they hadn't met under the best of circumstances, given what little she knew so far, but if that were the case, did she simply not enjoy being caretaker to orphans, or was there another task Cyran could have assigned that she would have preferred?

She keeps that question to herself for the moment; maybe it will reveal itself in time. No reason to ruin a potential good thing while they are getting along so well, so far. Del looks at Cyran's hand as he shows her, and she cannot help but smile, seeing the telltale faded scars of a life of work. Some looked like they had come from sharper blades, too, but that was not unusual. Smiling, Del holds up her hand to his; covered in scars, some fresh and many old, burns, callouses and cuts alike. The back of her hands also tell the story; her knuckles are scarred as if they had been repeatedly struck... or repeatedly struck something. "We match. Oh, gods, yes, the splinters," her laugh follows her as they go about the house, finding the things that needed to be taken care of.

"Makes perfect sense, yes," Del agrees emphatically, inspecting one of the door frames. A little old, could be better replaced. Her gaze lifts, surprised, as Cyran offers her a place to stay, here, in the Shade's Valley.

It touched her in a way she couldn't quite quantify. She tended to avoid the taverns here in Darkveil because... well, it was Darkveil. When people hung out in groups, there was a better chance of being spotted and recognized. Outdoors, while risky due to being exposed, meant she had more control over her environment. Because of that, Del knew exactly how long it had been since she had last slept in a bed.

"I could-- ah, yes," her voice pitches up a little and she has to clear her throat as well. Del watches Cyran fiddle with one of the little alchemical stars. They are bewitching; she looks at them, too. "Yes, ah, if I wouldn't be imposing... it would certainly be convenient. For both of us, I think. I would be happy to pay you for the room and board as well," she adds; the last thing Del wanted was to take advantage of Cyran's hospitality and generous nature.

Was that wise, she wondered? Would her remaining her put people at risk? Only if she wasn't careful, and so far, she had been. So far, things were going well in Darkveil. It was only for a short time, she figured; once she was done, she likely would have no further reason to stay, and it was for a good cause. And... she was still curious about Cyran, his connection to the shadow, and how he had seen.

Seeing her question about hobbies has taken him by surprise, lapsing into a thoughtful silence, Del almost backpedals, concerned she had made him uncomfortable. It's a relief when he does answer, and she smiles, hearing what he had enjoyed-- and that he rarely got time to do it. "Those sound like a lovely way to pass the time. Very peaceful, meditative." Something she could certainly appreciate.

...oh.

She was not expecting the question to be turned on her in kind.

"Ahh," She says, lifting a hand to brush over the curls of her hair, and gives Cyran a sheepish look. "I don't... find myself doing a lot of hobby... things, I'm afraid. I whittle, you know-- the toys," she lifts the bag-- no, bad example. That was carpentry, "And I... people watch. Which you know," a small laugh leaves her at that, considering how they had met, only a short while ago. But those weren't hobbies. Del wracks her brain, thinking. What else did she do in her spare time? "I do enjoy watching thunderstorms," is what she says, cheerfully, as if that's a good answer.

...What thunderstorms had to do with hobbies, Del did not know, but at least it was something other than 'My day to day life involves survival to a degree that I don't have any activities I do for pure enjoyment lest I let my guard down', so, she would take that. She tucks a loose tuft of curl behind her sharp ear, a little embarrassed. "Tends to be... rather involved, paying attention on the road."

Cyran felt much less embarrassed seeing the work reflected on Del’s own hands, scars that spoke of years spent focusing on blacksmithing and carpentry… and discoloration on the knuckles that Cyran was accustomed to seeing on bare-knuckled brawlers. He’d fought against plenty of unarmed fighters in his life. Zarius and Seiya came to mind. It did not surprise him that rather than using weapons, Del’s entire body was a weapon. How experienced was she in battle? He knew she was no ordinary person, not from the way she was able to hide so naturally in the dark like she belonged there, but Cyran was… curious, to say the least. Where she’d come from. What she’d seen.

Those were not polite topics of conversation, though, so he held his tongue and continued on with the tour. Del’s insistence that she pay for the room he was offering her so that she could stay and conduct business here comfortably was endearing to say the least - Cyran had to suppress a smile as he wondered how much further they would draw out this game of refusing to accept things. He waved his hand, barely brushing against the hanging stars. “You do not need to pay me. I assumed room and board would be part of my own payment to you. I am not sure how long everything will take, but I am not going to rush you. Nor would I ask you to spend all day around a gaggle of children only to return to the Dancer’s Den and sleep surrounded by a gaggle of drunkards.”

Shop talk, surprisingly, turned to hobbies. Cyran didn’t often have the chance to reflect on his hobbies, much less engage in them. Looking at the stars was much less romantic when one was sleeping day to day on a cot in the open road, and birdwatching was less fun when one was hunting them for sport. He was more stable now, and slept under a roof rather than from inn to inn and out on the road, but rarely did he have the chance to do such things for pleasure these days. There was too much to be done, and oh, he was so tired these days. Truthfully, he hadn’t even thought about engaging in such things in… years, until Del brought it up. The thought made him long for the open night sky in a way he hadn’t realized ached until he was made aware of the hurt.

“Quite meditative.” He agreed with a nod. “It’s nice to simply… exist, and forget yourself while you watch something else.”

Del looked shocked that Cyran redirected the question back to her - for a moment, Cyran wondered if he’d unknowingly tread into dangerous territory, and that these were more things she couldn’t rightfully remember, but those fears were assuaged when she kind of… clammed up, struggling to think of things she did that weren’t work related. Eventually, she settled on thunderstorms, a bright smile on her face.

“Thunderstorms are lovely.” Cyran agreed. It was not that different from watching the stars, he thought. There was something relaxing and comfortable about the great and vast unknown, the unexplainable sky and the phenomenon that drove them. To lose yourself in Ziev’s emptiness and Avasha’s wrath. And thunderstorms made sense for someone who carried such a fierceness about her. “The storms in Dragon’s Cradle are a sight to behold, if you haven’t had the chance to see one yet.”

Del looked sheepish as she admitted that it was difficult… to invest in one’s self when focused on survival. Cyran nodded. He would not press what she was surviving from, either.

“Well. I hope you may find the time to try out some new ones while you’re here.” Perhaps… he would be able to try some with her. It felt too forward of him to ask, to intrude on her life in such a way. But the offer was tempting, on the tip of his tongue.

Before he could ask, though, the ground beneath his feet began to shake.

Cyran’s eyes widened - his natural grace prevented him from losing his footing, but the same could not be said for the furniture.

“Earthquake!” He called out in warning as the beds and bookshelves rattled dangerously. The quake did not last for long, and stopped just as soon as it had started, but the event still left Cyran rattled.

These had been happening more often lately.

“Are you okay?” He turned to Del, eyes wide. He needed to check on the children, make sure everything else in order - but his first worry had been about his guest.

For a moment, Del's expression takes a stubborn slant, about to argue in favour of paying her way for staying in a guest room here while she helped fix the place up... but finds that she can't quite get herself to do it. Instead, the set of her jaw melts into a crooked smile, relenting. Who was she to turn down such generosity, when she would insist on the same in a heartbeat were their positions reversed? "I can't deny that you make fair points. I shall just have to make sure my stay will be worth your while," she gently teases as they walk, putting up that token resistance to ensure there was an equitable exchange. If Cyran would insist on paying her and providing room and board, then Del would ensure that not one proverbial stone went unturned.

And... it would be nice to be in one place longer than a week.

It was deeply pleasant to listen to Cyran talk about his interests, though they seemed as sparse and as well tended as her own were. A workaholic, not at all unlike herself. His hands did not speak of someone who tended children, though; they were labourous, hands that saw frequent use and skill. Not even in the scars that lined his skin; the tense strength and agility she could see beneath his skin, nimble and muscular. His hands themselves were like knives. On what sort of stone did he whet them upon?

"That's it exactly," she agrees, stepping on a floorboard with her full weight. The joist creaked, but it wasnt unhealthy. It could be reinforced. Del looks up with another smile at the mention of the storms in the Dragon's Cradle. "That they are. I've only ever passed through the Dragon's Cradle on the shorter route down from Frost Gale; I've ony ever seen them from a distance, but even then, they were spectacular."

New hobbies, though, now there was a thought. How did one even get hobbies? Where did one even start? "I certainly hope so, as well. Being in new places helps expand horizons and especially with--"

Del pauses, the ground... moving? Beneath their feet. As Cyran voices what it is, she braces herself, feet holding fast to the floor as the floor moves from a rumble to a roil. It stops after a few seconds, the tremor abating quickly.

Sure it had stopped, a little spooked, she looked back to Cyran. ...Gods, how long had it been since she was asked that? "I'm--"

Above them there's a snap. Two of the hanging alchemical stars is shaken loose from its mooring, and falls. Without thinking, Del's hand darts out above Cyran's head, snatching the light out of the air to catch them, catching one in her palm, and then the other on the back of her hand as she turned it over.

Exhaling a rough breath, Del slowly withdraws her hand to show Cyran the rescued stars. "Yes, I'm alright Are you?" Her eyes filled with concern look Cyran over searchingly. He had appeared to hold his balance... incredibly well. Either he was used to this or--

Later. Surmise later. She looks out the room to the hall, and back, once Cyran gives her a response. Knowing he would want to look in on the kids-- she did as well--, Del says simply, "I can help with the others, if you need." It was easy to be anxious about anyone else who might have been in a less advantageous position when the quake struck, much less the children.

“I’ve had the chance to stand in the middle of one.” Cyran recalled. It had been some time ago, the remnants of the memory lingering in his mind. The rain pelting his skin, the stray strikes of lightning illuminating the pitch-dark sky. Of course, that had not been a visit for pleasure, either. “It was… turbulent.” He winced at his rather obvious and lackluster description. “I recommend paying a visit if you enjoy the scenery. You won’t be disappointed.”

Any further musings on stars and thunderstorms were interrupted by the earthquake that built around them. As gone as quickly as it had started, leaving the room’s occupants reeling from their brains rattling in their skulls. In that immediate moment, Cyran’s eyes were trained on Del, scanning her for any possible injuries or nicks - a silly sentiment, given that nothing had fallen. Del faltered, as if the question of her own safety hadn’t even occurred to her -

And then the sky above him began to fall.

Instinct kicked in first, Cyran’s body ducking out of the way of the projectile, but the hand that snatched the falling stars out of the air was faster. An uncanny reaction time, so quick his eye was barely able to follow the movement. He could only gape as she handed the string of unbroken glass back to him, concern in her gaze. Those were not the movements of a simple smith. Cyran’s breath hitched as he accepted the ornaments, setting them down on a nearby bed for now. “I’m fine.” His voice was vacant and faraway, for a moment - he blinked, forcing himself back to the matter at hand.

The kids.

The kids!

“Yes, I - we - we need to go check on everyone and make sure they’re in working order.” He rested a hand on the hilt of his dagger, moving on muscle memory. “They know the drill. Everyone should be in the foyer, ready to evacuate in case of an aftershock.”

He wasted no time making his way down the hall at a brisk pace, not needing to look backwards. Del had offered her help, he didn’t have time to think about whether she would make good on her word or not. He had a feeling she wouldn’t be far behind.

As expected, the kids were huddled in the living room, fear trumping their usual chaos and disobedience. In a crisis, they knew how to listen to orders. Such events, unfortunately, were becoming more commonplace as the months stretched on. Cyran spotted Tarquin, one of the oldest kids and unofficial leader, of sorts, ushering some of the younger kids around and speaking with them in hushed tones. Standing guard around the children were Andromeda, and a young, nervous man that Del hadn’t met before - Oriole, or as he would be introduced later, Rhi’as Myrril.

The two apprentices snapped to attention the moment they saw Cyran approach, haste in his stride and a cold expression on his face that said he was no longer in the word for games. That ice softened, a brief moment, as he did a headcount on the children and made sure everyone was here - but there was no place for such softness in the middle of an emergency.

“Eleanor, Rhi’as, report.”

“I was in the kitchen getting dinner ready when it happened.” Rhi’as’s soft voice was barely audible over the childrens’ nervous chatter. “Nothing broken in there.”

“Kids are alright, too.” Andromeda continued. “Lila took a tumble and got a nasty bump on her head, but no other injuries.”

The tension in Cyran’s expression eased, replaced with an older, weary look. “Good.” Broken things could be mended. Their safety could not. “Good.” He turned to the children, attempting to look as casual as he could. “Alright kids, you know what game we’re going to play now.”

Groans chorused through the children as they knew what was to come. Cyran winced in sympathy - he knew that this part wasn’t pleasant for any of them, but it was for their own safety. He turned to Del, an apologetic look on his face as he lowered his voice.

“The waiting is their least favorite part. It’s cold and ash gets everywhere… and it’s difficult to keep them entertained while we wait out the danger.” He warned, apology in his tone.

"Ah, good. I'm glad." She exhales a breath of relief. There was a distant note to Cyran's voice as voiced his own safety that Del noted, found... that it made her nervous in an odd way; like he had seen her again and was processing something. His stunned expression as she handed him the stars seemed to solidify that-- he had not expected her to move this way. Unsure what that meant, if she had crosse a line, Del scrambles for an explanation. Before she can ask if he was sure he was alright, the focus is drawn to the children, and the matter slips entirely from her mind.

"Of course," She follows behind him, stepping slightly left as if covering a flank. An unconcious gesture. Her eyes drop again to the dagger at his hip where his hand rests, an unconcious gesture of Cyran's own readiness she recognizes. Del had seen it in the market-place earlier, but this time it was clear this was a second nature gesture, not a potential warning. The scars on his hands, his ease of access to his weapons, the forward momentum of seeking his goal, in this case, attending to the children... what sort of orphanage manager was he?

This is further brought into question as Cyran greets Eleanor and Rhi'as with a quick, formal instruction. Her brows lift slightly; There was a sort of military precision about it, as if requesting a debriefing. The two other orphanage staff stood at taut attention, and Cyran himself was... well. A force to be reckoned with. He was clearly at the helm here, wading in to the situation with a surety that showed he was ready to issue commands if needed; his tone even has Del's spine straightening a but. She listens closely, remaining sentinel still just a step beside and behind him.

Her eyes shift to the children that have filed into the room, looking uncertain and a little frightened. It's re relief to know that they are largely unharmed, but she can onl imagine how jarring it is to have this happen, and with such regularity. She'd experienced two in her days here; was the volcano getting ready to erupt?

Hearing the tension ease out of Cyran's voice as he looks to the children, Del cracks a smile, allowing her own shoulders to relax. The children did not seem particularly fond of the idea. She couldn't exactly blame them; they had been in the middle of something, a nap, some play time, perhaps a book, when their day was turned upside down. As Cyran turns to her to explain apologetically, Del gives him a crooked smile, her own tone low to match his. "Let me see if I can help with that."

She steps forward and drops to a slow crouch in front of the kids. "Welll, you know, if we don't go outside, I can't show you the surprise Cyran here has for you."

That sparks a little interest in the eyes of the children, but the one who appeared to be the eldest looks skeptical. "Who are you?"

"I'm Del. I'm here to do a couple repairs in the building for a bit. It's nice to meet you all." she inclines her head to them, eyes lowered.

"What kind of surprise?" Asks a little lizardkin, looking around the older boy.

"I think we're going to have to go outside and find out, aren't we?" Del gives them a teasing little smile.

A little tiefling girl raises her hand, polite and endearing. Del nods, and she speaks up. "You have big arms; are you really strong?"

Del utters a startled laugh, and nods. "Ah, thank you. I like your horns." Her smile widens as the little tiefling giggles, and she gets an idea. "Why don't we find out?" She stands, holding out her arms by her sides; chorded muscle. "Let me see how many of you I can carry. Who wants to go first?"

The novelty of the act seems to jar the kids a little from their dislike of going outside and the remaining fear of their situation. The tiefling girl comes up first, and Del lowers her arms just enough so she can get a grasp before she's lifted again, dangling from the carptenter's extended arm with a squeal. "Whoaaa!"

The others quickly follow suit; Del quickly has six children hanging from her arms, three on each; she could probably carry more, but there was only so much room on her arms for the smaller children to comfortably be carried. They swung there, pulling on her arms as if trying to get Del to drop them, the failure of their efforts bringing a chorus of giggles. "Mmm, I don't know, I think this is still too light. Let me see." Del starts walking forward, her steps unburdened, as she starts guiding the children out of the orphanage.

"I want a turn!"
"Me next!"

The kids who were unable to get a ride on Del's arms call out as they follow, single file, to the exit of the orphanage. She looks over her shoulder to Cyran and Rhi'as and Eleanor with a smile, so they can lead the kids through the standard procedure once they're outside.

Del handled the children with a grace and attitude that eased Cyran’s tension. It wasn’t long before the children were far less focused on the scary tremor and more focused on the strong, powerful woman with a smile like the sun who was strong enough to sweep them off their feet. She was powerful, every bit the kind of warrior princess they read about in stories. Cyran took a step back. He didn’t even need to intervene as Del handled herself. A few even glanced at Cyran curiously, curiosity brimming in their eyes. Surprises were rare around here, treats even more so.

“Yes, a surprise.” Cyran nodded, grateful that Del had managed to so smoothly grab their attention. “Miss Del is here on a special mission, but she can’t finish that mission until everyone is outside.”

Some of the kids looked between Del and Cyran, confused. It wasn’t until Zassi, the lizardkin, spoke up that the others began to inch closer, curiosity overcoming their unease around strangers. It was Alix, the tiefling, that finally broke the ice, approaching Del’s side so she could feel Del’s muscle. There were stars in her eyes, her dress swishing as she hopped up in an attempt to be the first that Del carried outside. Soon enough, all the kids wanted to try something new, like they were being offered a ride at a fair.

Once Alix hooked her arms around Del’s, taken for a joyride into the air with a happy squeal, high enough that she could kick her legs in the air, her tail swinging behind her, the other children decided that they wanted to play, too. Soon enough, the younger ones had already swarmed Del, all clambering to be the one she picked next. In a few seconds she had five hanging off of her arms, suspending them in the air like they weighed nothing at all. Her amusement was clear on her face, delighted to go the extra mile and ensure that the kids were safe and happy on the way out. And she was so strong, too, muscles hardly even straining from the weights suspended off of them…

Ahem.

Cyran cleared his throat, tearing his gaze away as someone tugged on his pant leg. He looked down, surprised to see one of the youngest members of their ranks staring up at him.

“Headmaster Cyran?”

He bent down, closer to Samantha’s eye level. “What can I help you with, Sammy?”

Her eyes were watery, brimming with unshed tears. “I can’t find Blackberry Cheesecake anywhere.”

Cyran glanced around him, unsurprised to find that the cat-sized creature was nowhere to be found. He sighed. “I’ll go find her, okay? Until then, why don’t you go see if Miss Del will give you a free ride outside?”

She gasped, pressing her hands to her mouth, all her sadness over the orphanage’s missing pet forgotten. “Oh, can I?”

Cyran straightened once more, brushing ash and dust off his pants. “Of course you can! She looks pretty full, but you’re pretty tiny. I bet she’d be willing to make an exception and add one more passenger. Let’s go find out.”

He picked her up and brought her over to Del. “Got room for one more?”

Del merely laughed and maneuvered herself so Cyran could hook Sammy off of a spot on her right arm.

“You all can go on without me. I’ve got to go look for the kids’ pet. She’s hiding around here somewhere…” He waited until Del was making her way outside, the others toddling after her in a single-file line like ducks with Oriole and Andromeda made their way outside. He turned back in, making his way quickly through the children’s rooms, peering into crevices and under beds until he eventually found the moth in Oriole’s room. The young man kept any manner of oddities and lights from Zeinav, which the moth was pawing at.

“There you are.”

The little capricious creature kicked her legs into the air, wiggling as she attempted to get out of Cyran’s grasp, upset at being interrupted from consuming her tasty light snack. “Oh, don’t give me any of that.” He chided. Umbra - or as the children had elected to call her, Blackberry Cheesecake - was quite the docile creature, which made her a good therapeutic companion for the children. But sometimes she had quite the attitude.

Meanwhile, on the outside a safe distance away from Shade’s Valley, Del was swarmed with a bunch of children who were throwing a plethora of invasive questions at her.

“Are you a warrior?”

“What’s the biggest thing you’ve ever lifted?”

And then, one innocently shouted question, “Have you ever killed a guy?”

Oriole approached Del, anxious as he fiddled with his overcoat. She was a rather confident and intimidating woman - Oriole wasn’t really sure who she was or why Master Cyran had brought her here, but she was obviously someone worthy of respect. It took him a moment to gather the courage to speak, the young thief’s voice soft.

“Sorry, they’re… really energetic.” He whispered, a wobbly smile on his face that made Andromeda roll her eyes. “They like you.”

A few moments later, Cyran reemerged with Umbra, who immediately wriggled from Cyran’s arms and fluttered over to perch on top of Sammy’s head. “Thank you for taking care of them.” He bowed at her before giving her a crooked smile. “Now, are you ready to give the kids their presents?”

At the word presents, several children immediately swarmed Del like hyenas looking for a meal.

Del does not know who Blackberry Cheesecake is-- a pet apparently. That was important indeed. She nods and gives him a reassuring smile, arms filled with dangling, giggling children. "Of course, take your time. Got to make sure everyone gets out safe, right?" Pets were family too.

As she and Cyran's two orphanage staff take the kids outside, there is more room to play in earnest. Now that they don't have to be too careful about being under a structure in the event of further aftershocks, and the kids themselves are decidedly distracted, she gives them each a turn, tipping back and forth for their entertainment as they add weight and shift.

Ah, and then the questions... she loved children. So precocious, so brazen and lacking in tact. They were truly refreshing.

"Maybe! What makes someone a warrior, do you think?" she returns a question instead, smiling down at the young one who had asked. She was going to have to learn all their names. "Do they have to fight in a war? Or is it maybe something different?"

"Hmmm..." She thinks on that... what was the biggest thing she'd lifted. "I had to help my mentor move his anvil once. I'd say that weighs aboooout... fifty of you!" Del laughs, tossing them into the air a little bit to catch and set back down, for someone elses turn.

The last question is a bit of a surprise, and Del has to laugh. This one has an answer as well, but she knows better than to voice such a thing so easily, especially around children. So, she gives them her most officious look, a firm set to her face as if she was addressing something very serious indeed... though her eyes still sparkle with amusement.

"That's classified."

Her gaze lifts as she is approached by the second of Cyran's assistants. "Oh, I'm not bothered! They're a delight, honestly. Do you think so?" She looks around at the kids, alternating from clinging to her and playing excitedly among themselves. They did seem to be enjoying themselves at any rate. Her eyes lift up again, to the young man. "You're Rhi'as, yes?" Del smiles at him, and inclines her head. She does catch the essence of snark from Eleanor out of the corner of her eye, but finds herself more amused by it. "I quite like them, too. It's very nice to meet you, Cyran was mentioning the dinner you were preparing with praise, you know."

Just then, Cyran returns, holding a black tuft of. Oh! It was a creature! A large black moth the size of a cat, fluttering over to perch on Sammy's head. Her heart melts at the sight. Not only was the creature adorable, but so was how much it seemed to love the kids. It looked so soft, too...

Cyran's bow is returned with a smile. "It was my pleasure, truly. Oh!" Del laughs brightly as the children suddenly swarm her, encouraged by the idea of presents. "I don't know... Are you suuure?"

After a chorus of enthusiastic YES's, Del chuckles and starts to take the toys out of her bag, one by one. A puzzlebox for Alix, Tarquin and the other older kids; For the younger, a little crow on wheels for Sammy, a wooden horse complete with rider for Thomas, a ball-and-cup for Quillen, a wooden cat figurine for Cassidy, a frog with a working jaw for Lila, and for Zassi, a little hand puppet that could be danced by the strings that held it together.

"There you are! I hope you like them, and be sure to thank your headmaster too." She smiles at the group, and looks to Sammy with curious eyes... especially at the little moth perched on her head. "So, this is Blackberry Cheesecake, mm? Does she like pets from strangers?" Her voice is tentative as she asks-- she adored the little creatures, and this one looked especially cute, but she did not wish to overstep.

In only a few answers and kind smiles and warm embraces, Del had already won over the hearts of the children surrounding her like moths to a flame. They gasped in delight as she revealed how much she could lift. At least fifty kids was a lot of kids! That was way more than the orphanage. Excited whispers and gasps arose as the children muttered amongst themselves.

“Fifty kids has got to be as heavy as the whole house!” One exclaimed. “I bet you could lift the whole house if you tried!”

And that respect only grew when Del stared at all of them with a heaviness in her eyes as if she was sharing a grave secret, and admitted that it was classified information. Another wave of shock rippled through the kids.

“It’s classified… maybe she’s a super spy!”

“My da killed a man once!”

Their crazy theories and stories continued to grow in only the kind of absurdity that a child’s imagination could conjure as Del turned to converse with Oriole. The young man’s mouth hung open when Miss Del spoke to him so kindly, even remembering his name, and… excited to meet him. And Master Cyran had praised him? Admittedly it was over his cooking skills and not his thieving talents, but he flushed under the praise nonetheless, happy to know that Master Cyran at least spoke of him in a kind regard to strangers. It was difficult for him not to feel like he wasn’t doing enough to impress his teacher or show that he was worthy of working under the assassin.

“… I like the kids.” He admitted softly, low enough that Andromeda could not hear. She was scary mean when she wanted to be, and often made fun of him for being so soft. “Yes, I’m Rhi’as. It’s nice to meet you too. Master Cyran’s friends are… always nice.”

Oriole took a step back when Cyran returned with Blackberry Cheesecake, who wriggled out of Cyran’s arms and flew to Sammy with an indignant, soft buzzing noise. The young girl squealed with delight at the return of her beloved friend, petting her fuzz softly. She was only distracted from smothering the creature with love by the promise of gifts, hopping up and down with enough enthusiasm to make her curls bounce with the movement.

“Yes, please, yes!”

Gifts were rare around here. Cyran tried, but he knew that what he brought them was no substitute for the real, high quality toys and books that they deserved to be spoiled with. But Del brought light into their lives with the promise of the little wooden contraptions pulled from her bag, each one exciting and new. Cup and ball toys, animals, and even advanced puppets with working joints. Cyran was thoroughly impressed with their detail and construction - things that were lost to the children, but that didn’t matter to them. What was most important was that they were having fun and laughing, bursting at the seams to disperse and play with their new things. A few of them had even begun to wander off, delight sparkling in their eyes.

“Before you go, what do we say to Miss Del?” Cyran asked, raising his voice so they could all hear him.

“Thank you, Miss Del!” They chorused, added as an afterthought, before everyone ran off in different directions to play.

“And stay where we can see you!”

He wasn’t sure if they heard him, but it didn’t matter. The kids knew by now that headmaster Cyran had eyes like a hawk and always managed to find them in hide and seek, even when he pretended not to know their locations. He could find them if they decided to be rebellious and duck around corners.

Sammy stayed around, showing her new raven toy to Blackberry Cheesecake, when Del approached her, brimming with interest at the cat-sized animal that was waving its little, stubby legs at the toy. Sammy nodded.

“Yep! This is my best friend in the whole world! She’s super friendly!” She moved to scoop up the moth and held her out for Del to pet. Blackberry Cheesecake hummed happily at the attention, soft, black wings fluttering behind her. She reached out her legs in the air for Del to grab her.

“I think she likes you.” Cyran commented.

Sammy let Blackberry Cheesecake go for a few minutes for Del to hold in favor of going to play with her friends. Cyran had to hide a smile behind his hand at the sight of Del’s amazement at such a small creature.

“Her name was originally Umbra… but the kids usurped me and picked out a name they thought was more fun.” He explained. “She’s their therapy pet. There are some things they deal with that I’m not equipped to handle. Umbra helps with that.” Umbra wriggled, pleased with herself at the mention of her name.

The two spent some more time making small talk while Umbra cuddled up to Del. Eventually, a few hours had passed, and they’d spent enough time out in the mid-afternoon to the setting sun that it was safe to say there would be no more aftershocks anytime soon. The time had felt like it flew.

But eventually, the kids started getting cold, and began grouping up around Cyran and Del begging to go inside. Cyran leaned down and picked one of them up before turning to Del.

“Well.” He smiled. “I believe I promised you dinner.”

She can't help but laugh at the antics of the kids-- from the wild theories about how much she could lift to whether she was a 'super spy' of some kind (also, that child just said his dad killed a man once? He was an orphan, who was his dad? Was this from before?), they were each little balls of delight, running to and fro. They were each terribly endearing, adorable and sweet in their own ways, that childlike earnestness that had clearly been nurtured by Cyran and his assistants.

Rhi'as was a sweet soul as well; a little timid, but brimming with a desire to please, she could tell. He was such a stark contrast to Eleanor, it was like comparing gold to cold iron; one malleable and soft, the other unyielding and hard. The way she had seen the both of them snap to attention as Cyran entered the room, and that spoke to a level of respect and understanding of the Headmaster that belied what they might be learning. In either case, he truly did seem to be a natural leader. It was hard not to notice that, and the sharpness of his eyes when--

Ahem.

But that is not something Del focuses on. Too delighted by the kids who all said thank you in chorus, with speaking to Rhi'as who said Cyran's friends were 'nice' (he had other friends, did he? Wait, that made her his friend? That was a heartwarming realization), to watching Cyran be ever so parent-like to them (it was endearing) and now, to the moth known as Blackberry Cheesecake.

She is immediately smitten, petting the top of the creature's fuzzy, velvety thorax as Sammy offers pets to her The little legs especially cute, flailing at her. Glancing up at Cyran's comment, Del beams. "Ah, you think so? I like her too, she's just adorable. Such pretty wings you haaave!" She coos at the Blackberry Cheesecake-- Umbra. That was a lovely name, speaking to her in the way that the back of her mind seemed to notice. Del laughs, "Overruled, I see! Well, Lady Umbra must have many titles befitting her station, of course. Aliases are a very good thing to have," She informs the moth, very sagely.

That they needed the moth as a sort of comfort, a therapy pet as Cyran put it, brings a more gentle smile to her face. She looks down at the little moth and gives her a light stroke along her fuzzy antennae. "I think you've chosen just the right creature for that. You really have built something incredible here, the kids are just... thriving and well cared for."

She isn't sure where the time goes as they talk, whiling away the minutes, hours, as Del and Cyran simply... chat. About many things, the city, her work, his work, the orphanage, the kids, his assistants, the weather. It felt as though she could talk to him without ceasing, new topics flowing from one to the other effortlessly. Implicitly in step, it seemed, easily keeping pace and pivoting with the other. Such talks were rare for her, and it made her feel... good. Normal. It might be selfish, she thought to herself, but she wanted to hold on to that for as long as she could.

Even if it was only for a few hours more-- let me have this.

As the day grows late and the children come by to ask for warmth and the indoors, Del cannot help but melt, her desire to see them comfortable superceding any selfish wish she might have. She watches Cyran pick a little one up, standing, and smiles back at him. "One I should hold you to, I think." She gingerly allows Blackberry Cheesecake to flutter back to Sammy. She holds out hands for the kids to hold as they head inside for their meal and some warmth, the door gingerly closing behind them.

Of all the places she's been and gone in the past few decades... Del thinks she will like it here.