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Fixitt's Epiphany [P]; Private: Kalim
Topic Started: Wed May 16, 2012 2:55 am (815 Views)
Fixitt
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Fixitt sighed as he washed his hands, drying them off slowly before putting on white gloves. He looked over to the chubby middle aged man in the corner, trying not to look at the operation that was about to take place. Fixitt rolled his eyes as he walked over to the steel table, speaking to the man, "It's not that bad Rummsfield, he only lost his leg below the knee, his left eye, and most of his left arm... the man is lucky to be alive, though the healing magic and medicine will only keep him out cold for a short time. Now hand me the limbs and the components for the surgery." The man he was operating on was a dock worker, one of the larger boxes fell as they walked down an incline, crushing part of his left body.

He barked out orders to Rummsfield as he needed the parts and tools. Some of the tools he used were hammers, metal rods, and some things he didn't know the names for and made up new ones for them. He held out his hand, "The lightning kerjigger with the prongs." Rummsfield sighed as he took it out, handing him his 'kerjigger.' Fixitt put it to an exposed node on the arm, flipping a switch that caused a bolt of lightning to strike the limb, forcing the man on the table to jolt away, a short scream escaped his lips. He reached up with her metal hand to try and push Fixitt away... until he noticed it was a metal hand, he didn't remember ordering metal body parts. He was about to speak as Fixitt put up his hand to stop him, "I owed your boss a debt so I repaid it by saving your life, since I gave you two limbs and an eye you get two free check ups and a single eye modification if something goes wrong." The man thanked Fixitt and was lead out by Rummsfield.

Fixitt sighed as he switched out of some of his surgery clothes, throwing away the blood stained gloves, and switching out his long white shirt for a clean long sleeved white shirt. Though now without the gloves, it was obvious he had a metal hand, sticking out from the edge of the sleeves, he yawned as he walked out of the back room, into the front where they greeted customers. It was a shabby looking place, metal limbs on display, pictures of the process of getting new limbs, he even had a few books about proper care and maintenance, but few cared to read it. He looked around as he sat down in the only chair in the room, an old wooden chair with large cushions, he sighed as he leaned back and kicked his feet onto the counter. Fixitt looked up at the ceiling as he spoke aloud, "I'm so tired of these boring works... where's a challenge when you need one? Where is someone who wants to do something interesting to their body? Rummsfield are you sure you don't want a third metal hand on your stomach to hold the puke bag the next time we do a bone and organ replacement?"

Rummsfield coughed in annoyance as he looked at his employer, "No Dr. Fixitt... I am pretty sure I don't want an arm I do not need." With that Rummsfield set about cleaning the shop, bringing out old and worn wooden chairs, placing them against the wall for people to sit in, he looked to Fixitt, "You should do some work to sir, you said you would take care of setting up the shop, but when I came in nothing was done!" Rummsfield kept up a short lecture about properly taking care of the store... but that was what Fixitt paid him for, so instead of bothering to listen, Fixitt closed his eyes and fell asleep, dreaming of interesting grafts and interesting people... wishing something interesting would happen.
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Kalim
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Kal wrinkled his nose, trying to hold back a sneeze as he made his way through Striberg's streets. Even though he had spent little time there these past few years, he was still Istani, and the trek to the city through knee-deep snow and frozen passes had taken it's toll on his body, unaccostomed to the frigid weather. Inside the walls of the city, it was considerably warmer, but he still held his cloak tight around his body, fighting shivers. Why anyone would choose to live in such an environment, he didn't know. He would take the heat and sand of the desert over this any day. He looked longingly towards a nearby inn, which would certainly have a nice roaring fire in the common room, but he pressed on. He did have a reason for being in this abysmal place, after all, and the sooner he got it over with, the sooner he could leave. It was an insane idea, he knew, and one of the reasons why he was going where he was. No one else, he was told, would even attempt something so crazy.

He had to wonder if he himself was mad for considering it, but after he had seen in Menicho what metal, with a little bit of creativity, was capable of, he had begun gathering information about graft experts. They were uncommon, so it hadn't been easy, and the few he had been able to track down had turned him away at his request. He was determined to make it work, though. He wanted to push himself to the limits, to become as deadly as possible, and he would take drastic measures to achieve it. He halted in front of a shop. According to his directions, this was the place. Kal pushed through the doors, and his chill body was immediately relieved by the lack of a freezing wind.

The mercenary glanced around. The place wasn't all that fancy, though it was clear that this was the right shop from the pictures and metallic limbs around the room. A man was making his way about the shop, cleaning, and another man sat in a chair, sleeping. Kal looked them both over. Kal could see a hint of a metal hand in the blonde sleeping man's sleeve, making him believe at first that he was a customer, but the other, older occupant didn't fit any description he had been given of the owner of the place, which led him back to the blonde.

"Excuse me," he said, loudly enough to hopefully get his attention. "Are you Fixitt? Dr. Fixitt?" He crossed his arms, waiting for the man to make some kind of acknowledgement. "I have a job for you. I...I need wings." It sounded insane, even to him. "Metal wings that fly."
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Rummsfield saw the young man enter, he waited for him to ask for Fixitt's services before sighing, walking over to his employer, he grunted once before bringing his hand across Fixitt's face, a sound mimicking thunder was sent through out the house from the sharp blow. Fixitt jolted awake, panic in his eyes as a metal blade slid out from his metal right arm's wrist, once he had calmed down he sighed. He pushed his fingers against the pressure plate on his hand while his left hand set about sliding it back into his steel arm. Fixitt looked up the young man and was about to speak before Rummsfield interrupted him, "The man wants metal wings of all things... it would be terribly expensive and impossible, metal is to heavy you see boy. Dr. Fixitt will tell you the same."

Fixitt smiled, his eyes were gleaming, he rubbed his hands together and chuckled to himself, "Metal wings you say? Interesting! Rummsfield clear my schedule for today!"

Rummsfield sighed, "You don't have a schedule sir..."

"Perfect! We should get started on all of the beautiful research by purchasing components. Rummsfield I want you to bring out some of the books in the attic, any reports on flying machines we have, oh, and anything about falcons and hawks... the man seems like a falcon or hawk right? Well wait right here sir, I'll need you to come with me to look for some good components." He rushed back into the back room, switching out his clothes entirely, switching out the old worn pants for a pair of fine black trousers, he switched his shirt for a white long sleeved button up shirt, tossed a hat on his head, the hat itself was black with a white band and in that white band was a simple red feather. He walked back out of the room and opened the only closet in the place, taking out a pair of black shoes with a pair of black socks next to them, he slid them both on and tipped his hat to visitor, "Before we go, introductions, I am Dr. Kriegger Metall Fixitt, call me Fixitt or Dr. Fixitt. Now as for your wings... please describe to me what you want them to look like." Before he could choose materials he would need a design, then he could properly craft the majestic metal wings, oh the fun that awaited him back when he got home from his shopping.
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Kalim
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Kal was bemused by the man's sudden enthusiasm upon awakening, and the sellsword had to wonder whether he had been asleep at all as he rushed around. This was far from the response he had become used to when he mentioned wings. Instead of ridiculing him, the doctor actually seemed excited at the prospect of the challenge. He just hoped that this Fixitt knew what he was doing and that he wouldn't be treated like a guinea pig. He'd prefer to come out of this with his spine still functioning. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all, but he had commited himself to this. There was no turning back now, and he had a feeling that Dr. Fixitt wouldn't let him even if he wanted to. He was back in no time, changed into more professional clothing.

"I'm Kalim Firious." The question presented to him surprised him, and he paused for a moment, confused. What did he want the wings to look like? He hadn't considered that. "I...I'm not sure. It's not like I've ever done this before." He fell silent, thinking. "I suppose...practical. The wingspan needs to be as small as possible. I don't need them getting in my way in narrow places. And I suppose...detachable? Is that possible?" he hesitated again. "Lightweight, too. Nimble. I'm a mercenary," he explained. "I'll be going into combat wearing them. Does that help?" He shifted, a little uncomfortable with his uncertainty after witnessing how ecstatic the older blond was. He remembered what the assistant had mentioned about expenses and reached for a large pouch looped on his belt. He handed it over to the grafter, the sound of shifting coins inside reaching his ears.

"Get the best materials. Money isn't a problem." The spoils of all his recent hard work was stored in that pouch, and no matter how much coin was requested, he was certain that he could match it. His recent jobs had been more than generous with this pay.
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Fixitt nodded as he listened, making a mental list of what he wanted, from the lack of aesthetic looks that means he had free reign over what it would look like. When Kalim offered some gold Fixitt shook his head vigorously, "Oh no no no, you're giving me a challenge, something I haven't had in a while, I should be paying you for the idea Mr. Firious." He turned his head to Rummsfield, "No get on with researching the functions of wings, how they work, give me a short report about them so I can figure out how to incorporate them... also dig out some of the magical nodes, two Q-Fives, three A-Threes, and a single Z-One type." He had no idea what the individual node names were, so he took the same types and put them into different categories in order of size and type, Z was old but powerful, while A was new and efficient, the numbers were meant for sizes.

He turned back to Kalim and tipped his hat, "Lets go and get some parts, I know a good forge that has some odd metals in stock." He lead Kalim outside, and quickly walked to the streets, even in this odd district of town there were still smiths, carpenters, and just about any job you could find. He lead Kalim through the streets, greeting people as he walked, quite a few dock workers lived here, and some of them had metal limbs. One of the men had two metal legs, he bowed to Fixitt and simply said, "We all thank you for our second chances to live, just as always we'll make the drop tonight. One more thing Dr. Fixitt, Charles has been looking for ya, keep your arm steady."

He turned back to Kalim and smiled, "You're probably a bit confused about keeping my arm steady, watch this." He raised his hand and bent his wrist downward, pressing the fingers against the palm of his hand, a clicking sound was made as a blade extended from the top of his wrist. Fixitt smiled as he slowly let go of the pressure plate in his palm, letting Kalim take a good look at his blade. He slowly reapplied pressure to the pressure plate as he delicately grabbed the edges of the sword with his fingers, sliding it back into place. Fixitt nodded to Kalim as he began walking again, "Some people call me a genius, I don't understand why, putting a blade inside an arm is childs play... replacing my lungs with a rough leather material said to be dragon lungs was much harder, then again that was how I got kicked out of the academy. Turns out you can't use dragon lungs to breathe fire without ingesting several materials, they wanted them back really badly, so they made me do the operation on myself again to get them back, had to get my old lungs to." He still remembered the startled faces when they demanded them back and he successfully completed an operation that needed to people by himself, then again he had lost one of his lungs at some point, took him a week to find it and put it back in.
Edited by Fixitt, Tue May 22, 2012 9:19 pm.
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Kalim
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The mercenary was astonished when Fixitt refused the gold, but he didn't press the issue, returning the pouch to his belt. He may not have known much about the process of grafting, but he knew it was very expensive. It seemed that the doctor was willing to cover it himself if it meant trying something new. Again, he didn't know whether to be pleased or worried, if this was going to be the man's first attempt at wings. As Fixitt led him outside, he briefly ran a finger along the medallion around his neck. I knew the risks when I chose this. Anything to become stronger. It sounded so shallow when he thought of it like that, but he still remembered why he had left Istan behind. In his current state, he was more a danger to Yanri than a help. He had to become more deadly, more dangerous, to crush his enemies. Even if that transition meant becoming further away from his family.

His shivered and wrapped his cloak back around his shoulders as they left the shop. This particular area of the city was home to a plethora of laborer's shops; smithys and woodshops along with many other workplaces neatly lined the streets. He caught glimpses of metal arms and legs on a few of the men walking past them, and one even stopped to bow respectfully to the blond doctor. It helped relieve some of his doubts. To have performed all of these successful grafts, he had to possess a fair amount of experience and skill. Something the man said did make him wonder, though. Keep his arm steady?

Fixitt seemed to guess his thoughts, directing his gaze to his metal hand. Kalim watched with interest as he extended a blade from above the hand, showing it off for a second before sliding it back into concealment. "That's impressive," he commented. It would probably be useful, too. Idly, he wondered if the man's work all revolved around grafting. There were a few ideas he had been thinking about, weapon designs that no smith he knew would touch. But that was something to bring up later, once his work here was finished. The rest of Dr. Fixitt's story made him stop dead, though, staring at the man like the crazy person he very likely was. Whatever relief and trust had managed to build up was crushed.

"I like my lungs," he said, trying to make his tone as forceful as possible. "Don't touch them, please. Wings only." He swallowed and continued walking, trying to get the unpleasant image of the man digging out his own lungs out of his head. He felt slightly ill.

Gods. What am I getting myself into?
Edited by Kalim, Wed May 23, 2012 4:12 am.
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Fixitt shrugged as he heard Kalim say to leave his lungs alone, he turned his head though, "Really? I've had much better luck with drake lungs, I haven't had them in for long though, it doesn't accept the new host, still needs tinkering with some of the nodes and runes I used to force it to adapt with the body. Though fine if you don't want to breath fire I can just make the wings, after figuring out how to do that." The simple truth was he had never in his wildest dreams had he thought of metal limbs, it was so stupid that it was brilliant, something new and exciting to add to the world of prosthetic limbs.

He walked for a few minutes in silence before arriving at a small forge outside of a house, a large man with grey hair and a clean shaven face was working at it. He wore a blue shirt, black pants, black boots, and a simple splotchy black and white apron over his clothing. He was just preparing the flames when Fixitt walked up, he smiled and shook Fixitt's hand as he spoke, "Fixitt my boy, what brings you to my humble shop? Need more metal or are you here to finally marry my daughter as I've been asking." As if on cue a rather slim young woman walked out, holding a forging hammer, she wore a basic blue and brown tunic, her features was sharp and her expression cold, though when she saw Fixitt she gave a slight blush as she returned the hammer to her father and walked away, back into her home.

Fixitt smirked, "No, I will not marry your daughter Yurimahn, I am married to my job. I've come for metal, as always I'll give tell them about your store for publicity, after all, we both get our fair share of mercenaries wanting enhancements, one way or the other."

Yurimahn sighed as he pointed at the house corner, "Fine fine, don't take to much this time, spent a lot of money on some of the rare metals back in the shed, you have the key as always, just get in, grab what ya need, and reel in some more customers for our businesses."

Fixitt nodded as he made his way around the house, showing a small wooden shed with an old steel padlock on the side of a door. Fixitt searched his pockets and fished out a small silver key, inserting it into the padlock and unlocking it with a small twist. He pulled the door open and waved his arm out for Kalim to look into the small shed, the sides were lined with metals of all kind. Steel, iron, mithril, and even a few chunks of adamantine, but there were also jars of liquid metal that seemed to shimmer like mirrors. Fixitt stroked his chin as he spoke, "Grab two jars of the liquid metal... you can ask any questions or voice any doubts as we walk back to my shop, I can already see a plan forming in my mind." He would start walked as soon as he locked the door to the shed, he would rely on Kalim to carry the metal, it was almost time to make the wings.
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Kal gritted his teeth, shaking his head vehemetly. "No, no new lungs, no breathing fire!" Why was he even having this conversation? It took bizarre to an entirely different level. THe mercenary wondered whether the doctor still posessed even a slight level of sanity, or if inside his head was nothing but a raving madman. He decided he didn't want to find out. Wings were going far enough. He didn't want to be turned into some kind of monster.

Though, if that's what it takes... No, one step at a time. Getting ahead of himself would only overwhelm him with the impossible task he had to eventually face.

He followed Fixitt for several minutes through the laborer's district, eventually coming to a halt in front of a home with a miniature forge in front of it, where an elderly-looking man was hard at work. Kal approached the forge without bothering to ask permission, huddling around the budding flames while the man, whom he assumed was a friend of the doctor, exchanged words with him. His breath misted in front of him in staggered gasps as he shivered. He glanced over in curiousity when the man mentioned his daughter, and gave a slight smirk of amusement at the girl's expression when she saw the man. Apparently, being a prosthetics surgeon gave one prospects. Who would've thought?

His brief entertainment didn't last long, though, as he was forced to leave the relieving heat of the forge to follow Fixitt around to the back of the house, where a small shed waited where the smith kept his materials. The man produced a key that unlocked it and motioned for him to inspect the cramped room. A wide variety of metal, organized by type, lined the walls. He recognized a few from their usefulness in weapon-making, but just as many were a mystery to him. He glanced back towards the doctor who had waited at the shed's entrance, an eyebrow raised questioningly. When Fixitt directed him to pick up two jars, he turned around and walked to what he assumed the man meant. The substance inside seemed to be a sort of curious, shimmering semi-solid. He tucked one under each arm. "You mean this?" he asked as he exited the shed and waited for the other man to lock the shed again.

The two began their walk back towards Fixitt's shop, and now that they were so close the actual surgery, the mercenary realized how little he knew about the entire process. He was relieved when the blond doctor offered him the change to ask questions, and he nodded.

"What is this stuff?" he asked, indicating one of the jars containing the curious half-solid half-liquid mixture. It didn't look like any kind of metal he'd ever seen. "What's the process for attaching the wings? Is it...safe?" He didn't ask the most common question, about whether or not it would hurt. He wasn't a child, and he didn't want to appear like a coward in front of the man, who had obviously undergone a similar surgery himself.
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Fixitt listened to Kal's questions and started his answers, "The metal is called quicksilver, it's light, metal, and I can use the nodes to help shape it into a wing, makes it the best choice for a first time attachment, not as strong as steel, but still strong enough to stop most attacks." He had to think about the man's next question, if the operation was safe or not and what it would entail, he sighed before starting, "To tell the truth I've never done this sort of operation before, I was called a genius when I was younger, but I tribute that to everyone else being boring, but I at least have a rough idea of how to start it out. Usually you insert magic nodes inside or on prosthetic limbs, but for your wings, I'm going to embed the nodes into your back, which means a very, very painful operation."

He let that sink in before continuing on, "The nodes will roughly be three inches, one on each shoulder blade and then one on top of your spine that will interact with the nodes and your brain, giving you control of the wings. Next I'll use another set of nodes to magnetize the quicksilver and force it into a paper thin magical membrane, it should harden just before being hit to protect the intricate runes and inner workings of the wings. I can promise the operation will not be fatal, but there is the danger of it back firing and frying your spine, causing temporary paralysis at best. Any other questions? Once we make it to my home we'll have to start preparation and getting you drugged so you can sleep easily during the operation." At worst the man would be a living vegetable, but he found it best to keep that sort of thing to himself, not many people would come to him if they knew most of the real dangers of his occupation, he dealt with life and death more then most healers.
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Kalim
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Kal nodded at the doctor's answers. At least the man was being serious and honest about it. He appreciated that in a person, no hiding of unpleasant truths to make his decision easier. He had been prepared for risks from the start, and the promise of pain only made him flinch a little. He would try to take this as stoiccally as possible, like an Istani should. What would his brothers say if they thought he had cowered from a little stinging and aching? Even Yanri would lose respect for him from it, even if she'd be more understanding. The paralysis gave him pause though. It was one of his worst fears, to be bound in one place like that, and being imprisoned in his own body would be a nightmare. He took a breath, but continued walking alongside Fixitt. He had to get over his fears. The nightmare that the assassin's attack a few weeks had evoked still haunted him, the shadowy figure of his dreams mocking him with his own face. If he let it control him now, it would be giving up. He was a fighter, and he would never give up.

"Alright. I'll do this." The man couldn't know what was running through his head, and the confirmation was more for him, and he spoke it with finality. There truly was no turning back now.

He remembered the way back to the shop, and their walk ended quickly. He stepped back into the front reception room and waited for Dr. Fixitt to come in. The mercenary offered him the jars of quicksilver. "Lead the way and just tell me what you need me to do. I'm ready to get this over with." His hand clutched the amulet around his neck tightly. He needed whatever reassurance and confidence the gift could give.
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Fixitt smiled as he saw Kalim mentally prepared himself, he lead him to his home and let Rummsfield take the jars from Kalim's hands. Rummsfield spoke to Kalim as Fixitt started reading some of the materials Rummsfield had found, "Come with me to the operating room, take off your shirt and lay on the table so we can see your back, I'll be giving you the medicine to help numb the pain and I'll be rubbing some onto your back so you won't feel it when he makes the incision." Rummsfield lead Kalim to the back room, revealing a single large steel table and several smaller ones around it. The large table was clean and large enough for the average man, while the smaller tables had an array of equipment, small yellow discs of metal with arcane runes written along the sides, blades of varying sizes and shapes, and finally the last table had the two jars of quicksilver.

Rummsfield quickly went to the far side of the room, which had two large shelves of equipment, on one side were numerous plants and tonics with odd labels, on the other side were lines upon rows of nodes and metal limbs with different labels. Rummsfield grabbed two tonics and gave the bottle with a purple liquid to Kalim, he nodded once as he spoke, "That will help lessen the pain, I'll rub this next vial into your back." Rummsfield waited for Kalim to comply, Fixitt would be done with his reading soon.

Fixitt looked at the wings and basic functions, his mind working through the magical equations he would need to do as he worked, all of the possibilities of the wings would be needed. He nodded once before closing the book, he would make the man a pair of metal hawk wings. He walked over to the closet and disappeared inside of it, coming back out a few moments later wearing a long baggy white shirt, worn brown pants, and a pair of white gloves.

Once he went into the back he began the operation, his mind creating the formula needed for the wings to move, he started to carve symbols into the nodes with a knife, which were immediately absorbed into the metal, he did this over and over again until he felt it had absorbed all of the knowledge he had on the subject. He quickly made two deep slits in the man's back and a third shallow one. He inserted the nodes and quickly went to work of activating them, sending short spurts of mana into it, he knew the nodes would flare to life and burn as they readjusted themselves in the man's back, but hopefully it would only be mild burning.

Next he brought the quicksilver to the table and opened the tops, he quickly set about inscribing more nodes with the equations for magnetism, and bone structure. He poured his mana into the nodes again, activating them, the quick silver and nodes started to slowly hover over Kalim's back, slowly crafting the metal bones needed for the wings, most of the nodes were part of the bones, he knew if that got damaged the wings might completely stop working, or worse, lose their thin barrier keeping them together and dissolve.

Finally he used the last nodes to create the actual wings, which was a much simpler matter, he made them appear as normal wings, but at a closer look, every feather would look like a dagger or another kind of straight blade, but from afar people would look at the size and shape and just guess they were normal looking wings. Once he was done inscribing his design and the wing's functions he let the nodes activate again, using his own mana to start them. The nodes floated to where the joints in the wings would be, letting the quicksilver cover the metal quicksilver bones, becoming the blade wings he had thought of. Though now was the moment of truth, all of the nodes were acting independently and were not connected to the brain, this was the last step.

He put his hand on the node in his spine, speaking a single word, "Connect." With a surge of energy the node came to life, connecting everything together, and finally sending the energy through the spine. He knew this would be the most painful part, and slipped a piece of leather into his mouth and said, "You might want to bite down on this." Rummsfield grabbed Kalim's legs and Fixitt steadied his arms, if Kalim was about to thrash about it would be now.
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Kal nodded, keeping his face as blank as possible. He had nothing to prove to these people, but he ws trying to make a point to himself, that he wasn't as weak as his subconcious seemed to believe he was. He followed Rummsfield to the operating room, looking around. It was a plain, simple room with all the tools the grafter could need, and a single long table that he knew without being told was where he was going to lay. He glanced warily at the various blades in sight. How ironic, that he spent his life dodging sharpened steel, and now he was volunteering to have someone cut him open. He had endured surgery before, of course, when healing magic wasn't available. Just a few weeks ago he had to have two arrows dug out of him. But it was different when it was a matter of life or death.

He followed the assistant's instructions, sweeping off his cloak and bundling it up before tossing it into a corner, well out of the way, and his shirt quickly joined it. His body was testament to his lifestyle. Scars lined his body, most months or years old, though a few were recent. There was still a trace of bruising on his arm and torso where the arrows had struck. If anything, it was those scars that told him he could manage whatever pain the operation involved. That didn't mean he would foolishly welcome it either, and he drank it gratefully and allowed Rummsfield to apply the other tonic to his back. Afterwards, he walked to the table and lay down on it, flat on his chest. Dr. Fixitt soon returned, in his work clothes. Kal watched him out of the side of his vision. In spite of the circumstances, he was curious as to how the wings would function. The mechanisms involved in machinery, magical or otherwise, fascinated him. He had first become intrigued in it when customizing his gauntlets, but had since realized what incredible things it was capable of.

He jerked his gaze away when the doctor walked towards him, though. He didn't want to watch the man slicing his back open, and it would most likely help make the operation smoother if he concentrated on something else. Fortunately, the medicine he had been provided, along with that administered on his back, seemed to be working. He felt only a slight twinge as the incisions were made, though he still had to fight the urge to jerk away from the cutting blade. His back began to itch when the the nodes were inserted, however, and he groaned as the feeling turned into a burning sensation, as if his entire back were enflamed by a fierce rash. It lasted for about a minute while Fixitt began work on the next set of materials. When he returned, there was a long period where nothing seemed to be happening. Kal fought his anxiety and urge to look. At least nothing seemed to be hurting, and he began to wonder if the painful operation the man had promised had been exaggeration. He started to let his guard down. That was when he heard the doctor utter the word "Connect". Fixitt quickly slipped a piece of strong leather into the mercenary's mouth, and he realized that the man and his assistant were restraining him.

What is it?

His eyes widened. For a second, he shook his head, trying to fend off the feeling that was assaulting his brain like a battering ram slamming into castle gates, but it broke through in a flood of agony. "Grhhhhh!" he screamed as he chomped down hard on the leather, his teeth digging so deep into it that he thought he might bite completely through it. It felt like a bolt of lightning had struck his back. He broke out in sweat as he jerked violently, his body trying trying to curl into a ball but held back by the two men. The muscles in his arms and legs bulged as his limbs involuntarily fought them. His entire nervous system seemed to be under attack. He didn't know if the pain induced tears or not - if it did, then they were mixed in with a torrent of sweat. Though it was worst in the first twenty seconds, it lasted longer, and when it finally subsided, his entire body went limp. The leather dropped out of his mouth as he swallowed deep gasps of air. He was still trembling, and his head felt like it had been struck by a warhammer.

Amidst the lingering pain, he realized a bizarre sensation, one that hadn't been there before. Tentatively, he traced it in his mind's hazy awareness and poked at it. Something twitched. It was the strangest feeling, this peculiar extension to his body, a foreign construction that didn't belong there.

"Is it over?" he asked Fixitt. His voice was still breathless.
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Fixitt
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Fixitt and Rummsfield held down Kalim as best as they could, trying to keep him from hurting himself or them. After thirty seconds the movements slowed to a halt, he was no longer thrashing around like a mad man, and a single question escaped his lips, 'Is it over?' Fixitt nodded as he walked to his side, prodding the wings with his metal fingers, the wings moved with his fingers as the quicksilver hardened to let Fixitt push against it. He nodded with satisfaction as he stepped back to admire his work, "Magnificent, the nodes are working, the wings moving as a hawk's does, this is my greatest work yet, now I'll have a new project to advertise, Quicksilver Wings! It'll be all the rage with the richer class and I'll finally make more money to fund my side projects."

He was making mental plans as Rummsfield took out a green vial from one of the shelves and offered it to Kalim, "This stuff tastes down right bitter, but it'll help knock the dullness from your mind and body. Should get you back on your feet at the very least." After that Rummsfield went off, taking the bloodied equipment from before out a back door, he needed to clean them before Fixitt carelessly used them in some other surgery.

Fixitt smiled as he stared at the wings, issuing instructions to Kalim, "You'll need to practice flapping your wings for a week or so before you should fly, remember to keep them clean, especially the nodes on the joints of your wings. If anything is damaged come on by, I'll repair them for free, but only once, that's a store policy that Rummsfield enforces like no other, or else I would be doing it for free all the time. Now I would also suggest a day of rest, to learn how to sleep on your stomach if you don't already know how to do so. Any more questions before you leave for the day?" This was only asked as a formality, few people had questions about the technical points of his craft, but sometimes they did ask questions about interesting grafts, after all, he could always use another side project.
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Kalim
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Kalim carefully sat up when Fixitt nodded. He reached a hand up to wipe sweat off his face, and took the potion that Rummsfield offered, uncorking it and drinking the liquid. He barely even noticed the foul taste, but it's effects were nearly instant, the fatique in his body fading. It still felt like he had run a marathon, but at least he wasn't about to collapse. The mercenary glanced over his shoulder as Fixitt rambled to himself. He stared at the objects attached to his back, the sight incredibly bizzare. He really did have wings. He poked at them again in his mind, and saw them move slightly.

"This is...," he shook his head, uncertain what to say. It was frightening and amazing at the same time. He listened closely to the doctor's instructions and nodded. So, he'd have to wait a week before trying them out. "Will I really be able to fly?" The concept was so strange. That was what he came here for, but now that it was a very real possibly, it was too much for him to comprehend. It would take time for him to wrap his head around it. He applied a bit more force to the wings, and they flapped briefly. He let out a laugh and got up from the table. "How do they work?" If the things were going to practically be part of his body, he wanted to know what made them tick. He took a step, judging the effect of the wings on his body. They were light, but it would still take getting used to. He'd need to practice if he wanted to stay effective in combat.
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Fixitt
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Fixitt barely listened to Kalim, he was far more interested in the movements of the wings, they were a bit unrefined, but Kalim would get used to them in time. When Kalim asked if he could really fly and how they worked... Fixitt simply shrugged, "Flying, probably, how they work, I have a book about birds you'll have to read up on to get a good idea on how the wings work for flight. Though I can tell you what parts don't work like a bird's wings, and that would be the nodes, they should give off a strong magical pulse that will keep you from falling like a stone while the wings are open. This will simply make it so that your wings will be treated as a bird's would, meaning they will be effected by strong thermals and strong winds, but thanks to the length and weight, it would need to be one strong wind to take you off course." He walked out of the room back into the room they had originally come from as he spoke the next part, "You should try to stand, or even walk, the wings will effect most of your movements." The weight would change movements, both in his legs and arms, the weight would make walking awkward and his arm movements might seem a bit sluggish, it was best to move around and try to get used to it.

Once Fixitt was in the front room he immediately set about looking through the books, finding the proper one to give to Kalim, something not to text heavy that had plenty of diagrams. He found it after a few minutes of searching, it was a good book, thick leather cover, over two hundred pages about birds and flight, and then it had plenty of diagrams to explain the wing movements, this was exactly what Kalim needed. Fixitt turned around and tossed the book to Kalim, pointed towards the door as he did so, "Now go to the nearest inn and rest for the day, tomorrow you walk for at least one hour, but feel free to do it multiple times if you still haven't gotten used to the weight." While the material was light for metal... it was still made of metal, it had a decent amount of weight to it, if the man needed to get into a fight he would need to adjust to the weight.
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