Cinder Collection Failure, poor leather cord
As he pulled out the bracelets, Lin shifted to sit next to him on the couch, her body against his side a warm line. An unfamiliar cosiness, Dalton realised absently, rather more contained in his touching than she was. She was positively tactile in comparison, but the sorcerer found he didn't mind at all. Welcomed it, even, as he turned his head to smile at her reaction to the bracelets.
“If all goes well, they won't be visible under my shirt sleeves,” he pointed out as he placed the bracelets on the coffee table, the smooth gold catching the light. Style had very little to do with it, but Dalton couldn't deny that he had his habits in what manner of objects he chose to enchant. Ideally, they'd sit flush to his skin, firmly seated and further up his wrist than a watch strap, a hidden weapon he could use when the worst happened. He'd had a few close calls in his years of practising magic and had even made similar enchantments for himself. The enchantments had worn out long ago, and he had recently been reminded of their necessity in a world where he wasn't protected by ignorance.
He reached into the briefcase, rummaging around and pulling out a leather cord. Magic sparked at his fingertips, but as he brought the cord out, he noticed it was stiff and cracking, clearly not the quality of work he liked using for his enchantments, at least when he wasn't creating something designed to blow up in the user's face, which he'd never done anyway.
“Hm,” he let out, unhappy with what he'd found, and set it aside on the end table next to the couch. Better not keep it amongst his kit if it wasn't good enough to work with.
As he pulled out the bracelets, Lin shifted to sit next to him on the couch, her body against his side a warm line. An unfamiliar cosiness, Dalton realised absently, rather more contained in his touching than she was. She was positively tactile in comparison, but the sorcerer found he didn't mind at all. Welcomed it, even, as he turned his head to smile at her reaction to the bracelets.
“If all goes well, they won't be visible under my shirt sleeves,” he pointed out as he placed the bracelets on the coffee table, the smooth gold catching the light. Style had very little to do with it, but Dalton couldn't deny that he had his habits in what manner of objects he chose to enchant. Ideally, they'd sit flush to his skin, firmly seated and further up his wrist than a watch strap, a hidden weapon he could use when the worst happened. He'd had a few close calls in his years of practising magic and had even made similar enchantments for himself. The enchantments had worn out long ago, and he had recently been reminded of their necessity in a world where he wasn't protected by ignorance.
He reached into the briefcase, rummaging around and pulling out a leather cord. Magic sparked at his fingertips, but as he brought the cord out, he noticed it was stiff and cracking, clearly not the quality of work he liked using for his enchantments, at least when he wasn't creating something designed to blow up in the user's face, which he'd never done anyway.
“Hm,” he let out, unhappy with what he'd found, and set it aside on the end table next to the couch. Better not keep it amongst his kit if it wasn't good enough to work with.