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"Yes, I know, it's horrible stuff I make. But if I didn't cook it up this strong, I might get leftover chemicals in my supper. A bellyful of serum from internal burns doesn't sound all that appetizing to me." The soap Aire made was effective. No one could see it used and argue that. Bone, fat, ash, and probably some mint essence in there. Mixed, cooked, cut into brownish bricks with who knew what else. He was scrubbing his hands in brisk motions, having removed the thick leather gloves that protected them. No telling if anything had got through during the latest mixtures.

The lightning man didn't have his 'prentice mixing the relevant chemicals just yet. Far too early for that. She had to memorize the safety measures first, and those detailed a long list indeed. The chymist was under no illusions that his work was in any way safe for the careless, and neither did he have any desire to explain to her parents why their daughter came home without a good chunk of her left arm. "Bit surprised they haven't come by to see what I'm about yet. Have they not been told?"

For now, he'd been mixing up a compound from some of the new specimens a quick run through the desert had yielded. Seemed to be a runny jelly as yet, and increasingly viscous. Metallic salts, soap, and a couple extracted acids had produced something new. It was something that would need a bag. Zasha, meanwhile, had been watching, given copies of his notes and some of the equations on force from his journal to study when she wasn't having another safety measure demonstrated. With his hands scoured clean, he took a pull from the waterskin, offering it to the silver-haired girl. "Questions so far?"

A little of the tension in his shoulders slid away once the last of that vicious soap rinsed off. Probably along with a thin layer of skin."Smells better than it feels, I'll say that. Then again, it'd probably be a smoother product if I used better fats." Being a traveling artisan of sorts, most of Aire's capital was tied up in his stock and equipment. He'd no doubt that in leaner times, he'd have to eat his own stock of herbs, especially in this arid land. It was another thing to consider, if it turned out that he was taking a 'prentice along with him.

"Glad you've got the permission. There's been some complicated family stories plopped into my tent before, and I'd rather not have more hammers waved at my nose. With any luck, the burns you pick up here will be superficial. Won't pretend I haven't lost my eyebrows once or twice, but those were learning experiences, and never duplicated." ...Which, if she was listening, didn't mean he wouldn't lose his eyebrows again, but that it wouldn't happen the same way. Apparently her new teacher believed in front-loading the hazard notices.

"Yes. The alchemists back home call that a neutralization reaction. I suppose, to use your terms, it depends on what sort of angry they are. Explosions occur either when substances reject one another, or when introduced to the proper energies. As it stands, part of my work is figuring out why certain things explode and why others simply combust. The difference being how quickly a similar reaction occurs." He paused, blinked, and turned purple eyes back to Zasha. "...Er. I haven't provided context for some of those, so you might want to write the questions on that ramble down for later. Easier to answer everything if I have my notes, y'know." He took another waterskin, and very carefully poured this new substance from the polished stone bowl into it, and pulled the opening tight. From there, it was tied off with a bit of twine and laid aside.

Her teacher's thick braid bobbed behind him, nodding into her reassurance. "That's a comfort to know-" Full implications, however, had lagged behind the words. Aire pit down the other bowl, the one filled with a grey bubbling metal, and instead picked up the drinking skin to take a pull. It wasn't booze for reasons of safety. He'd never wanted to try drunk science. Water would do. "I take it back, that wasn't at all reassuring. With some of the concepts I toss around, it's probably fair, though."

It took about a minute for the foreign redhead to stop staring at his table. I really have come to a barbarous land, haven't I. One he came back from his own introspection, a sort of ringed clamp was set around the opening of the seond waterskin. Seemed almost bowl-like itself, somehow, only the interior was filled with clay. Once it was tightened and secured, he picked up the bowl of metal again, and tipped some into the hollow clamp. The metal flowed smooth from a notch in the bowl, settling into another ring. "You're right to look wary at this stuff. I was getting to sealing it. So far, lead seems to work best for this sort of thing. The clay is a handy intermediate layer. I'm losing no more clamps to that mistake, I can tell you.

While it cools, we can go over some of the protocols. What do we do with anything marked orange or with a fire sign on it? And how do we observe the reactions without taking sharp anything to the face?"

A nod, followed by a quick smile. New or not, it was good to work with people who listened! ...Meant less reattatvhments later. "Glass or stoneware, yes. Still thankful the hardening process worked out for glass." She said glasses, but in this case the closest they had to protective spectacles happened to be a Zena invention for preventing snow-blindness. Aire had taken one of the mountain-folk's visors and modified the design somewhat, having them extended over the face and forged of metal, padding them on the inside. "Failing that, as detailed a description of the scene before and after as possible.

Good! Distance and cover. You've got the important ideas down, we can inlay the details later if you're careful to do as I do for the moment. Apart from safety questions. Feel free to ask those whenever they seem relevant." Though the leaden ring still sat cooling, the chymist stood, began gathering up sticks and material. Essentials first, water, notebook, the stiff-felt warning signs. Safety gear, like the faceshields and soft He'd already had a local lad gather up as much clean sand into several burlap sacks earlier. From there, he began arranging a pack around the compounds that had been chosen for the day's tests. "You've been patient with me, an' I need to thank you for that. It's a clear day, the wind's blowing away from town, and I went and asked the chief to keep folk away from our site."

An eager, childish glee spead all over the crystal-freckled face. For all his very serious talk of safety and responsible application and blah, blah, blah... the foreign man's feeling towards explosives weren't that different from Zasha's. He was in it to make things go BOOM. And help people of course. Yes. After the booms. "D'ya wanna come with me an' blow stuff up?"

"Excellent! Just pop on the cart, we're almost loaded up."
Though it'd got to town, the wagon containing his shop was in no fit state for travel at the moment. The young chymist was currently sleeping in a fellow traveler's tent, rather than his own wagon. The colorfully named Crazy Hass'Al had insisted, as he'd been the one to save his guest, the slender foreigner was his responsibility. To that end, his host arranged a small cart from someone that owed a favor. Incidentally, he'd also sold Aire the sturdy quhal that pulled the rented cart, at suspiciously reasonable price.

Being short and what could charitably be described as slim, Zasha's teacher wasn't all that good at lisfting heavy objects. As such, he'd rigged a pack with several more straps than came standard. Once it was full of everything they needed, it lipped on and began to buckle, across chest and waist to better distribute the heft. It still made the redhead lean a bit when he stood up again. Still, he managed to trudge out the flap well enough and hitch his new friend to the cart. Goad in hand, he hopped up to the driver's seat and waited. "Whenever you're ready."

"Aye. I wouldn't have taken him from the herd, but my host is... uncannily persuasive. Think I've the date-scented air freshener back in the tent. Keeping bugs away." Whether she remembered or not, Zasha had been there for the payment. Rather than money, his coin had been the mixing of a balm and a special cement for quhar hooves. She'd still been studying his rules at the time. One or two quhar had cracked a hoof, and Hass'Al had insisted on entrusting one such healed beast to "My very good guest"'s care. Even if the logic presented was dreadfully shaky. The leather band at the end of his braid slapped wood as the cart began to trundle forward.

The jab bought half-feigned defensiveness, sharp chin lifting into the air. "I keep myself adequately fueled!" The slender scientist carefully avoided considering that he'd needed reminders to eat three times this week already. They always seemed to come when he was working. It wasn't as if he were in this job for the lush lifestyle. The huff passed as quickly as it came, drying out with the hot winds. Even left a dry little smile on his face as Aire glanced at his own wiry arms, and looked back to his significantly sturdier apprentice. "...But you've a point. Don't think I'm going to grow any mighty thews anytime soon. It might take me a bit to refit another pack for you, is all."

Contrary to their squat build, quhar crossed distances at a surprising pace. Desert terrain especially; they could all but chew through miles, so long as they were pointed the right way. So it took very little time overall to be abouut the right span away from town. No need to check the wind's direction, and it blew away from their current home. What more could a demolitionist ask? "Here's good enough. Let's get the sanebags down first."

Despite being relatively tiny for a man, the tanning chymist flatly refused to be useless, hopping down to join the girl. Zasha might have noticed that he didn't seem to realize that she was potentially cheap labor. His own master had, and made full use of him, at least in a storefront capacity. His new 'prentice was hauling the sandbags at near twice the rate he could, true, but he'd done this before and would need to again. Once the sacks were stacked(or piled really) to satisfaction, the next stage of setup came around: a shade. It was daytime, and they might well be out here a while. He secured a large canvas atop the pile by sandwiching it between bags above and below, then securing its ends to the sand with long pegs. With the fire earthling helping the whole process took barely more than a third of the time.

"Lovely! If you'll just fetch my notes, I'll get the first batch set up over yonder." He pointed to a patch of tumbled stone, something the desert had burped up today. Perfect for testing new compounds. Full skins, luckily, weighed far less than sand. In the distance, he set one down, crouching over it and fiddling with what might have been a fuse. This was the ticklish bit. You couldn't leave this to someone new. A couple notes scribbled on a roll of parchment, and he backed up, unrolling a spool of twisted string.

"Lighting! Take cover!"

With the fuse cut and lit, even the short man had the motivation to put some speed on. Clearly he'd had a lot of practice running from his own work. The boyish grin he wore couldn't be hidden as he slid the last few feet and scrambled behind their makeshift shelter, waiting for the boom...

The slender Belrean slid and scrambled behind cover just in time, the fuse burning more quickly than expected. Or else the bag catching a spark early. If they'd expected an earthshaking blast, they would be disappointed. What sounded was more big than loud, a soft WHUMP that went everywhere. Followed shortly by a heavy wind and wash of heat, notable even in the bright desert morning. Even behind the sandbags they could feel it. As quickly as it began it was over.

Aire peered around the side, checking for scorchmarks, splinters of fresh glass, subtle things like that. Or, for example, large sections of punctured sandbag from whatever shrapnel might spontaneously happen. Not much, as it turned out. Yes, the topmost bag was slightly ablaze, but shifting the one beside it smothered the little blaze. Normally, that would be cause for alarm. As it stood, Aire was staring out at the test site, talking very quickly under his breath. For the substance they'd set off had popped the bag, and nearly a solid meter around it was burning brightly, with no indication of stopping.

"...Alright. it wasn't a boom. But that turned out a little differently than I'd expected anyhow! Please take this down word for word, we need to observe initial impressions:" A series of clipped observations and arcane jargon fell from his mouth, a good deal of it mathematics and nonsense. Still that glee never quite left him, neither the set of his grin nor the delight in his voice. "...Current observation puts temperature reading around coalblack detonation temperatures for a space of three hundred
z cubic. Thank you, Zasha." When purple eyes tore from the flame, they danced with its light. "It's confirmed! Ha ha HAA! We've got a new substance entirely, an' it worked anyway!"