Welcome to Gaia! ::

Shakiiro had little enough to do, with Ealasaid managing the shop. And though he liked wandering through the windchimes, and helping out where he could, today was too bright and beautiful to be kept inside. So he'd gone on a walk, almost hoping to get lost. It wasn't that he wanted the misery attached to being lost. It was just... he always FELT so lost, wandering through Gaia anyway. Perhaps if he got lost in the traditional sense, he could find some way to explain it to Ealasaid. As it was, the words eluded him, leaving him confused and helpless when confronted with her no-nonsense attitude. So instead, he walked, wandering over fields and hills in a half-daze. Only when he looked up, noticing the oddly-shaped machine in front of him, did he realize that he'd done just what he wanted - gotten completely, totally, and 100% lost.

He circled round the machine, then reached out to touch it, his fingers sliding lightly over the surface. Fascinating, really. A book of paper, and there was an obvious place to feed it in. What might come out, he wondered, if he were to write something on that paper and slip it within?

Too curious for his own good, Shakiiro located some berries that, when crushed, bled red, and a twig. A few of the berries on a leaf provided the ink, and the twig did well as a quill, when dipped in the liquid. It took some doing to make the word readable, but when Shakiiro slid the paper inside, the ink dried into a purple-red that he found rather appealing, the word 'music' could be made out clearly, adorned by musical notes.



A... can. Shakiiro peered at it for a few moments, nose wrinkled. It looked dirty, and the flies buzzing around didn't precisely help his opinion. Eventually, reluctant to pick it u with his own hands, he closed his eyes and cast a spell. Invisible hands lifted the can, bringing it to within a foot of him before he nodded, holding it before him as he moved down the hill. Perhaps, if he trusted his instincts, he would find his way home as he'd found his way here.

When he'd approached Trio about the can, she'd had a rather ingenious suggestion - one that he wasn't entirely convinced she meant in earnest. But he took it that way, because the alternative was to assume she was mocking not only his predicament, but everything about him - indeed, everything about him, Ealasaid, and the rest of their people. So rather than believing that, he chose to take the advice, as well as the four other cans she'd offered. They, at least, were cleaned. He'd made certain of that before bringing them home. And once in the Garden shop, he rooted around for the fishing wire they used, and a small metal disk for the center. A larger metal circle would be the frame. Some twine, and a ring to hang it from, and he was headed upstairs, listening to the music of the chimes as he plotted to at least make the can that machine had given him into something decent.

He sat at a small wooden desk, equipment laid out in front of him. It didn't take much to puncture the top of the cans and use the fishing wire on them, so that they were all ready to be hung. And the twine was wound around the ring and the metal frame, before that was hung up in front of him on a special hook. The metal disk settled horizontally at the center, and then it was simply a matter of hanging the cans around it. The initial test was not... pleasant. When holding the can, tapping the disk to it produced a flat sort of sound, dull and uninspiring. So he sat back, creating a small breeze just strong enough to move the metal disk. Without hands touching them, the cans sounded almost nice - not nearly as musical as the silver tones found in the room below, but not altogether painful, either.

"At least this way, you might live up to your 'name'," Shakiiro told the crumpled can dryly, taking the home-crafted windchime from it's hook and moving it to hang outside the window. It was something, at least.