The invisible ghost cat was going to take some getting used to. He raised his eyebrows in a bit of a "glad you approve" gesture, then relocated to the kitchen. He wasn't about to wake Saga up - if she was sleeping, she obviously had good reason to, and to deny her that would only delay her work in helping him.
So, he made himself busy, with as little noise as possible. It took some figuring, but he'd gotten the stove to cooperate and went about making himself a fresh cup of tea.
Alabaster had never had much time to be idle, and on those precious few occasions there was never anyone around to witness what a sight Alabaster Donohue preforming everyday tasks was. He worked with quick and easy efficiency, a dozen things happening at once. One set of arms busied themselves with the tea, another set was peeling an apple he'd found in the fridge, another set was leafing through Saga's notes, while Alabaster himself read them. They made very little, if any, sense to him, but he liked to be informed.
He'd rolled up his sleeves, cuffing them at his elbows, showing off Grandfather Clock's handiwork. The general idea had been that of some long forgotten inventor, the basics being mechanical arms operated by wires and levers attached to the fingers. The idea looked good on paper, but was hard to execute. Grandfather Clock had taken it the next step, allowing the arms to be wielded by the user's own mind. Alabaster had gone through years of training - and more jackets and shirts than he cared to admit - before he could use them with any sort of efficiency. His arms were more steel than flesh (more of the tiny limbs lay in wait on his upper arms, hidden beneath the fabric of his coat) and were peppered with bolts and rivets as easily as one would would find freckles.
After a while, he moved to the table and sat. While he used his own hands to sip his tea on occasion, the other sets still held the notes (which he was very intently reading) and his snack (which he would take a bite out of on occasion). An odd sight if there ever was one.
no subject
So, he made himself busy, with as little noise as possible. It took some figuring, but he'd gotten the stove to cooperate and went about making himself a fresh cup of tea.
Alabaster had never had much time to be idle, and on those precious few occasions there was never anyone around to witness what a sight Alabaster Donohue preforming everyday tasks was. He worked with quick and easy efficiency, a dozen things happening at once. One set of arms busied themselves with the tea, another set was peeling an apple he'd found in the fridge, another set was leafing through Saga's notes, while Alabaster himself read them. They made very little, if any, sense to him, but he liked to be informed.
He'd rolled up his sleeves, cuffing them at his elbows, showing off Grandfather Clock's handiwork. The general idea had been that of some long forgotten inventor, the basics being mechanical arms operated by wires and levers attached to the fingers. The idea looked good on paper, but was hard to execute. Grandfather Clock had taken it the next step, allowing the arms to be wielded by the user's own mind. Alabaster had gone through years of training - and more jackets and shirts than he cared to admit - before he could use them with any sort of efficiency. His arms were more steel than flesh (more of the tiny limbs lay in wait on his upper arms, hidden beneath the fabric of his coat) and were peppered with bolts and rivets as easily as one would would find freckles.
After a while, he moved to the table and sat. While he used his own hands to sip his tea on occasion, the other sets still held the notes (which he was very intently reading) and his snack (which he would take a bite out of on occasion). An odd sight if there ever was one.