Throttling Up, Pt 2
The Toymaker sat hunched over his workspace in his quiet little shop and tinkered with one of his many delicate toys. With a jeweler’s loupe in front of one eye, he gently aligned springs and sprockets in place with unwavering precision.
His hands, aged as they were, held onto his delicate tweezers and tools with unwavering steadiness. He slipped a thin brass gear in between two larger ones, and tapped it into place neatly.
And as he added more and more parts back in, his steadiness never wavered. As though he himself was like clockwork. He barely even stirred when his shop bell rang and three people walked through his door. Two sets of footsteps were familiar to him, but couldn’t place the third.
He didn’t even look up by the time they reached his corner of the shop.
“It’s been so long,” said the Toymaker. “I’d heard you were in lockup for a while. Sounds like you had a rough time there.”
“It was the worst, yeah,” said Eva. “I got stabbed so many times.”