Grand Pursuit

The Nexus labs are kind of quieter than they used to be, but back on the old Nexus noticeboard there are still directions here with a weird little handwritten advertisement for a glassworks and alchemy supply. It also says to ask about specialty creations such as prosthetic organs. It's kind of a weird sign and also a little bit old but very pretty. It says to ask for Arlen Arkenstone. At the actual Laboratory complex entrance his name is on the map, and up the halls there is light and heat from where it is supposed to be even if the rooms around it are dusty now. The door is ajar.

Arlen has found a suitable room in the labs and he has found a lot of equipment but what he needs isn't all in the room. Some of it is in pieces or needing repair or to be pulled out from under other things and it is all just too much. The room he has decided on is huge and it has the biggest stuff in it already. It looks like it's more of a metal forge then a laboratory but he will need the furnaces for glass. After making a partial list and giving that to Aloysius he tries to start on getting set up.

He has to be very very careful. His hands are stronger then they look but they're also vulnerable in ways flesh isn't. If a normal person slips and whacks their arm on any of this equipment, they'll be bruised. He could crack, and bleed, or worse.

After a couple of hours of moving everything he safely can he sits down and just gives up for a minute. He has wrapped rags around his arms and the glass of his hands is still a little scratched. He aches. Arlen can't remember his hands ever aching like this, usually they barely feel at all. It worries him.

There is so much work ahead, and he can't even set up what he needs to do it.

Arlen has been around the Nexus, he's just quiet and mostly takes notes. He's also found quiet corners somewhere to stay and work and he once got three teapots from Alec that were imbued with life force but now he only has one. Hmm.
The man in the suit sits in a corner with his briefcase and a notebook, and a teapot nervously fidgeting on the end of a string tied to the handle. The man is writing in a notebook and studying people over his glasses. His hair is long and pulled back, and his skin is a golden tint that matches it, but there's still something about him that's reminiscent of Schreber. The man doesn't have any visible scars though, and he wears gloves.
The bench he's sitting on is long and a convenient resting spot for anyone who might wander over here.