Terra drove up to Danny's house/workshop. She wore workclothes, a pair of thrift store jeans and a t-shirt over a longsleeve. Knocking, she took a step back from the door.
Terra disguised as a male version of Terra
Kazakin
Terra drove up to Danny's house/workshop. She wore workclothes, a pair of thrift store jeans and a t-shirt over a longsleeve. Knocking, she took a step back from the door.
Kazakin
There was silence for a moment, then quiet footsteps and the sound of the lock being drawn back. Danny pulled the door open, and frowned for a moment, faintly bemused. With the crystal clarity of Autumn flowing through him, he wasn't thrown by the transformation, and managed to pick out the subtle indications of the gender of the person in front of him.
Well, that's... odd. Better not to comment.
"Hello, Terra. Please, come in. I'm sure you're eager to see the finished product."
Her hands jammed in her pockets to stop them wandering, Terra steps in. Her attention bounces around the room like a hyperactive child still. An empty backpack is slung off one shoulder for temporary transport, since she didn't know how Danny intended to present his work.
"I am so excited. I've not owned anything hedgespun before. It's an exciting idea."
Danny couldn't really raise an eyebrow at Terra's incessant movements, because he didn't have eyebrows. There wasn't a single hair anywhere on his body. He wondered if his perpetual, twitchy motions looked as strange to other people.
Most likely. Ah well. He could make sure that never happened again, now.
"Well, I'm glad you intend to take care of it," the Smith said, after a moment. He gestured to the cast iron table. "Please, take a seat, and I'll go and fetch the blade."
Terra sat and noticed it was hard to relax in iron. She looked around to see if all the furniture was made like this or if there was somewhere comfortable for Danny, like a couch or lounge chair. She wondered if that explained part of his persona.
"Ok, I'll be right here."
The furniture in the room is made of metal, all handcrafted and ergonomic.
Danny gave a very slight nod and stepped out of the room. He was gone for perhaps a minute, before he returned with a black presentation box. His deft, long-fingered hands slid the box across the cast iron tabletop. The Smith's black eyes rested on Terra's, completely unflinchingly.
"I hope you will find it to your liking," the Smith said calmly.
The Contents
While he was gone, Terra places three checks on the table and dons a left glove. When he set the piece on display, she took a moment to simply observe the artistry.
"The attention to detail reaffirms your talent. It reminds me of before...May I?"
Hyperactive movements have ceased, a grin of genuine happiness on her face. She indicated to pick up the sword.
Danny glanced over the checks, his expression thoughtful. One long-fingered hand tucked them into his pocket without comment, as Terra examined his work. He smiled wryly, the expression very unusual on his lipless mouth.
"It belongs to you," he said simply. "You can do as you please with it. I, certainly, cannot stop you."
It was one of the saddest things about his creations. It was necessary that they be used, therefore he had to give them up. It would be wrong not to allow them to be. But there was always the faint pain of knowledge that others might not care for his creations as passionately as he did.
OOC
Terra raised it out of the case. She thought about how he probably could stop her, but that was not worth their words. She glanced at Danny. How similar they could have been and how opposite they turned out. Escaping to embrace Fear vs. Desire, Creating art for the Product vs. Performance, Nervousness covered by Hesitance vs. Rambling. Even the flames in their mantles were similar and polar opposite. Understanding him was just out of reach.
"I do try to have more respect for you than that. If you've placed your maker's mark, it will always carry a bit of you. Do you name the swords you make, and may I activate it?"
OOC
Danny seemed neither hesitant nor uncomfortable as he sat down at the cast iron table. He steepled his long fingers, studying Terra over them with sharp, black eyes. There wasn't a single flinch. The Smith's candlelight mantle danced in the air around him, casting odd shadows about the room.
"I call it Chitinguard. You can name it as you see fit. As I said, it's yours now. Do as you please. And yes, you may activate it if you desire."
Danny's cane remained at his side, leaning on his leg.
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