Welcome to Gaia! ::

Christof swallowed, politely keeping his eyes on the typewriter.

He was very glad that Barth was not a gluttony demon.

The hunchback shrugged, glancing over to Barth with furrowed brows. Just because he didn't *have* to do it didn't mean he didn't *want* to do it. But they'd deal with that as it came. For now, his place was already looking better, and the fact he seemed to be getting the work area lined up made him even more excited. Lab Work by contract meant that lab work *would happen*. And that was always a plus.

The hunchback nodded, pulling the paper from the typewriter to find a pen, signing it slowly and carefully before offering it over to Barth, his stitched mouth twisting into a hopeful smile.

The hunchback had already begun to fold the document up to pop into his vest pocket for delivery to the office when Barth's comment grabbed his attention. Was there going to be a new project? He brightened up eagerly, eyes scanning for any sort of sign of new blue prints.

Christof's brows furrowed. He had started to get used to people giving him things, but usually it was for a certain reason. He couldn't wear his work clothes to a school dance, it was practical. He had requested that favor from Riley to complete the task she had assigned him. But he had never been handed anything gift wrapped before.

Well, that was a lie. The last time he had been handed what was, by all appearances, a present, had been his first shovel. This was a bit like that, he supposed. An Igor must be equipped for their Task. It just was... odd, seeing the scraps of paper that had been haphazardly taped together and bound in string. It certainly didn't look like Barth's work. He had his suspicions on who it might have been, though, he had seen those leaf-wrapped gifts Calder had gotten from home, and the hodge-podge nature of the wrapping reminded him of them.

He stared down at the thing in his hands for far longer than he needed to, as though waiting to be commanded to open it.

He sat first, brows furrowed and hands trembling as he slowly, reverently removed the wrapping. Why did it have to be wrapped? Couldn't Barth have just handed him whatever equipment this was? It seemed an uncharacteristic extra step that baffled him. Well, no matter, maybe it was a new set of gloves or-

The paper relieved crisp white fabric and black buttons and the Igor stared in horror at what appeared on his lap. It... couldn't... what... how... why would....

Christof's expression looked a bit like a look of horror was wrestling frantically with confusion and anxiety, and the tiny facet of 'Oh, well that makes sense' was left unheard on the edge of the fray.

He held the thing up, as though convinced it couldn't be... but... it was.

A labcoat.

Igors did not wear labcoats. They were supposed to be a bit covered in bloodstains, that was... part of the decor. Sometimes they wore leather aprons like a butcher might, but... but the Coat was something only Masters wore. Barth didn't even wear one, usually. He probably owned one, but was too lazy to bother usually. When they got building, he usually just imagined it on him.

But now there was one in his hands and he was expected to... to actually...

Face flushing he shook his head, compulsively standing to try to hand the large garment back to the Sloth, his hands trembling.

Christof gave a whine, once again thrusting the garment towards him as though shouting, TAKE IT BACK! Before Master Fell saw him!