Welcome to Gaia! ::

Hel was hoping for a positive response to her question, but she was honestly surprised by his answer. “What? Really?” She questioned in awe, her head snapping up from her work to stare at him. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the brightest move on Hel’s part, as she missed the metal stamp, and instead brought the hammer down on the thumb holding down the stencil.

A dark brow twitched, and her mouth pulled into a firm line. Okay, that wasn’t very bright…as to how much pain she was in, well, it looked like barely any, and she wasn’t about to divulge. Hopefully she was schooling her face well!

The reaper set the hammer down for a moment, took a deep breath, and sat up straighter on her stool. “That’s wonderful, Mot.” She breathed out after a moment, sincere about that. She was still in shock that he was eating it as much as he claimed, and insanely pleased at the same time. He thought it was delicious and she got him addicted to it! Success! “Uh…should I give you some more soon?” She questioned eagerly, shaking her hand out.

In good ol’ Hel fashion, she just laughed as she waved her hand, ignoring her red thumb, and the bruising that was happening underneath her nail. Oh, go figure she had to hit the thumb on the light skinned side. Great. The side where brushing and bruising shows up the easiest. “I’m fine, friend!” She chirped. “Thank you for the concern.”

She gave a shake of her head, picked up the mallet once more, and got back to work. “Pain is just weakness leaving the body.” The reaper joked, chuckling a bit brokenly as she kept on working on the detailing, more careful this time. “So…” She started, looking to get the topic away from that little mishap, “Would you like for me to send you off with more stew?”

“Oh…” Hel’s brows furrowed briefly. He said he’d come over when he needed more…that was good, right? Right! “…Alright then!” She smiled, and finished off stamping patterns into this holster. She looked it over before laying the pieces in front of Mot, for him to look over. “That one is going to be yours.” Hel informed, rather proud. She had made that metal stamp a while ago, and it resembled a chain pattern. She then pulled over the next set of leather pieces, readying a stamp with a music note pattern on it before she set to work imprinting the one for Roch.

“…Hey Mot?” Hel started, falling into a comfortable rhythm as she stamped the leather. “…How did you…learn to write…?” She had wanted to add ‘so well’ at the end of that, but that would imply that his writing was better than hers, and she didn’t want to say that out loud.

To say the least, Hel was feeling rather proud of herself as Mot grinned widely, rocked, and even giggled in his seat. The reaper couldn’t help but chuckle as well as she continued to stamp the design into Roch’s holster. “I told you I don’t do anything cheap, friend!” She reminded cheerfully.

“Yes, you know, hand writing?” Hel uttered, pausing this time in hammering as she glanced up at him. “Oh..I see…” Her mother and older sisters (specifically Freya), had sat down and taught her how to write as well…but obviously no where near the degree that Mot was taught. “Calligraphy?” The reaper echoed, looking intrigued. “…Is that why your writing has the curves and swirls?” She seemed to ask this in a bit of a dreamy awed tone.

In no time, the reaper finished stamping the patterns into Roch’s holster, and put the metal stamp away along with the mallet. On to the next stage! She took the pieces away from Mot for now, and instead put the pieces for Roch in front of him. Hel then placed the two pieces back to back, and threaded her large needle with the leather thread, and immediately set to work on sewing the edges together.

When asked about learning calligraphy, the reaper hesitated, and then gave a half shrug. “…Can’t say I am…I can write already…and there are other interests I am pursuing now…I think it’s uh…nice, that you do that, though…” Nice was an understatement. Hel was…in love…with Mot’s handwriting…not that she’d say that out loud right now.

Hel fell into a comfortable silence as well while she worked. Though silence for Hel meant no talking, but of course it wasn’t complete silence! The reaper hummed while she worked, sewing the edges of the holster rather quickly. It was probably better this way, lest she run a finger through on that needle from being distracted. In no time she was done with Roch’s holster, and then worked through on sewing Mot’s, and once that was finished, she set the needle and thread down happily.

“Alright!” She started, grinning after that was done. “Now…” Hel hummed thoughtfully as she slid off of her stool, picking up one of the belts and Roch’s holster. Here she looked towards the cowboil, and made a gesture for him to stand. “I need you to pose, so that I know where to attach this.”

Hel moved up to the cowboil once he stood and immediately started to invade his personal space. She reached around him with the belt, wrapping it around before buckling it. The reaper didn’t put it on tightly, just enough for it to stay on his slim hips, and then worked on seeing how and where the holster should go on, and marked it with a piece of chalk. “Oh, Mot! I tried out for the Brute Ball team and was accepted!” Hel grinned, very proud of herself. “We have a game coming up soon, will you attend?”

She took the belt off then, and repeated the process with the next one, but paused as she stared at the belt that would be Mot’s. “Hmmm…what side do you want your holster on, friend?”

Hel fiddled with the belt buckle as she waited for an answer, and stared up at Mot, giving a firm nod of her head. “Really!” She laughed then, and grinned widely. “Of course!” She was rather pleased by Mot’s knowledge of her skills as a warrior, and looked even more pleased when he said he’ll be there for the game. “Excellent, I’ll look for you in the stands!”

“What side indeed…” The reaper fiddled with the belt some more, her brows furrowing. Hmm…Mot was rather slim…maybe she should poke a few more holes into the belt so that he could tighten it? Yeah, that sounded like a good idea. “Oh…well I guess it doesn’t…! Do you have a preference though…?” Hel trailed off for a moment, before she seemed to recall something. “Oh! Mot, when is your birthday?” She had thought about this a while ago, but she kept forgetting to ask.