Welcome to Gaia! ::

"Not very often?" Roch said. "I ain't that bad at forgettin' lyrics, actually... but I think I get what you're talkin' about," he said. "What happened?" He started tuning Desiree as he waited for her to reply, more out of habit than anything else.

"If y'need help usin' the grinding wheel, I can show you how," Roch said. "I had t'teach my lil sister just the other day. An' we might have a smithery, but we ain't got a blacksmith, so it's all self operated. But me, I learned how when I was eight."

Something about Roch said that he'd learn to do a LOT when he was eight. "If y'don't mind me puttin' away my stuff first, that is."

He grabbed his bag, laughing blatantly at her. "This is gonna take some time," he drawled. "So how long y'been in school?" he asked as he led to his room. The room was a bit bare, with only a papasan bed in the middle, a TV in front of it, a table next to the little kitchen, and some pictures on the walls. There were only two minipets to be seen, a little will o' the wisp asleep on the pillow on the couch, and a solar flare lounging in the middle of it. It seemed extremely empty for a guy that was a third year.

He stopped at the kitchen counter, unloading his bag. There were various gifts that were clearly for a female, including a little bag of candles and a box of candy. "Sorry, was gettin' ready for Scarentines," he said, setting up the gifts--apparently his ghoulfriend liked blacks, blues and purples. He put away the food, then turned to her.

"C'mon, let's go learn y'something!"

"That new, huh? It'll be... interesting," he said as he led her out of the room and out of the dorm. He turned and headed to the side of the building, stopping in front of a rather ramshackle building. "This is the smithery--for reapers that got weapons. A sharp weapon means a sharp mind--least that's what my gramps told me. I figure it's more a sharp weapon means y'can cut more stuff with it--plus my guitar is impossible t'tune properly when it's dull."

He stepped into the building, flipped on the lights and headed for a large grindstone in the middle. "This here's a grindstone. Y'pump this pedal here t'get it going at a decent speed, but first y'should oil the stone," he said, grabbing a bottle of oil off of a shelf and oiling the stone. "C'mere, I'll talk y'through it," he said, motioning her over.