Welcome to Gaia! ::

Deacon noted the absence of Donald as he came inside, but he didn't give it voice - he was more than content that the one who cared about the project was there. Carefully setting the table down, he glanced over to her at the comment, uttering a short sound akin to a laugh. "I'll have you know, I'd make an excellent emperor." Righting himself, he put his hands on his hips and grinned. "Emperor Steele. It works."

Grabbing the blanket, he pulled it off and moved it over his shoulder in one smooth motion, revealing the table. It was as she asked - light wood, iron metal legs, clean and without a mote of sawdust or metal shavings on it, having a soft, subtle smell of the wood used rather than the treatment it received. "If I was doing the work I enjoyed, I'd probably still be in the Army." His words were sudden, but there was a sort of raw honesty in them. "Before I went in, I used to carve just for something to pass the time - my father wanted me to inherit the finance business he runs, but let me tell you, numbers are hardly ever actually fun, no matter what you do."

His blue eyes turned to her, thoughtful. "I wouldn't have even called carpentry a hobby, but when I carved the dragon prow for my rowing team as a joke, it was s**t, but they were so enthused, they wanted me to keep doing it until I made one that was properly balanced. It took a lot of time before I got there, but by the time I did, there was this -- rush." Deacon breathed in deeply, remembering the pride of the moment, the whooping of his team, the feeling he wanted to repeat. "I get it when I finish a piece that makes sense -- like this one. It's an end table, but it's smart, it works, and to see something come together like that? It's amazing."

He drew a gloved finger around the rim of the table before lifting it, moving towards the spot it was supposed to be put. "I tell you all that to say this -- you've really got an eye for design. Not just that, but materials, too - the bigger picture. That's really hard to come by." Putting the table down, he twisted it slightly to the side until the wood grain wasn't against the flow of the room, and then stood back so she could do as she pleased, looking at her again. "Hobby or not, if you ever want to get paid for that type of thing, you call me. I'll hook you up with work."

Without the awkward power struggle of Donald's fragile masculinity, Deacon found Vesp to be much more refreshing and easy to talk to. He smiled at her exclamations, but gently waved them off with a gloved hand, noting that he was still wearing them and taking the gloves off. "You made it, I just brought it to you. I'm glad it's what you wanted, all the same."

He made a soft sound of amusement, lifting one brow high. "Think of it this way, then - the money can be put towards your decorations, either for clientele or yourself. You can use it as credit towards me, if you wanted more custom pieces, but I really think this town could benefit from your eye." His expression softened into an easy smile, tucking the gloves in his back pocket before holding up his hands in a mock-defensive gesture.

"I'm not trying to force you into anything, but, if you were, say...bored, or just wanted to come with me on a job to see the people I cater to, my number is on the card I gave you yesterday."

Pulling the blanket off his shoulder, he started to twist it up to make it smaller, casting a smile to Ves as he did so. "You can always think of it as for yourself anyway. You said it's a hobby, so you enjoy it -- just think of it that way. You're doing it for yourself, and someone else gets to benefit from it." With the blanket twisted, he took the ends in both hands and tucked it around the back of his neck so it draped over his shoulders. "Isn't that the definition of happiness?"

Deacon didn't expect an answer, instead tilting his head back towards the door. "But if we're all good, I'll get out of your hair. Unfortunately, I've got beds that wont build themselves and restoration projects due for clients from hell." Her quirked a rare, toothy grin, clearly unfettered by the clients themselves - if the work was satisfying, the rest was bearable. "I wont wait by the phone, but...it's there, if you are so inclined."