video; un: deathweaver

[respired]

[ Koltira's coming to you live from the latest addition to Oska: a blacksmith's forge, newly constructed on the castle grounds. He's standing over the anvil, hammer in hand, his implacable expression as unreadable as ever. His saronite breastplate is on the anvil, repaired back to its dark and ominously gleaming glory. The hearth behind him blazes with hungry fire, and the stone walls--already black with soot--are hung with various tools for cutting, shaping, and otherwise manipulating metal.

He lifts the hammer--a tremendous, black thing that looks like it could easily smash someone's head in--such that its oak handle rests against his bare shoulder. He's wearing only a pair of rough black trousers, slung loose on his hips; his pale hair is tied back into a ponytail. The glowing blue tattoos across his chest and forearms cast shadows in the dim forge light, evoking the silhouettes of blades over the cream-colored bricks.

Friendly and innocuous, as usual. ]

I asked Lloyd for a forge, and my petition was granted.

[ He taps the breastplate with his free hand. ]

I needed to repair my armor after answering Achilles's challenge.

[ Koltira speaks tonelessly, as though referring to ancient history, though the fight weighs on him still. He pauses for just a second, his long ears twitching, and then he moves on. ]

I have materials enough for other repairs, should you require them. If you'd like a weapon crafted, I can accommodate a few requests on that score as well.

[ He bows his head slightly. ]

You need only ask.

Comments

[competing]

[ he quirks a brow. ]

No? Then what for?

[ he'll get to his actual request later... ]

[respired]

Having work, having tasks ... it helps me.

[ He rubs the side of his face. ]

Keeps my thoughts focused.

[competing]

[ he nods after a moment of contemplation. ]

Fair enough. [ however— ] But you're still offering, and you don't need to. So that's still pretty nice.

[ accept ur fate, koltira. ]

How do you feel about making... smaller stuff? Belore could probably use a nice collar, don't you think?

[respired]

[ His lips thin, but he won't argue the point. To his mind, he's offering because it's useful, and he wants to be useful--as well as occupied. ]

Hmm. Yes. Something thin, so it's comfortable for her ... I could do it.

[competing]

Nice! [ oooh belore is gonna look so swag, gonna look like her real daddy ]

Want anything in return? I could knit you some ear cozies.

[respired]

I don't need payment. I --

[ Wait ]

Ear cozies?

[ What ]

[competing]

You know.

[ no he doesn't ]

Ear cozies.

[ saying it again isn't going to make it any clearer ]

For when your ears are cold!

[respired]

[ His ears twitch. ]

My ears are always cold.

[competing]

Dude you should've told me it was dire. [ TO THE KNITTING NEEDLES ... that i am sort of assuming he has at this point shrugs ]

Okay what color do you want? Blue or like... blue blue?

[respired]

A cozy will not help, Lance.

[ He sighs, and tries again with a more even tone. ]

But I thank you for trying to do me a kindness.

[competing]

What? Why not?

[ look he doesn't know death knight physiology okay who does ]

[respired]

Because I'm dead. No warmth stays in my skin. Not for long.

[competing]

Oh.

[ well that's new. ]

Does it bother you? The coldness...

[ he figures the dead thing does. wouldn't it bother anyone? ]

[respired]

I do not particularly enjoy it. But neither is there any help for it--not permanently, anyway.

[ it's why he likes alcohol and hot baths ]