"...?"[break]

Was someone following him? Raynauld could've sworn someone was following him, or at least that's what it felt like. He didn't have that much money on him, so any robbers were going to be sorely disappointed. Or maybe one of the Devils was following him to make sure he was okay?[break]

... Doubtful. If it were Rex or Akeno, he would've heard them long before they showed up in his peripheral at all given their utter lack of tact; Drakka at least understood being stealthy, but she was too socially awkward and would've preferred bullrushing him in conversation. So he was just imagining it, perhaps.[break]

Raynauld broke left and strode towards the area where players often kept their crafting stations. Before his own (a small hovel, albeit obvious - it was the one with the crimson infinity symbol and the cross on the door) he stopped and then wheeled around to see... A little girl... Who?

"... Ohhhh, you're from the Otohime fight." That was right, the young girl that literally fell from the sky that he dragged back to their position. The... Guardian Angel, her class read. Yeah, now he remembered; definitely didn't forget or anything. "Do you... need something?"

Chandra

ulla

At first he thought she was just going to sit there twiddling her thumbs until his message notifications began to light up; so she was speaking to him through that? ... Come to think of it, she did something like this then, too. But wouldn't it be quicker to...[break]

No, people were just naturally weird in this game, he told himself. All he had to do was look at the Devils for proof of that.[break]

"Ah. Well, I was merely doing my duty." The Otohime fight saw a lot of death on the players' side. To save one life was merely... merely... well, he wasn't totally certain anymore, honestly. He saved one life, that was true. But the number of dead from that event...[break]

"... You can come in if you want, I suppose - Oh, hang on." With some difficulty (given his hands were full) he managed to send a party invite to Chandra, the only obvious way someone could enter an instanced space such as a private Crafting Station. After some more difficulty with the door, he managed to kick it open and enter the building.[break]

Inside, it looked like something of a medieval fantasy living room. A table sat in the centre of the room, the sound of clanging metal ringing out as Raynauld dumped the armor pieces onto it. On the west wall, a kiln sat (though it looked more like a fireplace than anything), and across from it were two chairs tilted at angles to face it. Hanging on the wall next to it was what looked like a beast hide, and over in the other corner near various weaponsmithing tools sat a large horn that looked like it had to be physically ripped from whatever wore it prior. Various tools sat in various boxes around the area; there were stairs leading up to a second floor (Perhaps a living space? That would be odd, though...) Most prominently, a few mannequins dressed in clothes that looked handmade.[break]

More notably, the occasional trapping of his life could be seen. A cross sat above the fireplace. An end table sat between the two chairs; atop it was a Bible (or at least a reasonable facsimile of one) and a small model church similar to the one in the Origins town. A rosary on a crimson string hung from a hook near the door, and the symbol of his God, Lasivia, on the welcome mat on the floor.[break]

"Excuse the mess, I didn't plan for company." Raynauld removed the rest of his cracked and broken armor, setting it down one-by-one until the whole set was on the table and he was in his undershirt and pants. "Hah. Where do I even begin..."[break]

Chandra

ulla

After a good few minutes of staring at it, he wasn't totally certain how he'd go about fixing the Stahlkorper. His actual profession of Weaponsmith aside, it was not as if the materials around would let him fix the grievous damage the armor had taken in that struggle.[break]

Well, this was as good a time as any to do something with that leathery hide...[break]

Clearing a part of the table from armored parts for the time being, Raynauld moved and took the leathered hide from off the wall. It had been cured and tanned to the best of his ability to avoid having it rot in the time he'd had it since facing the centaur, but otherwise it had gone untouched since.[break]

Placing it on the table, Raynauld pulled a box of minute tools from under the table and took out various items from it, measuring out various sections of the hide, as if he had done something like this before.[break]

Chandra

ulla

The notification broke Raynauld's focus; mercifully he didn't ruin the hide in the process. So... she just messaged everyone in lieu of actually talking? That was one mystery down, at least.[break]

"Depends," He responded, talking as he worked - was that proper etiquette for receiving a message? "I hear some people just take their items elsewhere and have someone do the work for them. Others make the end results themselves. I do this since it's just like making clothes."[break]

He made clothes? Raynauld didn't seem the type. More importantly, that was something the devils barely knew - Akeno and Drakka were totally ignorant, and he only ever told Rex in passing once. Yet, Chandra got to know from the word "go". Curious. Maybe he felt more at ease around her.[break]

Raynauld knew his own measurements; divvying the hide up into top and bottom parts was simple enough. Once he'd marked various parts, he took a knife and began cutting the hide into the component parts he needed.[break]

Chandra

ulla

In short order, he'd cut the pieces out. Taking some form of cloth from under the table, he set it up against the furniture before cracking open a barrel of some substance - dye, used to turn the leather pieces black.[break]

One towel on the floor later, the parts were left to hang on a line to dry. That would likely take some time, so until then Raynauld cut three swatches from the cloth he'd previously placed of varying sizes from it and tossed them onto the seat Chandra wasn't sitting in. After that, he'd grabbed the box and moved it over to the table, taking out threads in various colors and a needle. In short order, he'd begun sewing something onto one of the bigger patches (the other two were comparatively tiny).[break]

If Chandra had anything she wanted to say (or message), this would have been the time. If she didn't, he'd just go back to work on the swatch with a level of focus that was surprising, considering he usually spent his time loudly preaching and shouting various Latin phrases.[break]

Chandra

ulla

Whenever Chandra woke up, it was likely that several hours would have passed. She would've undoubtedly noticed the blanket thrown on her, not that she had been moved from her original location. Raynauld must've gotten it from somewhere (Upstairs?) and tossed it onto her. The bread she'd laid out for him had long since been eaten.[break]

Outside of that, it was clear that time had passed enough for the hung pieces to dry and for Raynauld to sew them together (or maybe he was simply that swift with needle and thread?). Indeed, at the moment he was currently working on the last piece of the puzzle. An iron sat in the fireplace, and it was writ hot. When he removed it, it was clear the end in the flames was odd in look, bearing an odd symbol. In moments, he pressed it against one of the pant legs, a loud sizzle crackling to life. Just as quickly, he pulled it back, immediately pressing the hot end into a barrel of water.[break]

After letting it cool, he took the finished product and moved upstairs; the sounds of shuffling could be heard. When he returned from the second floor, he now wore the new clothes - armor made in the image of bikers. Outlaw bikers, to be precise; the wicked patches on the back declaring "MC" and "1%" told that better than its image. It was a totally different beast from his previous armor.[break]

At about that moment, he noticed Chandra.[break]

"Oh, are you finally awake? You seemed tired, so I didn't mean to wake you."[break]

Chandra

ulla