He'd handed off his store to Verdigris in an attempt to cut down on his responsibilities. It had seemed the best choice, he'd needed to drop something after all, to spend more time with Rowan and Abigail, and the store just didn't pull in the same money as acting. It also, he hated to say, gave him less satisfaction. So now it was Verdigris', and she was doing amazing work.

The siren call of the workshop was hard to resist however. Time to think. Time to create. It was therapeutic. Hence why the Mansion maintenance workshops had a fully operational forge tucked away in a corner. He was only doing it for himself though, he wasn't taking any more orders. That had been the first rule. It wasn't going to become work, it was just art for his own sake.

What art isn't for the artist's own sake? Pretty self indulgent over all.

Yet there he was, expecting Rebecca any minute. That girl ran through shields like no one else could. He really wished she'd just stop throwing the poor things. It would be a start if she could even just recover the metal. He was a metal manipulator! Perfectly efficient recycling and repairs were a mere thought away! And she could just will it to move. Whatever, she was always good for half the material costs anyway. He'd have asked for more, but he felt bad enough asking for any. Especially when he'd been writing them off as losses on tax.

The power hammer drove down onto a glowing bar of steel, drawing it out thousands of times faster than he could have managed with a whole team of strikers. He may well have been going too fast, but he was confident in the welds between the layers of steel. It was going to make a some very pretty metal once he gave it an acid bath. Not for the first time he debated seeing just how many folds he could get. Theoretically, infinite, the time investment was just ridiculous though. He doubted it would be worth it except as an experiment in patience. At what point did it just become a new grade of steel?

Thousand layer face-plate for a decorative helm. Who am I even going to give it to?

The billet had cooled too far to keep hammering, and he didn't think it worth reheating. Cafas dropped the bar on to his bench (That technically was not his, but may as well have been) and wiped sweat from his brow onto his beat up, burned, and oft band-sandered glove. He tucked the gloves into the pocket of his leather apron, then ditched that onto a hook, along with his ear and eye protection. Rebecca's would be a mutation job, and he wasn't counting on getting any more work done.

Where had he put his shirt? It was around somewhere. Sweat continued to bead and drip over his torso in the hundred sixty degree air around his little set up. Perhaps a towel was a better starting place. A shower was probably in order before he picked Rowan up from class for the afternoon. Wash off the must, and the sharp smell of hot metal.

"Seriously gotta stop just throwing my clothes wherever..."

Atlantis was a successful mission. The whole day was successful really, Rebecca thought to herself with a satisfied smile. So many things went well, from the defeat of racist Atlanteans, saving mutant children, unlocking a new aspect of her powers, and the fling with Gawain. With everything coming up aces for Rebecca, it was almost easy to forget that she lost her shield in the fight.

In Rebecca’s defense, some things were impossible to predict. Her shield was lost when an Atlantean mutant opened a small portal and shunted it into some negative space. It was not Rebecca’s fault that she found herself in shield-losing situations. The last time, an acid-spitting mutant reduced the shield to nothing. Before that, she was dealing with a mutant who actually ate metal, and earlier still, someone turned her shield into a cookie. Understandably, Cafas probably had his doubts about Rebecca’s growing list of excuses, but they were all true.

Well, fine. She did make something up the time she just forgot her shield on the other side of the rift. She was genuinely concerned he might stop making her shields after a mistake like that.

As a manipulator of magnetism, having Cafas on the team was a boon for Rebecca. Between the man’s mutation and his knowledge of metalworking, he was the go-to answer for all her armor and metallic accessory needs. Rebecca was not a mooch; a fair chunk of her ViewTube money was set aside to cover costs for replacements and repairs. She did not want to take advantage of a teammate’s kindness more than she already was.

Cafas had moved his operations into the Mansion’s workships, which made for a convenient commute. Rebecca scheduled their meeting time at the end of the school day so she could head down right after her last class. The shield would not be Rebecca’s only request, unbeknownst to Cafas, and the second would require measurements, so Rebecca planned accordingly. Underneath her slacks and buttoned top, Rebecca wore a no-frills, form-fitting one-piece swimsuit. None of the students noticed (thankfully,) but if they did, she could have dismissed it by claiming she intended to go for a swim at the Mansion pool after classes. It would be an easier explanation than, “I need someone to measure me for a harness.” That kind of admission could start some nasty rumors.

Rebecca reached the workshop and spotted Cafas hard at work, shirtless and glistening in the heat of the forge. He was definitely not an unattractive man, but he was Maya’s man. All the muscles and movie star good looks in the world could not make that a path worth exploring. Teasing was as far as she would go, so she smirked and crossed her arms over her chest. ”Noo yer jist showing aff, Caf.”

Cafas spotted his shirt off in a corner, crumpled up beside a belt sander, in a pile of iron filings. It wasn't a huge issue, but the filings were too fine for him to remove in the workshop. He needed somewhere he could just throw out a general pulse. Whatever, it could just sit there, not like Rebecca was shy.

Plus it's still too hot for that.

Speaking of Rebecca, she had managed to sneak up on him. It probably didn't help that his ears were still ringing, but he felt a bit of a fool for letting his guard down so much. He wasn't in his own shop, with Verdy out front and security locks on everything, he was at the Mansion; The biggest mutant hate target on the planet. With the X-men out front. Actually maybe he had every reason to feel relaxed. That made him feel a bit better about it. It would soon be forgotten.

>>”Noo yer jist showing aff, Caf.”

The X-man turned, his face a perfect mask of innocent confusion. "Who, me?" Cafas faked a stretch, running through a short transition of bodybuilder poses in slow, smooth succession. "I'm wounded you'd even suggest it." His mask cracked and fell apart, revealing the mirthful grin barely concealed beneath it. It really was always a pleasure to see Becca. Girl broke more hearts than he did, looking how she did. He winked and wandered back over to his-not-his bench, sweeping a section of it clear with a mix of mutation and muscle.

1095 goes... Dang which of those stacks is it?

"So, what was it this time? No wait, let me guess, a giant dog ate it?" Cafas chuckled and started a fresh sheet on his drafting pad. "So, what we going for this time?" He stuck the pencil behind his ear and hopped up to sit on the bench, facing the distractingly attractive redhead. Eye contact was maintained. He had experience.

It was hard to dislike Cafas. He was funny and had the kind of swagger you only got away with by not taking yourself too seriously. He was a good guy, which seemed rare some days. For all his fame and rugged good looks, he was loyal like a pink-haired puppy. Maya made a wise choice claiming the guy for herself, and she deserved it after everything she went through before him. Maybe in one of the numerous “other universes,” Rebecca made a move on the metalmancer, but in her own reality, it never occurred to her, and that was fine. The last thing she was looking for was a relationship, and Cafas was archetypal boyfriend material.

It was still charming to watch him play off Rebecca’s teasing accusations. He feigned innocence while putting on a hammy gun-show. That got the redhead laughing. ”Ah mean, it wasnae a complaint. Jist an observation. Ah can see why Maya’s willing tae put up wi’ ye.” The showboating was very Cafas, and it was all part of his charm.

Of course, Rebecca was not visiting Cafas’s workshop for his charm. She needed his skills, and he was ready to get to work. He was a great multitasker; he was able to clean up his work station and pass judgment on her all at once. Her cheeks pinkened and she rolled her eyes, defiantly replying, ”Some portal-creatur sent mah shield intae some pucket dimension. He was tay busy bein' arrested by th' Atlantean royal guard tae gie it back. Prick.” The lost shield was one of many reasons Rebecca bore ill-will to the bigots of Atlantis. Fortunately, tossing large chunks of a pillar at them was quite therapeutic.

Cafas was ready to start drafting up blueprints, but his grey eyes were focused on her mismatched eyes rather than the paper. He needed her input, and she was getting better at providing it. ”Definitely anither circle shield. Th' shape an' angle ay th' lest dome was perfect.” With her magnetic abilities, she could feasibly toss any shape shield, but the circle shields were also ideal for her fighting style at close range.

Rebecca tucked a lock of red hair behind her ear and leaned across the table so she could get a better look at Cafas’s blueprints. ”Ah was wonderin' if thaur was some way tae make th' material used fur th' surface smooth an' resilient enaw tae be reflectife?”

Cafas arched and eyebrow in amusement. "All that should be easy enough, but let me get this straight." Cafas fished behind himself for a stack of metal bars. He pulled it around and checked the grade written on it. "You expect me to believe that some magic creature from the lost city of Atlantis, a Greek legend, put your shield into a pocket dimension before being arrested by the Atlantis police and carted off presumably to mermaid jail?" He shook his head and grabbed a rag and a bottle of denatured alcohol. "Now that's a ridiculous tale if I ever heard one. These excuses really do get better every time." He flashed her a grin and got to removing the sharpie from the metal.

"At least you made it back okay." The steel bars were fused into a larger block as he finished cleaning them, impurities falling off as he boiled off the outer layers. It never occurred to him that he could do the same with the sharpie. It was a quick process, he had a lot of experience, and he was holding a solid block of metal in under a minute. He tossed the block gently into the air and caught it, to test the weight. He was pretty sure it was the same as her last one. The Metal manipulator held it out to her. "Here, tell me how the weight feels. Easier to add or remove now than later." He left the metal hovering in mid air, and leaned back on his hands.

"As for reflective, that's less a material issue and more a matter of initial work, then maintenance. I mean, using stainless would cut down on the maintenance side, but it would also make an inferior shield. So, mirror polish right, like Perseus with the medusa, to keep on theme." The metal manipulator watched the steel block, trying to guage for himself how the weight was. Which led him to watching her movements. Which could easily be misinterpreted. He returned eyeward. "That's really just elbow grease and the right grit. I can do it, hell I have the right tools to do it fast, but it's gonna fall to you to keep it that way. High carbon steel is gonna rust if you let it, and that will ruin the finish." Not that he hadn't told her how to look after a shield before, but it was way more important if she wanted to keep the finish. It was going to be a weekly routine so close to the sea, and that was just if it was hung on a wall.

"How is it?"

Rebecca knew full-well that Cafas was aware of the team’s first trip to Altantis, but he could not pass up the opportunity to be a pain in the butt and give her grief. She replied with a heavy sigh, but could not stop herself from smirking. ”First ay aw, mermaid jail soonds loch th’ best jail. Ah’d volunteer fur mermaid jail. An’ jist ye wait; next time, it’ll be smashed by a Norse god.” Cafas had no right to be shocked by the variety of ways Rebecca broke and lost shields. They were X-Men; dealing with strange, fantastical situations was part of the job description.

Dealing with a mutant mob was taxing, but Cafas was right; she made it back in one piece, even if she was out one shield. ”Aye, it was cake,” she lied. ”Maya had mah back, an’ th’ Queen became a giant clood ay smoke an’ knocked it th’ mob.” If he was going to tease her for the lack of realism in her story, she was going to lean into it by embracing how absurd her last mission actually was.

A metal bar was offered and Rebecca took it in her left hand so she could compare the weight to the last shield. The difference in size and shape and the time since she lost her shield made it hard to compare, but Rebecca had a general idea. She made an effort to be familiar with the intricacies of the shields Cafas made her, since she was literally trusting them with her life.

Cafas had ideas to keep her new shield shiny and reflective, but most of them boiled down to proper upkeep. Rebecca could do that; when she was not losing shields, she took care of them like treasured possessions. As he spoke, Cafas’s gaze was following Rebecca closely. She knew his focus was on her movements; Cafas was a professional. She still felt goosebumps rise along her skin, regardless.

Taking a few final swings with the metal to assess it, Rebecca handed it back to the smith. ”It’s a wee bit heavier, Ah think, but Ah’m a wee bit stronger, sae 'at shoods be perfect.” Her grad school retirement days felt long behind her, so Rebecca had plenty of time to regain some of the upper and lower body strength she let diminish due to her studies. It felt good to be back in prime form.


”As lang as it’s wide enaw fur Gawain tae jump in an' it ay, it shoods be fine.” Recalling her last shield, it was probably two or three inches too narrow. ”Sae mebbe a wee bit mair woods be best.”

Watching Cafas put in the prep-work for her shield, Rebecca wondered how to broach the topic of her second request. She decided to slowly work up to it by making sure he would be able to help her out in the first place. ”Sae hoo lang dae ye think th’ shield’ll take? Yer nae busy wi’ tay many projects, ur ye?”

"If Thor smashes your shield, I won't even be mad."

Cafas accepted the metal back and started cleaning up the edge. He didn't need to, it just made him feel better. For good measure he floated another bar into the mix, taking off the ink while both block and billet hung in the air. He fused them when it was done and spun it to get a better look. It certainly looked a bit big, but it had to fit a whole Gawain through it and be thick enough to protect. It would do.

"You always have the weirdest requests Bec. Never before have I been asked to fit a man through a shield." He shook his head and started forcing the metal into the proper shape. It went from solid block, to liquid sphere, to domed shield in a few flexes of his mutation. He had to close his eyes to visualise the circle nice and evenly, but only a moment. It was centre handled which just made things easier. After all, it needed to be thrown. He did what he could to start the polish with his mutation, but it just wasn't as easy as it seemed. With another flex he tempered it to the best of his eyeballing, so to speak. It would serve to be sure.

"Bout that long? Polishing, give me an hour tops. I'm free until six when the after school guys let out. I'm really just doing this for fun these days." He shrugged, but he found he missed it. He figured he'd go back to it when he stopped being useful to the X-men. He couldn't see his conditioning lasting beyond forty. That still left years of good smithing. "If you've got places to be I can drop it off for you later. I mean, feel free to hang out too if you like."

The X-man hopped off his bench and grabbed a buffing wheel and his best polishing grits. "Probably best if you put on hearing and eye protection if you're staying though." Speaking of which, he should grab his own. His project and tools followed behind him as he moved to safety up.

It was cute that Cafas thought her requests up to that point had been weird, considering what was yet to come. Rebecca fancied herself a creative-type and the way she solved problems usually reflected that. Given her compatibility with Maya in a fight, she thought a “mirror shield” would increase her synergy with the mirrorwalker. She could provide them with quick escapes and entrances, but the shield had to accommodate Gawain, whose shoulders were broader than Maya. Everything made sense in her head, but it was not easy to get someone else to follow her train of thought.

Watching Cafas work was fascinating because of the relationship between their powers. Rebecca could manipulate magnetism, which was very helpful around certain metals, but Cafas could alter the metal itself. He was another member of the team she needed to develop better synergy with; the possibilities and creative solutions they would have at their disposal were endless.

Having a blacksmith like Cafas around spoiled Rebecca. The way he worked with metal was so quick, she would lose her mind in impatience waiting for a traditional smith to get work done. Rebecca did receive the important confirmation that Cafas was not swamped with work. Smithing was apparently just a hobby, which meant he was “coming out of retirement” every time Rebecca came to him with a request. It was a sweet gesture that reminded Rebecca not to take his services for granted.

”Ah’ll stick aroond,” she confirmed, following him to get protection for her eyes and ears. ”But if yer nae tay busy, Ah may hae anaither request.” The question was not yet spoken, but Rebecca could already feel the heat rising to her cheeks. ”Ah know ye work mainly wi’ metal, but… hoo comfortable ur ye wi’ leather?” There was no way to ask a question like that without sounding inappropriate or suggestive, so Rebecca just went for it.

He grabbed his glasses and fenangled them on to his face. Balancing everything as he was felt a little like juggling, or spinning plates. Not that Cafas had any idea what those felt like. It made everything just that little harder, especially surrounded as he was by metal instruments and materials. With his ear defenders around his neck he grabbed the buffer from the air. The shield was big and regular enough for him to deal with easily.

>>”But if yer nae tay busy, Ah may hae anaither request.”

"I'm all ears." He poured some of the buffing paste onto the shield and set the bottle down.

>>”Ah know ye work mainly wi’ metal, but… hoo comfortable ur ye wi’ leather?”

Cafas ears flushed red as he quickly tried to stifle a chortle. He didn't get hold of it in time. With an eyebrow cocked high in intrigue, Cafas turned to face the blushing woman. That actually caught his attention. His other eyebrow jumped up and joined its pair. "Now Miss Grey, if I didn't know better, I'd swear you were flirting with me." The shirtless and scarred fighter flexed slightly, muscles rippling in response. If he wasn't entirely sure the question was innocent, he never would have been pushing it so far. "I'm afraid you're going to have to take that request up with Maya. Fair warning, she can take your breath away, and not just figuratively." He winked, and it did flash through his mind that Rebecca might have meant exactly that. No though, and even then, as if Maya would say yes. But...

Nope, shake that thought out.

Rebecca was really quite hard to keep his eyes off, especially once such topics were raised. Cafas forced his eyes not to drop, and focused on trying to permanently memorise the sidedness of the Magnetomancer's heterochromia. That was his usual trick with her. Or tracing shapes in her freckles. He knew plenty of woman who found him a more attentive listener than most men would agree to.

"I mean, I'm obviously slower, more attentive, and certainly less experienced, but I'm very comfortable working with leather." Who was being deliberately vague? Certainly not Cafas. Cafas was being perfectly innocent, and there was certainly no suggestive undertone to his voice or expression. It wasn't every day he got to make Rebecca Grey blush. Normally that was the other way round, when he let his gaze wander while he thought. He certainly had plenty of experience making those kind of jokes with Maya. It no longer set him all afluster.

In the first iterations of Rebecca’s X-Uniform, she wore a metal chest plate. In some ways, it was a defensive measure, but she realistically understood the limited protection it offered. The true benefit of her armor was always the mobility it provided. Being able to pull herself around with her arms, legs, and body allowed for more dynamic movements in the air. Without some way to manipulate her body, her movements were limited and less natural.

The only problem was the flexibility a full piece of armor took away. Rebecca was growing as a fighter, and that involved the ability to move quickly. A chest piece made it harder to throw a punch or lean out of the way of an attack. Looking for the creative solution, Rebecca needed something less bulky and restrictive that still incorporated metal that was kept close enough to her body to provide control.

To his credit, Cafas took the request exactly how she expected him to. He clearly knew her intentions were not questionable, but he could not resist the urge to poke fun at her. ”Nae, troost me, nae flirtin'. Ah loch mah lungs an' Ah loch them nae collapsed.” She doubted Maya would go so far over harmless flirting, but it was always important to remember that she probably could.

Once Cafas was done giving her a hard time, he admitted he was comfortable enough to work competently with leather. He sounded comfortable enough to get Rebecca’s mind wandering, but she would stifle all unnecessary questionable thoughts away to potentially take out on Gawain later to dismiss so she could focus on more important matters.

Not that the details of her request were going to make things any better. ”Sae Ah was hopin' fur somethin' 'at coods help mah stability when Ah’m hoverin. Ah need it tae nae limit mah movements, but Ah also need it tae cling ticht against mah body, ideally under mah costume.” Was the workshop getting hotter? No, it must have been the forge. Easiest explanation.

”Ah was thinking maybe… a harness? Ye know, strips ay leather connected wi’ metal rings connected aroond mah upper body an’ thighs?” Rebecca was no longer making eye contact with Cafas, because she highly doubted she could continue explaining her request in the face of a judgmental gaze. ”Just a totally innocent harness,” she muttered.

Cafas hadn't thought it could get any better, but boy did it ever. His teasing expression died on his face, transformed into very real interest. The shield fell to the floor with a resounding clang, followed by a metallic rolling as it spun itself flat. The sound startled the nascent imagery right out of Cafas' head. Now he really didn't know what to make of things. Well, obviously she wasn't flirting, and a tiny part of him was disappointed by that. Still, what she was describing was very much bondage gear. He'd had a pretty clear image of it actually, just a moment before. He chose to take it at face value.

Not that she needs to know that.

"A perfectly innocent harness. Of leather strap and metal rings. That has to fit... Tightly... Under your..." His mock accusatory and disbelieving tone trailed off. Cafas frowned every so slightly, staring over the redhead into the middle distance as the full request sunk in. He focused back in and looked down at her, mild concern on his face. He opened his mouth a few times in false starts before he convinced words to form. In the end he had to duck down to fuss with the fallen shield. He could tell it was undamaged without a visual check, but boy was he ever giving it a thorough one.

"Isn't your uniform pretty tight? I mean..." Without raising his eyes he turned and walked to the bench, setting down both shield and buffer, staring pointedly at his drafting sheet. "How well fitted do you need it? Like, perfect fit and ring placement, or... Because I mean I'm going to need to take measurements, but if it's not a big deal, I can just approximate and..." He coughed and started drawing a basic idea. He figured something like a skydiving harness would work. How many rings would it need? How did her lifting work. He had a lot of questions, he had to just act like an adult and face her. He'd been facing away from her far too long, it was staring to be almost rude.

He was being silly anyway. He was letting his own runaway mental imagery, and Rebecca's own embarrassment, get the better of him. It was turning him into a stammering mess. It wasn't like she was actually naked. She was fully dressed, and even if she hadn't been, he'd seen it all before. Why was it so different if it was a team member? Still blushing, he turned to speak to her properly.

Well, they were still talking, so Rebecca did not die of embarrassment and Cafas did not banish her as a sinner and a harlot. She certainly got the blacksmith’s attention, causing him to drop the newly minted shield to the ground with a loud clatter. She genuinely caught Cafas off guard, not that she could blame him; had an attractive woman approached her and asked her to make what was essentially bondage-gear, she would have been too queer to handle the request. Cafas was a man and there was documented evidence that he was attracted to women, so Rebecca could give him a pass.

She did giggle. It was nice to know she was not the only one feeling awkward and exposed.

Cafas did his part to tease her, but his voice trailed off as all the implications of her request hit him. There were words on the tip of his tongue, but he failed to find them and eventually chose to focus on the shield. Something about his reaction forced Rebecca to cross her arms over her chest, covering herself like the whole workshop was leering at her.

Finally finding his voice, Cafas questioned Rebecca’s uniform and she already knew where things were leading. ”Mah uniform is ticht, but th’ new material’s a wee bit thicker than afore. It shoods conceal th’ whole thing. Ah jist,” she started, before stopping herself when she felt her face grow hotter. At that point in the conversation, she was sure her freckles were just fading into the redness of her skin. ”Ah dinnae want thes tae be oan th’ outside.” The last thing Rebecca needed was a reputation as the bondage heroine. That would be a career death sentence in the internet age. (Her heroing career anyway. She was sure other, less savory offers would crop up.)

As something form-fitting, Rebecca needed precise measurements, which was going to be a process. ”Ah was hinkin’ a network ay leather straps configured in diamonds across mah front tae mah back, wi’ each intersection haeing a ring. Since they cannae be tay big, more woods gie me stability an’ spread th’ pressure.” The last thing she needed was her own harness choking her to death.

Cafas was still turned away from her, but Rebecca had no clue how to politely ask for permission to remove clothing. He was shirtless, after all! And there was a purpose to her wardrobe, so Rebecca started unbuttoning her shirt. ”Ah’m lookin’ fur a perfect fit sae Ah’m nae getting friction burns. Ah was hopin’ thes micht make measurements easier.” Rebecca did not want to make her comment sound suggestive, but that was hard when she had her shirt completely unbuttoned and was in the process of shimmying out of her slacks.

His day had taken a really unexpected turn. Cafas had turned around with a question on his lips, but it was driven away, leaving him just standing slack jawed, face red, caught in an expression of apprehension. He quickly recovered some composure, before losing it again as he fell into relieved laughter. She was wearing swimmers. It didn't leave a great deal to the imagination, but it was still better than he'd briefly thought it might be. "Oh thank god. For just a second I thought you were about to completely strip. Gave me a heart attack." Which wasn't the least of it.

Still, from the sound of it he was going to be needing a lot of careful measurements. That wasn't the worst of it. From there he was going to have to do math. That was just cruel and unusual. The design work alone would be interesting. Then the fittings. Those were probably going to be a lot harder than the measuring. If nothing else it was going to be interesting, and he could think of worse people to be doing the project for. From her description of what she was imagining, he could also see why she didn't want that on the outside of her uniform. It would be a constant hazard, too easy to catch on something, or otherwise restrain her. It was also just an image thing. They didn't need that kind of publicity as a team, and he doubted Becca wanted it herself.

"So a bunch of steel rings attached to a leather harness need to lift you, presumably as comfortably as possible, and in a dynamic range of positions? This is probably going to involve a lot of iteration. It's certainly not going to be quick." Cafas had his voice back, at least for that moment. "Just uh, hang your clothes wherever. Probably don't need the protective gear either. I'll polish the shield after we get this started." The metal manipulator quickly searched around his bench for his pencil He knew he'd just had it. His notepad was just there by the drawing paper. His measuring tapes were dumped haphazardly in an old tin, but he couldn't find the pencil. He scratched his head in confusion, then sighed at himself. Right where he'd left it.

Well at least I didn't ask...

Tape in hand he circled Becca as best he could, eyes flickering over her swimsuit clad body as he tried to form an image for the project; How it would look, where the stress points would be, where it would likely need to take her weight, how to disperse the pressure for comfort, where to put buckles, Maya' face if she could see him in that moment. Becca really did have a point about the lungs. Speaking of lungs, it would probably need to disperse weight more evenly on the front. That presented its own problems. He'd been staring at Beccas chest for a while, trying to think, when he realised what he was doing.

Oops. Pay attention Cafas.

"Uh, sorry." He grimaced awkwardly and started to try and explain himself, "Was just trying to work the design out." The confidence the relief had brought back was starting to fade as proximity and his rather thorough inspection of her body took their toll. He felt a little hot around the ears again. He hadn't been so flustered around a woman in a long while, and he'd been around more than a few in greater states of undress. Maybe it was just how casual actors were about it. Maybe it was the fact he'd considered asking Rebecca out before. "Okay, I have some thoughts, is it cool if I touch you?"

They were going to be a lot closer after this ordeal, he could tell.

It was not her intent, but the look on Cafas’s face was priceless. If Rebecca was not in a heightened state of embarrassment, she would have loved to laugh at Cafas’s jaw hanging open. In a way, it was flattering to realize her body had that kind of power over men, but in another way, it was a great reminder that she was disrobing in public. If she could pray for one thing, it was that no students would feel the need to get crafty in the workshop.

When the reality of her outfit caught Cafas, he finally laughed, allowing Rebecca to do the same. In the split second when he saw pants shimmying off, his brain thought she was disrobing completely. ”Oh, nae, nae, Ah think thes’ll dae fur ye. Anything beyond thes’d hae tae be in yer dreams.” Why would she even say that? It was more arrogant than she intended and she was not a particularly cocky person. Rebecca was just unskilled with being around friends with minimal clothing outside of a cosplay or sexual situation, so she was trying to teach herself quickly what was proper or poor etiquette.

With the initial awkwardness out of the way, Cafas proved he understood the basic concept of what Rebecca was asking for. He figured out her list of needs for the harness and confirmed that the project would take time. ”Ah figured, and Ah’d nae ask fur a rush job oan something sae intricate.” The harness was something Rebecca could live without while she waited to get it just right.

Placing her clothes and protection aside, Rebecca stood still and watched as Cafas circled her, pen in hand, assessing her body. A tingly feeling ran through her because she was used to situations like that leading to something very different than a series of measurements.

It was not Rebecca’s place to question a craftsman, but after several moments passed with Cafas’s eyes glued to her chest, she wondered what exactly he was thinking and how professional those thoughts were. She was not forced to ask, as Cafas caught himself and explained the staring away. Based on the uncomfortable look on his face, Rebecca was willing to believe he had zoned out in his own logistical thoughts rather than guestimating her cup size, (which at some point he might need anyway, she realized.)

”Aye, just part ay th’ job. Naething weird, richt?” she affirmed, trying to act like close-proximity measurements were a part of her daily routine. Even when she worked on cosplays, Rebecca was able to manage her own measurements. The harness was outside of her skillset, so she was going to have to give Cafas access. She knew contact was going to be necessary, but she still instinctively bit her lip nervously before nodding. ”Ye cannae measure frae a distance. Tooch away,” she said, raising her arms so he could have easy access to her body.

That was the last thought she needed in that moment.

It was a good thing she'd been willing, otherwise he was at a loss on how to take measurements. Lasers, probably. He didn't have lasers to hand. It would have been a delay at the very least. As to nothing weird, he wasn't entirely sure he could promise that given some of the support points she was going to need. He scribbled down what measurements he could predict needing on the pad.

"Okay, well I guess let's start with the simple ones." He could manage that. Still holding both pad and pencil, Cafas extended the tape and began. Nice and easy one, shoulder width. "Touching." He drew the tape out and noted the number down. "So, I've got some idea, just want to run it by you, get your thoughts." Cafas figured he may as well do it then. Distract them both from their situation. "First, I'm thinking we run this some way down your thighs. Maybe have it cinch, touching..." He took a measure around her left shoulder joint for the arm hole. "Like, an inch above your knee? Touching." He took the opposite arm measure, forcing his eyes to remain firmly on the tape, and reminding himself constantly that he was very much spoken for, trying to drive distractions from his head.

There are going to be way more awkward measurements yet...

He skipped the bust measurement for the time. He hadn't quite recovered from getting lost in though while staring at her chest, he didn't need to aggravate that embarrassment. It was already distracting enough that he was close enough to smell her. He was really trying not to. Still, he could have picked her shampoo from a line up. "Also, there's the matter of how many rings you, touching," Neck, which didn't help him with not smelling her hair, "need, and where you need them positioned. Actually that's a point, I'm going to need to actually measure exact distances, touching," left shoulder seam, "From ring to ring, which will probably mean sticking a bunch of them to you at some point after we decide on dimensions for the rings. Touching." And right.

Would you incorporate a bra? How? How do you even make one? Would it work?

"I'm also thinking about your breasts," he went on, scribbling down the number before realising what he'd just said with wide eyed horror, "Or rather, I mean, uh, you know. I mean I was thinking we don't want to put too much pressure on them. You know. Not like, you know, not that they aren't..." His hole was rapidly turning into an open cut mine. "Yeah so we don't want to put any rings on them, or straps. I don't have them, I mean, obviously, uh, what was I, oh yeah." He swallowed hard and shook his head to try and compose himself. It didn't really help. "Uh, yeah, did you have any thoughts about that?"