Quality Time

==Quality Advice==
Dion left the Magic Knight Exam's Gala feeling somewhat dejected. The evening had been alright. They'd given free food, he'd managed to meet up but not one but two of his acquaintances, and much more than that, he'd gotten an actual experience in the shoes of a Magic Knight. Even if it was only for a few hours, he came to know the way they lived, the way they dined, the way they talked with one another. A life he very much wanted for himself, but with that, he'd also learn getting to that point was not as easy as he hoped it would've been.
It made him regress.
"Damn it..." Dion said, posture slouched, as he walked through the merchant district of Kikka. Due to Fen, he'd lost his job, and more than that, any other chance of recovering one. Spending the day attempting to get one, he was met with rejections, looks of anger, and whispers of him. Of a young man that had taken advantage of a "hard-working" boss. Of course, it was fabricated, but that didn't matter to commoners.
Amongst the many shops, there was one that stood out. One that he hadn't visited. A smithing shop. With half a mind to just return home, Dion walked into the establishment. One he had never seen, nor heard of before, hoping to put an end to his pitiful job-hunting.
"Hello, uh, anyone here?"
The double bar doors that led to the back swung open as Ohdove Heartslamb stepped through them, wiping her face with a towel. A large, silver and steel hammer was slung over her shoulder, and not a scrap of Mana could be felt from her besides the faintest trickling of a source. Smiling, she set the hammer down. "Yeah, yeah, here I am." Looking him over, she tilted her head. "Jeez. You look like someone kicked your dog into the fire. Sit. I'll put some coffee on." She gestured to a small table by the wall.
"H-huh?" was all Dion could muster. Instinctively he moved over to the table and sat down. In a way, he felt pressured to do so. There was something about the woman that made him follow her orders, perhaps the fact that it would've been unkind to reject her request, or perhaps lower his chances of getting a job.
"You do this with all your guests?" He asked, though no curiosity could be felt from his person. His hands interlocked on the table, eyes focused solely on them.
Despite the kindness of the woman, the walls, floor, and ceiling of the crafts shop was covered in slashes, burns, breaks, and repairs. It was warm in the room, but the pressure that Dion would feel came only from himself. A black iron teapot was brought out, tea and cheese crackers being set for Dion.
She looked up at Dion and frowned, tilting her head. "No, just the ones that I think need it. You look like rain on a parade day. So, what is it you need? You must have a reason for wandering in so close to closing time."
Dion didn't grab the cup, not because he didn't want to, but some sort of mental pressure prevented him from doing so. Perhaps the shock that a shop owner had actually brewed tea for him. The smell itself was almost intoxicating, his nostrils flared, a wave of calmness immediately washing over him due to it. Somehow, it made him feel comfortable.
"O-oh? Yeah...rough day. I was wanting to see if you had any job openings left."
Ohdove leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms and looking at him for a moment. She didn't speak for a long time, instead watching him for any reaction to her silence. Once she was satisfied, she clicked her tongue. "What's your best quality?"
In response to the silence, Dion could only feel awkward. Looking down at the teapot, hands interlocked, and his posture curved forward, almost as if he wanted to hide within himself. It was only when Ohdove spoke, so casually that he dared give her a response.
"I'm realistic. Most people say it's my worst quality, but I think it's a gift. I know clearly when things can go wrong, and my limits as well."
Ohdove tilted her head to the side. "So your best quality is to give up before everyone else? You know when things are going wrong, and you won't push your limits?" She stood, hands on the table. "So what you're telling me is that... you're a sensor for danger, and you run away." She grabbed a freshly sharpened shaving razor from the counter, turning back to him. "You want to work for me, admitting already you know when to give up?"
“W-when you put it that way…it sounds so bad y’know?” Dion held on to his cup with both hands, feeling its warmth go in through his pores. “Being realistic isn’t a bad thing either, probably means you’d have a long time employee. That can’t be a bad thing can it?”
Ohdove huffed and flicked Dion's forehead firmly. "You're the one who said it. If you think your best quality is your realistic nature, then that's your opinion. My next question is, then..." She looked straight into his eyes. "What is your worst quality?"
Dion's eyes widened slightly at Ohdove's touch, causing him to firmly pay attention to her words. "Probably...that I'm too realistic as well...apparently, or I guess, that I'm a coward..." Dion thought back to Rosanne's words.
Ohdove smiled brightly, sweetly, and giggled. "Fair enough. I can work with that." She stood, throwing a thumb over her head. "Come into the back, Coward. We'll see if your thoughts of yourself are true." She headed into the back, showing off a large open crafting area, where all sorts of mundane materials in raw form were stockpiled. Bars of iron and copper, molds for armor and decorations, and finished products like swords, rope, and baggage lined the walls. Moving over to a large, black-blue anvil, Ohdove picked up a blunt, double-sided hammer, handing it to him. "What can you make with this, Coward? Use whatever you'd like in the room." She grabbed two large leather aprons, tossing the heavy garb to Dion before putting her own on. "I'll help however you'd like me to. Let's get started."
Dion grabbed on to the double-sided hammer, the apron landing on his face as he nearly stumbled and fell towards the ground. Through exaggerated motions, he managed to put on the apron, taking a time to observe the hammer properly. Honestly, he'd never use a weapon before, he had no need to. His eyes moved around the room, falling over Ohdove several times, as they narrowed slightly. "I-I'm not really good at building things...as far as I know, honestly...what's the point of this anyways?"
Ohdove tied her apron on, turning back to him. "I'm a Qualitysmith. I make good things." She turned back towards him and poked him in the nose. "And I take materials and make them better. Think of this as your application exam, Coward. Like how Magic Knights have their entrance exams. I need to see what raw material I'm working with in you, and how I can bring out the best of you." She quirked an eyebrow. "You've never made anything? Fair enough, I'll lead you through it then. What should we make then, hmm?" She looked Dion over. "What do you think, Catboy?"
"Can you stop calling me names? It's degrading. It's Dion. D-i-o-n, alright?" Dion said, almost sighing as he did. "We have to make something then....I'll play along, I guess." He spoke out loud, eyes still moving across the room, however they repeatedly fell over one object. The hammer that he held. Though it seemed to be in perfect condition. Strike after strike had colored its steel black.
"First thing's first..." He held the hammer by its handle on one hand, placing his other palm next to it. A light blue coloration filled his hand, mana manifesting through it. Within instants, the entirety of the hammer was coated in bubbles, bubbles that washed away whatever dirt the hammer held. “Alright, alright…, how about we make like…I-I don’t know. A mace or something, what’s easiest to make?”
Ohdove's entire attitude changed when the bubbles coated the hammer. Her eyes widened and a broad smile crossed her face. "Wow... magic, real magic. Some kind of... water incantation?" She pressed against Dion, looking at the hammer. "Wow, coward... No, no. CowarDion. Where'd you learn to do that? Are you a Magic Knight?"
Dion blushed at Ohdove's approach, he knew by now it was probably impossible for Ohdove's nicknaming scheme to stop. "I learned it at my previous job...while I was washing dishes, as per usual...and no, I'm not a Magic Knight. I wanted to become one but...it doesn't seem like it's the path for me."
Ohdove leaned back and tilted her head. She stopped and listened quietly before tapping her chin. "So... you don't want to become a Magic Knight. Is that what you're saying?" She was VERY interested in his response, leaning forward and eagerly awaiting his answer. Her dark skin and pale lips were very close to his face.
"No, no, I want to, I definitely do. But am I supposed to be one? Probably not." Dion responded, leaning back as Ohdove approached him.
Ohdove suddenly kicked the table over and away from Dion. The razor she had picked up from the bar flickered into her fingers. Her aura changed to a feeling of aggressive, almost angry fury. "Supposed to be one?" The grinding of her teeth could be heard, and the fury of anime glory filled her eyes. "SUPPOSED TO BE!? WHO SAYS WHO IS SUPPOSED TO BE WHAT?! Fate has no bearing on my anvil, and fate has no bearing on your future! Get up, Cowardion. Pick up that hammer or I'm going to shave your head bald." Her grin was maliciously malcontent, the quality razor in her hand sharp and ready.
"W-WHAT THE FUCK?!" DIon responded as Ohdove suddenly kicked the table. Eyes moved to the razor and the crazed look she had on her face. Immediately, he held on to the hammer, back straightened and lips sealed tight. "D-don't shave my head! My hair's the only thing keeping me above average lady, if I lose my hair, my future will be compromised!"
Ohdove giggled and flicked the razor a little, moving closer and closer to Dion. "Ohhh, Cowardion, your future is already compromised. You decided to let FATE, the dumbest thing imaginable, run your life. I'm gonna knock that bad quality out of you. You're a cute guy, but there's no crybaby weakness in here." She lunged, swinging the razor at his spiky hair. "Cowardion, are you going to run away?"
Dion stood completely still, eyes closed as her razor approached him. "I-It's not just fate, it's the fact that I am myself. How can I stand on the same stage as people who've worked thrice as hard as me, whose goals are noble, and whose aspirations are high?!"
Ohdove stopped the razor at his hair, smiling. "Who said anything about standing on the same page as other people?" She closed the razor as swiftly as she opened it. "You didn't run away from the razor. Not everyone would stand so firm on that. You stand on your own page, you write your own story." She gripped his face gently, staring at him in the eyes. "We write our own fates. You set your own goal. You set your own aspirations. Who cares how high someone else's hopes are? Are you afraid of failing, of being rejected by the knights, Cowardion?"
Even that close, Dion could not maintain eye contact with Ohdove, his face reddened near instantly, still appearing somewhat dejected. "Y-yes...n-no? I don't know...maybe that's why I'm here. I want to become a Magic Knight, I do. But only out of selfishness."
Ohdove kept her grip firm. "You can't work here. There. Now, you've tasted rejection. Did it kill you? Did it make you weaker? No. Now what will you do? Head into the darkness of night and cry?" She softened her grip slightly. "Who cares if your desires are selfish? Selfishness makes us hungry, makes us move forward. Be selfish. Get what YOU want. Because you won't find what you want here, only what you need."
Dion's eyes widened, everything Ohdove said being taken fully in. "Would you laugh, lady? If I told you all I want is a simple, trouble-free life, with as many material riches as far as the eye can see?! Does that make me less of a Magic Knight?!"
Ohdove grinned broadly. "Sounds like the life of a hungry person. Simple is good. Keeping it ♪simple and clean♫ means that your life in uncomplicated. The only thing that makes you less of a Knight..." She kissed the tip of his nose gently. "Is that you're not a Knight, Cowardion."
Dion stumbled backwards, tripping over his own foot and falling unto the ground. "Damn...my ass...Y-you're right..." He said, hand over the back of his neck. "I'll prove her wrong then. Rosanne Vermillion..." Dion clenched his fist.
Ohdove pointed towards the door. "Take the hammer, you'll need something in the tests. This shop isn't for you to work in. Come back when you're worthy of a new nickname. Until then, I have work to do." She turned her eyes away from him and went back to the front counter as swiftly as she left it.
“Y-you sure…err…what’s your name lady?” Dion said still holding on to the hammer. “Your shop’s a mess, I’m sure you could use some cleaning.” He continued, nudging at a mop on a corner.
Ohdove went back to sharpening the razor, looking at him before looking at the damage and destruction she caused. Her hair shot up and her eyes went wide. "OHHHHHH!!!!! Look at this mess! I overreacted again, damn." She rubbed the back of her head sheepishly, laughing awkwardly. "Hehe... maybe just a touch of help to pick up the shop. Thanks, Cowardion." She grabbed a broom. "My name is Ohdove. Stop calling me Lady, I bet I'm only a few years older than you."
“Alright, Ohdove.” Dion grinned, grabbing the very mop he had pointed at. Surprisingly, he seemed comfortable with it, twirling it around himself with a single hand, while the other held on to the hammer. “I’ll help you here and now so that we’re even!”
Ohdove watched him twirl the mop around. "Second thoughts, gimme." She took the hammer back from him. "Twirl that mop again. Show me what you can really do with it. Hup hop. Quick as a bunny, now."
“Y-you want to watch me clean?” There came no response. “A-alright, weirdo…” Mana poured once more from his hands, reaching the ends of the mop as it became covered in soap and bubbles. Dion moved around the room with finesse, the mop acting as an extension of him, as, at Ohdove’s request, he twirled it around himself once more.
Ohdove giggled and clapped. "That was worth the price of admission." She scowled and picked up a chair, almost throwing it. "I'm not a weirdo!" Calming down, she sat on the chair instead. "Have you ever thought about using a Mop instead of a mace? You showed an affinity for the heavy-handed approach. A mop is just a long mace when water is added." She held her hand out. "Give me the mop for a second."
“A-alright…” Dion said, still shocked by how eccentric she was. He handed her the mop, wondering what exactly she would do with it.
Ohdove held the mop out, focusing. A trickle of mana could be felt as her magic invaded the tool. The long, wooden handle became hardened and dark brown, like a length of Mahogany that had been treated and carved with care. The lengths of twisted fibers for the mop became tight, silky, absorbent and shockingly strong. Every piece of the mop shimmered for a moment before Ohdove stopped, slumping against the back of her chair. "Phew, not a full day's worth, but nearly. Now try it."
Dion grabbed on to the mop, immediately feeling the changes that went through it. He could tell it was tougher, stronger, perhaps even lighter. He swung it downwards, the air whistling softly in response. “Heh, a mop as a weapon…how interesting is that….” Dion smiled, looking at Ohdove. “I’m guessing this is your magic, huh? Guess I’m not the only one that could become a Magic Knight.”
Ohdove shook her head and glared at him, that wild animal feeling coming back again. "We're not here to talk about me." The friendliness returned. "Well, it's no masterpiece, but that should work. It's certainly interesting, and no use to me. So go ahead. It's yours." She gestured.
“T-thanks!” Dion said enthusiastically. “I should be on my way then, tomorrow’s the big day and all.” He headed towards the entrance. “Next time we meet Ohdove, we’ll talk about you.”
Ohdove waved and smiled brightly. "Oh no we won't! Good luck, I'll be watching the trials so make sure to give me a good show!"