It was true, she was always full of energy, even now though she held it in check. It wasn't how he prefered her to be. He was jaded though believing that weapons were most beautiful when they were unbound. "Special, are you talking about a gift for someone?" His wheat colored eyes narrowed a bit at her reading something more. Shaking his head without realizing it, Kruger took a deep breath. She seemed nervous, though he could be reading her wrong. He doubted that it was being here that would make her that way, or not exactly that. "No, that she could get anywhere" you're right." His thoughts often came out verbally here, time alone and who would complain" Certainly not the smith who just wanted to hear a voice from time to time.

Releasing her from his scrutiny, Kruger moved away, pulling the apron off and hanging it from a hook. The shirt on the next hook over was quickly slid over his head. "You don't like to reveal much about yourself. I'll keep what you tell me to myself, won't ask too many questions." He kept his back towards her as he spoke, wanting more than anything to see her as herself. All he had to offer were assurances on the matter. Was she even aware of how involved he'd been with Addie so recently' He couldn't ask those questions, wouldn't because the same promises were often made to others. "We all have secrets Claire, faces that we keep to ourselves for one reason or another."

In his case, she was well inside the place where he kept his mask. He'd been avoiding the venues lately, unable to sustain the persona he took on. Sometimes there were too many demons to drive out with what people expect to see. As he turned he lifted a sketch pad from a bench, took up a pencil in his opposite hand. "Start with what you need, if I have to know more I'll ask questions." Kruger edged his way onto the bench that had once housed the pad and pencil, indicated that she could sit with him if she chose. It would let her see the work as it came from his mind. He shoved a few tools back to give her enough room.

Watching her closely, he honestly couldn't help himself, Kruger looked for signs that she was more at ease. This certainly wouldn't be the first time she'd occupied a place next to him or the last. He also knew that it wouldn't be the first time she'd full out slugged him if she chose to do that too. He took the risk, and kept looking right at her face. Another time and place there would be a grin and a wink. Now he only had determination to offer. "What's the occasion?"

"Are you sure?" She asked, her brows rising. While her need was looming, she knew that should she have to, she could find someone else to complete the project. That said, it wasn't what she wanted to do though, knowing the likelihood of having to micromanage each step of the process would only increase the more unfamiliar she was with someone. Failing to meet his gaze, her own bounced off the walls of the shop. From top to bottom it was neat and organized, perfect for hands accustomed to perpetual motion and the steady catch and release of each tool. It was the sort of organized chaos she could appreciate.

"It's?" she drew the word out as she thought of how to finish, "for me. A just in case sort of thing." The woman had many a weapon in the armory at home but this creation would find no place there. Instead she sought the perfect masterpiece with the intent of locking it away until the day came that it was needed. It was quite the conundrum, not knowing if that day would ever come, but she had a sneaking suspicion that if it did, it would be soon. That nagging feeling contributed to the way she never quite stopped moving, whether it was the shift from foot to foot, the roll of her shoulders, or the subtle tick and purse of her mouth when she wasn't speaking.

His reassurance, as unnecessary as it was, brought something a smile to her lips, a small curve of genuine warmth set against a backdrop of persistent wariness. "I know." She spoke quietly, certain the words would meet his ear regardless. "It's why I came here. It's a project I've kept to myself and I intend to keep it that way. I trust you." It was an admission that seldom passed her lips, due to equal parts inability to put her confidence in many and the feeling that if she voiced such a thing, she set herself up for failure, to have that trust betrayed. But his wording resonated with her, knowing all too well about the cost of the secrets they carried.

It took her a moment but eventually she got her feet moving and went to sit with him, one leg pulled up beneath her. Oblivious to the steady study given by the man beside her, she rummaged in her pockets until she found what she was looking for, a balled up piece of paper that looked like it had been crumpled and smoothed a million times before being tossed in a waste bin then regretfully pulled back out. Uncrumpling it, she ran her fingers over the messy creases until it vaguely resembled a regular piece of paper. Etched in stark black ink that hadn't smudged despite the paper's state were a series of runes, ones not used in Rhydin as far as she knew, outside of her own gunblade and Serah's bowsword, that is.

"It'll be a ceremonial dagger, not meant for everyday use. I'm looking for something both ornamental and at least usable once. It'll need to be sharp, as sharp as possible if you can." Setting the page down, she smoothed it out one more time though there was no discernable change in the state of the wrinkles. "Looking for it to have a bit of a curve to the blade, more for slicing than for stabbing. If that makes sense" I dunno. In the end, how it looks matters little so long as it does what it needs to. And I need an inscription' this, if possible." Two fingers pushed the paper along the bench toward him. Then, and only then, did her gaze lift to meet his, hesitant and hopeful all in one.

Forcing away questions about the things he heard, that hesitation as she began and the fact that it was for her. He'd promised her privacy and he would live up to that. He let his attention fall to the paper she was desperately trying to erase the abuse from. "A diminished Kirpan." Kruger's hand was moving, he'd only needed to see the design once. "Any idea of the materials involved" Lately these special orders come with specific alloys that aren't so easy to come by." He drew an X and Y axis lightly on the page and started to draw an S that intersected the lines, crossed at the zero point and mirrored itself on the bottom of the page. He looked up in time to see her gaze, and nodded.

"I'll put what you want on it Claire, question is do you want it etched or carved. Prefer it on the blade or hidden beneath the hilt?" Kruger dropped his eyes back to the page and continued to sketch the dagger, widening it out at both ends, though the bladed side became much wider. It also became more pointed. The two sides were equal, and yet opposite, one blunt and the other sharpened and wickedly pointed. "You're sure this is for your hand" It matters, even if it might not seem to." He looked closer at the inscription, whatever the language he couldn't quite read it. "Let me know if I have these symbols correct, some languages are very subtle and I could go from saying I love you to I love cows.?

With a quick tick, her attention followed his path with the fairly standard sort of inquisitive curiosity she trended toward showing in situations such as this. Even before he made it back to her, she had lifted a hand, her left, to look it over. She frowned though, evidently troubled by whatever thoughts came to mind as she examined her empty palm. "I'll need it easily used between both hands. I'm fairly ambidextrous, but," she paused to lift her left hand toward him, bare fingers outstretched as requested, "my left's my dominant." Her right hand was open and set to her knee, ready for measurement should he require it, her second hand also bare, though on the ring fingers of both the flesh bore a faint indentation indicating that while she wasn't at the moment, she typically wore jewelry of some sort on both fingers. Her thin hands were calloused and worn with years of use but otherwise free of blemishes or markings save for a thin white scar around her left pinky, almost invisible except in the right light.

"It's a backup plan. But yes, a big one. People" wouldn't understand if I tried to explain so it's best to avoid questioning to begin with." She said softly, notes of sadness lingering in her tone. It wasn't that she liked keeping secrets, just that some were utterly necessary for the show to go on. But she left it at that rather than elaborating. "The pressure is worst upon departure and arrival, the in between isn't so bad. I've found if it can withstand extreme temperatures in either direction, it can usually make it between here and there."

"I trust you, Kruger, whatever you think is best. So long as it's sharp as hell and carries those runes, everything else is just icing on the cake." There was a brief pause before she posed the question that came to mind. "Why's that though' Figured I had enough weapons to invade a small country or something?" Truth be told, she did. So it was a fair guess. Either way, it was a question to fill the silence as she wrapped her hand around the clay and gripped it like she would her own blade handle. Enough to be comfortable yet firm, her grip would sure to leave a fair imprint of her hand.

"I'm not sure I could make it serve two masters the with the same devotion Claire. It'll still be usable in your off hand, but you'll understand when you take it up that it's simply more comfortable in your left. If I were to try and balance it perfectly to both hands, it would have it for neither. Does that make sense" You'll have to rely on your skill to compensate for the change." He laid the mold carefully aside to avoid marring the impression.

"Temperature variations and pressure?" The pencil moved beneath the formula, numbers and replacing letters in certain positions. There would be more to add once the metal was chosen and the hilt components selected. There always seemed like there was more to add. He scrawled down a gravimetric formula as well to remind him to compensate for added pressures. "Diamonds are a product of extreme pressure, most people know that. They also know that diamonds are extremely sharp. What I find interesting is the amount of times I am asked to create a diamond blade. Diamond is quite brittle, one good hit and it will shatter like glass." He paused, brows falling downwards as he licked his lips. "I don't know why I said that Claire, it's got nothing to do with this. When do you need this completed?"

He'd push aside things that weren't quite so important as he needed to. "How would you like to take delivery if this is meant to be secret. I can't just have it delivered, will you be coming back here" I can message you when it's finished." In his head it already was, the details that existed on the paper were enhanced by the work he'd put into the hilt. The only real problem he had now was that she'd be leaving shortly.

"I'm not sure why I thought that Claire, perhaps because I can't conceive of you needing something" anything really." He looked away as he said the words, putting away the tape measure as a way to cover the fact that he couldn't look at her and say those words.

Claire tipped her head to one side, casting an uncertain look down at both of her upturned hands. If she had to choose, she would go with her left, but the careful contemplation ran her gaze up the length of her forearms and back down again. It would work, that much she had to convince herself of. A single nod noted her understanding of his explanation before she looked up once more. The scrawl of numbers may as well have been a foreign language to her, the way they bled across the page meaning little to a mind not meant for math.

"They're only meant to withstand the pressure that made them. Outside of that, they don't know how to spread the burden. Like tungsten" strong if you spread the pressure evenly but one sharp blow and it'll crumble like Rome." She mused, checking her understanding of his poetic waxings. What she failed to show was how the concept hit her deep down. So easy was it to be strong, to withstand pressure, to be as hard as a diamond, but one wrong hit and all of that could come crashing down. "So sure it's got something to do with this. It's also why I don't dictate the metal or other materials. You know them better than I do. All I can do is give you specifics on what I need and let you work your magic."

"Feel free to give me a ring if you need anything along the way or when it's done." Claire took a moment to produce a nondescript business card from a jacket pocket, off white and bearing a few lines of black print. It was held patiently while he worked on clean up, the organization of the room important in the grand scope of things. "I guess I'm a whole bundle of surprises. No, but really, thank you for this, Kruger. It means more than I can express."

Kruger took the card, and slid it into his pocket. "You'll be hearing from me, I'll make this a priority." He didn't discuss compensation, that would come later and it was certain to be another interesting conversation. He was glad she understood, the sentiment had a purpose, even if he wasn't sure what had prompted him to mention it. "If it makes you feel better, you aren't the first to come to me that I never expected. I'm glad that you didn't come in that condition though. The first time One came to me I was afraid she wouldn't survive." How long ago that seemed now, a look of pain crossed his face as he remembered how much agony he'd made her endure to put her right again. "Strange how often I can be wrong about people, they're far too unpredictable." He laughed once, letting a smile push across his face. "I won't let you down.? He'd watch her until she was blocked by the door. The card was pulled out and fastened to the sketch. Kruger eventually followed her path and locked the door to the public. There was much to be done, and never enough time to do it all