He should finish. I'll probably post a RO of him working on it (just to crap out more words xD). We could have the thread around the start of february (aka around like Feb 4ish) to give her it?
Strel gave her a curt nod, tapping long fingers on the table as he thought about the project under his nose. It was not an easy project, but it wasn't the hardest. The most difficult task he had been asked to undertake was where a man from Cercatori D'Arte had come to ask for a tuxedo for a wedding. It had been hard, and then the man had run out on his wedding, and the tuxedo. Strel still had the half-finished garment in his storage room, though it was gathering dust for lack of use. He didn't need it and no one else had so far been crazy enough to request something like that. If anyone did, though, he had one ready to go. Though, most would definitely require a tailoring session, or two, and a lot of cutting just to get it to fit. Shawchert had been a tall man and rather broad, taller than most Strelein had seen in his lifetime. Hopefully no one bigger came along. The redhead could almost shudder at the thought of a man taller and broader than Shawchert, who already towered over the Dauphin -- he wasn't even that short of a man, over seven feet as he was.
"It shouldn't take that long. It's just sewing on pockets and decoration," he said quietly, wondering why Caspa preferred to maintain a business facade with him. He was not that offensive, right? Regardless, Strel did not and would not press her for it unless it truly started to bother him. Likely as it was to bother him and weigh him down a bit, he knew that he could go elsewhere for consolation on the subject. "Yes, by all means, leave it here. I'll get it done as soon as I can." He waved a hand toward the empty makeshift mannequins with a light flourish, then sighed. "I have little going on, so it won't take too long. Hopefully." He was not yet sure just how much time and effort would have to be spent on the coat. Strel preferred not a lot though if it required most of his time, he would give it. He had promised to work on the coat and work on it he would. He leaned against the table, hand supporting him even as the table creaked in protest. "Make sure to let me know when the show is, though," he added with a light smile.
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