Calvin felt a lump in his throat, looking about warily as Monokuma wrapped up his speech. He needed time to process, and mostly stood there, quietly thinking. Things were going too fast.
    
    Shona kept her hand on the hilt of her wooden blade. "The bear doctor has yet to kill anyone, so it is impossible to gauge the seriousness of the threat." She told Damiyon. "At this time, all we can do is play it as safely as we can. I encourage everyone to remain in their rooms during the night of carnage. He is a stickler for his rules, and if he can't catch us off guard, there's no one for him to take hostage. Unless, we're not everyone..."  She would not panic, but that didn't mean that the situation carried some urgency with it. She made quick steps towards Calvin. “Sir, I wanted to speak with you earlier...” the knight looked at her surroundings. “Come to my room.” Shona didn't wait for a response. She took Calvin's hand in her gauntlet and started to walk towards her room. Her other hand was already on her E-handbook, prepared to swipe as soon as she got to her room.

    "Shona just wait- Jesus!" Calvin was surprised by Shona's sudden change of manner. Too much information was being thrown at him in too short a time. This Shona was not like the one he had shared drinks a few short hours ago. 
    
    The knight released her "captive" and spun around to look at him. "Time is of the essence, sir." Shona was someone who seemed to let most anything just slide right off of her, but she looked really irritated right now. "Do you have anything to say that can't wait?" She was already sliding her handbook through the card reader. 
    
    "I mean, what the fuck is going on?" He planted his feet, but something about her manner gave him pause. "What about the others? Shouldn't we talking about this shit?" 

     The knight took hold of Calvin's shoulders, not seeming to care who saw her like this. “Calvin, there's something I need you to do, and if we don't meet now, you might not get the chance to do it later.”

        Davis hadn't entered his room yet. He was standing in front of it, totally godsmacked, with his handbook in hand. “What the hell Calvin!? We talked about this!” Calvin, suitably incensed, flipped Davis the bird as he was pulled into the room.
        
        Shona shut the door behind herself. When the door shut, she started to take large breaths. “I'm sorry.” She pulled off a gauntlet and pushed her hair out of her eyes. “I just don't feel comfortable talking in front of the others about this. But I'm a knight, and you're a blacksmith. Possibly the best in the world. I know this sounds desperate, but I need you to make me a weapon for tonight. Possibly armor too.” Shona looked at the ground. “I'm not asking for miracles, I'll take anything over this costume and my wooden sword.”
        
        Calvin winced. What did she know? "I don't know Shona. That's- I couldn't even make anything if I..." Calvin looked down to the ground, biting his lip and clenching his fists. The leather was soft, and conformed easily to his tics. He had wanted to keep the crematorium secret, at least for a while longer. But with the night of carnage coming, and the threats made by Monokuma, Calvin wasn't sure he had much of a choice. He looked up, staring Shona directly in the eyes. "I could - I could maybe make something. Won't be pretty, though." 
        
        The knight smiled. “Good.” She leaned her sword up against the door, scabbard and all. “I don't need a pretty sword. So long as it's balanced correctly, I should have no problem holding it. It does not need to be sharp, not for my enemies anyway.” 
        
        Calvin nodded, raising a finger. "It'll be plenty sharp. Just won't last long." 
        
        Shona continued to unstrap and remove the rest of her upper armor. “I'm sure I don't need to tell you how useless this armor will be in a real fight. I'm not expecting plate mail, and a weapon is your primary responsibility.” When Shona got her breast plate off, she was left wearing a sweat-drenched tank top. It was saturated to the point where you could see her bra. The armored “costume” must not have been very well ventilated. “Alright, I guess you need to take my measurements now for the armor.” 

    Calvin's swallowed, but the lump in his throat didn't seem to dissapear. He had rarely met with actual knights to create armour, and when he had, they usually brought along someone who knew all of the specifics of measurements. The few odd times he had to make something, one of his forgehands had figured out measurements. Calvin nodded trying to slow down the blush that had crept across his cheeks. "I don't think I'll have anything ready for tonight. I'll be lucky to patch together a sword in so little time."He turned his head to the side, scratching the back of his neck.

    The knight sighed. "I was afraid of that, but while you're here I'd still apriciate it if you helped measure me out." She reached into her nightstand and pulled out a string and some scissors. "For some reason there was a sewing kit in my room. It's not quite a tape measure, but I think we can cut the string to my measurements. what do you think?"
    
    Calvin blushed a deep crimson, similar to that of a dying fire. "I- Alright." The string was unconventional, but would have to do. "I'll focus on the br- the breastplate? Should be able to figure out greaves and the like from there." He took the sewing kit from her hand, and took a step closer. "Pardon my uh- Just, lift your arms, and hold it there." Shona did as she was asked without fuss. She was looking straight ahead, unaffected by how close they were to each other. Calvin placed the edge of a line of string just below her arm, and pulled it lightly across her chest. He snipped the line, and laid it carefully on her bedside table. "I gotta ask, what do you think you're gonna be able to do with a poor sword? I- I'm not in doubt of your abilities, I've seen videos of you, and I know you're not going after one of us, but. That doesn't leave many options." He continued to measure as they spoke.

    “Calvin, this world is filled with dualities. Men and woman, black and white, hard and soft, sharp and dull, hope and despair, there simply is no end to it. Some would tell you that each duality is a coin with two sides, and so both sides are united... But I don't believe that.” Shona turned her head to look at Calvin. “The duality that I have always been most interested in is that of creator and destroyer. One who spreads creation and one who spreads carnage. I have yet to meet anyone who has been both.” Shona lowered her arms so that the blacksmith could measure her shoulders. “I mean look at us. We're both relics of a by gone era. But our function in it is different. You create weapons, but I'm the one who uses them. Who else is going to protect us during the night of carnage if not me?” 
    
    Calvin bit his lip, snipping another piece of thread and mentally making a note of what colour lined up with what part of her body. By now, there was over a dozen pieces, all laid purposefully on the table. "Jesus, Shona." Calvin had expected many things of the Infinite Knight, but certainly not this. "We're not relics, alright? Whatever is happening is proof of that, okay?" Calvin's voice raised. "Everyone is going to question that, but the moment we're through is when we start doing the same." He was talking just as much to himself as to the Infinite Knight. "Those... things are bad news. Don't know much about all of their circuits and shit, but they're made of good metal." He let this comment hang. "I'm going to just get a quick idea of a helmet. Only doing a half helm, I think- a full visor would just get in the way." Despite their situation, it felt good to be thinking about armor and weapons and his forge, rather than whatever was coming tonight.

    Shona curled her lips into her mouth. She waited for Calvin to make eye contact with her again before speaking. “You know I've killed before, right?” The knight's breathing changed. “Not just once, lots of people. I'm probably the only person here with that kind of experience. Only a destroyer can make decisive blows against their opponent.”
    
    Calvin's breath caught. It wasn't the fact she had killed, Calvin could accept that. It was the way she spoke of it. Like that was all she was. A 'destroyer', to use her own terminology. Still, Calvin didn't know here well enough to put any sort of defence that wouldn't sound artifical. He merely nodded, wiping his brow of the sweat that had collected there. "Look. All I'm saying is, you won't last long if you hold yourself accountable for everyone's safety. We're all going to have to help each other out." He snipped the last piece of thread, laying it on the table. There were several dozen all laid out, a framework made of string for a suit of armour made of steel.
    
    “I'm not suicidal, Calvin.” She sighed. “But we need to be ready for everything. And for that, we need to use our talents to the best of our abilities. For you, that's making weapons. For me, it's using them.” She smiled. “Besides, aren't we kind of helping each other out now?” With another sigh, her smile faded. “Thanks for not asking me about the people I killed. In turn, I won't ask how you how you plan on making all of this for me.” The knight gathered all the string and draped it over Calvin's arm. “Some things should remain a secret, shouldn't they?” Shona opened the door and gently pushed Calvin out of it. “Return when you are ready.” was all she said before shutting the door behind him.

        “Not ready, huh?” Davis looked especially deranged, eyes locked with the startled blacksmith. “Guess she's looking for a man with a few more years on him, you CUNT!” Perfection opened his room up with an aggressive swipe of his handbook before walking inside.
        
        "Fuck you, Davis!" Calvin was on edge, and almost charged the man before he entered his room. He sighed, turning back to Shona's door. What was she thinking? He could see her preparing mentally, much like he did when he was working on something that needed to be perfect. Unfortunately, he had no time for that. Muttering a few words, he ducked into his room, grabbed his set of poor smithy tools, and immediately popped out, headed to his forge.

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