[closed]

[heirring]

WHO: Wysteria + Rusty
WHAT: Shop talk
WHEN: Now-ish (Cloudreach)
WHERE: The Gallows Smithy
NOTES: N/A

[There is always scrap metal to be had in Riftwatch's armory and presently, she finds she has the need for it. There is no getting around the necessity of finer material - she needs copper, and zinc, and neither of those are to be found in the bucket of cast off bits and pieces for the blacksmith's workshop -, but there is iron and steel aplenty and one should always work cheaply first where it is possible to do so. No sense wasting valuable resources on a theory.

Which is why, right after the midday meal, a young blonde lady in two neat dark skirts and a shockingly clean white shirt is sitting there on a small stool just beyond the hottest part of the workshop. She's wearing a thick pair of leather gloves that go nearly to her elbows and it picking through the scrap metal bin, tossing crooked pieces and pinched off ends into a second, smaller bucket.]

Do you suppose this piece is too small to heat properly? Will it just oxidize to pieces if it's put in the fire?

[This to-- well, the nearest hand to hand. She holds a short length of metal between her thumb and forefinger.]

I need a disk.

Comments

[shirking]

[ Rusty, as the newest hand to hand and one they've already discovered is easily nudged, is volunteered to assist Wysteria by the others who have by now become all too familiar with her presence. He trots over, brushing some ash off his leather apron and straightening the roll of his shirt cuff around his biceps. His brows are already up in anticipation of asking what she needs, but they manage to inch a bit higher at the question. ]

Will it oxiwhat? Oh, a disk? I can try, miss. Seems like it might be enough for a button if that's what you're after.

[heirring]

A button, yes. Only without the button holes. I just need a flat piece... let's say roughly this size. [With her other heavily gloved hand, she makes a crinkly circle.] But the thickness is the important part, I should think. It should be quite thin indeed if that's at all possible.

There is also this piece if that would be easier. [She fishes a longer, comically battered rod from the scrap bucket.]

[shirking]

[ So a button, but with no button-holes, and bigger than a button, and thin. Quite thin. Thinner than a button? Weird, but maybe not actually beyond his abilities. He bobs his head in a polite nod. ]

Alright. I'll try it with the little one first so we don't waste. [ He smiles and holds out a callused palm for her to drop the tiny bit of metal into. ]

What's it for, miss, if you don't mind my asking?

[heirring]

It's a backing plate for an iron ring I have already. [The smaller scrap is dropped into his waiting hand.] Of course, if it works it would need to be welded to the ring properly, but just have the shapes for now would be quite sufficient. I need a model I can pull apart into pieces to see what can or can't be fit into the shape of the container, you see. I'm building something. I'm in the research division.

[Which are not lies. She is building something and she is in research.]

I would be most appreciative.

[shirking]

Oh. Alright. Well it's no trouble. Happy to help. [ He flashes her a friendly smile, but turns back to the forge with a crease between his brows because either what she's said was no real answer at all or he's just not following, and since she's in The Research Division, Rusty concludes it must be the latter.

He gets right to it, the heating and hammering and such, and after a few minutes uses the tongs to hold up a disk roughly the size she indicated and about the thickness of a coin. ]

Will this do, miss?

[heirring]

[From where she is still religiously sorting scrap, Wysteria lifts her attention to meet him - or rather, to direct a very serious study to the piece of metal in question. After some humming and hawwing over the diameter, she at last decides--]

Yes, sir. I believe that will do quite nicely. Cool it off and I will put it in my pocket here when I go.

[Wysteria motions good-naturedly to what must be a pocket in her skirts with her elbow in an effort to avoid getting whatever manner of black stuff lurks on the scrap and the gloves and on everything in the shop on her clothes.]