[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]

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.]