Corin Visits LongTech Industries - RPLOG

From Rusted Promises
Jump to: navigation, search

Participants

Date

13/7/480

Log



Corin enters the store, wearing a pair of goggles with smoked glass lenses strapped around his forehead, and there's a fair amount of soot on his face, generally in paw-shaped blotches. A small strip of purely clean space surrounds his eyes, and there's a second strip of clean fur on his muzzle, upon which sits his pince-nez. The moment he enters, despite carrying a CLEARLY very heavy sack of something-or-other, he immediately loses his attention amidst the various display models of well crafted thingamabobs and whatchamajigs. Attention span, thy name is most certainly not Corin.

Flora definitely isn't in the store right now, although Corin is quickly greeted by one of the clerks, wearing a big, friendly smile on his face, as he gestures around. "Welcome, sir. Anything in particular you are looking for? A picture taken? A pen? A thermometer? We -do- have some experimental models for furnaces, although we can't guarantee they'll be quite as accurate as our standard models.

"Oh, I'd love to see all o-" he starts, shifting the sack on his back when he straightens up and winces. Apparently SOMETHING in there poked him through about three layers of cloth, "-I mean, I'm here to see miss Flora, I have some parts she requested, is she in?" He hefts the sack gingerly, and further wincing implies that whatever got him is stuck in pretty good.

A small nod, a shake of the head. "She's not in the store, at least. I can send someone to check the Manor, although I can promise nothing. Though, if you have an appointment, I'd recomment the gates, rather than the store," he offers, before gesturing to someone behind the counter with a few signs. Definitely not standard sign-language, must be some LongTech shorthand.

"Anything we can do for you for the time being?"

Corin adjusts the sack on his back again, with some effort separating it from his back and setting it on the ground. Corin rubs his back ruefully, "In the meantime, um... I believe you mentioned furnace thermometers?" he says, his face brightening now that he's not being stabbed in the back, "I'd love to see and possibly price one!"

"Keep in mind, they're still prototypes. They work, but they aren't suited for every forge. Right now, they work best with easy to melt metals... Particularly because you don't want them to melt, themselves," the wolf-lad offers as he guides Corin to the corner where the different thermometers are stalled out.

Corin scratches his head, "Well, that'd certainly do for some of my casting metals, but I primarily deal in uh... Steel. But I'll take a look. I don't always MELT the metal, after all. Shaping is a big part of my job..." he gives the hammer that's almost always jammed through his belt a pat, "It certainly doesn't hurt to take a look."

There are plenty of thermometers on display. Big ones, small ones. Some of them longer, others shorter, and yet others showing a different scale of temperatures alltogether. "Meant for beings, meant for cooking, and meant for metalwork. We are NOT responsible if you go beyond the scale. They will likely stop working, permanently," the wolf offers with a small smile.

Corin peers at one of the smaller ones, and tilts his head to one side inquisitively, "I wonder how hot my forge actually gets. Coke burns pretty hot, after all... Hrm." He straightens up, "I think if you ever managed to get one, it would make things a lot easier. Right now, it's down to colors, feelings, and experience." Corin rubs the back of his head ruefully, "Mangled a lot of metal before I learned the combinations of things. Trial and error is a fickle mistress..."

"That's the Lady's idea, yes. Nothing beats experience, but concrete knowledge of things like these are quite valuable while gaining said experience," the wolf offers with a smile on his lips, before gesturing at the longer ones. "These're probably more your speed. You don't want to stick the most sensitive part of the thermometer directly into the furnace, because it might damage the thermometer. Although, I admit, the Lady can probably advise you better, once she shows up.

"I wouldn't stick anything into a furnace that I don't particularly want to shape. Things can warp and all that," Corin explains, examining the gestured-to devices, and adjusting his spectacles, "Pity I'm not one of those what can stick his hand in a furnace and come out unscathed, but I think that'd make loss of respect for the heat of the forge a bit easier." He gestures to the longer-probed thermometers with a grun, "How much would one of these lovely devices cost me?"

"A couple of crown. They're not exactly cheap to make, and they do count as an investment, no?" the cat offers, as he points at the various pricetags. The smaller ones and less sensitive ones are definitely cheaper, but they're all sold at a relatively high price. "Highest quality on Promise, though."

Corin reaches into the pockets of his tool-belt, and, with some jangling, comes out with a pair of crown. He looks at them ruefully, then at the thermometer, then back at the coins, and, with a slight bit of hesitation, hands them over to the clerk with a sigh, "It's a one-time expense, I suppose..." he mutters to himself, followed by something almost completely inaudible about the old days.

"Ah. Mister Corin. You should know, LongTech offers some discounts to employees," Flora sounds from behind, a flick of the ears. "Care to follow along with Flora, then? Flora believes mister Corin wants to show Flora something?" she offers, as she gestures to a small door behind the counter, leading into the manor-grounds proper.

Corin grabs the sack of parts he put down earlier and hefts it over his shoulder with a grunt, "Right you are, miss Flora." he says with a wide grin that stiffens considerably as he once again stabs himself in the back with something in there.

The walk to the manor is relatively uneventful, with Flora occasionally asking a question or two. It's clear LongTech isn't a small operation, though, once the two are past the front door, and various beings are milling about. "The library is free to use for any beings working for LongTech, so long as they do it on their own time, and notify the guards ahead of time. Flora prefers knowing who's in and who's out."

"There's a small restaurant with reasonable prices, any purchases are taken directly from pay," she offers as she gestures at various rooms, before moving on to the sizable courtyard at the center of the building.

Corin nods lightly, taking in the sights, seeming slightly flabbergasted at the sheer scope of everything here, "It's... Certainly... Impressive, miss Flora..." is all he seems capable of stammering out at the moment, "Way beyond what I thought...." he adds, apparently unthinking as to any negative connotations that statement might have.

"Flora is quite hapy with it, yes," the she-cat offers, tails flicking behind her. "So. Mister Corin has finished with the order?" she offers with a smile on her lips, as she gestures at a small, comfortable-looking alcove in the courtyard, her own personal spot.

Corin pulls on his gloves before pulling out a large, hand-crafted gear, first cast, then filed down to exacting measurements, "This one took me the longest, miss Flora. I hope it meets your requirements. I made sure to balance it on the exact center to keep it from having problems with... Well... Balance... The gearshaft is in here too... Along with a bunch of other parts." He offers the probably five-to-ten pound gear with pointy, pointy teeth to Flora. Because smart.

A smile, a rumble, and Flora takes the various gears in hand, as well as the various other parts. "Which parts would mister Corin say took the most effort after that, and why?" the she-cat offers, examining the parts from every angle. A very thorough inspection of sorts, certainly.

Corin scratches his chin briefly, "After that? The springs you requested were rather a pain, but that's more because they take quite a while to coil, and you have to do it while it's still hot... The rest were just a matter of casting and filing. Luckily I've a very good file... It was a pain to make, but worth it." he reaches into his waistcoat and, from some interior pocket, pulls a foot-long steel file with a tapering blade, "Um... Oh, and the gearshafts required about the same amount of tempering and annealing as the average sword..." He gesticulates vaguely with the file-hand, "Strong enough to take a beating, flexible enough to spring back into position from a small knock...."

"Now, more importantly. Is this something mister Corin can see himself doing long-term? Or would mister Corin prefer more... Traditional metalwork?" the she-cat offers, a raised brow as she looks over the various parts, taking a particular interest in the thinest metal rods and parts, smiling faintly.

"Hrm... So long as I have time for some side-projects, I see no trouble with doing this full-time... I like to supply the militia when I find the time, amongst... Other things, I do." Corin says, nervously adjusting his spectacles, "I don't imagine this will be a daily order, no?"

"These were simple requests to test mister Corin's abilities. While there won't be an order eveery day, they will be more specialized. Flora also expects confidentiality with regards to Flora's designs," the she-cat offers with a smile on her lips, a flick of the ears. "Mister Corin's job would be to make small batches of specialized tools or parts, which Flora assumes will certainly take up the most of mister Corin's time."

Corin smiles softly, tapping his muzzle with his fingertip, "You may be surprised, actually..." He gives Flora a small smile, "I have been at this for about... Gosh... Since I was thirteen. So two years!" Corin says chipperly, a giant grin plastered on his face, "So you know, I have lots of experience!"

"And this took as much effort as a sword. That one took even longer. Expect more tasks of that caliber, yes," the she-cat offers with a smile on her lips, a flick of the ears. "Experience is good, but Flora expects mister Corin to keep learning if he aims to be LongTech material, yes," she offers, as she pulls out a contract of sorts. "Flora suggests mister Corin reads it over a few times, and gets back to Flora later.

Corin smiles and says, "I was lying by the way. I'm almost thirty now." Corin says with a grin, taking the contract and pushing down his glasses, to scan over the paper, "I have about fifteen years of experience. Still, I'll get back to you... At the very least, if you need anything, I'd be glad to work on a more mercenary basis regardless..." he folds the contract, and places it, along with the file, in separate pockets of his waistcoat, "Thanks for giving me the time and the chance, miss Flora!" he says, before looking around for the exit.