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[closeyourfist]

"The likes of you stand to benefit from the likes of me."

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[commandope]

"Okay, so what are we talking here? Nerve translators or power conduits?" she asks, picking up a screwdriver and with surprising delicacy nudges a wire aside to get a better look at the metaphorical guts of it.

[closeyourfist]

"Both. Trying to perfect a design that will save a little more space and evince a more natural weight." Not impossible, he is not reinventing the wheel, just figuring it out on his own.

Though for the moment he is starting to eye her like a stranger just came up and started eating off his plate.

[commandope]

"How much does an arm weigh, anyway, a couple pounds?" She withdraws the screwdriver to look at Gortash. "Wait, do you even use pounds? Am I gonna have to learn another measuring system?"

[closeyourfist]

"It depends upon the individual in need of the prosthetic, where the limb was cut off, and other factors." He returns to his examinations and notes. "...I know the conversions."

[commandope]

"Ohhh, so we're talking template," she says brightly. "Some shit you can customise for whatever limb bullshit people need."

She flips the screwdriver and pokes his shoulder with the handle. "You do this sort of thing a lot back home?"

[closeyourfist]

A sidelong glance when his shoulder is lightly prodded.

"My expertise at home centers on armor and weapons mostly, but our work intermixes magic, which I am not permitted to use here." So he has made it his business to learn a lot of new tech very quickly. Never let imposed limitations stop you from being the best at what you do.

[commandope]

"Oh, magic, no shit?" She looks delighted. "Is it like, god-related, or alchemy, or some of the stupid 'looks really fucking cool but a big middle finger to the laws of physics' sort of stuff?"

[closeyourfist]

He doesn't really know what to do with that energy, so he'd sooner just ignore it. "...Those can all be options, though articicers rarely have need to learn prestidigitation unless they're bad at what they do. I'm not an alchemist personally, though some are."

[commandope]

"So you're an artificer? So that's like- an old timey magic engineer?"

She hops off the bench to stand next to him, poking the wires again. "That's really cool, you know? 'Cos sometimes it feels like people think magic and science just do not get along, but when you've got like rules and shit to explain what you're doing they're basically the same thing."

[closeyourfist]

An even glance, but some of the tension in his stance seems to be seeping out as he grows more accustomed to her presence and cadence. "They're really not, but there are places where the two can meet."

[commandope]

"So you're not normally an artificer," she concludes readily. "So you're a what, wizard or something? What kind of magic do you actually do that doesn't have to do with prosthetics?"

[closeyourfist]

And then it's back. "If I were not an artificer, I would not have used the word."

[commandope]

"Well fuck me for not trying to make assumptions 'cos you didn't give me a clear goddamn yes or no," she grumbles, folding her arms. "Words mean things and I don't wanna be that kind of asshole."

[closeyourfist]

"I said artificer before you did," he returns evenly. "It is not my job to make certain you're keeping up." He closes his notebook with a snap. "Are we finished or did you need something else?"