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[hr][h1][color=598527]Platz Grün[/color][/h1]
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[@banjoanjo]
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The talking among the weapons artificers and frauds alike was enlightening on many fronts. The amount of fakes and cheap "fancy" weapons was depressing, while the presence of skilled craftsman a relief to said depressing trend. Of course, his normal discussions and talk with merchants was interrupted by a collision, some young girl who seemed oddly familiar, for some reason. Did she match some vague description given during the discussion on reserve members? Maybe, she looked like someone fitting such a position. Luckily for interpersonal relations, however, he did not overtly say this, instead nodding slightly when she mentioned the unique mechanism on his rifle. She chose a good topic, he was proud of his rifle. He had added his own work to it, as each generation of his family did, and he had focused on retooling the reloading mechanism that had, woefully, become outdated. [color=a36209]"Your interest is appreciated, she is an old family heirloom that has seen quite a bit of work. Used to operate on a bolt action, but having to reset aim after every shot was inefficient at best. So its hybridized with a two stage lever action mechanism, the bolt moved forward to not poke the user's eye out when actuated. First stage, unlocks the bolt, second, draws it back to eject the round, conventional or Dust. Levers forward smoothly, drawing the bolt forward to bring the next round into place. Stiff action, due to the multiple stages, but more effective than a bolt or lever alone. And that's just scratching the surface of her intricacies."[/color]

While the young woman was clearly giving his rifle and, by extension, Platz another look over, he gave her a more subtle scan. A bit shorter than him, dressed fairly well, perhaps middle to upper instead of high nobility. Pleasant enough tone of voice, polite if distracted, a bit inexperienced with dealing with others. Sheltered life, perhaps? Platz payed it little mind, social graces were, not surprisingly, not a strong suit of the soldiers and mustang officers, as in those from enlisted or low birth, although the company of the precise opposite stock of officer, blue bloods born into their commissions, effectively, also equipped him for operating in those circles as well. Her comment on building something like that would have elicited a good natured smile if not for the second half of the statement, a rare, brief moment of dark displeasure flashing across his face before the smooth, almost unnatural calm reasserted itself. His tone was slightly colder, the only indication of her misstep in communication, and a subtle one at that. [color=a36209]"They wouldn't know, the [i]gentlemen[/i] in charge of the Entrance Exam decided that I was a better fit for Reserves, spare parts, than an actual team."[/color]

Platz had his hands resting with his thumbs hooked into his pockets, a resting position that left the rifle, no doubt to the chagrin of the young lady, much less visible. However, he supposed introductions were in order if they were to continue conversing. Despite her rude comment, she could hardly be held accountable for such a thing. Ignorance was not a crime when it was not by choice, after all. Merely pitiable. He offered his hand in shake, revealing the calluses of long hours working machinery and the steadiness required for fine detailing, a rare combination of traits for most conventional weapons designers. They did one, mass production or custom work, but rarely both. His rifle Timekeeper, she required a special hand, some parts needing a heavy hand while others, the optics notably, requiring a clock smith's steady, unwavering hand. [color=a36209]"But I apologize, where are my manners? Platz Grün, scion of Grün Custom Works. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance."[/color] Most weapon aficionados recognized Grün Custom Works, at least ones with an eye for Atlesian weapons. Timekeeper was an oddity, of course, but she was the background for their work. 

Platz could not readily place why she seemed recognizable. Was it because of being possibly another member of the Reserves? In that case, he would have to take a look at her weapon post haste. He would not have shoddy, second rate weapons backing him up, not when he could apply his family trade for fine tuning. Even if he didn't overtly get to change anything, tightening and retooling, especially after analyzing how they used their gear, could vastly improve performance. His own Timekeeper was unwieldy and hard to use after first receiving it, after all, a contributing factor to his Exam performance, and a dangerous one at that. Improvements and alterations had been made, but the damage was done already. Platz did try not to loose himself in thought as to not readily miss anything said, which would have been quite rude of the young man. She had given no reason to be rude, not yet, so he would not act like that. There were tournaments, from what he heard, perhaps if he found more of these Reserves, he could whip them into some semblance of fighting shape. No, he decided, they would tag along of their own volition, or not. He was not leader, far from it, he had no interest in holding a group to his standards. [color=a36209]"As for constructing your own masterpiece, ma'am, each designer has their own flair. Their own strong points, and weak points. Take ideas and inspiration, maybe, but never lose your own design vision. Once lost, the weapon is not truly yours anymore, it merely is another nameless weapon."[/color]