Tarn (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sparkwhisperer) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
robothell2015-12-27 09:59 pm
sparkwhisperer) wrote in robothell2015-12-27 09:59 pm
(no subject)
Who: Tarn and Spinister
What: life is bad
When: sometime
Where: The wastes
Warnings: none
The wind howls through the skeleton of their meager shelter, bringing with it thick clouds of soot. Unfortunately, dust storms were more frequent out here in the middle of nowhere than Tarn had hoped. The vast expanse of the wastes left little to prevent the cloud from building on itself.
As it stands, the state of their dwelling is… unsustainable to say the very least. Tarn has begun to lose count of the amount of times that he’s woken up from recharge and had to chase after supplies that had been caught in the wind. However, shelters in the wastes are far and few between, and he finds himself hesitant to move further away from the city and its supplies. His occasional sneaking trips into the city outskirts have yielded just enough to make the risk work it.
Tarn pulls a tarp tighter around his body in a futile attempt to keep his vents from clogging. in truth its more for show than anything; his entire frame, from the top of his head to his feet, is covered in a thick layer of sand and dirt. He can do little but wait for the storm to pass and wait for Spinister’s return in hopes that he has been able to dig up something of use.
What: life is bad
When: sometime
Where: The wastes
Warnings: none
The wind howls through the skeleton of their meager shelter, bringing with it thick clouds of soot. Unfortunately, dust storms were more frequent out here in the middle of nowhere than Tarn had hoped. The vast expanse of the wastes left little to prevent the cloud from building on itself.
As it stands, the state of their dwelling is… unsustainable to say the very least. Tarn has begun to lose count of the amount of times that he’s woken up from recharge and had to chase after supplies that had been caught in the wind. However, shelters in the wastes are far and few between, and he finds himself hesitant to move further away from the city and its supplies. His occasional sneaking trips into the city outskirts have yielded just enough to make the risk work it.
Tarn pulls a tarp tighter around his body in a futile attempt to keep his vents from clogging. in truth its more for show than anything; his entire frame, from the top of his head to his feet, is covered in a thick layer of sand and dirt. He can do little but wait for the storm to pass and wait for Spinister’s return in hopes that he has been able to dig up something of use.
no subject
Dipping his rag in the warm cleanser, he goes right for the rotor hub, wiping away a stray smear of grease near the blade root before setting in to do a deep clean.
should we head for wrap soon?
Yep. That's a helicopter pudding, alright. Or a puddle might be more apt at this rate.
Spinister is shamelessly arching into the attention like a well-stroked cybercat, his rotor twitching in pleasure. He's going to fall asleep at this rate and then Tarn is going to be stuck under him for a good couple of hours.
sounds good to me!
There are worse things, he supposes, than having to sit in front of a fire with a warm heli-frame curled against him.
At lease they'll be clean.