The Painted Ladies| Early Evening
37 ROALIS 2720
For someone who was normally organised in the matters of time, Gale was instead running late. A delivery failed to arrive on time, meaning the smith was unable to begin putting away their materials; which pushed back the time to begin work, which then by extension meant a collection of their other plans were roughly shoved aside. By the time the evening bell rang, Gale was scrambling onto the Steel Horse; dishevelled, covered in the sweat and grime of the forge with their shirt collar sticking out at an angle.
On any other occasion, it would have been a pleasant evening in the city. The breeze was nice from the back of the Steel Horse this Roalis; wind in their hair, eyes protected by goggles while wheels passed through puddles. Their toolbox rattled upon the back of the machine, lashed in place on a welded on the parcel shelf, the comforting clicking of the fire pistons as they wound their way through the soot district. They still jostled, but the early days where the machine shook their bones has considerably eased off with further practice and experimentation. There was a small spray of water, Gale's shins soaked within the wave - but the Smith paid it little mind. It was a cool respite against the sweat that clung to them.
Drink, they needed a drink - and the inside of their water flask was running on empty.
Curse this Probation.
Slowing down, the brakes squeaking as they stopped outside a familiar home. They were late, the streaks of colour chasing their way across the blue sky, the few lanterns in the process of being lit. They chained the Steel Horse to a lamppost, pausing to take a swig from their flask only to find it empty.
"Fuck." Gale grimaced.
Claiming their toolbox, they strode up to the front door before giving it an awkward knock. It was awkward; half a rap of knuckles, with the other half being a louder, heavier knock, and finishing with a much more timid tap of noise. They stood on the spot for a moment, finger tugging at the collar of their shirt. The skin was slightly flushed beneath, and a horrible tacky taste clung to the inside of their mouth. It had been a long few days, balancing three different personalities that all required attention and trying to maintain some semblance of order. The days had become long, with the nights becoming even longer. There were moments where they were trapped, staring up at the ceiling in contemplation over what they had done, and how damned stupid it was for them to step up.
But someone had to do it, and if it was Wisp then what would she drag them all into?
Tapping the breast pocket of their waistcoat they remembered their cigarette case - an alternative respite that would have to do. Outside on the doorstep, they lit one up, the off-caramel scent of the tobacco lingering on their breath. Some mixed blend; they took a deep drag as they waited outside for a moment longer, and knocked another awkward knock.
"Aggie, it's Gale. Are you home?"
Their eyes swept around the door; maybe something had happened? Maybe the old woman had fallen over and was stuck? Hit her head on the way down-
Bullshit. That woman is terrifying and far too stubborn to go out that way.
Gale flicked the ash at the end of their cigarette. Maybe it was because they were late, perhaps she had gone out for the afternoon and Gale had missed her? It was possible, and the Smith did say she would be around in the afternoon-
It is, technically, still afternoon.
Shush.
Where was the spare key again?
On any other occasion, it would have been a pleasant evening in the city. The breeze was nice from the back of the Steel Horse this Roalis; wind in their hair, eyes protected by goggles while wheels passed through puddles. Their toolbox rattled upon the back of the machine, lashed in place on a welded on the parcel shelf, the comforting clicking of the fire pistons as they wound their way through the soot district. They still jostled, but the early days where the machine shook their bones has considerably eased off with further practice and experimentation. There was a small spray of water, Gale's shins soaked within the wave - but the Smith paid it little mind. It was a cool respite against the sweat that clung to them.
Drink, they needed a drink - and the inside of their water flask was running on empty.
Curse this Probation.
Slowing down, the brakes squeaking as they stopped outside a familiar home. They were late, the streaks of colour chasing their way across the blue sky, the few lanterns in the process of being lit. They chained the Steel Horse to a lamppost, pausing to take a swig from their flask only to find it empty.
"Fuck." Gale grimaced.
Claiming their toolbox, they strode up to the front door before giving it an awkward knock. It was awkward; half a rap of knuckles, with the other half being a louder, heavier knock, and finishing with a much more timid tap of noise. They stood on the spot for a moment, finger tugging at the collar of their shirt. The skin was slightly flushed beneath, and a horrible tacky taste clung to the inside of their mouth. It had been a long few days, balancing three different personalities that all required attention and trying to maintain some semblance of order. The days had become long, with the nights becoming even longer. There were moments where they were trapped, staring up at the ceiling in contemplation over what they had done, and how damned stupid it was for them to step up.
But someone had to do it, and if it was Wisp then what would she drag them all into?
Tapping the breast pocket of their waistcoat they remembered their cigarette case - an alternative respite that would have to do. Outside on the doorstep, they lit one up, the off-caramel scent of the tobacco lingering on their breath. Some mixed blend; they took a deep drag as they waited outside for a moment longer, and knocked another awkward knock.
"Aggie, it's Gale. Are you home?"
Their eyes swept around the door; maybe something had happened? Maybe the old woman had fallen over and was stuck? Hit her head on the way down-
Bullshit. That woman is terrifying and far too stubborn to go out that way.
Gale flicked the ash at the end of their cigarette. Maybe it was because they were late, perhaps she had gone out for the afternoon and Gale had missed her? It was possible, and the Smith did say she would be around in the afternoon-
It is, technically, still afternoon.
Shush.
Where was the spare key again?
