Sounds drift through the air around me as I jump upwards while bringing my hammer and preparing the strike the targets set out in my back yard. A barely audible crackle announces the coming lightning blast that hits the target, my grip tensing to turn the hammer to get just the right aim, my eyes narrowed and focused on the task before me.
The lightning seems to stem from the hammer in slow motion as it-- strikes! I drop back to earth with a grunt, and straighten to see that the target is properly blasted, but farther to the left than I'd like. The hammer is still giving off an unusual electrical buzzing as I twirl it once, then prepare to strike again.
Leap and raise, aim and focus, aaaand BLAST!
"ACK!" The blast goes horribly off-kilter, striking in reverse and nearly hitting me! I fall to the ground awkwardly, then leap back up. "The grass is on fire! Die, flames! Die die die!" I stamp them out hastily, then finally sit down tiredly.
"What's wrong, Tessie?'' I ask my hammer, picking it up. Something inside its inner workings is clinking. Definitely broken. But I don't know anything about taking hammers apart. I could ask Irving about it, but the lad probably has enough projects on his hands. Fingering my singed ponytail, I recall a sort of repair shop my friend Missy mentioned to me once. That's the place, I think surely, picking up my hammer and setting out.
The shop is in the No Man's Landing Business District, hard to find for most people and holed up in an alley next to the market. During a busy market day like this, no one noticed me ducking into an alleyway, hand protectively grasping the brim of my top hat.
Whew. . . What a crowd! And what a shop. . . Lowering my hand, I see a building sticking out a little from the others, as if a cloud giant's hand picked it up and set it down crooked. And perhaps the building gathered a layer of dust and grime in the process. The only way to tell that it's still operating is a red and gold 'OPEN' sign in the smudged window. And the-- time for the Detective's analysis later.
A faded and weather-beaten sign above the shop announces 'Good Ol' Engineer's Tech! Selling and Repairs'. What a clever disguise! I smile slightly and go inside. The pleasant tinkling of a bell declares my arrival as I walk further in with my hammer clutched in my hands. The shop smells of dusty old metal, but the gleam of a few weapons and gadgets lined up on shelves show that a hard working pair of hands runs the place.
A shuffling from the back draws my attention away from the grand weapons and reveals an old man, wearing a faded chimney sweep mask and a greaser hat with spikes of white hair showing underneath.
"Oy lass, what can I do for ye?'' he asks, the voice strong despite age. "Broke ye 'ton whopper, did ye?''
"Indeed, sah." I place the hammer on the worn wood counter. "The aim is all off, it makes a weird buzzing noise after being used, and there's a strange clinking sound from inside. Do you know what's wrong with it?''
"Aye, sounds like a broken electrical conductor. I'll 'ave to take it apart and replace it, should be done by tomorrow. Unless ye need it sooner."
"No, I'll just use Gyro until then. Thank you very much, sah. Get well soon, Tessie." I pat my hammer affectionately, then leave the shop and go home along the outer bit of NML, along the docks.
As I do, I seen two people boarding a small airship hastily. I stop and observe. That's Miss K! And. . . the White Lion guy. Emman. Something's amiss here, but they're already lifting off and I can't catch up to the ship before it leaves. But I can try.
I take off running towards the ship as it lifts off, getting clear of the docks before moving forward. It's nearly too late, but I leap upwards twice than normal for someone my size (credit of the bionic leg) and grab the handle of the side hatch, opening it and hurtling in breathlessly.
Miss K yelps in surprise, and Emman whirls around with his weapons raised.
"Hey, guys." I pant a little as I get up from the floor. "Remember me?''
"What are you doing here?'' Emman asks suspiciously as he closes the hatch door.
"Wondering what you're doing here. What's all the rush with boarding an airship and working with a bounty hunter?'' I ask Miss K.
"Hey!" Emman says defensely.
"Sorry dude, my vase is still broken and so is a lot of trust between you and me. That might change if you have a Snickers, though."
K clears her throat. "I'm going after Draven Eldercraft."
My eyes widen. "Why?"
"He tied me up in a chair, for heaven's sake! And. . . I need answers."
"Then you could've just asked him in a friendly fashion! Call him up, say 'Yo dude I have questions and you need to answer them in exchange for a free copy of all Marvel soundtracks!'''
Miss K's forehead wrinkles with confusion. "You can never call him up, that's the problem."
I drop my hands. "So it's more serious than that? Okay... I'm coming along for the snickers, then."
@Draven_Eldercraft @Emman_Jumpsong1 @Miss_K Was I tragic enough?