Syndulla Scrap, Thursday

[chirpchirpchirp]

Vette wasn't getting much work done today, nah. She was at work, sure, but some of the local nasties seemed to have decided, last night, that there would be some of that weird stim stuff they seemed to be so obsessed about, somewhere in the scrap. The bitey bits were a little more agitated than usual, particularly Rusty, who was... more rusty this week all over again. Vette gave him (it? the metal chompy friend) a little smile and a pat on the... head-like-area, and then readied her blasters and let Rusty out to go scouring the scrapyard, picking off mutated killers with very, very little in the way of remorse.

If anybody needed Vette, they could just follow the 'pew-pew-pew,' and the occasional threat of, "If I die, I'm going to haunt you!"

She probably would haunt them, too. Not that it seemed like any of the splicers cared much either way.

[OOC: Open!]

Comments

[in_sidon_we_trust]

Sidon, really, was having a much easier time with all of this than most people. He certainly understood the concerns and the worry, and he knew they weren't good leaks, but he was just so used to having running water leaking and dripping and pooling and puddling. It was comforting to him in a way, though he did feel rather strange knowing his thoughts would likely be adverse from those of his friends and fellow Fandomites. Even some of the new architectural styles reminded him of Zora architecture. The dampness, while perhaps a bit on the cold side of what he'd prefer, was wonderful, and going outside was just...

Still pretty cold, but not so cold (he actually thought he might be getting more tolerant to the cold these days, just like Seggin could handle lightning better than the rest of them!) that Sidon hadn't taken full advantage of being underwater in his downtime. Including today, once he was finished with his class, but today, he had a bit more of a goal than just swimming around and enjoying the sights.

He didn't even terribly mind all the angry, attacking people, really. He tried to avoid them, of course, because he did feel terribly bad having to fight them, but they were rarely much of a match for him and his trident. Or his sword. Or his bow. Or his size...

Either way, he didn't have much difficulty making it over to the scrapyard with his gains for the day, grinning faintly at the sound of Vette's blaster....and her threats.

"At the very least," he called out, so his voice reached her before the sight of him did, just in case she was feeling particularly trigger happy and in the moment, "should you need to haunt them, it will not be as a hungry ghost! Do you suppose we shall be able to clear out the threat long enough for you to grab a bite to eat, my love?"

And, with his trident ready in one hand in case the threat was significant just then, he held aloft his impressive catch of fish with the other, still slightly dripping from the ocean outside.

[chirpchirpchirp]

That was one little blue head peeking out from behind some particularly rusted scrap metal, headtails flopping up and settling against her back. Vette grinned, put a hand on Rusty's... head? to call him off, and then came jogging out to meet Sidon with a hug.

"There'a always time for that," she declared. "Hey, you. You look like you've been having a good day."

A productive one, going by the size of that fish.

[in_sidon_we_trust]

"It has been only a good day thus far," said Sidon, grinning over each step of that jog toward him and especially over the hug that it concluded with, shifting the fish to join his trident hand so he could at least have one free arm to wrap around her in return. "But now it can officially be an excellent one! And how are you faring? It looks as though you've got things handled quite competently and well," he leaned back a little, so he could look down at her and flash her a particularly sharp smile, "though I can't imagine you're getting much work done."

[chirpchirpchirp]

"Hey," Vette laughed, "who says shooting murderers isn't work? Rusty and I are enjoying it, anyway. It's gotta get done."

It was kinda them or anyone who wasn't a murderer, really.