Sabine's warehouse- Tuesday afternoonish

[seriesofbaddecisions]

Part of the reason this week was hard for Sabine was it tended to mess with her usual artistic outlet. Not even the way you'd think- it was mostly that her work came out unfocused and chaotic, and it wasn't something she wanted to look back on afterwards, so she never kept it. Instead, she dedicated her time to other creative endeavors, such as shooting things, and blowing other things up.

Today she had Astrid with her, too, for some catharsis and maybe some roomie bonding time that they hadn't had since she'd come back.

"Have you been in here before?" Sabine asked, opening the door with the orange firebird on it.


[For the roomie!]

Comments

[white_oleander]

"No, I don't think I have," Astrid admitted, the rush of excitement that had been sustained pretty much since they left the flower shop coursing through her even stronger now, with this feeling of some secret being shared, of a part of Sabine being revealed to her, one that she'd left to Sabine even back when when they were closer, back before she left. Of course, a small stab of guilt did wedge its way in there, too, because here Astrid was trying to stay out of Sabine's way and this felt like the exact opposite. But it was also...different. Because Sabine had invited her, and, right now, Astrid didn't care how much she was possibly imposing on her. Because all she wanted right now was just to be near Sabine, to be with her, and she'd gained just enough of that odd, relentless longing in her to just not give a shit anymore.

[seriesofbaddecisions]

"I'm not actually sure anyone has," Sabine admitted. She knew she'd mentally banned Vette abd Nina because she didn't think the warehouse would survive, but she didn't really have people over.

And once inside, it was very much Sabine's space. Aside from a couple murals, like the slave battle that she kept adding to, it was mostly graffiti art over the walls. The biggest piece was a graffitied windmill type design in orange and blue in the very center of the floor. And against the far wall was a meticulously organized series of storage containers with very clear labeling, with a few tables covered with supplies off to the side.

If she was looking cleft, Astrid might find some scorch marks on the floor, too.

[white_oleander]

And walking in and looking around, Astrid could really only think of one thing to day. "Oh, wow."

Then, almost as if out of no where, as if managing to work its way through all the swirling, whirling jumbled in her mind just then, an odd thought emerged. That it would really seem unlikely that Sabine would resent Astrid for infringing on her space again back in the room when she had all this space already to herself.

It was almost a little staggering, that thought, and she wasn't entirely sure what to do with it.

So she just kept looking and taking in all of Sabine's art that she'd missed so much while she was gone, and, eventually, her eyes drift toward the left, toward the floor.

"What happened here?" she asked, indicating it a little with a finger. "Is it from the bombs?"

Because that was, she reminded herself, why they were there in the first place.

[seriesofbaddecisions]

"Yeah. I made sure to install ventilation so sometimes I'll set things off in here. Sometimes they leave souvenirs," Sabine explained. "Sometimes I paint over them."

[white_oleander]

"I like the look of the souveniers," Astrid told her, looking over at Sabine with a faint smile. Tehy were like scars on the warehouse floor, not traditionally attractive, but intriguing and far more interesting that just a simple painted-over surface.

Well, not that Sabine was likely to paint anything that simple over it.

Briefly, when she looked over at Sabine, she forgot what was she was going to say, a little astonished over the thrill she felt that they were here together by themselves, when they shared a room together and were together by themselves pretty much every night.

"I...." she started, but that wasn't it. "Erm. Have...you been working in her for a while?"

[seriesofbaddecisions]

"I took it over the day I got here, after the picnic," Sabine told her. "I come out here when I need some time, or if I have to work on something too dangerous for the dorms."

Which was a lot.

[white_oleander]

Astrid's head tilted with intrigue. "Dangerous, like the bombs dangerous?" she asked, feeling a little more excited about these bombs, though she realized it was all probably just some strange manifestation of her feelings wanting to take a sudden destructive bend. "Or something else?"

[seriesofbaddecisions]

"Or weapons modifications, not that I have a ton of reasons to do either these days," Sabine admitted. "I don't have heavy duty stuff anymore, but if I'm going to do any of it I'd rather be away from people, where I know all my safety checks."

She did have heavy duty stuff here, since she'd taken it all off the Ghost. But she wasn't going to tell people that.

[white_oleander]

Astrid smiled a little faintly, thinking (and not for the first time since coming back) how she'd forgotten how conversations like this, about weapons modifications and heavy duty stuff in secret decorated warehouses were just almost normal conversations here, and that sometimes made her feel like it really all must be a dream, because the real world wasn't like that, and, maybe it was just something in the air this week, but, right now, at that moment, for the first time, she felt like if it was a dream, she didn't really want to wake up.

"So," she said, smile brightening a little, "those bombs?"

She was actually a little more excited to see Sabine handle and maybe talk about the bombs a little bit than the bombs themselves, but it all seemed like it would be a good distraction.

[seriesofbaddecisions]

Sabine waved her over to the far wall, where her setup was. For all that Hera had initially worried about Sabine blowing herself up, she was clearly very careful- while her handwriting was normally very stylized, everything was very clearly labeled in precise printing and in Aurebesh, just in case.

"I was thinking a low-to-medium indoor bang with some pretty," she explained.

Which was terrible phrasing.