Fandom Island and Town

There were some possible new plans fer the snowmobile comin' up here (even if those plans might technically make it not so much a snowmobile anymore), so Wayne decided he'd just leave that fer now until Shuri had a chance to come look at it and get an idea of what she might need to make her own modifications on it, and that got him thinkin' a little about how then that'd make at least three people who'd added their personal mark to the thing, and wouldn't it be interesting if there were a bit more?

Then again, too many cooks, and all that. Maybe it was just best leavin' it be after that.

Meantime, he got around to moving things from here to here and tending to the bitey bits, feeling a bit grateful that the s'mores monstrosities from yesterday seemed enough to save him from diggin' up any other monstrosities in the scrap today.

Syndulla Scrap is open!

Y'wanna know what? Wayne had actually gone a good few weeks without unearthing any questionable vehicle builds that had clearly been abadoned in the scrapyard when whoever put it together woke the fuck up and realized they were making some real fucking spare parts, so he shouldn't be surprised when, as he moved things from here to here, he uncovered several of them in a short amount of time.

And then he gave a rueful look over at that hybrid snowmobile he'd sort of stopped pickin' at since it wasn't as much pickin' at it when there weren't hardly any snow this winter and he didn't ahve a little blue Twi'lek picking at it with him, and began to worry if it weren't just as bad, but he was blinded by his own love for it...

Sydulla Scrap is open!

Wayne was used to coming on over to the scrapyard to find any number of questionable and disturbing things, but he had to admit, this was definitely a first.

Because the scrapyard was next to the T&C, and the T&C seemed to be having a mega major Squishy machine malfunction, and that malfunction was getting all over the streets and starting to seep into the scrapyard.

"Now that can't be good," said Wayne, helpfully.

Which was why he was not only somewhat glad he did bother heading down to the scrapyard after his classes, but that he'd also gotten there before the squishy seepage managed to make it in to the bitey bits. He should probably duck his head into the store and see if they needed any help, but his first priority was going to be making sure the bitey bits could avoid the squishy flow if it made its way into the scrapyard and also to make sure they were safe from all these bees that just kept gathering and getting worse. Sure, they were big round hunks of sentient metal, so bees probably weren't going to much to them, but better safe than sorry, and Wayne just sort of felt bad about them being bothered by bees.

And then securing the perimeter with some sort of barrier, because all that squishy under the scrap was gonna lead to a whole lot of rust and damage, and it was hard, sweaty work in this heat, and he supposed this was another shirt that was going to join the pile of shirts that really needed to be cleaned that he apparently couldn't clean because none of the washers were working and not only that, but they refused to be fixed (because you know of course he tried).

Maybe if he could find himself a washboard in the scrap today, or maybe there was somewhere else he could find one.

He'd probably go check the T&C, but, well...

Syndulla Scrap is open!

It looked like the bitey bits were eating good that day, as Wayne kept picking up plenty of scrap metal all rusted up, just as they liked it.

He was, however, going to make them work for it with some discipline exercises, which mostly involved a lot of running around, sitting, and obeying. There was a lot of work to go with these guys, but they were getting much better, and they would be well rewarded for their hard work.

Except for the one. There was one that was stubborn and wild in a way that had earned him pert'near an indefinite Time Out.

Syndulla Scrap is open!

The bitey bits, it would seem, had decided to put on a musical. There were sets, there was a stage, there was even a guest of honor folding chair set out for Wayne when he showed up to work the scrapyard a bit that week.

They put so much work into it that even Wayne would have felt a bit bad about not going along with it, and so he did, having a seat as a somewhat captive audience and just...gawking a little.

If there were words fer something like this, well...Wayne didn't quite know what those words would be.

Syndulla Scrap is open!

Wayne always did enjoy just pickin' through things at the scrapyard, even if it meant unveiling some truly terrible things, like today's parade of taxidermied rats dressed up like clowns, but, at least lately, he felt like he had some sort of goal or purpose to it other than just moving things from here to here, because now he could just be on the lookout for things that seemed they could make good props for the terrible movie they had to make for that one class that he still didn't understand what he was doing in.

He still felt something like a revolutionary new way to farm skel was a much more interesting plot than just a bunch of weapons that blew up (though he could see the appeal), but if they were going to just blow up weapons, well...best have plenty of weapons to blow up.

And then he got to thinking....mebbe he could finally put that snowmobile to good use somehow?

There seemed potential there, anywhey....

Syndulla Scrap is open!

Now, Wayne took this here job because he liked pups and he missed working with pups and he knew that Prompto, for all his flaws, was pretty good with these pups and now that he was gone, these pups would miss that sort of interaction and Wayne was more'n happy to keep up the tradition, but what he did not sign up for was this level of being absolutely beset with cats.

Not that there was anything wrong with cats. Cats were just fine, and having a few of them around to take care of mice and other rodents in the barns and the fields was a good thing, except for the fact that your sister seemed to think it was a good idea to ruin it all by feeding them, and how're you gonna expect a fed cat to be bothered with chasin' mice, Katy?

But these cats, it seemed, apparently were never fed, because they kept pesterin' Wayne about it in very vocal (and climby) swarms, despite all their food dishes being perfectly full and waitin' for them. But still, they seemed determined to not only pester Wayne, but also to climb on him, and he was pretty sure a few of them were licking him to test and see if he was food.

And if Wayne understood cats any better, he might have realized that this was all some sort of protest for them missing Sidon. It was very upsetting, when your large source of emergency food just suddenly went missing for a couple weeks and the only replacement was very distinctly not even good food like he was.

Furnado is open!

And covered in cats.

About halfway into the day, Wayne was putting hats on puppers.

He was, generally, opposed to things like hats on puppers, but even Wayne wasn't immune to continually being assaulted by big wide pleading puppy dog eyes for hours on end.

Fuck, Wayne was actually the opposite of immune to big wide pleading puppy dog eyes, but he had built up a pretty solid tolerance over the years, but these pups played a real hard game.

And he had a lot of bad habits he needed to break from when Prompto was taking care of 'em. He was big on hard discipline, sure, but some things needed to be broken a bit more gently...

And so there was Wayne. Putting hats on pups. Occasionally muttering something about 10-ply super-soft skid kids under his breath all the while.

They did look pretty cute in those hats, though.

Furnado is open!

Y'wanna know what? Wayne may have given Prompto a hard time more often than not, but he had to admit, he had to respect a guy who went out of his way to make sure that the doggos and puppers at the animal shelter still got all the attention and love and snuggles they were use to getting now that he'd gone off back to whatever fuck home planet he was from. The guy was still weird and needed to lay off the sugar cereal and was pretty much made of spare parts, but, y'wanna know what else? Even spare parts could be useful.

Granted, Wayne's method of taking care of dogs was much different than Prompto's, and it involved a much more militant requirement of rigerous exercise and expending of energy before feeding and cuddles time, rather than Prompto's much more chaotic, anything goes kind of approach, but that was the great thing about pups. They didn't really care much about how you cared for them, as long as you did, and all the pets and scratches and cuddles at the end was just as much a treat for Wayne as it was for them.

It made him a little homesick for all his dogs back home, sure, especially good ol' Gus, but it was hard to be too upset about anything when you had a pup under your arm.

Furnado is open!

[[ finally! I can use every one billion of Wayne's adorable dog icons! ]]

Prompto was, as usual, going on and on and flapping his mouth too much about stuff Wayne already knew, but he wasn't going to say anything, he was just going to let him keep going on and on until he wore himself down, because he had a puppy in his arms while Prompto was showing him all the finer points and details about the shelter before officially handing over his keys.

"So here's my keys," Prompto said, going to hand them over and getting met with a dull look that seemed to ask if he couldn't see that Wayne's arms were filled with puppy right now, so he just set them on the counter, "or you could use Sidon's, too, I guess, it doesn't really matter, they're the same keys, but it's good that you're down with helping out here now that the two of us are gonna be gone, you know? And if you ever feel like the doggos are feeling a bit--"

"Can confirm," said Wayne, abruptly, as he realized that if he didn't do something soon, this might just never end. "We breed pups on the farm, Prompto, I'm sure I can figgur it ouwt."

"Oh, no kidding?" asked Prompto, doing his best to cover the little bit of hurt that always came with Wayne's harsh manner with his interest. "Do you have pictures?"

Wayne squinted at him.

"Fuck kinda question is that?" he asked, harshly, and then, a moment later, much less harsh, as he freed a hand from the puppy to dig his phone out of his pocket. "'Course I got pictures."

And even though they were surrounded by puppies, it was hard not to be excited about seeing pictures of more puppies, so Prompto beamed as he went to take the phone from Wayne, but got momentarily distracted.

"Oh, wait, hey," he said, reaching a thumb toward Wayne's face. "You've got an eyelash."

Wayne was just going to give Prompto a look fitting fer just about anyone who thought they could just go and brush a thumb against someone else's face like that, while Prompto, oblivious, just triumphantly held up his thumb with the stray eyelash successfull captured on the end.

"Make a wish, bro," Prompto said.

"...wish you weren't so fucking awkward, bud."

Furnado is open!

[[ though I am definitely back on SP *SIGH* but I've been waiting forever to get Wayne in on Furnado once Prompto and Sidon were out, AND I've been dying to drop that line in game XD ]]

Y'wanna know what?

It still felt like a damn shame that there weren't ever enough snow around here this winter to really get a good use out of that snowmobile Wayne and Vette had been working on, but Wayne got to thinking that mebbe, just mebbe, it wasn't a total loss and that they'd just been thinking about it all wrong and, while there really shoulda been more snow, what one couldn't deny was that water was something this place still had in abundance and mebbe, just mebbe....he could convert that snowmobile into some sort of jet ski Ski-Doo...

No small task, to be sure, especially without Vette's skilled hand to help him along, but it weren't like he was doing anything else more productive around here, except moving things from here to here, so guess who was lighting a dart, breaking out the toolbox, and having a kneel in front of that old rust bucket to have a look and see what he might be able to do about that...

Even if it wasn't going to work, it weren't a bad way to spend a day, really...

Syndulla Scrap is open!

[[ and in comes the expected 'fleeing to work, blanket sp fer everyone' post-spam disclaimer! ]]

Wayne was squinting.

This, in and of itself, was nothing new or special, but he was squinting specifically at the perimeter fence around the scrapyard, which was distinctly different today than it had been in the past, as far as he could recollect.

It didn't look...terrible, he had to admit, but it was definitely there and there was a very big question of exactly how it got there and who had done it and why and where exactly did they get all those doors and why did one of those doors look like it had once had a giant axe hacked into it and was it a perminent fixture or was it just here for the day or the week or the month or whatever?

He figured there was no point in trying to answer those questions, because there weren't likely answers to those questions that existed, but he still couldn't help be curious and wanting to know. At least that last one, he'd figure he'd know the answer to when they got back from break to see if it was still there.

So he was squinting. At the fence around the scrapyard which was now made of doors, apparentleh, and squinting at the door-fence was just a little less disturbing than his other option of squinting at another travesty of automobile decor he'd unearthed when moving things from here to here.

Syndulla Scrap is open!

[[ and bookbeltof_love continues to be a goddamn beautiful inspiration ]]

Anyone ever really wonder what a whole bunch of cushion foam thrown into an incinerator might smell like? Well, then, today was yer lucky day! Because it seemed that the foam had followed Wayne to the junkyard. He might have felt a little more inclined to be more curious about it, like Sabine had been, now that it seemed to be a trend, but he had a sneaking suspicion that this was a highly localized and targeted sort of problem.

There was quite a lot of it, and none of it was going to get any better by being outside in the scrapyard, either, so into the incinerator it went. Wayne had saved some of it and thought to fashion out some nice little beds and the like for the bitey bits, but those were quickly turned into torn and shredded piles of fluff.

Which, really, he should have expected, but it still sort of stung a little.

Syndulla Scrap is open!