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vivalaI. The Armory
Donnie hasn't talked about the last mission. He hasn't talked much to anyone. Not entirely strange, but then nor is his preoccupation with work. At the moment he's taking a break from fixing up the armors that had been acquired during the taking of Hesaeth, working instead on more personal weapons. Or in this case, repairing them.
His staff is in pieces. Normally it collapses into something discreet enough to carry, but some of those pieces have very obvious indentations, damage sustained from the encounter with Lord Gundhir's son. The turtlekin picks up one of the cylindrical segments, holding it up in closer inspection. Repairing it would be possible although he'd likely have to reforge some pieces, but what good would it be if it would still essentially break under pressure?
...
Pushing aside an errant thought, Donnie sets the piece down, pulling out his notebook and a folded sheet of paper from within, flattening it out. The original designs for his collapsible staff, and extra notations for other additions to it. It still needs to be sturdier, but lighter too, especially if he plans to include more capabilities.
He doesn't look up at whoever approaches, only barely hearing the footsteps thanks to the mufflers he always tends to wear, especially down here where there's just so much noise. "Hey, know if there's any scrap titanium I can use?"
II. Subterranean Farms
Tucked away from the main fields and nestled in a smallish nook along the carved out walls, the little garden can easily be overlooked if one isn't paying attention to the strange, spiraling growth of vines dotted with small purple flowers that have started to crawl along the edges of the rock there. That's as far as Donnie's allowed them to grow, always taking care to trim them back before they can get out of hand.
He's rigged his own little light source here, simultaneously taking advantage of where crevices throw shadows across the space to allow for all kinds of plants to be cultivated. At a glance they're definitely more of a decorative sort than to be used for food, but he wouldn't advise eating most of these anyway. There are many flowers and herbs, and even a few types of fungi that grow within the natural rock 'shelves' of the flanking walls.
The turtlekin can be found tending to his beloved plants, removing any dead leaves, carefully watering the flowerbeds or tilling a patch of dirt in preparation for planting something new.
III. The Library
The library's become as much of a retreat as any, and in particular Donnie liked to hide away here because of how much quieter it is compared to other areas of the Vault.
He had come here to do some research but the peacefulness of the area paired with poor sleep has managed to lull him into an unscheduled naptime. Hopefully you didn't need that book he's currently using as a pillow, but be forewarned; he's a drooler.
Donnie hasn't talked about the last mission. He hasn't talked much to anyone. Not entirely strange, but then nor is his preoccupation with work. At the moment he's taking a break from fixing up the armors that had been acquired during the taking of Hesaeth, working instead on more personal weapons. Or in this case, repairing them.
His staff is in pieces. Normally it collapses into something discreet enough to carry, but some of those pieces have very obvious indentations, damage sustained from the encounter with Lord Gundhir's son. The turtlekin picks up one of the cylindrical segments, holding it up in closer inspection. Repairing it would be possible although he'd likely have to reforge some pieces, but what good would it be if it would still essentially break under pressure?
...
Pushing aside an errant thought, Donnie sets the piece down, pulling out his notebook and a folded sheet of paper from within, flattening it out. The original designs for his collapsible staff, and extra notations for other additions to it. It still needs to be sturdier, but lighter too, especially if he plans to include more capabilities.
He doesn't look up at whoever approaches, only barely hearing the footsteps thanks to the mufflers he always tends to wear, especially down here where there's just so much noise. "Hey, know if there's any scrap titanium I can use?"
II. Subterranean Farms
Tucked away from the main fields and nestled in a smallish nook along the carved out walls, the little garden can easily be overlooked if one isn't paying attention to the strange, spiraling growth of vines dotted with small purple flowers that have started to crawl along the edges of the rock there. That's as far as Donnie's allowed them to grow, always taking care to trim them back before they can get out of hand.
He's rigged his own little light source here, simultaneously taking advantage of where crevices throw shadows across the space to allow for all kinds of plants to be cultivated. At a glance they're definitely more of a decorative sort than to be used for food, but he wouldn't advise eating most of these anyway. There are many flowers and herbs, and even a few types of fungi that grow within the natural rock 'shelves' of the flanking walls.
The turtlekin can be found tending to his beloved plants, removing any dead leaves, carefully watering the flowerbeds or tilling a patch of dirt in preparation for planting something new.
III. The Library
The library's become as much of a retreat as any, and in particular Donnie liked to hide away here because of how much quieter it is compared to other areas of the Vault.
He had come here to do some research but the peacefulness of the area paired with poor sleep has managed to lull him into an unscheduled naptime. Hopefully you didn't need that book he's currently using as a pillow, but be forewarned; he's a drooler.
no subject
Date: 2024-09-30 07:48 am (UTC)"Ah dunno if they do anythin' extra to it. Ah'd assume so, but that's what they call it. Maybe it's some special silver? Or there's some magic on it?" Heck if she knows. She can work with some metals, but that's only because she had to shoe their horses sometimes...
no subject
Date: 2024-09-30 04:48 pm (UTC)"It'd have to be magic or something," Donnie says, all too eager to not focus on the subject of Adolphus, even if he was the one who had brought him up. Still, he can't help but finger those 'scars' on the length of his staff, like he could smooth them out if he rubbed hard enough.
"Unless silver in your world is different than silver here."
no subject
Date: 2024-09-30 11:20 pm (UTC)She scratches her head, puzzling over that. "Maybe it is? This ain't my first language, so maybe it's not the right word for it, neither...but Ah think that's how {silver} translates?"
It's as close as anything she knows of, but she can't think of any real difference between the two. "Sure looks like silver to me, anyhow."
i just really felt like using this icon
Date: 2024-10-01 04:54 am (UTC)