Post by Airwatcher on May 22, 2020 1:32:15 GMT
(Amura )
Taking a step forth, repeated by another. His legs creaked and his pistons wheezed as if notifying Airwatcher of their unanimous conclusion that walking was a chore. Walking was the largest waste of time Airwatcher had ever familiarized himself with. If anyone desired to arrive at a destination then they ought to sprint, or drive, or fly. Merely teasing the ground with an even stride was slothful. Airwatcher’s door wings twitched as he approached the mining facility. His visor shuddered a dim lime green of dread. His walking pace slowed.
Oooooooh blast! he almost said aloud. He knew he was biding his time. For once, he couldn’t find a will to get something over with.
Walking, torture as it was, delayed him embarking on a quest underground. Airwatcher’s plating rattled merely thinking of it. No highways to zoom in, no sky to gaze upon, no sun or fresh air to inspire hope. Caves were stone-faced slave masters who oppressed space and limited movement.
For the third time that day Airwatcher reminded himself how unlikely a cave-in was. Finally he came to the entrance of the mining site. The place looked as if not too many frequented it. The tools looked old and rusted. Yet the caves still gaped like blackholes, waiting to swallow the two-wheeler whole. Airwatcher held up a small list on his gauntlet’s holo-screen. He made a small mark by a set of confirmed coordinates. With that, he cupped a servo to the side of his cheek, inhaling before shouting:
“HEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Airwatcher called. This is stupid. This is the seventh fragging location…
Taking a step forth, repeated by another. His legs creaked and his pistons wheezed as if notifying Airwatcher of their unanimous conclusion that walking was a chore. Walking was the largest waste of time Airwatcher had ever familiarized himself with. If anyone desired to arrive at a destination then they ought to sprint, or drive, or fly. Merely teasing the ground with an even stride was slothful. Airwatcher’s door wings twitched as he approached the mining facility. His visor shuddered a dim lime green of dread. His walking pace slowed.
Oooooooh blast! he almost said aloud. He knew he was biding his time. For once, he couldn’t find a will to get something over with.
Walking, torture as it was, delayed him embarking on a quest underground. Airwatcher’s plating rattled merely thinking of it. No highways to zoom in, no sky to gaze upon, no sun or fresh air to inspire hope. Caves were stone-faced slave masters who oppressed space and limited movement.
For the third time that day Airwatcher reminded himself how unlikely a cave-in was. Finally he came to the entrance of the mining site. The place looked as if not too many frequented it. The tools looked old and rusted. Yet the caves still gaped like blackholes, waiting to swallow the two-wheeler whole. Airwatcher held up a small list on his gauntlet’s holo-screen. He made a small mark by a set of confirmed coordinates. With that, he cupped a servo to the side of his cheek, inhaling before shouting:
“HEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Airwatcher called. This is stupid. This is the seventh fragging location…