- Jan 13, 2017
- 955
- Gender
- female
- Pronouns
- doesn't matter
- Posting Status
- Irregularly
Really, Damien was getting impatient.
Four trips to various pathetic auto-body shops, paint so cracked you could see the primitive brickwork under the chipping flakes. One had the part he needed in absolutely abysmal condition, and anyway it wasn't the right size so it wouldn't fit inside his machine. One had offered a delivery on the part, shipped straight from their home planet, but Damien be damned if he ordered it from the other side of the galaxy! He did not want to wait thirty weeks for the part to come in. Besides, that shop smelled awful, and if he didn't leave when he did, he certainly would have retched on the table., much to the shopowners' dismay. And the last two were actually sort of respectable - actual metal framing instead of bricks, clean shop, helpful shopkeepers (but a bit too clingy for his taste). But they didn't have anything even resembling the part that he needed.
So here he was, phone in hand, walking to yet another auto-body shop, this one for spaceship maintenance, supposedly. The route indicated was nowhere near specifically step-by-step, as he was used to, but whatever - he was perceptive and should be able to find the shop with ease. Damien almost wished that this part wasn't required - since it was such a pain in the neck to find. Oh well.
Finally, he spotted it - a well-kept building in the middle of a well-to-do plaza, not too far from the last one he'd visited Hopefuly, he thought, the damn simpletons had his part.
Ducking into the shop, he waved over one of the shopkeeps and, instead of asking like a patient person, Damien shoved a copy of the part blueprints at them. "Have it?"
(edit: did a dumb and forgot to @ you @Fudge )
Four trips to various pathetic auto-body shops, paint so cracked you could see the primitive brickwork under the chipping flakes. One had the part he needed in absolutely abysmal condition, and anyway it wasn't the right size so it wouldn't fit inside his machine. One had offered a delivery on the part, shipped straight from their home planet, but Damien be damned if he ordered it from the other side of the galaxy! He did not want to wait thirty weeks for the part to come in. Besides, that shop smelled awful, and if he didn't leave when he did, he certainly would have retched on the table., much to the shopowners' dismay. And the last two were actually sort of respectable - actual metal framing instead of bricks, clean shop, helpful shopkeepers (but a bit too clingy for his taste). But they didn't have anything even resembling the part that he needed.
So here he was, phone in hand, walking to yet another auto-body shop, this one for spaceship maintenance, supposedly. The route indicated was nowhere near specifically step-by-step, as he was used to, but whatever - he was perceptive and should be able to find the shop with ease. Damien almost wished that this part wasn't required - since it was such a pain in the neck to find. Oh well.
Finally, he spotted it - a well-kept building in the middle of a well-to-do plaza, not too far from the last one he'd visited Hopefuly, he thought, the damn simpletons had his part.
Ducking into the shop, he waved over one of the shopkeeps and, instead of asking like a patient person, Damien shoved a copy of the part blueprints at them. "Have it?"
(edit: did a dumb and forgot to @ you @Fudge )
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