The engineers have started construction on the first prototype. It's not anywhere close to ready--more like the outline of an aircraft than anything else--but it's exciting all the same. She spent most of the day nosing around the manufacturing hanger until they shooed her out from underfoot. (Not that anyone really shoos a Spartan, but Natalie took the hint well enough.)
When the bar showed up in her bunk again, she took the opportunity to grab some dinner. At present, she's trying to sketch the design for the Sabre from memory.
Mary Anne has a nice house and in it is a nice kitchen. She doesn't make use of it very often, but she figured Thanksgiving was a nice time to change that.
She has tried to make her mother's stuffing three times today, with increasingly disastrous results. At least the pie turned out alright. She has a seat at a table and a glass of tequila to soothe her wounded ego.
Thanks to a combination of millitime and
Coyote's fantastic stash, Artemis is sprawled in one of the booths with a platter of sweet potato biscuits. She takes her time buttering one, humming to herself.
[tiny tag:
Noble Six