Don't believe in all that you've been told, the sky's the limit you can reach your goal. [OPEN]
Characters: Connor and [OPEN]
Content: Connor, social failure and hacker & mechanic extraordinaire, is looking for the Winding Way. Please feel free to bother him when he’s on his way, or when he gets there.
Setting: The Badlands, before the races.
Time: Afternoon-ish.
Warnings: Connor being a dork, and what is brought with you, should you choose to bring it.
So, a ‘huge ball of a ship’, Steel Samurai and tall-spires-and-propellers. You know, from that description, you’d think it would be easy for somebody to find the Winding Way in a bit of the badlands that just happened to be full of ships, but for Connor? Not so.
He snapped his journal shut and stuck it in his bag for later use.
“Right. Think, Connor, think. It’s got to be hard to miss. I mean, it’s big.” He said to himself, casting his eyes around the various airships, looking for the one that most matched the description.
And then, like a gleam in the distance he spotted one of the spires that the Mechanic had told him about and and, as far as he was concerned, it was practically heralded by a choir of angels and a single shard of light, poking through non-existent clouds and illuminating naught but the ship. He punched the air with a grin and a “Yes!”.
...aaand then he looked around and hoped that nobody had noticed him do that. Well, with almost everybody in the vicinity looking like they could kill you with no effort, it was always best to try and look as normal as possible. Well, if he looked like a nutter they might want to murder him just to be on the safe side.
He pulled the brim of his hat down over his eyes, cleared his throat and headed towards the tell-tale spire with an air of nonchalance. He totally did not express glee when on his own. Really.
No, really.
Content: Connor, social failure and hacker & mechanic extraordinaire, is looking for the Winding Way. Please feel free to bother him when he’s on his way, or when he gets there.
Setting: The Badlands, before the races.
Time: Afternoon-ish.
Warnings: Connor being a dork, and what is brought with you, should you choose to bring it.
So, a ‘huge ball of a ship’, Steel Samurai and tall-spires-and-propellers. You know, from that description, you’d think it would be easy for somebody to find the Winding Way in a bit of the badlands that just happened to be full of ships, but for Connor? Not so.
He snapped his journal shut and stuck it in his bag for later use.
“Right. Think, Connor, think. It’s got to be hard to miss. I mean, it’s big.” He said to himself, casting his eyes around the various airships, looking for the one that most matched the description.
And then, like a gleam in the distance he spotted one of the spires that the Mechanic had told him about and and, as far as he was concerned, it was practically heralded by a choir of angels and a single shard of light, poking through non-existent clouds and illuminating naught but the ship. He punched the air with a grin and a “Yes!”.
...aaand then he looked around and hoped that nobody had noticed him do that. Well, with almost everybody in the vicinity looking like they could kill you with no effort, it was always best to try and look as normal as possible. Well, if he looked like a nutter they might want to murder him just to be on the safe side.
He pulled the brim of his hat down over his eyes, cleared his throat and headed towards the tell-tale spire with an air of nonchalance. He totally did not express glee when on his own. Really.
No, really.