(no subject)
Martine is kneeling in weapons locker staring at the mangled remains of...something, with an expression like a remorseful murderer.
Making a hat had seemed like a good idea and it had started off well enough. Finding a hat was easy, and then she'd begun to take it apart to see how it was made.
A baseball hat from the late 20th century is made using technologies from a time far in the future for Martine, and not made very well at that. 'Glue guns' and 'plastic' and 'industrial sewing machines' are involved. There is Velcro.
She hadn't known enough to drop it right there. How could she? She had said she'd make a hat, and she needed to figure out how.
She may have gotten a little frantic taking it apart.
The pieces of the ex-hat have been gathered together in a sad little pile, and Martine can nearly hear the powerful voice of every frugal instinct she's had impressed upon her listing off the reasons she should be glad there's no one here to see the butchery she has committed against an innocent article of clothing.
Of course, it’s not like weapons locker is a sealed room. Someone’s bound to wander by sooner or later.
Making a hat had seemed like a good idea and it had started off well enough. Finding a hat was easy, and then she'd begun to take it apart to see how it was made.
A baseball hat from the late 20th century is made using technologies from a time far in the future for Martine, and not made very well at that. 'Glue guns' and 'plastic' and 'industrial sewing machines' are involved. There is Velcro.
She hadn't known enough to drop it right there. How could she? She had said she'd make a hat, and she needed to figure out how.
She may have gotten a little frantic taking it apart.
The pieces of the ex-hat have been gathered together in a sad little pile, and Martine can nearly hear the powerful voice of every frugal instinct she's had impressed upon her listing off the reasons she should be glad there's no one here to see the butchery she has committed against an innocent article of clothing.
Of course, it’s not like weapons locker is a sealed room. Someone’s bound to wander by sooner or later.