The little Ithaeur ushers the last of her mechanics home for the day, and pulls the door across the large open front of the garage with a grunt. She doesn't look like she should be able to do it. Maybe that's why she does.
Hot, sweaty and covered in various automobile stains, Emily slouches over to the fridge, cracks open a beer and takes a long drink. Sighing, she looks at the clock on the wall. The Chrysler sat in the bay took an extra hour she hadn't planned on, still wasn't fixed and now Nathaniel Dormur was due to arrive.
Collapsing heavily against the workbench, she sips her beer.
Great. I'll have to take him upstairs.
Aww. And I wanted him to meet Ratchet... well, maybe we could still do that.
Did I tidy up?
HA! HAHAHA. Were you expecting to get laid? Tidy up... Emily, you're hi-larious.
The Iron Master Smiles to herself and waits for Nate to show up.
Typhuzuzu13 I thought we'd do this as a full scene, Ithaeur to Ithaeur.