<<@Arc [Duckdown] It's a cold world girl. Aint no thing. I'm bout to put these last two up, head home and get some sleep. Holler at me in the morning, wiz?>>
<<@Duckdown: wiz, appreciate all the help, homie. You need anything holler at me. Get some restAnd with that, she finished off and gathered up the rest of the rigs, stowing them into her car when a few more messages popped up, from Micah and her parts supplier.
"...well frag. Totally forgot about that drek...". Glancing at the damaged fender, she did a quick survey of the damage, and how she was gonna fix it, and then sent off her reply
@Micah: yeah, I can have that ready for you by tomorrow. Have to rework and replace a bit of the front, but nothing serious. ¥130 will be your total, and I can guarantee a Corp garage would charge double.With that, she sent off an acknowledgement of her parts before closing up shop and leaving, setting up the last of the boxes...most notably at the location Raven gave her. She got a chill as she set it up, and wasted no time leaving the place. Her next stop? Picking up those parts, which she signed for without a word, wanting to get back to her garage as soon as possible...but not before hitting up a local convenience store and purchasing that ¥4 black pill known as Long Haul.
Getting home, she stared at the pill apprehensively before finally popping it into her mouth, sterling herself for the next four days as she got to work. As she heated and reshaped the parts of the car, she activated her surveillance grid, a massive ARO displaying images and readings throughout the hood before her. Setting up the ping system, she resumed her work, going tirelessly through the night.
The Next MorningBy the time the morning hit, the car was all fixed, not a scratch on her, the short human eating a bowl of soy noodles and staring at the displays, monitoring. She was only interrupted by a message popping into her display...
<Arc. Olena. I need to see you. It is important. Scorp is still making noise, but need to talk to you about Howlers and these murders. I am headed your place. Is alright or should meet elsewhere?
..the frag? The hell does she want with these murders? Drek. Drek. Ancients hitgirl... thinks I'm Howler...FRAG!Frantic, Arc took a moment to calm herself, breathing before deciding a course of action, strapping on her nade pouch and sending a reply.
<<@Olena: I am at my garage now. I can meet. No funny business? See you soon
<<@Duckdown: sax player coming to my place. If see a boom in the Barrens you can have my car. Peace, Skraa'Cha