Tinker, tinker. Solder, weld. It was the activity she'd chosen to occupy herself with today, something to keep the voices quiet or at least let her ignore them while she worked. She was out of bombs, anyway, and couldn't find it in her for some reason to make charges suitable for taking down some big, rich fucks.
This stupid city. First it kept her from making Piltover feel how she felt every day, and now she couldn't even do the same to it without, like, ten naps.
What'cha making? Something to ruin someone else's life? Mylo can eat a dick. She's working, which means it's time for him to keep his mouth shut.
She holds up her latest little mechanical firelight bug (no charges yet, too tiring) before her stomach growls. Loudly. Oh yeah. She needs to eat sometime. How long has she been in this room? She doesn't know. Lost time. Her memory skipped a few steps, hazy, fogged, and now she's got no idea how long since she last ate.
She gets up and opens the door to her room, walking out to find her robot roommate doing the same. She's got a robot roommate now, or housemate, or whatever. As long as he doesn't stop her she doesn't care.
"You didn't eat the leftover pizza, did you?" She asks.
@ghostmachined
