Jun 3
At a certain point an Admech has to get frustrated enough to employ percussive maintenance, right? There's only so much chanting over the air conditioner you can do before you start throwing hands with the machine spirit.
seen from China
seen from Türkiye
seen from Russia
seen from Singapore
seen from Kazakhstan
seen from Türkiye
seen from Germany
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from China
seen from Latvia
seen from Türkiye
seen from Türkiye
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from France
seen from Russia
seen from Yemen
seen from South Africa
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
At a certain point an Admech has to get frustrated enough to employ percussive maintenance, right? There's only so much chanting over the air conditioner you can do before you start throwing hands with the machine spirit.
I’m obsessed with the fact that we have all this peak sci-fi technology, cybernetic enhancements, and advanced droids, yet when his leg glitches he just… thumps it.
Thousands of credits in high-tech surgery just to resort to the same technique I use on my $5 remote when the batteries are dying
I wish technology was still smackable. Like percussive maintenance requires such a delicate touch now.
spamton and tenna sideblog of @turochamp
this blog will be nsfw!
When I reblog something unrelated here assume I believe the post to be relevant for my own mysterious reasons.
message me with whatever your heart desires... send me posts for my tenna tags!
A percussive maintenance expert.
Sketch reward for SampleTex.
Posted using PostyBirb
I looked and didn’t find any of this pair
Abdirak (&/?) Zevlor WIP chapter for WoF
Abdirak considered his options for a moment before he uncoiled the Scourge at his hip. He could find a cane or a switch — he certainly did not want to damage the man before the long road ahead — but as he ran a hand over the Hellrider’s bare shoulder and felt the thick, almost leathery skin, he felt more at ease. The man could take more than the average person.
Zevlor swallowed audibly as Abdirak moved around him, examining him where he knelt on the stone floor, his hands clasped behind him as he had been instructed.
“Contrary to what I believe you were hoping for — this is not a punishment.” Abdirak ran his hand under the tiefling’s jaw and lifted his face to meet his eyes just a moment before he moved around the other shoulder. “You have not done anything to warrant punishment — and certainly not anything for which I am an authority to prescribe punishing.
“When was the last time you cried, Commander?”
Zevlor flinched at the question and his lip curled in a distasteful grimace. “I’m not a commander anymore—”
Abdirak came in front of him and caught his jaw in a rough grasp, lifting his head again and glaring down at him. “I did not ask, Commander. What I asked was when you last cried. When did you last allow yourself to grieve?”
Percussive maintenance
