"She did!"  She glanced down the hall.  "She's in my room talking to Gear."

She glanced from RC back to Leo and back to RC.  "Flying laser cars you say?  That'd be handy."  After a moment she asked.  "What's a laser?"

"Flying cars shooting heat rays.  Don't tell my roommate about this or she might set fife to my bed.  By accident of course.  She doesn't seem the type to do something like that on purpose."

She flexed her calves and twisted her ankles to get the wheels of her skates spinning, enjoying the sound and appearance.  "Yeah, Gear's my roommate.  She's nice, but she likes to build  I mean, she's half-demolished our room to make space for whatever she's building.  Floor's mostly gone, and the outside wall is all planks and wood sheets at the moment."

She spun the skates again.  :"And she's kinda hyper.  I hope she sleeps, because the racket she makes would keep me up if she works late."
 

Frances would be walking back to get some stuff ready as he would be singing a slight tune, if anyone spoke Primordial, it would be easy enough to know what was being said.

"Sé do bheatha, a bhean ba léanmhar,
Do b' é ár gcreach thú bheith i ngéibheann,
Do dhúiche bhreá i seilbh méirleach,
Is tú díolta leis na Gallaibh.

Óró, sé do bheatha 'bhaile,
Óró, sé do bheatha 'bhaile,
Óró, sé do bheatha 'bhaile
Anois ar theacht an tsamhraidh.

Tá Gráinne Mhaol ag teacht thar sáile,
Óglaigh armtha léi mar gharda,
Gaeil iad féin is ní Frainc ná Spáinnigh,
Is cuirfidh siad ruaig ar Ghallaibh.

Óró, sé do bheatha 'bhaile, 
Óró, sé do bheatha 'bhaile,
Óró, sé do bheatha 'bhaile,
Anois ar theacht an tsamhraidh.

A bhuí le Rí na bhFeart go bhfeiceam,
Mura mbeam beo ina dhiaidh ach seachtain,
Gráinne Mhaol agus míle gaiscíoch,
Ag fógairt fáin ar Ghallaibh.

Óró, sé do bheatha 'bhaile,
Óró, sé do bheatha 'bhaile,
Óró, sé do bheatha 'bhaile,
Anois ar theacht an tsamhraidh."

Last edited by WoodrowLand (2/27/2018 9:23 pm)

"Hi Frances."  Marty also waves.  "If you're here, then everybody else must at least be on their way."

She seemed morose at the prospect.  "I suppose I should get to work cooking."  She'd always loved cookig, even as a kid.  Sure she'd helped her father dress game or fish and cook over an open fire, but she'd also helped her mom bake or prepare in the kitchen.

Now, she worried that it was too girly.

Unit comes out of his room with a fresh load.  "How...it's not any smaller, it's like he creates trash somehow!"