Tael wrote:For example, this was me trialling the Naga idea back in the day :
Where did you get those guns from?
Tael wrote:Essentially, not everything I do is a finished idea - it's just a progression - hence the new work log
Shas'O T'Ar'Cha wrote:Where did you get those guns from?
Tael wrote:And that'll be enough Teal teasin' thank you
The workshop glows into being. Racks, spaces and parts lockers ping their content lists across integrated touch faces. The scent of metals, plastics and dull funk of a long shut room assault Tael's nasal folds as he steps in bold and full of purpose. New ventures to be explored and projects built.
"Ach - caffe dispenser." a palm covers his face and draws down slowly, finishing with an anguished grin.
The lights go out and Tael leaves.
A few moments later, the workshop glows into being. Racks, space and parts lockers ping their content lists while Tael pushes a new pech'caffe dispenser into place. The silicon feet skreeking across the study bench surface. Whincing but perservering, he settles it into a position he likes; then swipes the device on and to max shot level.
"Right, let's get stuck in." he mutters, sliding a finger across a forearm bracer.
A flight of maintenance drones and general cleaning units flit in behind and begin the work of readiying the space anew. Shuffling, waxing, vacuuming and spritzing of cleaning fluids abound.
Meanwhile Tael watches the temp readout climb, popping his lips in thought as he awaits his proferred mug to be filled. He spots a piece of packing film still stuck in the devices' seamline; it draws in his attention, picking at it and pulling it away carefully occupies much of his focus amidst a hive of activity.
A chime sounds, which keeps Tael's attention from the drones hovering in a line; proud children before their creator. Behind the gathered flock of artifical helpers is a gleaming work area .
"Perfect." the fio utters on feeling his mug begin to fill.
The gathered vesa exchange millisecond wifi glances and shrugs, furtively unsure if O'Tael has noted their efforts.
With practised poise and deft motions, he lifts the mug to his lips, savouring the scent and then the velvety bitter flavour with a slight cocoa overtone. His body lifts, eyes gain that modellers focus and his face tingles ever so slightly.
Drawing the mug down to chest height, Tael finally takes in the drones before him, nodding happily at their work. So much effort intiating a room these days. He draws another sip of the brew.
A near audible chittering of pleasure arises from the flock to be cut short as they note he is about to proclamate another statement.
"..I have an idea."
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