Let it go, let it go...

[vata]

Who: Sombra and Gabrielito
When: July 7th
Where: Talon Nest
What: the continuing saga of two spooky ghosts
Warnings: NA

[It's so cold she can feel her teeth whenever she goes outside. Her teeth. Of all the things that she never wanted to consciously feel inside her own mouth, teeth rank fairly high on the list. Mostly because between that and the exposed metal of her ports and circuitry, it's giving her the world's most nightmarish headache.

Huddled under a blanket, wrapped up like a neon depiction of a biblical figure— and shivering occasionally— Sombra stubbornly sticks to hard-wiring a nest of circuit boards resting on the floor in front of her.]

Ven aca ahora, I can't hold this thing steady on my own.

[Mostly because she can't feel her fingers well enough to know just how much pressure she's actually applying. Which means either she'll drop it, she'll break it, or she'll just burn herself trying to solder the last few wires in place.]

Comments

[tinkerhell]

[He isn't in the same room as her when she calls, but he comes in short order without much fanfare. The heat isn't a problem for him, in a constant state of decay. He almost welcomes it -- slows the process down, makes his skin (or what is left of it) itch a little less.

But he can respect his underling's need to keep warm. So, in a puff of smoke, he reforms beside her and observes what she is doing. His metal claws likely aren't suited for the job, so he pulls one of his gauntlets off to do her the favor she asks, pinching the board between two large and unmoving fingers, slightly paler for the current temperature.]

Is that what's taking so long?

[Almost disapproving, but not quite.]

[vata]

Not everybody can be like you and Amélie. [Said through her teeth as she shivers— an unfortunate side effect of dropping temperatures outside— something that absolutely kills the delivery on what'd otherwise be the start of a tepid jab. Which has her dropping the punch line entirely, forgetting it in favor of getting the last few wires fused in place without burning a hole into Gabe's thumb while he holds the board steady. A few seconds tick by...one...two....

And then with a sputtering start, the heavy-looking, briefcase-sized mashup of machinery sitting in front of her comes groaning to life: it sounds like an electric oven. Old and tired and so dated it probably needs to be put out of its misery.

But it's warm, that's all that matters.]

Yes— !!

[vata]

[Hope you didn't think that thing was meant to useful for you, Gabe...]