turnsheet_bureau:6:community [Contagion]

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======Sparks======

=====Writeup=====


//Zap.//

Curses. A jolt of discomfort bordering on pain shoots up your fingers, jumping past your tool and into you. You shake your hand vigorously to get rid of the tingling while the Relic Seeker's right side tenses and twitches.

'Sorry... let me try something different.' you mutter under your breath. You're focused.

It's... strange. Like nothing you've seen before. Despite trying several times, you've made little progress. Nothing more than spasms and... glitches, from her description. Like on a computer screen from days long gone. You can't imagine it, not being able to trust your own eyes. Not in a profession like this. The Relic Seeker idly kicks the ground, losing you your train of thought. 'Have you had a chance to examine that schematic I showed you?'

'The cat? I have... it's difficult to decipher. I'm not quite sure what to make of it.' you reply. The schematic lies beside you, its paper worn and torn from the weather and the inexorable march of time. It happens, you suppose. A lot of stuff on the page is obscured because of it, annoyingly so. At her mention of it. you pull it back out. Most of it just looks like a mass of plates and gears to you. A very well-constructed and annotated mass of plates and gears, but a mass nonetheless. You need to see it //move// to make sense of it. You squint at it for a bit before you sigh and toss it away, returning to the mass of plates and gears in front of you. A poke, a prod, a tweak here and there. Some nods and noises of vague approval before--

//Zap.//

It's like the damn thing is taunting you at this point. It gives and slides, and you feel like you're making some modicum of progress before it lets its displeasure known. So does the Relic Seeker, spasming again with a groan. You wince and cringe - you feel like you'd have many more words for that sensation, few of them kind. Your attention is drawn back to the arm as it slides and clicks back into place. Moving... moving. Wait. You scramble for the blueprint again, holding it up to the arm. A mass of plates and gears. Moving in front of you. The Relic Seeker raises an eyebrow as you pore over the annotations. It makes sense. It actually makes sense. You turn back to the arm, a mass of plates and gears no longer. A wire there, to power a servo here, transferring force into this joint through that gear. You can see the thought behind the design. You allow yourself a smile.

'What are you grinning about, Juno? Is it possible you've actually found something?' she asks. You say nothing and plunge your tools back into the arm. In the right place at the right time, the tools turn the arm to putty in your hands for you to mould and alter as you please. Panels open up, wires disconnect, screws loosen as you find each little mechanism. This thing has taken a beating, that's for sure. But you know how to fix it. There's no instructions, obviously, but you see it, how everything fits into place. Work with mechanical components long enough, and you figure out the patterns. Not too long after, you flick the last panel closed, finally flipping up your welding mask. A grin plasters your face - it hurts slightly. You're not used to smiling this wide. The Relic Seeker looks at you, surprised, but also breaks out into a smile. Not a sarcastic one, this time. This time, it's genuine. She wiggles her fingers experimentally.

'It... works.'

----

A few hours later, you're on the floor again, once more with the Relic Seeker beside you. She squints at the blueprint, at her arm, and then at the mass of metal in your hands. 'No, no, I think that's supposed to connect like that, see?' They gesture at their arm, then at the gears in your hand. You're cutting things close - there's not many materials left, but you're fine with spending what little you have on this. It'll be worth it. A few more wires go in, a few more pieces of metal go out and around. It starts to take shape. It doesn't need to be very complex, thank the stars - you're low on materials and scrap as is. A wedge will do. It just needs to move and actuate correctly, and bear weight. That's it. After several, several attempts... it looks decent. It moves alright in your hands. Only thing left is to try it. Hope it interfaces correctly with the nerves and whatnot. 

The Relic Seeker backs up as you take off your dressings and sigh, wincing in preparation as you insert your stump into the prosthetic. You feel it tighten and clamp around you, thin wires and rods jutting in and combining the two pieces into a whole again. The feeling doesn't get less awkward no matter how many attempts you try. The Relic Seeker holds out a hand, and you try to stand. Your ordinary leg is fine, but you allow yourself an inhale as you prepare to step down on your new foot. Several failures preceded this attempt, so your hope is running a little thin. But you step down, and the metal groans slightly. But it doesn't buckle, it holds. You try to roll your ankle and it works. Steps - no problem. With each successful test, you both beam more and more, until you have no more tests left and one new foot.

{[]}{{tag>writeup6 gm_alyssa complete}}