no problems !

sorry for my absence (on this blog mostly, though i’ve been scarce on my other, if i’m being honest). i work monday-thursday, and usually get a lot of writing done then (don’t ask, lmao), so i’m pretty tired in the evenings. i should’ve mentioned that early on! i’m around now, though. 

@heckwrench​ liked for a canon dialogue starter

“Haha! There you go! Big guy with a bat! Who needs keys, right?”

She’s pretty sure her laptop shouldn’t be making that sound: a sort of violent whirring that only abates when she claps the whole thing shut. Gadget glances around the sparsely populated café, ears canted down, just to make sure no one’s watching when she pulls it open again to take a peek. The whirring starts up again, the screen winking blue. Well, that’s new. 

“Alrighty, two can play that game,” she murmurs at it, sitting up to dig a multi-tool from her pocket. It’s not her laptop, it’s borrowed, so she really shouldn’t, but it’s been needing a good repair for ages, and sometimes you just have to do it yourself. 

They must be backed up. There hasn’t been a break in the static drone of machinery on the other side of the door leading out to the garage (she’d peeked through the bent and broken blinds) since she came in. Gadget’s been sitting on the edge of the waiting room’s too-squishy couches for--...well, long enough to anxiously hum her way through Ring of Fire nine times or so. She’s not sure.

She’s half singing Jackson under her breath, wondering if she should concede defeat, when the door flies open, startling her. She’s on her feet in an instant, scrambling onto the arm of the couch for vantage.

“Hi! Hi, I’m Gadget-- Gadget Hackwrench, and--golly, I been waiting here for a while and I was just thinking, maybe I should-- ...” Uncle Monty’s in her ear again, ease up, love, you’re gettin’ squirrely. She squares her shoulders, takes a deep breath, tries again. “I’m looking for a job!” 

ME: *sits down to work on starters*

“I’m one step ahead of you, Dale!” Gadget flourishes what looks like a haphazardly crafted blowtorch--the popcorn might be a little toastier than usual--before stowing it away so she can push up the quilted entrance of the fort. “I managed to snag some Cheetos, too.” She lowers her voice to a stage whisper. “Help me eat ‘em before Monty gets back, okay?” 

She rearranges a couple of cushions before crawling inside. Her smile is fond, even if she does roll her eyes. “I’m not making that sign, though.”