Post by Art Doyle on Dec 24, 2010 23:26:13 GMT -5
they shine like.. little angels
It had to be pretty late in the night. Too late to be up, really. But, it was something that, even if no mice were stirring (though if there were vermin on the ship, that wouldn't be good), the resident mechanic was. Arthur Doyle was used to sleeping odd hours. Not just with keeping an eye on an engine. Before the Trinity, before all this. Well, let's just say he was doing worse work at terrible hours. All that aside, though, Art was doing some good. Something small, but cheerful? Yeah, let's go with cheerful. He'd be the one for quiet little niceties.
The majority of his day had been spent either outside the ship in whatever port they were currently parked, or in the engine room. Not exactly tending to the pretty lady he was flying in, but she was always in tip-top shape. Clean bill of health, if you will. Nope. He was up to something. Suspicious, you might say. Sometimes you'd hear a jaunty whistle to the old radio wired up inside there. Almost like it used to be in that old workshop all those years ago.
Art shook off the nostalgia quickly before it settled in.
When he finally emerged from the engine room, there was a tangle of wires in his hands. He'd go to the kitchen and the living area, and throughout them those wires would be installed. All over the place, though it was too dim to see what he was up to. Just the small light of a pen-sized torch in his mouth as he worked.
Finishing the task came as a relief, and Art dusted his hands off in triumph. A hand reached down to the socket where the wires started, and he'd flick the switch with a deft trigger finger.
Tiny lights lit up all over the place, lining the walls and creating the feeling as though the place was filled with stars. A smirk and a nod at his work, and Art turned about, heading off down towards his bunk.
Just adding a little cheer to the place.
