This Place About To Blow. ([Yuck. Pop] Open!)
Sept 26, 2011 20:36:07 GMT -5
Post by misshelicopter1 on Sept 26, 2011 20:36:07 GMT -5
Wire seventeen to wire twelve.
Got it.
Outer shell.
Got it? Yes. Got it.
Reynie set the last tool down and brushed her hands together, taking a few steps back to admire her handy work. Flora coughed. "Nice." Reynie blinked and removed the goggles from her face. "I guess. You taking this to the pile?"
The pile. Short hand for where all the war gear they made went before being shipped off to the capitol.
With a sigh, Flora gingerly lifted the bomb off the work bench and scooted down the metal plated hall.
Reynie listened to her footsteps fade. Flora, Reynie's older sister, was the one sibling she had that actually gave a crap about her. Flora was tall and slender and graceful, with their mother's sandy blonde hair and their father's icy blue eyes, flecked with purple. Her looks made her capitol gold, but she instead chose to stay here in District three with the family.
Reynie reached a skinny hand up and neatly tied her long, stringy black hair into a messy bun. Her amber gaze wandered to her other pale, awkward hand, and she felt like crawling into a corner. No matter how smart she was, she had no future.
She had plans to leave District three. One day. When, she wasn't really sure. With who? No answer either. But she swore to herself. Some day.
She checked the clock, and happily found that her shift was up. Even though she was only seventeen, she worked a four shifts a week making bombs, and two shifts a week working on various other electronic devices. Her boot clad steps echoed as she exited the building and quickly found herself outdoors.
Got it.
Outer shell.
Got it? Yes. Got it.
Reynie set the last tool down and brushed her hands together, taking a few steps back to admire her handy work. Flora coughed. "Nice." Reynie blinked and removed the goggles from her face. "I guess. You taking this to the pile?"
The pile. Short hand for where all the war gear they made went before being shipped off to the capitol.
With a sigh, Flora gingerly lifted the bomb off the work bench and scooted down the metal plated hall.
Reynie listened to her footsteps fade. Flora, Reynie's older sister, was the one sibling she had that actually gave a crap about her. Flora was tall and slender and graceful, with their mother's sandy blonde hair and their father's icy blue eyes, flecked with purple. Her looks made her capitol gold, but she instead chose to stay here in District three with the family.
Reynie reached a skinny hand up and neatly tied her long, stringy black hair into a messy bun. Her amber gaze wandered to her other pale, awkward hand, and she felt like crawling into a corner. No matter how smart she was, she had no future.
She had plans to leave District three. One day. When, she wasn't really sure. With who? No answer either. But she swore to herself. Some day.
She checked the clock, and happily found that her shift was up. Even though she was only seventeen, she worked a four shifts a week making bombs, and two shifts a week working on various other electronic devices. Her boot clad steps echoed as she exited the building and quickly found herself outdoors.
