[PRP] Stitches and Scars (Christof/Amrita)

[Enoh Love]

Amrita returned from her two-week trip with a bounce to her step. It had been eye opening for her to see the world outside of Amityville, and to see it with the confident eyes she didn't have when she first left home as a child. Even if she had confirmation of a horrible truth, she was still in too good a mood to dwell on that.

She had gotten to see towns and peoples that were worlds different than what she was used to, and her other self had gotten to deal with Hel in all her glory. It was a great few weeks.

The patchwork still wore the same outfit she had when she took off weeks ago; the burnt orange tank top under a dull yellow jacket, with dark brown capris that ended at her shins. The only unmatching part of her outfit was the goofy pink angler hat she wore on her head. It looked silly, but she loved it.

She had been on her way back to the Undead Dorms when she heard it, the familiar rumble she hadn't heard in what felt like years. The Vetala slowed her steps, her head tilting as if trying to hear it better. It couldn't be...could it? Chopper? Christof?

Turning on her heel, she adjusted her course, now heading towards the tomb-like garage she had visited a handful of times before but had never forgotten. The old engine continued to putter and growl, familiar enough to tug at her feelings of nostalgia, and got louder as she approached. Sneaking into the garage had been easy, but getting up the courage to call out to the Igor was not. So much had happened, so much time had passed, and though she wanted to, she couldn't.

So she settled for watching him work, staying quietly off to the side just inside the doors.

bilious

 

[Bilious]

Christof grunted, winced, and snarled as the hodgepodge motorcycle creature revved and snarled back under his wrench. He HAD tried to turn the blasted thing off, but it refused to sleep as he did his maintenance. That was Fear for you, he supposed. The darn thing had sprung a leak on his last trip- no where in particular. On some lonely afternoons he just liked going for a ride as far as he could stand to go. Sometimes he found old cemeteries, which was nice. Sometimes he'd run by the junk yards. Sometimes he'd just find a field and let Chopper zoom about freely as he stared up at the stormy clouds and thought at great lengths, debating coming back to school at all.

But no, no matter where he went... his Master would find him. His future was inevitable. The best he could do was take things day by day. This included attempting to mend an irate motorcycle, despite it's protests.

With a grunt and a clang, he smacked the thing on the handlebar with a wrench, hoping that would quiet him down. To his surprise, it did quiet immediately, but that was soon replaced by a low growling rumble of warning. Brows knit, he glanced to where the bike's headlights flickered, flinching back into the crypt-garage like a spotted raccoon. It took him a moment to recognize the shadow.

The wrench was lowered, his expression softening immediately. "Hurr?"

Enoh Love

 

[Enoh Love]

Oops. She'd been spotted.

Amrita only smiled at him at first, standing awkwardly just to the right inside the doors. The area was mostly cast in shadows, save for the times when Chopper's headlights flooded over her. When she did move it was to reach up, grabbing the front of her angler's hat to pull it off of her head, leaving some strands in disarray as they pulled from her braid.

"Hey, Christof." She said softly, with a small smile on what was left of her lips. "I thought I heard Chopper, so I figured maybe..." Maybe he'd be there, maybe she could say hi, maybe...well, she didn't know. Black hands gripped her hat, and soon she was busying herself with stuffing it into her shoulder bag as a means of momentary distraction.

Once that was done, she really had no other excuse. She stared at him for a moment, and then allowed her gaze to drift towards the angry motorcycle. Hopefully, if she didn't make sudden movements, it would be okay, right?

"So...is he broken?" She asked conversationally, taking a careful step forward and into more stable light. Enough to see that the patchwork body was still the one he had built, save for some new scars and stitches - more notably across her throat, as if it had been slashed (which now made a twisted cross at her neck), and of course her hands and feet which, while still backwards, were black. The colour was solid until it disappeared under her clothing.

"He seems as loud as ever." She continued on, shouldering her bag so she could clasp her hands behind her back.
 

[Bilious]

The silly hat did not go unnoticed, and Christof raised an eyebrow as for the briefest of moments, a rare sight occurred- the corners of his mouth twitching up into a smile. He glanced down, pretending he hadn't seen it for now as he nodded, pointing to the trail of leaking oil the disgruntled contraption was leaving, and gave a frustrated sigh.

'Will-not-stay-still. Needs-new-hose.' He signed, before shaking the spare part at her in his frustration.  

[Enoh Love]

"Maybe I could try?" She suggested, naturally not meaning to help him install the new part. While she was getting pretty decent at patching herself up, she highly doubted the skill was transferable. Especially to a great machine like Chopper. Since she was pretty insistent on helping, she was already in the process of putting her bag down, leaving it where it sat on the dirty floor.

Instead of waiting for permission, she started to carefully move towards the motorcycle, hands out to show she meant no harm.

"Heeeey there, buddy. Been a while, yeah?" The patchwork coo'd to the machine while she reached out, trying to pat it with her black hands.  

[Bilious]

The beastly machine revved it's engine warily, headlight flickering as it regarded her- yes, it remembered, as much as a machine could remember- wild rides with her and his master on it's back, flying through the night and over hills. Good times, yes. Running free in the fields as the two of them did whatever it was young Beings did alone with a picnic basket. Things that did not interest motorcycles one bit. Even so, the engine snarls soon turned into a purr, rolling forward ever so slightly to push it's horn-like handlebars into her black grip.

While she had the thing distracted, at least, Christof was able to lunge in to loosen the problematic hose as quick as he could before it knew what he was doing.  

[Enoh Love]

"What a good boy!" The Patchwork keened in delight when Chopper caved, scratching the handles like she did with DC - except with DC, she always wore fireproof gloves. "So handsome~" She continued, leaning down to lightly headbutt the thing, a small playful move placed gently between the handlebars. "Soon, you'll be all fixed up and you can go motoring about again, good as new!" Well, new-ish, considering it was a beast likely made from old parts.