Post by Lámh Dhearg Manaan on Jul 29, 2024 15:21:29 GMT -8
So, there Copilot sat, staring at the scene around him, jaw hanging agape, eyes a bottomless void. A rumbling rode up from his stomach, at long last exiting through open mouth in a hearty burp. Shamelessly the man smiled, then turning a bottle to lips and slamming back a drink. With a sigh he continued his lonely staring. Feeling the mood of his comrade, Pilot, at that moment nursing a bottle of his own, spoke -Pilot- “Go easy on yourself, a chara, for the day has only begun for us….” Both men took another pull from their bottles then returning to staring pointlessly at absolutely nothing, hopelessly hoping…. Meanwhile, the crew of robust Togorians busily set about maintenance of their vessel, The Fart in a Windstorm