Merry takes her plans, and other info on rigging and heads over to Spinle's room. The piskey knocks on the door and waits for him bouncing from one foot to the other.
From Merry's point of view, several seconds pass. The floor beneath her feet seems to vibrate suddenly. When the door opens, Spindle stands there, sweating slightly in an oversized t-shirt that hangs on him like a tent.
"Hey, Merry. Sorry about the delay. Trying to pack all the motherfucking shit up for wroiking the move." The gawky little Nocker opens the door further to let her in. The room has been stripped bare again, everything pack into various toolboxes and the oversized footlocker. One of the larger toolboxes lies upsidedown on the floor, an assortment of wrenches scattered about it; at a rough guess, it must have slipped off the bed and crashed onto the floor.
Merry simes, "I wanted to know, well if you had the time with the move and everything, if you could maybe make something up for me. I want to start practicing my craft, but I need the rigging."
Merry starts to hand the nocker the pages, "I sent an email to someone I know at a circus, I'm sure if I don't have enough infomation, we can ask the riggers there." The piskey could not stop smiling, "I can't wait to work on the rigging..." You can almost see her twirling from a cord in the reflection of her eyes.
Comments 7
"Hey, Merry. Sorry about the delay. Trying to pack all the motherfucking shit up for wroiking the move." The gawky little Nocker opens the door further to let her in. The room has been stripped bare again, everything pack into various toolboxes and the oversized footlocker. One of the larger toolboxes lies upsidedown on the floor, an assortment of wrenches scattered about it; at a rough guess, it must have slipped off the bed and crashed onto the floor.
"Can I help you with something?"
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