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!u/EYfo0o8s 09/06/11(Tue)23:45 No.16210613Springer dismounts the Rig Cycle, removing her helmet and looking over the auto shop. It was a small, family owned buisiness, one of those places where the home was built right into the shop, so there was no commute. The mechanics were all part of the family here, and the sign is unmistakable: "Winters and Sons Auto Repairs." She unpacks the bouquet and starts making her way towards one of the open garage doors, where she can make out the forms of two mechanics working on a car. When she steps in, one of them speaks up, not looking away from the break pads he's installing. "Sorry, we're closing pretty soon. You'll have to come back-" He glances at Springer before stopping, recognizing her uniform as a Ragnyllian pilot suit. It's only then that Springer gets a good look at the man's face; he really just looks like an older, taller version of the Winters she knew. She pauses momentarily, almost taken aback, before speaking. "Is... are your parents here?" The man is silent for a moment before nodding. "Dad! Someone here to see you." "Tell 'em to wait, I got a job to-" "I think it's important, dad." Springer hears the sound of a ratchet stopping momentarily, then being removed and placed on the floor. A few seconds later, an older man, in his late fourties, weathered by years of hard work, approaches wordlessly. He looks at Springer as she tries to form words, but she can't seem to say exactly what needed to be said. She stops, seeing the grave look of understanding in the father's eyes. Her gaze drops, and she says the only words that could possibly feel appropriate in this situation. "... I'm sorry." |