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- [YOU'VE SEEN THE IMAGE HAVEN'T YOU? I'LL POST IT WITH THIS LINK. THIS IS DIRECTLY AFTER THAT DAY. THAT NIGHT. WHATEVER YOU WANT TO CALL IT.]
- It's probably best described as ecstasy. That's what any learned individual would call it anyway. Rumble wasn't exactly learned. He was handy. An intelligent engineer. Not a wordsmith though. So perhaps that why he settled for such simple language when recalling his morning.
- “Wow.”
- He was roused by light pouring into his cluttered and dusty room, littered with machine parts, blueprints, prototypes, tools – everything anyone that knew him even a little would expect. He rubbed his eyes blearily and rolled away from the light filtering through ragged blinds. He caught his shout of surprise in his throat, choking it down and turning it successfully into a loud, strangled cough.
- Tristana opened her eyes slowly, and gave Rumble a confused gaze. A delicate hand reached up and rubbed an eye sleepily. “What's wrong Rumble?” He swallowed hard and shook his head in response.
- “N-nothing. Nothing Tristy, I just, uh...” He sat up in bed somewhat and gave the room a more alert once-over. Articles of clothing hung from the miscellanea in his room, and tucked away in the corner was Boomer. He slumped back into his pillow and furrowed his brow. Slowly, a stupid grin spread across his face and he let out a small laugh.
- Trist gave him a knowing grin and laid her head on his chest. “You forgot everything about last night until just now, didn't you?” Rumble scratched his cheek in mild embarrassment. “Hah! I knew it, you did!” She reached up and flicked his nose.
- Rumble laughed and moved to get out of bed. “Whatever, whatever, whaddya want for breakfast?” His tone was his best attempt at remaining cool. It wasn't a very good one. He scrounged about the ground for his pants and when he at last found them added, “I think I've got Bandlecake mix somewhere...”
- Tristana sat up in bed, an arm clutching sheets to her chest as she watched Rumble look for his clothes. A naughty idea struck her and so with a dirty grin and nonchalant air she said, “Bandlecakes and you both sound good.” Rumble looked at her immediately, dumbstruck. She let the sheets fall from her chest. In a silkier voice she added, “What?”
- “Does it matter what order?” he asked in gleeful disbelief.
- Trist bit her lip. “No.”
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