Ah, my second Christmas in Purgatorium. My second one ever, actually. I 'member how much fun I had last year, picking out presents and stuff. I think I still have some of those little machina around somewhere...

No, I gotta make them better this year. Way, way better.

In other news, I think I need to reorganize the kynyka. Things are getting maybe a little too messy for me. Surprising, I know. But it's true. So I'll work on that.

Right after I fix up this aqbmuceja~

[thunder and rain are clearly audible. her gasping breaths come at irregular intervals. sniffles, a few stifled sobs. thunder booms, and she screams. the recording is cut now and then by static, making all of it hard to understand. her voice is distressed, frightened, panicked, etc.]

Can't—hufrana du ku—need to—

[more thunder, and she screams again. a dull thump as she falls to the ground, and a sort of scrabbling sound as she crawls across the floor. she begins sobbing for real, and her words are strangled and almost whispered, muffled by some sort of cloth—a blanket, specifically.]

Syga ed cdub. Make it—make it—I don't want to hear it. Tuh'd fyhd du caa—tuh'd fyhd du drehg.

And all of them—dra aqbmuceuh—

[she continues mumbling inaudibly. the recording eventually cuts to full static.]

[ooc; I KNOW THIS IS EARLY but I don't know how much time I'll have online tomorrow, and I wanted to get this posted. :')]

Hm. I don't think a toaster oven is supposed to sound like that.

...

...

Cred.

Note to self; Never, ever, ever try to mix grenades and ethers while in an enclosed area. It will end badly.

... Okay. Listen up.

That bomb was not my fault. I had nothing to do with it.

I was home the entire time. ... Except for maybe five minutes, but I was burying things in the backyard. I was nowhere near the forest.

So anyone who was even thinking about blaming me... don't. ♥

Well, uhm. Yea.

I think I'm gonna go check out the blast area~

... Well. That's an experience I never want to repeat.

Right, work to do, things to blow up. Hope everyone else is back to normal. Or as normal as anyone around here gets, anyways~

Jeeze, everyone's all up in a hissy fit because of some blue-haired girl spreading rumors? Maybe she's part Hypello - Shiva knows they love their gossip.

Anyways. Stuff to build, things to blow up. Probably won't be around much for a few days~

Note to self.

Putting a metal spoon in a microwave is not a good idea. Thanks for that one, Claire.

... Caluht huda du camv.

Crnybham rindc mega y pedlr.

(OOC; Strike private//unhackable to Claire + her man army. ;D)

[Begin Recording]

(Classic chemistry sounds; bubbling liquids, hissing of a bunsen burner, clinking of glass. When she starts speaking, her voice is obviously muffled by something, and her breathing can be clearly heard going through some sort of filter.)

Y'know, I've always wanted to do something like this. (Breath.) Pops never let me, though. Said it wasn't really my thing. (Breath.) He was wrong, of course. We're not just mechanics, we Al Bhed - we're alchemists too, among other professions. (Breath.)

... Tysh.

(More glass-on-glass as she puts down whatever she was holding, and then the sound of buckles being released and undone. A sort of sucking sound, and then she takes a deep breath.)

No wonder Gippal hated wearing that gasmask when we were kids. They're so annoying. Sure, my lungs won't be clogged with Shiva knows what, but my face is... ugh.

(Al Bhed muttering, and then an abrupt pause. Glass-on-metal as a test tube or whatever starts trembling in its holder.)

... Cred. That wasn't supposed to--

(Sizzling, a rather loud "Fuck!" and then an explosion. The recording cuts out as the terminal is destroyed.)

[End Recording]

[Begin Recording]

(Clinking of metal on metal. Obviously, she's in the garage, working on... something. ... Let's say a bomb - she likes bombs. Doesn't everyone like bombs? Anyway. When her voice comes in, it's thoughtful.)

Y'know, lately I've been thinkin'. And I--

. . .

I set myself up for that one. Perfect.

Anyway. I've been thinkin'. And I've come to the decision that boys are stupid. Not stupid-stupid, but common sense-stupid. Seriously, I've been watching them - mostly Gippal - and some of the things they do are just plain eteudel. Shiva, you'd think that the knaycasuhgao would've learned that a seven inch stroke does not mean the intake will work and the piston will fall like it's supposed to. He’s too full of himself like that.

(Pause, metal hitting concrete as she drops a tool, and a few muttered curses in Al Bhed before she speaks up again.)

And that rubber seal he insists on using with the cylinder? Not gonna do a thing for the machina, nope. If the piston slides into the cylinder too fast, then the machina's gonna break some day. Sure, it'll go in rough without the seal, but that's the point. Build up the machina's resistance, y'know?

(Another pause, and then a sigh.)

I gotta find some other way to occupy myself. People-watching isn't always a great thing, 'specially when you're really good at it.

(More metal-on-metal, and then she curses very, very loudly. Recording cuts out on its own, but not before there's the crackling and sizzling of a burned wire.)

[End Recording]

(OOC; Shilobaby, I did this one just for you. ♥)