Post by Celerous on Nov 23, 2022 20:07:30 GMT -5
Snow had come to the Spinach Wastes, blanketing the farm Celerous called home in a thick layer of white. During these cold months, the farm was mostly barren, save for a field of kale and spinach. Even so, the workload wasn't lightened by much. Winter was not a time filled with tilling, sowing, growing, or harvesting. But that was what made it a perfect time for maintenance. Cel had a fence line that needed refencing, a barn that needed to be reroofed, a silo that was missing side panels, and a frustratingly old tractor with a bad carburetor.
At the current moment, he was out in the field, dealing with that very tractor.
The damn thing was ancient, which was obvious by the fact that it used a carburetor at all, and not fuel injectors like any modern day vehicle. And because it was ancient, a lot of younger mechanics didn't really know how to fix one or build a new one, and the older mechanics who did wanted nothing to do with it. Well, Celerous didn't want anything to do with it either, but he wouldn't be able to till the fields after they thawed without it.
So here he was, out in the cold in his jeans and flannel, toying with the removed carburetor he barely understood.
"One of these days," he cursed under his breath, "I'm going to convince Ma to just buy a new tractor. Maybe one that's actually enclosed."
He was frustrated, but despite that, today almost seemed like a respite to the young hybrid. His days lately had been frantic at best, now that he'd founded a non-profit. He'd known that running the Crisis Response Team would be hard work. Working out the logistics of a humanitarian aid organization often required long nights, and a lot of paperwork and phone calls. Working out the logistics of Task Force Shield required that and even more.
He still hadn't gotten very far on that last one. It was still just Glainne and himself, officially. Plus that kid Zain, though Cel hadn't actually sat down and ironed out the details with the young boy. He wasn't entirely sure that he even should. Yes, Zain was more powerful that most people in the galaxy, but he was still just a child.
A child that could destroy a planet, to be sure, but still a child. There was a serious moral quandary to be considered, in asking him to join the Task Force.
Celerous sighed. Some days he really missed when he'd been nothing more than a farmer with wanderlust. Then he looked back down at the stupid carburetor in his hands, and realized that maybe he didn't miss everything.
At the current moment, he was out in the field, dealing with that very tractor.
The damn thing was ancient, which was obvious by the fact that it used a carburetor at all, and not fuel injectors like any modern day vehicle. And because it was ancient, a lot of younger mechanics didn't really know how to fix one or build a new one, and the older mechanics who did wanted nothing to do with it. Well, Celerous didn't want anything to do with it either, but he wouldn't be able to till the fields after they thawed without it.
So here he was, out in the cold in his jeans and flannel, toying with the removed carburetor he barely understood.
"One of these days," he cursed under his breath, "I'm going to convince Ma to just buy a new tractor. Maybe one that's actually enclosed."
He was frustrated, but despite that, today almost seemed like a respite to the young hybrid. His days lately had been frantic at best, now that he'd founded a non-profit. He'd known that running the Crisis Response Team would be hard work. Working out the logistics of a humanitarian aid organization often required long nights, and a lot of paperwork and phone calls. Working out the logistics of Task Force Shield required that and even more.
He still hadn't gotten very far on that last one. It was still just Glainne and himself, officially. Plus that kid Zain, though Cel hadn't actually sat down and ironed out the details with the young boy. He wasn't entirely sure that he even should. Yes, Zain was more powerful that most people in the galaxy, but he was still just a child.
A child that could destroy a planet, to be sure, but still a child. There was a serious moral quandary to be considered, in asking him to join the Task Force.
Celerous sighed. Some days he really missed when he'd been nothing more than a farmer with wanderlust. Then he looked back down at the stupid carburetor in his hands, and realized that maybe he didn't miss everything.
Thread PL: 80,000
WC: 451
TWC: 451
WC: 451
TWC: 451