[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/hJCMfyg.png[/img][/center]
[center][color=seagreen][h2]August 17th, 2024[/h2][/color][/center]

[color=gray]"[color=pink]Ow,[/color]" Tawny whimpered.  Seated on a bench inside of a room that looked more like a conservatory than a workshop, the teenager couldn’t help but hiss as two small hands moved a screwdriver to tighten one of the plates on her augmented arm.  “[color=pink]I can feel that, doc.[/color]”

“[color=burlywood]I’m sorry, Tawny.  These screws are starting to strip because I’ve had to adjust them, so I’ll need to find replacements.  You’re an inch taller than you were when I made them, I’ll have to build new ones soon or rebuild these so you don’t end up with gait issues.[/color]” The reply came from Doctor Taylor as she examined the metal bits and bobs, including the wiring that was beginning to age from the weather, sun, and water.  Sighing softly, the tiny woman put the tool into her leather apron that had definitely been seeing better days.  “[color=burlywood]Move that arm for me and see if it feels better.[/color]”

The teenager obeyed, flexing the metal limb that started a few inches above her elbow.  Rotating her wrist and opening and closing the elbow, fingers formed fists and loosened a few times.  “[color=pink]It feels a little better, but still kind of loose, cher.  It will hold for a little while… [i]j'espère[/i]; long enough to find replacements.[/color]” Tawny’s accent was thicker when she was in pain, like now.  The limb felt, to her nerves, like it was injured as an organic one would - and thus, it was stronger now.  Her Cajun heritage was pronounced in speech and cooking, but the girl had always made sure people were fed.

Doctor Taylor sighed, turning her attention to the girl’s exposed leg now.  Unlike her arm, Tawny likely could have had a ‘normal’ prosthetic on that limb, but it would have required replacement at the same rate as the other limb as the blonde grew into herself.  Thankfully, lengthening some of the hydraulics had kept major repair at bay so far.  “[color=burlywood]This looks good, though.  I don’t see any rust or major issues despite you going in the woods and water.[/color]” 

Nodding, Tawny rose to her feet and pulled on the worn jeans that had been removed for her inspection.  “[color=pink]I keep it oiled as best I can, but we’re runnin’ low.[/color]”  Jumping and shifting within the cotton denim worn thankfully thin, it helped negate some of the summer heat outside.

“[color=burlywood]I’ll ask Freya if she’s willing to go on a run.  I know there was an auto repair shop a couple miles down the road that should have everything we need for your augments.[/color]” Doctor Taylor responded, watching carefully to see how Tawny was moving.  Unlike a year and a half ago, there was no awkward leaning or shifting and no visible pain as the teenager moved.  Likewise, as she pulled on and buttoned up a linen shirt and bent to put on worn boots, nothing seemed amiss.

“[color=burlywood]Any issues with the dexterity in your arm, or just the feeling like your joints are loose?[/color]” She needed to confirm.

“[color=pink]I managed to braid my hair last night, it just felt… bizarre.  Like I wasn’t able to grip sometimes.[/color]” Tawny answered, earning a nod from the good doctor.  “[color=pink]I would like to get this fixed before shearin’ starts.  I have to do it [i]manuellement[/i] and need to be able to grip.[/color]”

Doctor Taylor sighed at the thought.  Everything was always a deadline, and there never seemed to be enough time to do any of it.  Vaccine research, maintaining the augments, acting as sort of a medical doctor with the help of far too many textbooks, and more.  She needed help like she needed oxygen, but luck had never been something Cassidy had ever been acquainted with.  Before the Fall, it would have been easy to find an assistant - people would have lined up for it.  Now, they were lucky if they had enough people to assure food and safety at times.

Tawny left after that, allowing Taylor to sit in silence on her metal rolling bench as she had countless times before.  It took the redhead a moment to rise to her feet, allowing well-worn Vans to grip the flooring that needed a good sweep.  This area of the old pharmacy she had taken over could afford to be a little dirty, unlike the area scrubbed regularly with soap and vinegar actually used for research.

Trekking across the tiles to the door, it was opened into the small little town that made up home.  Camp Hope Light was really just a name, really - it was a small town that had been surrounded by high walls, the group members taking shifts guarding it that were able to use weapons.  Taylor was not among them, far more into hiding than confrontation, but it brought comfort to see patrols happening along the top of walls.

Warm brown eyes glanced up, looking at an old water tower that served now as a vantage point for those on patrol.  On top of it sat a figure that she had come to know semi-well after the last six months: Eden.  The tall, fit woman was dressed in a white tank top and black cargo pants with combat boots gripping the rusting metal.  Forever watching, Eden had often been referred to (and had called herself) a guard dog in a human-like body.  “[color=burlywood]Eden![/color]”

Violet eyes turned from the landscape of the sea to look down, tilting her head in response.  Eden was a woman of very few words.

“[color=burlywood]Have you seen Freya!?[/color]” The doctor inquired.

A shake of Eden’s head answered her.

“[color=burlywood]When you see her, please let her know I need her to do a supply run for the augments![/color]”

Eden nodded, turning herself back to watching.  After being locked up as long as she had, the ‘young’ woman seemed to enjoy the sea and forests a bit too much.  It was beautiful and serene when there was no Damned to be found.

Doctor Taylor shook her head, turning back to head into her workshop to get a bit more done before Tawny would surely have some dinner waiting for them.[/color]