019 ☣ Open!

[Public Spam]

[She works with her hands a lot, now that she's in the maintenance crew. But there's a difference between fixing things and making things, and her occasional forays into invention in Aeris Navem left her itching to create again. Rather than indulging her inner engineer - who has a tendency to slide a little too easily from 'productive' to 'pragmatic' to 'paranoid' - Anya has her knitting bag out again, clacking plastic needles and all. She sets up in a common room, listening to conversation and people watching comfortably.

She's into her second skein when she abruptly realizes the design she's been replicating on some subconscious impulse: a dark blue and charcoal grey sweater with a herringbone pattern, subtle night camouflage for Cassel the cat burglar on nights when frigid high-altitude winds sliced through the floating city like razorwire. She groans heavily and flings her ball of yarn across the room in moment of pique. Which is a terrible idea, because now she has to collect and rewind the damn thing.]


( confidential to Erik, Lua, and Alex )