Frost 3 4621¤
"You want me to do a what?"
Miki asked, looking the person in front of her up and down. He was a young man, barely eighteen, with a bright blonde mohawk. He was tall and lanky in dusty, ragged clothes. Behind him stood, barely, a ramshackle and dilapidated artificed robot who had seen better days.
"I am no artificer."
She told the boy squarely, his shoulders dropped and he looked defeated.
"Listen, you don't HAVE to be. I just want you to make me a few plates and spare parts, I can show you how."
A billow of steam came from the factory as Miki considered. How this kid even got in here was completely out of her realm of imagination, but she wasn't one to ask questions.
"You know I'm on the clock right, there are other people here who do this sort of work. I make chariot parts, not robotics."
