Dec. 3rd, 2009

metharchy: (Cold hard cement)
[ OOC: The following open-comment log has been written in third person, as this is not a communicator-post. Please feel free to interrupt what she's doing, in comment-log style, or third, whichever you please. <3 ]

It had been weeks since Meth had completed rebuilding the temple on deck thirteen. She hadn't been back since, instead occupying herself with minor repairs around the ship. On any other day off, she might have kept to herself in the tree house on deck three, but today wasn't a typical day off for Meth.

Her steps were slow and even as she walked across the field of flowers, and in her hands, Meth carried two oversized tote bags, filled to capacity. On her off days, Meth was usually still in work clothes of some variety. She liked to carry small tools with her on the off chance she saw something small that needed fixing. Today, however, her usual garb had been replaced with something quite different. The voluminous pants she wore were made of a thick blue linen that cut short at her calves, and her sleeveless shirt swept across her chest to close in clasps down her side. Instead of heavy work boots, she wore simple flat sandals, leaving her bare feet to be tickled by the flowers as she made her way across the field.

At the entrance of the temple, Meth paused to set her bags down. She looked inside with her expression a mixture of solemnity and apprehension, and with a deep breath, stepped inside to begin.

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Meth Rezza

February 2020

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