Habits

The Golden Armory of Cornelius Coot

By my standards, it was a relatively normal day. Almost a bit too normal.

It was quiet in the mansion, besides the sound of Ms. Beakley in the kitchen, and whatever ghostly task Duckworth had been put up to. Which was actually quite good, for me at least. I had a nice, quiet breakfast, shared a 'cuppa' with Ms. Beakley (British people are so weird with their linguistic differences,) took a nice, hot shower and got ready without a hitch.

I had on my signature tank top and jeans, with my coveralls in hand, as I made my way downstairs and to the side of the manor, to the plane hangar. Of course, it was at this time that the ground shook and I heard a loud crash. Ah. There it is.

I hurried into the hangar, and quickly put on my coveralls, grabbing gloves, my toolbox, and my first aid kit. There's no telling what kind of crash Launchpad had, and I didn't want to take any chances.

I exited the hangar, my stuff in hand.

"LP?" I tentatively called, "Are you okay?"

I heard some rustling, and turned to see Launchpad roll out of some bushes, rubbing his head. I approached him, and he looked up at me, before greeting me with a smile.

"Hey Marina!"

I shook my head. "Oh, LP, whatever happened to touching up the plane?"

He thought for a moment. "Well, now we can multitask!"

I rolled my eyes at that. He had a point. "Alright, well at least let me check your head before we get started."

He let me examine him, and after I checked, I confirmed that whilst he was a bit disoriented, he's no worse off than he's been before. So we got started on the plane.

I brought my stuff back into the hangar, putting the first aid kit back, and disposing of my gloves. I washed my hands, and properly tied my hair up. Then, I put my working gloves on, and went back to help LP.

~~~

I laid on the creeper seat at an awkward angle, working on some wiring outside of the plane when I heard someone enter from the other side of the hangar.

"Where's my plane?!"

Oh. Fun.

I gritted my teeth, but tried to focus on the task at hand.

"Right here Ms. D!" LP answered cheerfully, opening the garage door for her. I scooted down on the creeper, sitting up.

Mom... did not look happy.

"And there... and a bit over there," LP told her.

"What are you doing?!" She all but squawked, approaching us.

I stared at her, plainly. or plane-ly. "Fixing the plane," I answered, semi-enjoying the way her face contorted into anger.

"Don't worry," Launchpad assured, "The sunchaser has been through way worse than this."

She looked up at her plane in horror. "It... has?"

"Yeah, we've been through hundreds, maybe thousands of crashes together. If this old girl could talk," LP sat in the nearby pilot's seat and leaned back, closing his eyes.

This, of course, did not calm Mom down at all. In fact, she looked ready to burst a blood vessel. She looked to me for an explanation, and I scrunched up my face in confusion. What did she want me to say? I was just here to help Launchpad, I don't even like being on the plane half the time.

She glared at Launchpad, picking up the yoke of the plane and lifting it above his head, as if to knock him out. I gave her a skeptical look, and she dropped the yoke, taking a deep breath.