Home Sweet Home

[solar_flare]

The house that Yang and Mikaela shared wasn't too hard to find. It was the 'charming' little house, or 'rustic,' or 'quaint,' depending on who you talked to. Not quite as modern as the other marvelous automated villas, but certainly beyond anything the two girls had prior to setting foot on Genessia soil. Rather than call it the antique house on the block, Yang just told Blake to look for the one with 'BANES AUTO REPAIR' on the sign outside.

When all of Blake's belongings were packed and boxed up, they were loaded into a small half-trailer hitched to the back of Yang's motorcycle, and off she went. When moving boxes, especially those heavy with books, having someone with Yang's strength came in handy.

After everything was inside and the celebratory pizza ordered, Yang hovered outside of Blake's room with a half-consumed can of lemonade. There was still a lot of stuff to talk about, and she knew that wasn't exactly the Faunus's favorite thing in the world, so Yang tried to keep a respectful distance.

Tried.

Truth be told, she was kind of excited at the chance to spend time with her old Beacon partner, and she kept drifting back to debate whether or not she should let Blake unpack in peace, or barge into the room and talk all four of Blake's ears off. At least it wasn't just the two of them; Mikaela living there too seemed to melt away any heavy awkwardness. Who couldn't like the chipper mechanic? Yang was sure the two would get along great.

Yang poked her head around the corner, peeking in yet again, but this time didn't keep wandering to the end of the hallway. "Need any help?" she asked, before taking another pull from the can of lemonade.


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She had to admit: routine oil changes and maintenance on her bike was a lot easier when they lived above a mechanic's garage. Naturally she waited until after hours so she wouldn't get in her housemate's way or interfere with business. She sat on her heel with one knee up, loosening the bolt with her socket wrench until thick, used oil leaked and dribbled into the plastic drip pan. While she waited, she ran a cloth over the wrench to wipe away the oil splotches and scratched her nose.

Only then did she notice that there was oil staining her fingertips and under her nails. Tch... Sure enough, judging by the warped and stretched reflection of her face in the bike's chrome, she'd left a black smudge on her face. Wasn't the first either.

She chuckled quietly, distractedly humming along with the radio as she worked. "Time cast a spell on you, but you would not let meeee...follow you down...--no-- loved you but you would not let meeeee..."

Singing wasn't exactly Yang's talent. The song was still too new for her to have picked up the lyrics just yet.

Suddenly the music dimmed as a pleasant voice interrupted. "Visitor. Visitor. Visitor."

Yang looked up, her ponytail swaying with the motion, then rose to her feet and turned to the door to greet whoever it was that decided to drop in.