macs-garage

[macs-garage]

[There's a picture of what looks to be the back prep area of a bakery.

The walls are worn, their once delicately painted florals chipping away with the progression of time.

The countertops are worn, the wood beginning to darken with age, although some places are bright with new butcher's block.

All of it is covered in flour.

A young girl, maybe early preteens, grins up at the camera. Her long hair is braided into two loops behind her ears, her sleeveless turtleneck poking out from underneath a too-big apron.

Her eyes are bright, and her hands are deep in a bowl of batter. Baking sheets rest nearby, waiting to be used.]

Mira,

Nora says hello.

It is the first thing she bade me to write in this letter. She misses you dearly, along with her "Kiki" and "The prince".

I know you well enough to know you're laughing about that. I wish I could say I have no idea why the latter of those nicknames has occurred, save for the fact that Wendy and Cameron bought her a number of books with knights.

There is a blonde, snooty prince in one of those novels. I'm sure you can draw your conclusions.

Regardless, she seems determined to be a knight at the moment.

(You'll find this endearing - she said "Kiki and I can travel around and fight dragons for him. He's always wearing pretty things, there's no way dragons don't want to steal his treasure, so I think he could use the assistance.")

She can be whatever she wants, for all I care. As long as she's happy. That may mean I need to find some dragons for her to fight in the future.

Her drawings go well. I've included a few with this letter, most of which are for you. You'll see very quickly which ones are for our... acquaintances.

Mother purchased several books on drawing, and has offered to pay for a tutor of my choosing for her.

I...I don't know how to feel about that. She's surprisingly warm towards Nora.

I wish I could quash down this resentment that she has more time for her granddaughter than she ever did for me. It's unseemly. And not fair to Nora.

As for my surprise guest- well. You remember her from the video call. We've been...discussing things.

Give my love to the dogs, please. I miss them dearly. Nora has been playing with a stray lately, and she reminds me of Arthur.

We'll be home before you know it. After I send this letter to you, we'll begin packing.

Remember to prepare the necessary documents, and we'll work on what we discussed upon my return.

And if those two have returned - give them the drawings. And also one of the two sets of cookies that arrived with this letter. Nora insists they're "magical" and have "healing properties so Kiki and the prince can kick ass."

I did not teach her that word, but she's plenty old enough to swear. You remember where she only ever said "blast and damnation!"? I miss those days.

I ramble, partially because I loathe packing.

I'll see you soon.

Signed,

Adrien Graves

[macs-garage]

[There's a picture, taken on film inspired by old Cradle Polaroids.

It shows a young girl in an overalls dress, holding onto her oversized sunhat as she points to a little crab on the beach. The weather overhead is overcast, and the long pale grasses seem to sway in an unknown wind.

A tall man crouches beside her. His golden hair is in striking contrast to her own white locks, his forearms a dark golden tan. He wears a fitted button-up with the sleeves rolled up, and worn blue jeans. He seems to be explaining something to her. His expression is tired, soft, and sad.]

[A postcard is included.]

"Mira,

I hope you're doing well. I received your last letter, and I'm unsurprised at the state of CORSAIR. Morse was a good placeholder, but a leader...not so much. Just because someone can lead a rebellion doesn't mean they can lead an entire company.

Regardless.

I find my matters on Signal to be... complicated. As you may remember, it was my handler post-Deuces. Not that I bore any particular loyalty to it, and certainly not now.

I don't wish for its death. People may disagree on that statement, point out the death of my husband, but you know as well as I did why Mac Ricky went in there.

He didn't intend to come out.

So I am hard-pressed to pin the blame on Signal. Beyond that, so many people have done so many horrific things in the name of this bloody fucking company that it's hard to point at Signal alone without sounding like a complete hypocrite.

Ugh. Matters continue to be complicated, in that regard.

As for here - Nora and I are...getting our feet under us. She's met Wendy and Cameron, and they dote on her as much as they did on me when I was little. That, I'm relieved to say, has not changed.

I also saw my mother. Less delightful, even moreso considering the company she kept.

I'll explain more in person upon my return.

Should Zero and Khione

Nevermind.

Just tell those idiots not to get themselves killed. They've grown on me, like barnacles keeping a lobster from performing its necessary tasks for survival.

Keep well, Mira. You and the dogs.

Sincerely,

Booker."

[macs-garage]

[There is an image of a dog in a motorcycle sidecar.

He has goggles on, and his tongue is lolling out in the wind.

His white, patchy fur gleams almost translucent in the sun, revealing his splotchy skin beneath.

He has three teeth.

He looks like the happiest dog alive.]

Arthur and I went for a drive! He gets so excited when he gets to ride in the sidecar.

- Mira

[macs-garage]

Hey everyone!

In light of recent events, Booker is taking some time for himself.

So meanwhile, I'm in charge of the blog!

This doesn't change a whole lot, just means that I'll be the one answering any questions.

Have a good one!

- Mira

[Enclosed is a picture of a short-haired woman in a tank top and flannel, flexing her bicep as she holds a wrench. A half-built custom Lancaster is behind her.]

[macs-garage]

Zero

Be safe ok

Arthur is lleeping in Ashanas dpot

Bye!!

[Enclosed is a shaky drawing of a dog sleeping on Ashana's head. The dog has a :) face.]

Oh, hello there Nora.

Don’t worry, love, you don’t be rid of me that easily. Khione and I shall return as soon as possible, and we shall return with gifts. Perhaps some exotic candies, hm?

I shall mind Arthur as well. I have grown quite fond of the little creature and I should hate to see him fall. I shall refrain from speculating on how he got up there in the first place.

Don’t worry, my dear, I simply must return. You have grown quite adept with your drawings, and I must see what you create in our absence. Perhaps you could draw a picture of a deer for me when I return?

We shall see you soon, Nora darling. Do keep your father company for us.

Zero~

[macs-garage]

Indeed. He would be honored to be a part of that, to have his name written so.

I am grateful that he is remembered by so many.

His loss is felt deeply here, but such things as this help.

- Booker

It is with heavy hearts that we announce the passing of Ricky "Mac" "Macguyver" Innes.

He bravely went on mission for the CORSAIR his fathers had loved before him, and went down fighting.

We here at Mac's Garage had known Mac for many, many years. He was diligent, hardworking, and one hell of a mechanic.

He will be dearly missed.

- Mac's Garage

[macs-garage]

Howdy, Booker...

I didn't know Mac well. But it was an honor to fight beside him. Not an honor I reckon I deserved. Without him we wouldn't have made it through that gate. Prolly woulda died like dogs throwin' ourselves against it.

If it's worth anything... I shot the bastard that did him in. That's... prolly small comfort. I'm sorry. I ain't good at this.

Apologizin'... been doin' a lot of that lately...

//Pinkerton\\

Small comforts, but a comfort nonetheless. I watched until the end, although I was advised not to.

Your efforts were valiant, and you're one hell of a shot.

Thank you, Pinkerton. Turns out old dogs can learn new tricks, hm? Or at least learn new masters, so to speak.

-Booker

[macs-garage]

The garage is still named after Mac.

The memory will not die.

Till Legends Bleed.

As it is, as it shall be.

I am no mechanic myself, but discussions have already been had. The garage itself will be settled into the hands of Mac's first student, Mira. She will keep his memory alive.

Thank you.

-Booker

Rest assured, the name will never change. He was my mentor and my friend. He helped me through some of the toughest times of my life.

I'm glad there are other people who will remember him fondly.

Til Legends Bleed!

-Mira

[macs-garage]

You don't know me. But I know you and yours have done a lot of good out there. My heart goes out to you at this tragic time. Mac's absence will be felt across the stars. May he rest easy.

My sincerest condolences.

- Max of Otia

I apologize it has taken so long for me to respond to this message. My mind has been muddled, these past few days. It is only now that I attend to so many of these messages.

Your condolences are received and welcomed. It is good to know my husband made such an impact, and that his memory will live on.

You have my gratitude.

-Booker

[macs-garage]

Khione and I shall be shipping out soon. We have a job to do. We have a "trial" to attend. We shall, perhaps, return upon the completion of our mission, our business here is not yet complete.

You shall forgive me the curtness of this message. Both you and I have more important things to be doing than dancing around this, but Khione insists that it would be rude not to inform our hosts of our departure first.

Zero~

Unsurprising. You and Khione may find letters, my daughter apparently snuck them in while I wasn't looking.

All things considered, terrifying that she's this good at sneaking. Consider this my apology in that regard.

Do not die. Do not mistake this for caring, but there is only so much that she can deal with at this age.

For some reason, she's grown attached.

Stars guide you two.

-Booker

[macs-garage]

It is with heavy hearts that we announce the passing of Ricky "Mac" "Macguyver" Innes.

He bravely went on mission for the CORSAIR his fathers had loved before him, and went down fighting.

We here at Mac's Garage had known Mac for many, many years. He was diligent, hardworking, and one hell of a mechanic.

He will be dearly missed.

- Mac's Garage

[macs-garage]

Oh...

- Mira

I...Christ the Buddha.

This wasn't how I wanted-

I...

Fuck.

- Booker

[macs-garage]

FUCKING SHIV SQUAD ATE IT

EAT IT GRAVY

- Booker

[macs-garage]

To all our people in the sky.

Safe travels, safe skies, and may the stars light your path home.

- Mac's Garage

[macs-garage]

Never expected you to come out of retirement Mac.

It'll be an honor to have an Innes under my care, just... I hope you know what you're doing signing up for this operation.

//Miss Morse\\

Ah, Aimee.

It is hoped that you will do well by him, and keep him in your care. He's in his workshop at the moment, and the glow of his tools can be seen from the house.

Rest assured, he knew.

He knows.

An Innes will sail with CORSAIR again, as is tradition.

As any Lancer knows, once the stars ingrain themselves in your blood, you will never leave them.

May this be the last crusade of the old guard.

- Booker

[macs-garage]

Roger that. Shipping it that way, should arrive...well. Sooner rather than later.

-Booker

Things found during Search and Rescue, pt 2

An incredible amount of you lose shit on the Omninet.

That being said, some of the wreckages today came up with more strange things.

- A completely sealed 1000 thread count sheet set (with duvet)

- A piece of art done in classical painting styles that eerily resembles an acquaintance of mine

- One workboot with teal laces

- An old monocular telescope

- three limes

- eldritch horror potato

- a crowbar made out of rebar (????)

- A dog collar, sans dog

- A sealed glass jar of peanut butter that's so old the contents are...murky.

- Another rubber duck. This one is a princess.

[macs-garage]

Sorry, in the chaos, I missed this one last time.

I took a look, it needed some serious cleaning, but- yeah. There's an engraving. Where am I sending the revolver to?

-Booker

Things found during Search and Rescue, pt 2

An incredible amount of you lose shit on the Omninet.

That being said, some of the wreckages today came up with more strange things.

- A completely sealed 1000 thread count sheet set (with duvet)

- A piece of art done in classical painting styles that eerily resembles an acquaintance of mine

- One workboot with teal laces

- An old monocular telescope

- three limes

- eldritch horror potato

- a crowbar made out of rebar (????)

- A dog collar, sans dog

- A sealed glass jar of peanut butter that's so old the contents are...murky.

- Another rubber duck. This one is a princess.