|Sammy|| One of the things about small vehicles, is you can get them in interesting places. Thus is the case with Sammy and the Motorcycle he's working on, the individual pieces one at a time, when found, aren't that big by themselves. And he's got tarps down under the assembly area, eah piece being taken apart, brought up the stairs in the secrecy of night, or tucked under one arm, held over a shoulder. It's not a whole car. It's just a Motorcycle. Okay so when all the parts are in a heap it's a bigger thing. Unlike most motorcycles, there's 3 wheels in this pile of parts.
Sammy, is sitting at the edge of the 'mat' he laid out for working on the thing, looking down at a Pip-Boy which has a diagram of how it's all supposed to go to work. Cross-legged in his fatigues.
|Lilly Caine||Lilly Caine sits up on the bed, peeking over, legs folded beneath her. "how's it going?" she offers, looking at the assembled parts, mind already trying to fit bits together here and there. She's also absorbing the process like a sponge.|
|Sammy||He looks up, blinking out of his meditation, his gunsmith tools being employed, he's got a small bit, hard to see just what it's supposed to be, and he's picking bits of dust and grit from a spring-based something, maybe a brake caliper? Clutch assembly? All the parts, sometimes might maybe fit. "Did I wake you?" he muses quietly, looking back with a quiet grin, "I almost got this piece cleaned out." he tap-taps with the pick. "Trying to figure out what to do about the friction plates, though, that'll be somethin."|