Buzz of propellers came from above, and the fighter prop plane lowered for a landing.  Wheels touched strip, and the smooth transition from sky to land made Belle smile.  When the plane stopped, the simian drove the plane towards its hanger in her shop, but she paused, and killed the engines, seeing the small visitor. 

"Well who in the heck have we here?"  Voice called out, sweet and welcoming.  "I dun get much visitors your size and fashion 'round here much."

Hips swayed, sass flowing through her bodysuit.  Each step brought Belle closer to Ambrosine.  She lifted her visor to rest just below her coif.

"You got an interest in planes and motorcycles, hon-bun?  ... Name's Belle."  She extends a friendly, gloved hand.  "What's your moniker?"

Belle gave a soft, awkward laugh as she went to her locker and got ready for the day.  "Mallow, please meet me in the back of the school under the maple tree for lunch, alright?  I have some more things to discuss."  She swapped her shoes and answered Veira in a gentle, polite way.  "I'm doing this semester with a lot of science courses.  I have chemistry this time through, and physics."  A bigger grin came to her face.  "If you hear an explosion from the lab, it's bound to be my doin'!"

"Summer was... summer."  Belle laughed as Veira went inside, but once Veira was out of sigh, Belle's full attention went to Mallow.

"Uh, no, tempeh is more like a chunky bean curd.  The spongy stuff you had in your curry was fried tofu."  She smiled at Mallow and warmed up to his hug.  Her arms went about him in cordial response that slowly drew the rabbit in closer to her ample bosom.  The moment was quiet, sharing the happiness of a good meal, a crisp summer morning, and... "Macarons!?"  She pulled from that hug swift, but not shoving Mallow.  Eyes widened as she looked down to the package presented, and took it with care.  "Your mom is always so cool.  Bless her heart, and I don't mean it ironically." 

Happy with the gift, Belle immediately opened it up, taking out a honey macaron first.  She plopped the meringue treat into her mouth, one bite, and her entire expression lit up with pure bliss.  "Oh my god! That's so gooood!"  Quick, she wrapped the macarons back up and laughed.  "I will have to portion these out just right.  Not too many at once, but not so slow that they lose their crisp."

Belle's eyes brightened to see Mallow coming up to her, but her expression dropped to see Mallow grab and stop Val.  Green eyes cast down and she quietly stood aside while the rabbit handled the silver fox situation.  Belle took a seat upon the cement guard at the side of the steps.  In her hands she held a prepped bento.  Every year, every day, since she met Mallow, she always packed an extra lunch in case he needed it.  Deep breaths and head lifting up slow, only when Val was gone, she spoke up.

"My summer was a'right, Mallow.  Lots of hard work, and upkeep with my lil' sis, but we're getting by."  She put on a smile for him and offered him the bento she prepped.  "Tempeh, sauteed savoury with mixed veggies.  Dessert is a carrot puree topped with marshmallow."

While others were at 'play,' Belle was at home.  Currently covered in grease and dirt, she lay on her back, stationed under the carriage of a small race car.  Axles.  How she hated them when bent.  How in the world this client caused this much damage to his vehicle was beyond her.  Her job, however, was fixing the issue, not contemplating the cause.  So she tweaked and toiled at the frustrations physical before her, and emotional in her past.  Anxiety settled in the back of Belle's mind while she worked, eyes squinting behind goggles while she switched tools and removed the defective parts above her.  Tail twitched, memories busy with the attacks on the city.  Bombs. Fries.  Chemicals. Death.  Deep breath in through her mask, and out through the valve.

Ginger came home safe.  Belle reminded herself of this, sometimes in a whisper under her breath.  With her workshop private aside from customer inquiries made at the garage door, Belle let her rock 'n' roll music blast.  The old pieces of the axle came loose and clattered.  She filed down the uneven surfaces where needed, then cleaned and prepared the area for the new parts.  Soft grunts pushed through her nostrils and tail swung below her from her work hammock.  Difficult life.  Difficult job.  Difficult emotions.  As her negative emotions rose, she put more effort into her work, putting her energy into her constructive skill.  She did not rush, did not take her anger and worry out on the mechanics.  At least by the end of the day, she would feel exhausted from work, and not worry.

Typical for her doorbell, her music interrupted to a quiet murmur opposed to partying roar.  A light tone broadcast, and Belle wheeled out from her current job.  After lifting her goggles, she answered the video camera outside,  "Belle's Bucket of Bolts.  You crash it, I un-mash it." A weasel stood outside, somebody Belle knew.  She let him in, and he backed his truck up to a waiting dumpster of spare parts.  Today's haul was old plane pieces - some from abandoned yards, others from junk sellers, and some were ocean debris. "Ah, thanks, Jack."  Belle happily paid for the scraps, a low price for the mix she would personally dig through.  Sometimes Jack brought nothing, but sometimes he brought 'gold.'  When Jack left, Belle closed her garage door, blasted her music once more, and finished up the axle job.  When done, the race car was given a final cleaning and detail for presentation, and wheeled up front for collection and claim.

Now was time for Belle to investigate the dumpster of old plane pieces, and see what she could rig together from it.

Belle disappeared down that narrow corridor, running past chemical drains and various performance panels.  Despite her growing headache, and the rancid smell that surrounded her, she stopped to take notice of the panels and what they said.  Pathways for the chemicals to flow, different halls, what power switch led to where.  Perhaps that information would come in handy in the near future.

Once she absorbed this information, Belle made her way out from the other side of the corridor.  Head was throbbing.  The jarring scent of chemicals flooded her senses.  "Ugh..."  Hand touched her stomach, her neck, and with a swift pull of her hand ripped off her mask and scarf.  A moment passed for the contents of her stomach to find the floor.  "Not good."  She hissed.  She fetched a silver flask out of her backpack, shuffling for the silver canister.  A swish back and forth, and the strong cinnamon whiskey was spat to the ground - flask returned to its nest among her belongings.

Bright green eyes peered about the corner, spotting Riotman as he shot another wave, which did nothing to Belle in her constant state of pain.  In that moment that he fired that wave, Belle lobbed out another EMP plasma shot.  She could not keep using these, or she would drain the computer battery for her motorcycle - and it would be hard to recharge to make an easy getaway.

"Great..."  Belle hissed at the appearance of Riotman.  She remained in the shadows, out of harm's way.  The wave grazed her, but she was already in pain.  Yes.  Her sensitivity to aromas had a headache pounding in her temples.  "What was that?"  Eyes squinted as she pondered the wave of energy.  Crouched, she readied her plasma guns  and took a look about her surroundings.  Various pipes and chemicals surrounded her, and the boys looked like they could use some help. 

With a low-power plasma shot, she fires into the air.  Maybe Riotman would be curious and approach the makeshift flare.  Soon as she fires, she readies her next shot, aimed for a large electronic display above.  She planned to shoot it, fall it, and smash Riotman down.