This gets a chuckle. "Yes ma'am."

...Well, she's just going to keep sitting here and seeing what she can fix of her Ring, and enjoy the quiet presence of Daisy.

Daisy seems to be fine with that.

She'll have another hour or so to work uninterrupted before the door opens behind her. Pradnakt huffs in annoyance and edges around the two of them - Daisy scoots out of her way as well as she can - to head around to the side of the house.

::Apologies.  Regret overbearingness.::

She gives Pradnakt her space.

Pradnakt ignores her.

About half an hour later, there's a thump on the other side of the house, suggestive of someone jumping down from a low ledge, and Pranakt is just visible walking from there toward the garage; when she gets there, she pauses - it's too dark to make out any details of what she's doing - and Daisy signs in her direction and stands to go over there.

...Yeah, she's not really very certain what she could do, or what she should do.

Though, she does have one question... "...Daisy, can you ask her if I'm allowed in the workshop at present?  ...and I want to know what's happening there, but I'm respecting her privacy and space, so, uh...yeah."

"Yes ma'am." She signs again and waits for a response. "You can go in, yes. We have some packing to do in the garage, I assume that's what she wants me for."

She nods.

"I'll be in there, then."

...She wants to figure out what all those tools are even for.

"Oh - could you send back your copy of English, and a copy of whatever the common tongue is, when you have a chance?"

"Next time I'm not busy, yes ma'am." And she goes.

On closer examination, most of the things littering the table - which is big enough to be impossible to reach the center of; Pradnakt must use her telekinesis when she works at it - are not tools but pieces of larger machines, and seem to be arranged more based on their aesthetic properties than their functional ones. Of the tools, many of them are recognizable enough - there are only so many ways to design a wrench or screwdriver or soldering iron - but again there's a sense that this is more an art studio than an engineer's workshop based on which ones are closest to hand and seem the most used. The bins of parts along the side wall, sorted by size and color rather than function, also suggest that this is the case.

...Huh.

It checks out, given that...she doesn't think Daisy did all her own art...but it's still interesting to process.

She does, however, want to understand these broken machines, to understand the person who makes use of them.  So she lights up her Lantern (in a sense, for her Lantern is always on), and falls into that same meditative state, as Indigo plays over what Diana seeks to understand.

Most of it is decommissioned farming and food processing equipment, with broken housewares making up another notable portion, and the occasional spaceship or droid part or piece of virgin material as well; it seems to have come from all different sources, at least in terms of the people who used it.

And casting her Lantern's light wider, viewing the reflections of the actions within this space...?

It's Pradnakt, Daisy, and Nine's home, and they seem happy here, sitting together at the table to work, each on their own projects - Daisy does calligraphy and Nine writes, along with Pradnakt's artistic tinkering and Daisy's cooking - and talk, or working together on household chores, or just spending time together, in pairs or all three.

...d'aw.

She smiles, gently, and lets her Lantern dim.  Right now...

...she's not really sure what to do, still.

Perhaps just...continue to exist.

Perhaps keep trying to fix some of her Ring.  Perhaps - well, she just really doesn't know.

Perhaps she will follow Pradnakt's example, and try exorcising her feelings - lost, alone, adrift, desperately reaching for connections - into art.

There are more usual kinds of art supplies in the cabinet, she might remember from when Pradnakt drew her a map of the galaxy, if the Sith's preferred medium doesn't suit her.

No, the broken machines...feel right.  It's not like she isn't one herself, in some ways.

...Not that she's going to openly admit that.

Still, she feels some kinship with them, so...they're her chosen medium.

...For all that she doesn't have anywhere near as much skill in using it as she'd like.  She has a dream, a vision, a nightmare - but not particular plans for realizing the heart that's been torn out of her chest like a falling angel.

There are plenty of parts, well-organized and easy to look through, and the tools are good quality and nicely weighted, and intuitive enough to figure out how to use; she may have problems instantiating her vision, but they won't be those problems.

And...have problems instantiating her vision she immediately does, because there's some sort of fundamental contradiction, that she daren't even articulate, when she approaches the art.  There's a centerpiece, her bleeding heart...but what goes around it is a paradox.

She has a few hours to think about before Daisy comes back, knocking and pausing for a moment to give Diana a chance to clear up anything she doesn't want her to see before she opens the door.

There really isn't much to see at all.  Just some loose parts on the table, and a frustrated Indigo Lantern.

"Are you all right, ma'am?"

"Never have been."

"...Sorry, I have no idea why I said that.  But, I'm as fine as can be expected when I'm pretty sure I'm not going to see my home again and that I failed to defend it."

"It's fine, ma'am, it's understandable that you're upset. If there's anything we can do to help I'd like to know about it. For now, is there anything in particular you'd like for dinner?"