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Trey's communicator suddenly comes to like with a crackle and a squeal, making him frown. "What's the hold-up, cat, the next haul is already waiting and you're still not here to unload the previous one!", an annoyed and slightly inebriated voice tells him as it echoes inside the helmet.
"I said I'm coming, almost there...! Don't want the thrusters to overload or we'll be wasting even more time.", he replies and stifles a frustrated hiss, receiving some unintelligible background conversation and an acknowledging grunt in return before the communicator goes abruptly silent.
"Not that I'm not taking extra time on this, uuuurgh, I hope this is the last time ever we take work from scrappers...", he ponders while trying to align with the ship he's carefully approaching - his jetpack's thrusters constantly struggling from how his mass has effectively doubled from the random assortment of tools and stripped spare parts crammed into his greatly distended and extremely lumpy belly. Not to mention the constant dull ache from the stretch and the painful churning as hard plastic and metal push against his straining stomach lining, zero-g steering being hard with the distractions. ".... or next time I want to be the one to sort and pack everything, not always the transporter, this suuuucks!"
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kitsune-kajiru
"I said I'm coming, almost there...! Don't want the thrusters to overload or we'll be wasting even more time.", he replies and stifles a frustrated hiss, receiving some unintelligible background conversation and an acknowledging grunt in return before the communicator goes abruptly silent.
"Not that I'm not taking extra time on this, uuuurgh, I hope this is the last time ever we take work from scrappers...", he ponders while trying to align with the ship he's carefully approaching - his jetpack's thrusters constantly struggling from how his mass has effectively doubled from the random assortment of tools and stripped spare parts crammed into his greatly distended and extremely lumpy belly. Not to mention the constant dull ache from the stretch and the painful churning as hard plastic and metal push against his straining stomach lining, zero-g steering being hard with the distractions. ".... or next time I want to be the one to sort and pack everything, not always the transporter, this suuuucks!"
Art by
kitsune-kajiruCategory Artwork (Digital) / Vore
Species Cheetah
Size 1000 x 1000px
File Size 225.6 kB
Weight does indeed not exist in space because it only exists as a product of gravitational forces, that's why I specified 'mass' and not 'weight' in the text. =P And it's not that he's being impeded, it's that changing the direction of his movement requires more application of thrust with his current mass and the automated functions of his power pack are (yet again) not calibrated properly for that, not to mention he himself needs to be more cautious when doing in manually because changing direction or decelerating relative to the ship takes more time.
That's why he's complaining, it just adds to the discomfort of his stomach being used as a transport unit or for EVA. :P
That's why he's complaining, it just adds to the discomfort of his stomach being used as a transport unit or for EVA. :P
Sorry. Couldn't reply because Tashkara apparently blocked me months back. I didn't insult her or say anything mean or offensive. I was just asking for advice. She never responded, so I don't know what her opinion is, or if she even remembers. I'm desperate for answers. But I'm trailing off. Yes, the contents are weirdly shaped and heavy XD, belly rubs might help it feel better.
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