The blinding, intense light light above you hindered your ability to perceive your surroundings clearly,— yet you recongised the familiar set of somewhat warm, leather gloves gently settled upon you.

”Well, jeez’. How’y do this?”

His calm, quick witted voice chimed, his voice box producing his voice smoother like fresh butter. He lifted a gloved hand, adjusting the light above with a quiet grunt.

His illuminated, orange pupils stared, not intense,— but with a sense of analysing scrutiny, as he assessed your damages,,.. whatever they were, that is.

Beside you, he had his toolbox pried open, it’s primary red paint chipped and flaky, tethered with wear and tear,.— quite on brand for Solar, being the hard working, on hands dude he was.