Molly sighs through her nose, making an exaggerated pouting expression for a moment before she rests her elbow on the table and plops her chin in her hand. Her other hand goes back to tracing pencil lines on the paper.
Beside her is an emptied plate and scattered in the small table space she's claimed for the moment are more sketched-on papers. Pushed furthest out of the way are detailed schematics, some of them crumpled. Closer is a drawing of what could be an engine or heating system with arrows and notes all over it. On top of that is a goggled, cartoony aeronaut standing at the prow of an airship, scarf flapping in the wind.
Molly's pencil is still tracing over her last doodle of a small woman in an apron standing near a stove with a crabby expression. She seems to be waving a frying pan at a large man in coveralls across the page, sitting at a table that looks almost too small for him. He looks like he might be cowering from her, but wears a smirk. Between them sits a pig-tailed girl with a comedically large grin. Molly furrows her brows at the doodle.