| Handyman... Meet Electrical Nightmare |
[26 Dec 2005|09:16pm] |
Since his lunch meeting with Reverie, Kael had flung himself back into what he considered his real work. The shop front had been left more or less unattended as Kael toiled away in the backroom as he began to forge the weapons that Reverie had requested. The thing with Kael was, no matter how he might have felt or what he had on his mind, he could always switch those things off and let himself get lost in the craft of creating something from nothing.
Sweat glistened on his skin but was soon swiped away from his forehead by a brush of his forearm. Gloves were tugged off and left to rest on the nearby workbench as Kael took a few gulps from the water bottle he always kept on hand. Dirt and grit lingered on his skin from the hard, laborious work that had gone into the initial stages of creation.
With the water in the bottle nearly downed in one breath, he wandered over to the nearby sink and began to cool his skin with the water that poured out of one tap and he then took to scrubbing away the dirt. It was time for a break, he had already been working hard for several hours, a break would do him some good. Maybe he'd even get something to eat.
Kael dried his hands and picked up his shirt to pull it back over his shoulders so he wasn't only wearing a tank top before he stepped out of the workshop and pulled the door shut after himself.
It was getting close to sunset when Star rolled into town, in a ride that still carried its ‘new car’ scent. She didn’t turn her nose up. After all, Searchlight had been her home for a year before the club felt into her lap. But she did wrinkle it, a little.
Dust. Tons of dust, and all those lots of RVs and mobile homes. A street she didn’t dare look down, because her MIA boyfriend still rented the property, all the way from Japan (the son of a bitch). And finally, a parallel parking spot in front of a humble repair shop. This was where the SOB had taken her toaster, when she got the idea to warm up her facial mask packet in there, and it exploded.
Star hauled herself out of the driver’s side and slammed the door. She took a moment to rid herself of the ‘car ride’ look, brushing the Pringles crumbs off a long, multicolored skirt done in winter fabric, and pushing down her long sleeves.
At the trunk, she stopped again, and turned a key in the lock. From the dark recesses, she pulled an appliance out by its cord, and held it away from herself. Dark water still dripped from the end, and it smelled like fiery death.
Star pushed her way inside and didn’t look up at first. She was too busy staring at the droplet that hung off the end of the hairdryer. “Hello? Gonna need some help, here!” she called.
Kael's head had already turned the moment the bell above the door sounded and his eyes ran over the woman who had just entered his shop. She didn't hold his attention for long as the *drip drip* sound of water hitting a wooden floor brought his attention to the appliance she clasped in one hand. His mind could only theorize on what could have happened to have that kind of effect on a hairdryer and he soon decided it was better he actually asked before making an assumption.
"Uh hi, how can I help?" he asked as he stepped out from around the counter and walked towards her. He paused just short of the appliance and inclined his head in one direction to take a better look at it.
“Fix this,” Star declared, and dangled her favorite hairdryer out at Kael, like a lantern hanging from its post. Swaying back and forth, to and fro, drip and drop. “You’re the one who fixed my toaster, right? The avocado mask.”
At that point, she looked up and took in the shop owner’s appearance. Sweaty, tan, a little roughed up around the edges. Hellooo handyman. This one had to be the subject of more than one local girl’s pornographic fantasies. Oh yeah, the slow-motion flexing of a muscular arm as it hammered and nailed. Beads of perspiration rolling off his chest as he drilled this or buffed that. She wondered how he was with a rubber hose.
( What Did You DO? )
( The Name Game )
( That Infamous Gym Sock Coffee )
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| My Old Confidante |
[26 Dec 2005|11:45pm] |
William Carruthers stepped over to the long-term parking at the airport in Las Vegas and found his Jeep waiting. Apparently there had been quite some excitement since he had left, but no one was really talking about it. He'd have to look into it when he got back to Searchlight. But for now, he loaded his luggage into the back and got in.
The car was familiar, and it felt like he was going home again, finally. He turned the key, and after a moment the car kicked to life. Pulling out into traffic, he began driving toward Searchlight. The post-Christmas holiday traffic in Vegas was like in any other city, and so it was slow going. Stuck in traffic, William looked at the crowds wandering the sidewalks.
Anyone who had chosen to walk that night couldn’t help but feel a little smug.
Endless cars piled up along the Boulevard and the side streets beyond, until there was nothing but headlights and taillights as far as the eye could see. Cars caught in the relentless ‘stop and go’ traffic honked their horns in frustration, while pedestrians dodged in and out between bumpers, and made their way unimpeded up the sidewalks.
At one corner, Rhiannon stood in the midst of winter tourists and bargain-hunting shoppers, waiting for the traffic pattern to change. The air had a bite, the way it should around Christmas. There wasn’t snow here, unlike Detroit, but it didn’t matter much.
She balled her hands tight in pockets and tipped her head forward. Studied the shoes around her, and then ahead of her, as they began to file off the sidewalk. When it was her turn, Rhiannon looked up and made her way past the queued vehicles. The bright glow of their headlamps illuminated her profile.
William grumbled as the driver in front of him tried to switch lanes and then pulled back quickly. William nearly rear-ended him and swore, blowing his horn. He glared, but then just sat there, and looked at the pedestrians again. And suddenly, it seemed like one, someone on the sidewalk not too far off, was familiar. He blinked to make sure, and then leaned out the window, calling out, "Rhiannon?"
( Unlikely Traveler )
( Playing Catch-Up )
( These Days )
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