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Tannenworth Garage. If they can't fix it, it ain't worth keeping. Or so Mr. Tannenworth himself likes to claim. A claim upheld singularly by his only mechanic of any merit, one Ford Benett.
And that's no idle claim. When a tow truck pulled up a '54 Oldsmobile to the garage, despite the doors closing in about a half hour, Ford immediately had a sense of what the issue was… busted hood aside, it looked like the break shaft had been driven tirhg through the floor of the car. Seems another teen in Mutant Town had discovered his powers… and wrecked the family car as a result. Normally, the garage closed at 6 PM, but Ford regularly made use of the place after hours for his own personal projects, so he took orders that came in after that time as well.
Thanking the tow truck driver for dropping off the car, Ford smirked at the damaged car. An easy fix… he'd have it hammered back in good shape and repaired before he left for the night. Cranking up his radio, Ford whistled to the song playing on it as he reached down and effortlessly pulled the car by the front into the garage. Ah, the beauty of super strength for a mechanic. It made handling cars so much faster. Ford immediately began digging for the necessary parts and a hammer as his radio played, leaving the garage door wide open to let in the cool night air.
*
Another night, another bundle of hours dealing with the cold. This was the girl's lot in life, but she did it without annoyance or complaint. The people here were sacred to her, vastly important; she lives in this town, after all. Thankfully, they were allowed to get back to living their lives with little, to no fear. The F.o.H. had done some terrible things, but now, that string of insanity was coming to a close, and children were allowed to rest easy once more.
Her partially laced boots 'thunk' along the sidewalk, squishing sometimes once they hit puddles or rows of slush. For the most part, the petite figure was burrowed down into her jacket and scarf as much as possible. Hands stuffed in pockets, face hunkered down and half hidden, her flooftastic kinks bobbing with her stride, making her look like a dandelion poof in the summer.
Passing by the garage, she glances at the posted hours and notes that they're still up and running. She hears music, and industry; someone's inside. Pausing by the garage door, the girl gives a few taps of her knuckles against a wall to get the mechanic's attention. "Y'doin' ok in dere?" She asks calmly.
*
Ford's whistling paused as he looked up, quickly moving to turn down the radio (though leave it playing a little bit), and looking up as he grabbed his hammer. He blinked a moment at the sight of the young lady at his garage door. Usually, his music drove folks off… rare that someone would come looking at the door. And what's more, she was a cutie!
Flashing his trademark smirk, Ford nodded, waving her in out of the chill. "Everything's cool. Just doing some after hours work. Sounds like the family needs this car up and running again ASAP, so I plan to have it ready by morning, at the latest." He's… quite trusting, isn't he? Then again, what was worth stealing in this garage? "Boss already went home, so I've run of the place. I normally don't invite folks in to see my work, but for a lovely lady like yourself? I'll make an exception~"
Lifting the hood, Ford smiled as he had a look at the pins holding it to the car. "Name's Ford. Ford Benett."
*
Lynette glances around the building, and never one to sherk off some added warmth, the baby mambo enters. She nods to his story, acknowleding it, understanding it, and even voicing, "Dat's nice 'f y'." If anything, the girl gives off some sense of security. He may have even seen her before, doing this exact same thing and chatting up with the locals. She was making her rounds, and making sure everyone was good for the evening.
The comments has her smirking behind her mask of scarf, and there's even a faint rolling of her eyes. She at least looks at the car, but blinks with that tell-tale expression of not being sure what she's looking at.
"Nice t'meet y', Ford. M'Lynette." Blinking, she turns her dark eyes toward Ford and then questions. "S'it hard learnin' t'drive?"
*
Ford smiled at her introduction, grabbing a tool from his belt and reaching down to start undoing the pins holding the hood to the car body. "Lynette. Very lovely. Not used to having angels observe my work, so this is a welcome change." At her comment on being nice, Ford chuckled, shaking his head. "S'business. Gonna have to charge them for the work… but I use this garage for personal reasons, so my boss tolerates it if I earn him a bit extra off hours. Turns out the boy driving found out he's got super strength of some sort. Tried to brake and pushed the brake right through the floor… and then it crashed into a lightpost. But this is nothing."
At her question on driving, Ford paused, shaking his head again. "Not really, no. It might be a bit odd at first, but once you get the hang of it… well, it's like riding a bike. Assuming you're just going around town." He chuckled as he got one pin loose. "Now, racing, on the other hand… that's a whole different story."
*
"Don' gotta butta me up, chere." She comments, taking a step back and watching Ford tinker about. Glancing up, and around, she returns her focus to Ford and the car on display. The story at least causes her to giggle, and even smile, her eyes squinting a bit with the expression. "Poor boy." Still, she's joyful.
"Nah, don' wanna race. Jus' lookin' t'learn how t'drive at all. S'fasta den walkin'." A pause. "Could b' useful, too." Watching him work, she then blinks and turns to Ford directly. "How much f'de work? I c'n pay it f'dem."
*
"Oh, I find a dish like you goes great with a bit of butter~." Ford replied, humming as he listened to his music. Getting the other pin loose, Ford carefully removed the heavy hood like it was made of cardbaord instead of steel, and placed it down by the car. "Oh, that's what I love about this garage. You would not believe how many cars come in wrecked from kids learning their powers. Even had a rich fellow tell me how a kid made his limo's engine blow up with a good glare. Keeps us running, but I like the work."
The offer to pay for the repairs made him pause with his hammer in hand, looking up quizzically at the young lady. "That's… awfully generous of you…" Not something Ford was used to. Not opposed, but it certainly did raise his suspicions of the young lady… must be one of those 'hero types'. "Well… can't say for sure at the moment. I try to keep the costs down by recycling the parts that break. But, ah… let me see…" He started to count up on his hands as he figured up the costs in his head. "…I'm gonna err on the side of costly and say… $42? It's hard to tell until the work is done. Depends on if I need to repair the parts or replace them… but assuming I'd have to replace everything, $42 should cover it and then some."
*
Another giggle, it seems the more innocent ways kids finding out they have powers makes the girl happy. She adjusts her stance, one hip resting to the side now as her hands continue to press firmly into her pockets. She was never warm enough, at least not when any chill of the winter could reach her. She notes the lack of effort it takes to move the massive slab of metal, but doesn't comment on it. In this part of town, things like that just weren't surprising.
Listening for the amount, she pulls her hand free of her coat pocket, and starts digging around in her pants pockets. Finally, she pulls out a few crumbled up notes, and standing by a work bench, presses them flat so they look a bit more like money. "Here. Dis 'lright?" She questions, offering the man a trio of twenty dollar notes. "Don' need de change 'r n't'ing." Looking at the care, then back again, her floofy head cants to the side before she follows up. "De boy? S'name Clancey Jenkins?"
*
Ford stared at the money… she just carried $60 in her pocket?! "Ah… yeah… yeah, that'd do it." He looked at the money, taking it absentmindedly a moment, before looking at the car. "…yeah, with the extra, I could give it a sprucing up. Make it run like new." Ford paused a moment, looking at the woman, the question about the boy's name completely flying past him. He was more lost in his thoughts on the woman herself. Who was this person that she goes around Mutant Town carrying money like it's nothing and so concerned about the mutant kids.
"Lynette, right? …if you don't mind me asking, but ah… not often I meet a lady like you with the cash to burn on a random kid - ah, not sure about the name, have to check the sheet, by the by - but ah… who are you?"
*
"Use de extra howeva y'wan'." She shrugs, watching it pass into his own hand. Back into her pocket her own goes, but one he stares, she stares back. Unmoving, she studies his face and almost 'watches' those wheels in his brain start turning. "Mmhmm?" She nods, he was right about her name. The question, however, causes her brow to quirk. "What'd mean 'who 're y'? M'jus' me, chere. De kids here? S'mtimes, dey need 'lil help, s'all. We ain't in de best place in de city."
Glancing out the garage door Mutant Town itself was a bit of a slum, and more often than not, occupied by those not yet accepted by the normal world. "So, I do m'rounds, help were I c'n. T'night, dey need dat more den me, non? 'f it's Jenkins, den his daddy gon' need dat car back n'soon. S'hard workin' man, dat. Does good by 's wife n'babies."
*
Ford watched her a bit, as if a little unsure about the sincerity of her words. But he finally shook his head, laughing. "Ahhh… one of those hero types, yeah? Yeah, yeah… 'make the world a better place' and all that. Sorry. Just not used to generosity of that caliber around here." Ford walked back through a door in the back on the right with the money. A moment later, he returned, sans the money, but instead carrying a small card. He handed it to the young lady, smirking.
"In case you feel like covering the bill for someone else some time… or coming back to see me~" He said with a wink, before kneeling down next to the hood, hammer at the ready. Steadying the hood with his free hand, Ford began hammering the dents of the hood back into place, one swift *TWANG* at a time. The hood started to look very quickly like its old shape. A feat that normal human strength certainly wouldn't be able to achieve so quickly. "So, *TANG!* you're looking to *BANG!* learn how to *TWANG!* drive, eh? *TANG!*"
*
"Hero type? Non'…don' t'ink so. Jus'…like helpin'." Reaching for the card, she accepts it and slips it into her back pocket. "Don' know 'bout betta. Fair'd be a nice start, don' y't'ink?" Staying out of the way, she watches him work, another glance out the garage door and back toward the street. "Mmm. It'd be nice, too. Tried de otha day…s'lil hectic at de time. So I…heh, crashed." Rubbing at the nape of her neck, her face finally starts to show itself from out of the cover of its scarf-mask. "Don' wanna do dat 'gain."
*
"'Doing rounds', 'like helping' and modesty are hallmarks of the hero type, in my experience." Ford replied, smirking as he continued to hammer away the dents for a moment, sighing as he got it back in roughly similar shape. Setting the hammer down, he shook his head. "I'm more on the… what would I be, anyways? Not quite hero, not quite bad guy… selfish, but not overtly antagonistic… unless it's someone I don't like, in which case, screw 'em. Like the ladies more than I should, but don't look down on them. What do they call that?" Seems like the word Ford is searching for is 'anti-hero'.
"Jackass." That works too.
Ford stood up and grabbed a book from one of the nearby shelves, laying it down and turning to a page with a picture of an intact Oldsmobile showing, consulting it before turning to the hood… and actually starting to press the finer dents back into place with his thumb! With little thought on the matter, clearly. Evidently, it's something he's done before. "Yeah, typically, best to not learn a skill under pressure. You kinda want to slow down and take your time with it… especially if it's a first time~" he mused, pushing another dent back into place after consulting his book again. The metal seems to groan under his pressure. "Now, if you'd like to have someone who knows what he's doing teach you the 'ins' and 'outs', I'll be happy to give you private lessons… but only after dinner and a movie~"
…he is still talking about driving, right?
*
"Y'sound like a man, t'me." Lynette murmurs, offering her two cents on what he's called. Shrugging, she rests back against a rather sparce counter so not to be in his way. She listens to the metal as it moves and bends, and then groans under pressure. She always did enjoy seeing things built, so the display has her attention all the more. And, it's warmer in here than it is out there; which is a plus for the girl. The comments do not go amiss, either, and often have her rolling her eyes behind his back. The next offer has her smiling, at least, even though her expression shifts to apologetic. "I ain't 'gainst bein' taught. I like food well 'nough, too, n'de movies." A pause, "Fair warnin', dough? M'taken, chere."
*
"Then perhaps I can encourage the lucky dog to give you a bit more attention~ I find guys tend to up their game if they know they have a little competition." Ford smirked, evidently not deterred at the idea of having competition himself. He did take notice of her watching him work, pushing another dent into place as he started to form the hood properly, holding it up. "Super strength. Comes in handy with this line of work. Makes moving cars and engine blocks a heck of a lot easier when you don't need a crane." He commented, placing the hood back on the car and stepping back to observe how it looked. "Of course, around these parts, it's less of an impressive feat. Then again, makes me feel welcome… even if I'm not a mutant."
Ford walked over and grabbed his tool box, setting it down on by the car as he pulled a dolly over to lay back on. "Ah, before I get my hands too dirty, you want anything? Got a coffee brewing in the back… and the break room should still have a few snacks in the fridge."
*
Lynette chuckles and shakes her head, sending her curls swaying. "Don' worry, beau. I get 'ttention /jus' fine/ fr'm my man. N', well, y'don' wan' dat one bein' y'comp'tition." She promises with a hint of warning in her tone. As he continues to speak, however, her eyes round out in surprise. "Y'not? Was startin' t't'ink dat well mut'nts 'round here. Truth be told, I ain't all mut'nt m'self." Then, she shakes her head. "Non', m'fine. T'anks. 'sides, should be gettin' home here soon."
*
Ford smirked as he laid back, rolling under the oldsmobile. "Oh, I like a little tussling. Keeps me on /my/ game. Besides, I'm one of those wierd guys who likes the thrill of the hunt as much as the actual catch, you know?" Pulling his tool box after him, the clank of metal started to sound from underneath, along with more metallic groaning as Ford seemed to be fixing things. "Nope! 100% human! Not sure where my powers came from, but I do know I'm not at my peak… heck, not even sure if I have a peak. I haven't reached it yet. I just live around these parts cause it's cheap and that's where my work is. The folks in Mutant Town keep me hopping… I'm actually thinking of opening a repair shop in the middle of the place, if I could find a reliable spot. Mutant unknowns add a guessing factor to the whole location, you know?"
At the mention that she was a partial mutant, the metal noises stopped for a moment, followed by a brief "…huh." before continuing. "Wouldn't have pegged you as a mutant to begin with. Must've been too busy admiring that gorgeous skin or lovely outfit to be paying it notice… my sincerest apologies. I like to think I'm more observant than that." Of course, she had to leave. It was late… "Oh, I'm sorry. Don't let me keep you. I'm just enjoying the company. Not often I get someone to talk to while I work. But I got it. Gotta get home to your man. Tell him to up his ante. He's got to work for it now~"
*
Lyn blinks, her head canting to the side before she plops down, closer to Ford, but still well out of the way. "Mut'nts 're human, Ford." She explains calmly, and then scoffs at his commentary. "Ah, now I know y'bullshittin'. M'outfit? Ratty jeans, scuffed boots, n' a blood stained jacket? Mmm, m'fashion elite." Standing, she gives his legs a soft nudge with her toe before turning toward the garage opening. "Y'be careful out dere, Ford. Stay warm. Stay safe, n' have a good night."