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Dizzy comes wandering into the library, carrying a few little pieces of metal, a die grinder that's apparently connected to nothing, and a paper sack. She's glancing around for a quiet spot… with apparently, a desk lamp, which she heads directly for.
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"Hey dere," Remy says quietly, looking up from his books. He has a stack of them and has been studying for the better part of a day on his GED kickoff. Her arrival gives him something to excuse a break. "How's it goin?"
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Julie waves there. "Can't complain, not bugging ya, am I? Kinda gotta figure out where they keep the light bulbs around here," she smirks, peering at her little workpiece a moment.
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Remy shakes his head, "Nah, not a tick, chere. Jus' been lookin' at dese books all day. Whatchu workin' on?"
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Julie smiles, holds up her little piece of bracketry, "Oh, working out some kind of safety harness for something, thought I'd get this deburred before I knock off…" She holds up the little air tool in her hand, a little cylindrical grinding stone spins seemingly of its own accord, just there's some sourceless 'vrr' sound somewhere and its own bearings.
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Remy nods a time, then two more times, then shakes his head, "You know, chere, I dun got no clue what dat doodad is." He raises his eyebrow, "You one of dose techy types?"
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Julie laughs a bit. "That what they call it, these days? Guess I'm kind of yer mechanic type. Kinda hoping I can learn some other things while I'm here, too, but Teach McCoy's got me putting together a shop class."
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Remy nods, "Sound like a lot of fun. Can't say I met any McCoy yet. Still pretty new round dese parts. How long you been here?"
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Julie shrugs, a little, there. "Just this summer, more or less, really, but the Professor kinda spotted me when I was getting out of California, so I've been coming around a bit longer. Kinda didn't know what to think of it a while."
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Remy nods, "California?" He whistles low and nods, "Sound' nice. Which part? You a NoCal gal, a beach gal, or a desert gal?" The idea of a mountain girl comes to him late, but the words are already out.
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Julie says, "Eh, I'm from Brooklyn, just spent a couple years in southern California with my Uncle. The Prof was watching out for refugees from the Sacramento riots, but really I just had to drive. Wanted to get to the President's funeral, and all, yaknow?""
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Remy nods a bit forlornly, "It be a crazy time, fo sho."
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Julie nods, there. "I guess so. Maybe it's always been crazy or something." Thinks a moment, the little air tool spinning seemingly without her attention a bit. "Oh, a die grinder, is what you call this."
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Remy nods, being polite. "Maybe it always been crazy. I dun tink so, tho. Least not like dis."
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Julie nods. "Yeah, I guess there was the war before, for my folks, but now there's all the missiles and space aliens, and, well, us, I guess." She tilts her chin toward Remy's books. "You doing all right there, with that? I know not everyone gets to go to school and all, my stuff just don't show, usually, so I did."
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Remy nods, "Yeah, doin' fine. It been nice gettin' back into books, really. Learnin' a lot."
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Julie nods, there, glancing around at the library, …it's a bit of a posh setting for her, really. "Quite a place, here. But I figure I can learn a thing or two, too. Normally, there ain't much percentage in a chick going to engineering school, except to marry an engineer or something."
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"Tings are changin' all around," Remy replies with a shrug of his shoulders, thinking of Jess and her own personal brand of feminism. The memory makes him smile faintly. To marry a thief, as it were. "Been married. S'overated."
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Julie hrms, and smirks. "Guess in some respects." She doesn't share further thoughs there. "So how'd you end up here?"
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"Girl wit a grey streak in her hair carried me thru de clouds," Remy says cryptically. "Almos' sound like a fairy tale." He waxes nostalgic for a moment, "Rem always been a bit of a rollin' stone and dis happened to be where he dun rolled up to for now." He looks around, "I like it here."
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Julie nods. "Yeah, maybe a bit wound-up, but it seems like it's all good people here, one way or another."
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"Can't disagree," Remy says. With a sigh he looks to his work, "Welp, I prolly should get back to dis."
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Julie nods, raises her grinding tool. "Sounds all right. I guess let me make a little noise so I can tack this together, then I'll get out of your hair." The paper bag, it turns out, is apparently to catch the filings. She buzzes around inside a hole that already exists until some sort of metal sleeve fits to her satisfaction.
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Remy shrugs his shoulders, "Knock y'self out, kid." He reaches for his pocket to check and ensure he's got enough cigarettes to make it through the night and idly wonders about the Professor's rules about alcohol. He hadn't asked yet.