|
Usually Yuliya would have snooped first, then kept things quiet about her snooping. However, she has trust in Able, and though with her nerves running high and a knot in her stomach, she's driven her old rusty van up the path of the estate, with the fan belt squealing as she goes.. Old habits die hard, she's only really entered the estate after doubling back on herself a couple of times to make certain she didn't have any tails.
Also, while she isn't formally snooping around, she has disguised herself quickly. Her dark hair is now a dirty blonde and held back in a bun, and she wears a white blouse and jacket, as well as figure hugging gray pants. She also has a pair of glasses on her nose.
Light, and some Beach Boys music spills out of a door into the garage that stands ajar, …who should be standing there but Dizzy, one hand tucked in a leather jacket, another puffing a bit on a smoke as she regards the air… She senses the unfamiliar engine perhaps even before hearing the squeak as the van pulls on up the drive. "Well, that's not what you wanna hear," she muses a little.
The van seems to slow down when the familiar form of Dizzy is spotted, and the vehicle slowly rolls in the other woman's direction. The lights turn off, and the engine and squeaking stop, before the driver's side door opens. Yuliya steps out, offering the other woman a confused look for a moment. "Hello, Dizzy," she greets in an uncertain voice, looking more and more nervous by the moment. "Do you know if Doctor Tithonus is around at the moment." She leaves the door open and walks closer to where the other woman stands and she extends her hand.
Julie gives a wave. "Yulia! I didn't know you'd heard of the place. Ah," She glances around the various parking spots, and says, "You know, I dunno, don't think he'll have gone far, though." She takes the hand. "What brings you by then, not an emergency or nothing, I hope." She offers the door behind her, where it's warmer.
Yuliya tilts her head to the side, and bites her bottom lip for a moment. "Well, Able recommended this place to me," she admits. "I would swear we keep pulling each other out of the fire, so to say." She seems to relax at the handshake. "Oh no, not an emergency. I was just coming past to see if I could find this place easily in the dark." She then offers a sheepish smile. "That, and I thought I was being tailed, but it proved to me that I wasn't." she seems relieved. "It is good to see a familiar face." She offers a nod of her head and ducks into the garage. "So you are mechanic here, da?"
Julie nods, stepping back to let Yuli in and …she remembers to shut the van door. "Shop teacher, really, but, yeah, basically I'm that about everywhere," she winks. " Think I mentioned I was taking classes somewhere, too. …Gonna have to do something about that fan belt soon, next time we catch you." She leads on in, past several vehicles in the rather large space, which partly houses the estate's car collection, …given over at the back to more practical uses… Presently there's a large military pickup freshly-primered and still masked-off, with a few heat lamps set up some distance to the side to keep it warm. The other side has a lot of extra stools, largely clustered around an engine on a stand and a very-rough-looking '57 Studebaker. Why, yes, there's even a blackboard there. She waves on in. "Care for a beer? was just knocking off for a while.
Yuliya slowly makes her way in, looking over things thoughtfully. "You are the shop teacher?" she replies. "I… I think I might have a couple of classes with you." She looks a bit sheepish when she admits that. "I kind of remember you saying that, but you didn't mention you were teaching it." She shakes her head. "Oh, it is only a van I use for deliveries." She takes a deep breath and then smiles. "Soon, I will not need to borrow it any more." She considers the military pickup for a few moments, before her attention shifts towards the Studebaker. Though at the offer of beer, she offers a nod of her head. "Thank you, that would be nice."
Julie smiles, "Yeah, ain't nothing to fix though, really, guess we'll call it a start on class, even, if that works out." She goes to a parts-washer, which is padlocked, though the lock pops open casually: inside, well, a couple of snowy bottles of Schaeffer come out, and she pops the tops. "Kinda there's kids around, and all." She sniffs the air and grabs an wheeled swivel chair, this one with a Valvoline logo on the back in somewhat-grubby printing. America, land of advertising swag. She offers one of the beers and a choice of seats, and indicates the truck. "A little something we, err, picked up for a field trip. Six wheel drive and everything. Bet Doc Able'd kinda dig it, actually."
"I am hoping it will work out," Yuliya admits as a hint of nervousness sneaks into her voice. "I am hoping to make a fresh start here." She does take note of where the beer is stowed away. "Why would you hide beer from children? It is only beer." Yup, it seems that she doesn't recognise beer as alcoholic. "Spirits, I can understand hiding. Especially when you have good vodka." She offers a nod of her head at that. She accepts the beer and takes a seat on one of the stools. She offers a nod of her head. "Da, I am familiar with American military transport vehicles." At the mention of Able she titters. "Tell Able that Yuliya said for you to ask about the truck in Vietnam." She takes a sip and grins.
Julie ahs. "Always figured him for a guy with stories." She adds, "This ol' gal probably does, too. They had em in Korea, anyway, Okinawa, don't know what the boys are using over in that Vietnam place, I guess, but wouldn't be too surprised. Puffs on her smoke. "Anyway, school rules and all. Kinda dont want gifted twelve year-olds getting half in the bag to see what it's like. I mean, I grew up on vino with dinner and all, but that's how it is, really."
Yuliya offers a nod of her head. "He has got a few," she comments. Her gaze shifts towards the truck again and she tilts her head to the side. "I think this truck would have a few, but I do not think there is any problems with the structure of it. Well, nothing out of the ordinary." She then purses her lips and rattles off a list of American vehicles and armoured vehicles currently active in Vietnam. At the talk of gifted twelve year olds, she does offer a nod. "Da, that does make sense. I could imagine it would be bad to have some child with super strength decide he does not like a wall."
Julie nods, there. "Well, wouldn't be surprised if there was, but they built these real tough. Engine took a while to get going right, and there was a *lot* of U-joints to do, but there ain't much to go wrong with em." She does look over again toward Yuliya. "That something you, yaknow, *do?* Spot stuff out or whatnot?" She pulls on her beer.
Yuliya purses her lips and tilts her head to the side, as if she's considering something unsaid. "Yes, it is something I do. Apparently my father had the same gift," she admits. "I do not see them. But I do feel weak points in buildings and vehicles. Armoured, fortified or just plan normal." Her brow furrows for a second. "I was trained to tackle bunkers and armoured vehicles. Blin, I was trained to do a lot of things, just not being normal." She takes another sip and then smiles. "My life is mine now."
Julie hrms. "Well, that's interesting. Thinks a bit about that whole paramilitary thing. Guess we can, ah, turn it toward fixing things, anyhow." She points at the beaten Studebaker. "Bet you could spot a few with that little guy. That's our class project this year, probably next, too, so I picked something that kinda needs… Some of about everything done." Cause all the better to learn on, that way. Puffs her smoke and considers. "Anyway, in shop we kinda work on doing things the old-fashioned way as well as maybe working in people's gifts, so's at least you can look like you're going about things the regular way." She's still apparently working on the general balance, there, the way she seems half-diverted in thought on the subject. This teaching bag is pretty new to her.
Yuliya slowly stands up with her beer in hand, and she slowly makes her way around the old Studebaker. It seems that she's concentrating on something, and she trails a finger across the paint work of the vehicle. Her brow furrows a bit, and she takes a few moments to peek under the hood. She's careful about not getting grease on her white jacket though. "I think one of the engine mounts needs some touch up," she comments. "I… I have only ever felt this many on… Well, I think I should draw a picture." She makes her way back over towards the stool to sit down.
Yuliya is currently at the back of the workshop with Dizzy. Both have beers. The Russian is currently sporting dirty blonde hair, a white blouse and jacket as well as slate grey pants and flat shoes.
Dazzler walks into the garage having heard sounds from there, and sure enough Julie is there, and it looks like she's got company. Dazzler is dressed in an expectedly dazzling dress, she probably shouldn't be anywhere near the garage in that silky number, but she has a habit of occasionally checking on everyone when she's at the Mansion. "Hi, Julie, whose your friend?" She asks, waving casually at Yuliya, "I'm Alison by the way." She doesn't bother introducing her stage persona, if Yuliya knows of her, she'd recognize it on her own.
Julie raises her beer bottle and smiles. "Hey, Ali, what's shaking?" Tilts the beer back and forth, "Care for one of these? This is Yuliya, she's new, but some of us know her from town."
Yuliya glances towards the unfamiliar voice, and then she falls silent. Which is actually somewhat unusual for the Russian girl, who shyly waves back to the musician. She looks uncertain what to do. She glances towards Dizzy, and then back towards Dazzler. However she does slide off the stool, offering it to the celebrity. "YA deystvitel'no bol'shoy poklonnik. YA mnogo slushal tvoyu muzyku. Pozhaluysta, voz'mi moye mesto!" she utters in a nervous excitement in Russian.
"If you've got a spare one, sure, I'll take it," Alison gladly takes from what is offered, carefully wading further into the garage to grab a beer from Julie. "Pleased to meet you, Yuliya, that name is Russian, isn't it?" She wonders, "bet you get a bit of a cold shoulder here and there, don't you?"
Then comes the very direct confirmation of Yuliya being Russian when she lets out that string of sounds that at the same time sounds utterly foreign and very much beautiful to Ali's musical ear. "Called it," she winks at Julie, "well, let me apologize on behalf of any idiot who gave you a hard time. I know not all Russians are our enemies, and some people just want to live a life, so…" she opens the beer given to her and takes a swig, "can you translate that to li'l ol' me? I'm afraid I didn't do Russian in high school, mostly, because I didn't do much of high school…"
Julie winks, and lightly kicks at the floor to start her swivel chair rolling over to the side… there's some sort of 'vrrr' sound as it… keeps going, and she reaches into a parts-washer cabinet to pull one out from some snow she packed in there, pops the top on an opener mounted to the thing, and rolls on back to hand it off to Dazzler. She shrugs a bit there and adds to Yuliya, "We got a few people here that speak it one way or another… Guess I was going to get around to asking if you're in some kinda trouble that way, though. Heard it ain't so good for our kind over there." She also adds, "Oh, yeah, and who Ali is, well, we try and keep that on the Q.T. like a lot around here."
Yuliya looks kind of awe struck, especially when Dazzler says her name. She takes a deep breath and tries to remember how to speak English. "I am a big fan," she admits sheepishly as she translates from Russian. "I used to listen to recorded copies smuggled in. Please take my seat." She then dips her head a little bit. "I once thought all Americans were our enemy as well, but time in France and here has taught me differently. I do not hold anything against the ignorant people. I just hold something about their leaders and my own." Her attention shifts towards Julie again, and she purses her lips and then grins. "I am not in any kind of trouble in Russia. Yet. Give it time, I will find a big hornet nest to kick again. Albania, that is a different kettle of ducks."
Alison nods in thanks to Julie as she has her beer while trying to decypher whatever it was that Yuliya just said to her. From the tone, she expects it wasn't unpleasant. "Ah! A fan, in that case, very happy to meet you," Alison extends her free hand to Yuliya, "so may as well say it, I am also known as Dazzler." Shaking her head, Alison points out, "not here for long, please, do sit down…garage not really my room," she winks, and flourishes her free hand at her dress. "We don't really match." Alison wears a rather proud smile, "see? I knew music breaks barrier, I need to thank whoever smuggled my records to you…I also think most animosity generated in the world is government fault. And people being stupid close minded."
Julie smiles a bit, and gets up to toss a clean shirt over one of the stools in case that's grimy for Dazzler's fancy dress. She laughs a bit about the 'matching' bit. Dizzy's element doesn't often seem to involve fine eveningwear. She does add, "Well, I guess don't thank em too loud, …they could still be doing it, if you know what I mean."
Yuliya steps forward to shake Dazzler's hand, and she's still grinning. "It is great to meet you," she then offers in reply. "Oh no, I really should go myself. I need to go back to my apartment, but it has been amazing to meet you." She swallows and takes a step back. "There is always a black market of things," she admits to Julie. "and thank you for the beer. I look forward to being in class!" With that said, the Russian girl makes her way outside, offering a little waggle of her fingers as she goes.
"Black Market?" Alison opens her eyes wide as she turns to look at Julie, "just what is that girl involved with? Is she attending this school?"
Julie nods, "Guess so. She just got outta Russia, though, and they ban a lotta music and books …and stuff from the West there, you know, Commie things to do and all. Sure does sound like they had her mixed up in some stuff, though. She's a bit suspicious there, perhaps, but clearly seems to like Yuliya generally. "Doc Able seems to know more about it, thought I might see what he's got to say." She said there was stories. She winces a bit as Yuliya's fan belt squeals when she starts the engine. "I'm gonna have to fix that when I get a chance."
"In that case I'm really honored that my music is something someone would think to smuggle over ther," Alison looks a little bit pleased with herself. Ok, a lot pleased with herself. "Well, I think I'll spare my dress any further danger. Thanks for the beer, Julie, and being introduced to a Russian fan, didn't even know I had those. Do you suppose there's a chance I won't be killed in Russia?" A hypothetical question, no doubt.
Julie smiles a bit. "I really dont' know, bet they'd try to use it for their own purposes if they let you in, though. I dunno about playing, though. They say you aren't even supposed to have rock and roll or anything. Maybe some records'll have to do." She says. "Anyhow, good dreams, then, I got a few books to hit, speaking of classes."
"I somehow think that if I even ask about a potential show in Russia, I'll have the FBI or something after me, won't I?" Alison shakes her head, "we live in a pretty stupid world. G'night, Julie," and with that she leaves the garage.