14987/Working Wheels

Working Wheels
Date of Scene:	24 April 2023
Location:	Mercy's Garage - Fort Joseph, Haven
Synopsis:	Mercy's Garage is about to get an unusual customer. Boundaries are established then it's back to business as usual.
Cast of Characters:	Mercy Thompson, Domino

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Mercy Thompson has posed:
The front facade of Mercy's Garage has the typical look of any other commercial building. It's a little pitted, a little dirty, and there's a little 'open' sign hanging on the front door.

However, if one were to walk to the side of the building, where most of the parking space is located, they'll find the actual garage proper. The garage door is currently up which allows any number of casual glances within from passerbys.

Music drifts outward, something with a swift and hard beat, and occasionally, one might catch a glimpse of a figure moving from behind the bulk of a car, its hood raised up.

If one gets close enough one might hear the occasional mutter from the woman that works beneath the hood. "You are not dying on me." Mutters Mercy Thompson to the car she's working on. "Mrs. Finley needs you for another year."

Domino has posed:
Those little 'open' signs are useful for foot traffic but a lot harder to see while driving, particularly if it involves a zippy sports bike darting through inner city traffic. What becomes far more useful for advertising is having the garage doors open where the shop itself can be seen, including lights and activity.

It's enough of a sign that the sports bike in question doubles back after about an hour, getting tucked away in a corner of the lot where it's both accessible but not likely to be in the way. The rider takes a moment to set a helmet on the handlebars then wanders right on in. Why not, right?

The only other announcement Mercy will get is some goth looking chick suddenly appearing along the open hood as if she had been there all along helping to diagnose the vehicle's ailments. Domino only speaks up when she's noticed, offering a simple "Nice place."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
The background noise of the city is a constant sort of white noise to Mercy Thompson's ears. It's soothing, in its repetativeness, in its consistency. The added pitch of a bike zipping past and then an hour later, zipping back and while heard, it isn't necessarily reacted to.

These are all normal sounds of the city.

Known things.

What does cause her ears to prick is the casual steps in her garage. Idly, her knuckles tighten around the wrench she was using to loosen various bolts.

It's not long from when Domino appeared alongside her that the coyote will straightened from her mechanic's slouch. It's only a little pivot for her two twist just enough to lay eyes on the other woman, and while there's a slight widening at the sight of Domino, there isn't necessarily, shock, or surprise, or both. "Thanks. I kind of like it myself."

There's a moment of silence from Mercy as she sorts out the remembered sounds prior to Domino's appearance, and with the echo of a bike ringing in her eyes, Mercy asks. "Bike problems?"

Domino has posed:
It seems perfectly obvious the pale faced visitor is who rode in on the motorcycle given the biker jacket she's still tucked into. Black jeans, black boots, fingerless black gloves, she's definitely the type.

As for the question, her stoic demeanor holds firm. "Bike's alright, so far. Guess I was hoping this shop might be a bit bigger" she remarks with another casual glance about.

"Do you often have wheels for sale?" she asks while turning her attention fully back to the other woman, watching her with the air of someone who is absolutely judging one's character while getting a read on them. "I tend to be real hard on anything with an engine in it so whatever repair magic you might not be able to manage would leave me needing a replacement."

Just like that, like the goth chick has simply decided 'this is my new mechanic' and not given Mercy a say in the matter.

"Domino, by the way" she offers along with an outstretched hand.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
'... hoping this shop might be a bit bigger'

Those words cause Mercy Thompson's eyebrows to rise high upon her forehead. Her hand, the one that holds the wrench, drops to her hip. "Well, I'll just have to talk to management about your concerns, won't I."

Her tone is heavily laced with a dry sort of amusement. Especially since she's all of management up in these here parts of Mercy's Garage.

THat next question, about whether she sells or not, causes Mercy to step back from the car she was working on. Casually, she reaches up and slams the hood down - of course, waiting to make sure Domino is out of the way before doing so. "Not often, but sometimes a client just wants to get rid of something and I've been known to find an interested buyer. Even if it's just a scrapper." The slightest of frowns just begins to edge Mercy's mouth downward, as she considers Domino.

The name seems to help as Mercy taps her little nametag with the head of the wrench. "Mercy." The extended hand has Mercy tucking her tool into a thigh pocket on her coveralls, and casually, easily, she grips the other woman's hand. "What exactly do you do?" Is her perfectly logical question to this perfectly logical visitor.

Domino has posed:
Mercy's remark about taking it up to management is given a grin but Domino lets the matter drop.

What doesn't get dropped is how she's watching the other lady. Stiff body language. Protective. Borderline aggressive. Hmm.

Dom likewise steps back from the car so nothing important gets lost when the hood is closed. "Maybe I'll luck out and catch one at the right time" she openly considers, not ready to rule out the idea.

"'Mercy?'" she repeats, now acting like somehow the mechanic has the stranger of names between the two!

Whether any response is given here she doesn't -totally- shy away from the next question, though it is downplayed when the albino claims to be a "Bounty hunter. Sometimes people take it a bit personally, you know how it goes."

Which Mercy probably doesn't, but whatever.

"Hey, everything alright here? Am I coming on too strong?" the goth asks with a toothy smile. "If you're having any trouble my schedule's got some openings."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
The answer to just what Domino does - bounty hunting - causes Mercy to reassess the woman across from her. "Yeah, I suppose they would take that a little personally." She agrees, then with a lean of her hip against the now hood-down car, Mercy asks. "So, are you like a good witch or bad witch? I've known a few bounty hunters in my time and I've found some who've skirted all sorts of lines for their jobs."

However, at that last question, Mercy actually quirks a half sort of grin, her words holding a pinch of sass to them now. "Coming on too strong? I'm pretty sure that's exactly how you like coming on, but no you're not. We're okay. I'm just making sure you're not entangling my shop in any problems I can't handle, that's all."

And to prove just how comfortable Mercy is she eases away from the car and walks over to a small cart that holds a little portable coffee pot and a handful of mismatched mugs. "You want some?"

Domino has posed:
'A good witch or a bad witch' causes Domino to hesitate though it seems to buy her some time as Mercy continues to speak, and gets hung up in some questions heading back her way.

What starts as a smile turns into a knowing grin when the mechanic accurately calls the albino out. "Cutting to the chase is a dying art" she suggests.

Coffee? A few more seconds gained! Dom shows what could be a genuine moment of weakness when muttering a choice four letter word which is immediately followed by a more audible "Yes." To the small cart she follows where she's about to show her proverbial hand.

"You got me. I'm the wicked witch of the south, but I keep it professional. I don't dump my problems on anyone else's step. If something does manage to slip out then I'll take care of it. I'm here because you know your way around an engine, not a gun."

Presumably. Though it sure would be a spiffy perk.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Only after Mercy's back is turned does she subtly scent the air, gleaning what information she can from the scents that roll off of Domino.

Gun oil, the heavy metal of guns, the every day sorts of scents, leather too, of course, but no lies.

Good. Good. It allows the woman's shoulders to edge just a little lower, the tension not so tight now.

When Domino accepts a cup of coffee, Mercy fills two cups, one that looks battered and the words faded upon it, and the other that looks newer, with a picture of a cartoon cat on it. Mercy offers the cartoon cat mug to Domino.

"The south, huh?" Mercy says around a sip of coffee, which is still hot enough to steam, thanks to the little coffee pot and its warmer. As for the rest of what Domino says, Mercy listens with an attentive ear, not seeming shocked or in awe of what Domino has to say. Perhaps she really has been around other bounty hunters? But it's that remark about knowing her way around an engine, not a gun, that causes her to nod. "I didn't realize my little garage had such a reputation, but yeah, I know my way around an engine. Volkswagen's are my specialty, but I can handle just about any vehicle, and if I can't I'll tell you straight up."

Domino has posed:
The goth lady stops short when being handed a mug. No, THAT mug. She's eyeing the graphic of a cartoon cat before making a move for the cup, itself. Whatever moment she might have been having is quickly downplayed with a softly voiced "Cute."

'The south' isn't elaborated any. "Call it a hunch" she instead suggests regarding the garage's reputation. "I'm usually pretty good with these sorts of calls."

Mention of Volkswagens brings a subtle yet thoughtful look to Domino. "Just the 'dub's or does that cover other branches on their tree? Audis, Lamborghinis..? Goddamn it's been an age since I've driven a Golf. Fun cars. Fall a bit short of my needs though. But Audis, those tend to get some miles with me."

With another battery of questions left in the air she takes the moment to 'refuel,' finding the brew a bit hotter than anticipated if her expression is any indication.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
"I can get behind hunches." Mercy says, "You should always trust your gut, rarely does it steer you wrong."

Unaware of just how often Domino's 'gut' is often so very correct.

Still, when Domino reveals that she knows a thing or two about cars, Mercy's eyebrows raise upward again, and this time a more natural looking grin lifts the corners of her mouth upward. "Do I know everything about them - no, but who does? But I can work on what you named, even if my garage doesn't always see those sorts of cars often."

"The Golf is a good reliable car. Practicability and financially sound for the average sort of person or family's needs. I'm not surprised it falls short of what you might need." Mercy takes another sip of her coffee and sets it back on the little cart. "Just so we're clear I'm not a fan of working on stolen vehicles. Mercy's Garage isn't any sort of chop shop." She slings her hands into the big pockets at her hips as she gazes over at Domino.

Domino has posed:
"Couldn't agree with you more" Dom smirks.

Ooh, what's this? Did she catch Mercy off guard? "I have my moments" she again so casually dismisses a glimmer of automotive knowledge. "If you're willing to branch out into lesser known territory then I'm willing to pay. I have a particular fondness for turn of the century BMW's. Back when the front grilles looked more like kidneys rather than manhole covers" she says while wrinkling up her face.

Yeah, yeah. The Golf sales pitch does get a -slight- eye-rolling from Domino. "They're fine and they're comfy and they're economical, sure" she concurs without adding any 'buts' like 'there's no room for my fifty caliber' or 'it takes so much more work trying to stuff a body in the cargo bay.'

In response to Mercy's next comment an empty hand comes forward as if she were swearing in at a courtroom. "The thought never crossed my mind, but noted." A chop shop this place is not, though rolling in with a stolen car is always a concern with present company.

"I'll keep my rides legit so long as you don't ask too many questions about the damages. Cash for services rendered, we'll keep your books all squeaky clean. Deal?"

Mercy Thompson has posed:
"BMWs are nice." Agrees Mercy, because they are a very nice car. "Can't say they're my particular go to car, but to each their own."

"Though I whole-heartedly agree with the classics." Continues the coyote as she warms up to the subject. "I've been working on restoring a '77 Volkswagen Rabbit, though maybe that's too strong of a work. Right now it's more parts than actual car, but it'll get there. It'll get there."

Either way, when Domino raises her hand in that gesture of truth and promise, Mercy nods. She slips her hands out of her pocket and between two fingers is a card. She offers it to Domino, "Good. I'll try my best to not ask too many questions and if I ever cross a line just let me know. Sometimes my curiosity can get the better of me.", if the card is taken Domino will find it reads 'Mercy's Garage', with telephone number, email, fax number (because she sure does still use an old style fax machine) and address.

"The number goes to the front desk but if I don't answer it'll pop back to regular phone where you can leave a message if I don't answer."

It seems Mercy has agreed to take Domino on as a customer with the handing over of her card.

Domino has posed:
In what might well be a surprise to both involved Domino's expression lights up some when Mercy mentions her current project. "A Rabbit, no way! I once toured three states in one of those. Bit cramped, but being able to blow past gas stations sure helped me get back some lost time."

The offered card is taken with another one being offered back. "Ask -too- many questions and I may be tipping you for your silence" she (not quite) kids.

By comparison the card being returned is a bit more artistic, finished front and back in gloss black with a white outline of a domino playing piece. Six dots and one with a phone number worked into its lines.

"Right on. And hey, not saying you can't handle your own affairs but if you ever find yourself in a bit over your head... Let's say I like to support small business" she offers with a lopsided smile.

"But first," she holds up an index finger, "I've gotta find the keys to something nice for you to play with."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
"When I'm finished restoring her I'll let you see her." Mercy says with another one of those more-natural-grins of hers, obviously warming up to the fact that Domino is an enthusiast. "I can't tell you how many times I've had to list the pros to friends who say I'm just restoring a pile of junk."

"As if it's junk." Mutters the woman more for her own benefit than Domino's, but it's loud enough to be heard.

At Domino's own card, Mercy accepts it and gives it a once over, flicking it front to back and then front again, as she considers the artistic license that was used to create it. "Very professional. Clearly you didn't get them made at Kinko's for the half off your first two hundred."

She tucks the card into the pocket at her hip, expression turning slightly surprised at Domino's offer of help, should she ever need it. "Oh, thanks. I'll keep that in mind, but I'm pretty good at staying a step ahead of trouble." Which is a total total utter lie, but she still says it, and then she grins. "I just run. Real fast like."

The offer of finding her something nice to play with is waved aside. "Nah, just bring in whatever you need fixed. Doesn't have to be fancy."