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"Mmm," Emmett gave a nod to the name offered to her. Deb. She had been about to say it herself, but a warning hit her ears and forced her eyebrows to raise. She exhaled a short, airy breath that was borderline a laugh. Her hands worked with precision, insuring there wouldn't be any breaks in the seal she made for the makeshift headlight cover, but her eyes wandered back to her. Because she couldn't resist a little temptation, too.
"My pleasure." It was. Really. She double checked the tape around the outer brim of the headlight, insuring that, if it rained, no water would get through until it could be replaced with a real part.
It wasn't like Emmett to stay still, so the moment it was finished she was standing again, walking back to her own car, and the person sitting in it. "How 'bout that ride?"
"I'm the person you should just call anyway," Emmett quipped back, eyebrows shooting upward playfully. Though years have passed, she felt the familiarity of a fun friend when talking to Alice. She watched as the brunette downed her beer, and was quick to follow form with her own. It was probably needed, anyway. Because it wasn't that Emmett was a bad dancer, but she wasn't particularly good, either.
That didn't stop her from following, though. She weaved through the crowd until finding an open enough spot. "Show me your moves," Emmett jokingly demanded as she moved steadily to the tempo.
â–º What is your plotting philosophy? This is about the characters. My characters will stick to character, no matter what. They don't bend for the sake of a plot idea. That being said, I don't mind the basic idea for a thread but I don't really like planning because you never know how it will actually turn out. If it's a particular situation, that's fine but it has to be realistic for the characters.
ACTIVITY
â–º How often can you reply to a thread? I can usually reply at least once every other day, if not once every day to a thread. Though note that my weekends are usually busy, so I'm significantly slower with posting/might not be able to until Monday rolls around. I'm often at pace with the person I'm threading with.
â–º How long are you willing to wait for a reply to a thread? Usually about two weeks tops, though if there isn't a particular reason for it I might lose interest or take a while to reply as well.
â–º What about volleying? I love a good volley when the time is right for both parties.
â–º Tagging Go ahead, tag me.
â–º Contacting you? Either Discord or on my plot page (HERE).
â–º Anything else? C'mon talk to me.
LIMITS
â–º Godmodding I'm not a fan of godmodding. I prefer if someone were to say that their character was attempting to do an action against my characters. Also know I'm not unreasonable. Nine times out of ten, the action will follow through.
â–º Romance Naturally blooming romance is fine, but I don't like to really plan things out, because it's about the characters. A ship could look good in theory, but that doesn't mean it'll actually work out. Put two characters together, see how the chemistry is.
â–º Violence Violence doesn't bother me, but there needs to be a good, realistic reason for it. I'll play it out, but again this is about the characters and not the player winning. I'm happy to write my character losing (verbal, physical, anything) as long as it makes sense, and I hope that you would look at it similarly.
The car was her pride and joy, just as much as the garage it sat in was. Sixties vehicles were instantly classic, but there was something about this eighties beast that she loved. Her hand pressed against the cool read surface, giving it a couple taps with her finger as she watched the girl slide into the seat. It was when she stood again did Emmett even realize that she hadn't even put the replacement bulb in her headlight yet.
"Not strangers if I know your name," she said then, dragging her foot back before committing to returning to the Beetle, but that didn't stop her from looking back at the girl, eyebrows rising. "And I meant a place to sit in the garage, but I'll give you a ride too." This time, the corner of her mouth dragged up to match the smirk offered to her before she started to replace the bulb. It was only a matter of seconds before she was reaching for clear plastic and some tape.
Lucky was right, and Emmett's grin grew at the accusation. She had no shame in it, and when she caught sight of the wonky smirk offered to her, her gaze lingered for an extra moment. She wasn't sure what she'd pin this girl as, but when she said she worked at a hair salon, the blonde wasn't entirely surprised, given the bright nature of her hair. "I do need to get a touch up," Emmett explained, gesturing to her roots. She slipped a glove off, fingertips grazing just above her ear where her hair was buzzed short. "I usually do this bit myself 'cause it grows so fast, but it wouldn't hurt to have a professional take a look and probably fix it." It looked even enough, but having a knowing eye take a look was always a comfort.
"Oh, here." Emmett crossed over to her own vehicle, a little hatchback that was more powerful than it appeared. She opened the passenger side door. "Sorry, there isn't much extra seating here, but if you want." The mechanic gestured inside the Fiat.
Usually people didn't hang around too often, and Emmett was happy for the change. Though it meant she had completely forgotten to offer the bright haired girl a seat; now her focus was consumed by the vehicle itself, even if she was listening. "That's what happens when you find love." With cars. People? Nah. Transmissions spoke to her more clearly than any person could, but this one knew how to keep Emmett talking.
With the glass cleared, Emmett pushed the chair back to stand up, glancing over to her as she did so. "You know it." Though the title of owner was a year old by now, Emmett's chest puffed up with pride. She walked over to a cabinet, opening it to find it stuffed with small boxes. Bulbs were the one thing that were easy to keep in stock, and people came for somewhat regularly. Even so, she was lucky to have one that would fit a car like hers. "Yeah, gotta make it like home, you know? I mean, it is home. Got it all upstairs." Some might not enjoy the idea of living where you work, for Emmett it was the perfect situation. She caught sight of the bulb in question, jumping up to reach it with ease before she turned back to the girl and her bug. "So what do you do?"
Yoga and dancing. The idea put a grin on Emmett's features. She wouldn't have guessed it, but once Alice explained, it made so much sense for a free spirit like her. She finished the liquid in her glass with another gulp, and motioned for another drink on her tab, dark eyes turning towards the dance floor. She had to wonder what sort of moves her high school friend pulled out, and her eyebrows rocked upwards when she thought on it a little too hard.
Her attention snapped back to the conversation when a question hit the air. It forced a hard laugh out of the blonde, holding both of her hands up in surrender. "You got me. Married and four kids." Though joking, Emmett's tone offered flat delivery. She was never good with sarcasm. Her nose crinkled at the thought of it being truth. "Nah, I'm still just a grease monkey. I own a garage just a few miles away."
With her glass filled, she stood up again. "Wanna dance? Seeing as that's what you do now."
"Yeah, I don't mind." Emmett was always up to answer any questions someone had on their vehicle - they deserved to know and be given an honest answer. The stereotypes of garages that just overcharge for unnecessary bullshit always bothered her, so she'd explain anything.
As the girl got into her car, Emmett made her way back into the garage, immediately grabbing a wheeled chair to put her at perfect height with the headlight, as well as a trash can for any remaining glass. Her foot still tapped to the beat of the music, but she didn't bother turning it back up now that she had company. Slipping gloves on, Emmett began carefully removing the glass away without paying attention to the state of her garage or the eyes that looked around it.
It was cozy. While it wasn't the most organized place, everything had a home, and a touch of personality colored the walls with posters of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Wonder Woman, as well as a LA Kings hockey jersey. This was an extension of her home, after all.
Though she didn't look up at the girl, a warm smile played about her lips at the question. "My first car was a '97 Toyota Paseo," she explained. "I thought it was the coolest thing, but it broke down a lot." She recalled the first time it had, right on the side of the highway. She was so pissed. "So I did everything I had to to keep it running, and I just really liked it."
Ah, so she moved with Bellefonte. Really, it makes sense. Before the school changed locations, it felt a bit weird being in a place with a smaller meta population. Now they were everywhere; it was refreshing. In school, she didn't really think there was comfort in numbers, but she supposed wrong. Slipping into the seat beside Alice, she set her drink down on the wooden bar top, but still kept her hand on it.
Emmett laughed again, though with a little more heart. "Yeah, I didn't want to stay in Montana, that's for sure. My mum lives like forty-five minutes out too, so she's happy I'm back in the state." It was weird that the coastal town she moved to was where Bellefonte ended up. The idea was still strange to her. "So what have you been up to, anyway?"
"Not with a beauty like this." As much as Emmett would have loved to have vintage Volkswagen parts hanging around, she didn't. Insta-fix was probably impossible in the entire state. Emmett pressed her hands to her knees and stood up. "Don't worry about the bulb, since I just have one around here. And I'll get you a price for the fixture after we get this wrapped up."
She gestured into the open bay door, offering a warm smile to the little one that was starting to appear on the girl's features. "Wanna pull in and we'll get to work? Shouldn't be more than 15 minutes, if you can spare it."
A classic Beetle. Emmett's eyebrows shot up the moment she caught proper sight of it. She had an appreciation for cars, but even more so for older cars. Her own car was older than herself, but this was proper classic, and some bastard completely destroyed one of the rounded headlights. Now that was a sin. She squatted down, inspecting the damage with one hand wrapped around the top of the bumper.
"Looks like it was probably a truck that backed up with a tow ball hitch," she explained. "It's the right height and explains why nothing else was really damaged." Though that likely didn't help. This town was full of trucks - and jerks that drove them too.
"I'll have to order a replacement fixture. It's gonna take a couple days." The unfortunate truth about being a small business without too many spare parts hanging around, and she knew there'd be no way to get a replacement for a vintage Beetle in town. "I have a bulb that should fit. For now I can swap the bulb and put a little clear plastic over it. Won't be pretty, but it means you could drive it until the fixture comes in."
Holy shit, it was her. She knew that look, and was thankful that it softened when Alice had actually realized it was her talking. As she drew closer, Emmett took another swig of her drink, letting out an airy laugh. What had it been, like five years since she left Montana? Here was a face she never thought she'd see again.
When she felt those eyes take in her form, Emmett straightened her back a bit. The woman standing before her always had a presence about her that Emmett didn't know how to describe, and the muscles along her spine responded accordingly to being looked at. Over the years, a decent amount had changed. A handful of tattoos covered her form now, though most of them hidden. The bleaching of her hair was much less subtle.
"So do you," Emmett replied, gesturing to her with a hand. "What brings you to Oregon?"
The corners of her mouth quickly pulled downwards at the story given to her. Hit-and-runs sucked. She'd seen more of them come into her garage than she'd like, given that the owner almost always had to deal with it out of their own pocket. Emmett gave a sympathetic nod, her mouth drawing open to drop a small vowel of acknowledgement. "Ah."
She shoved the rag into her back pocket, stretching her shoulders as she did so. "That's shit," she offered, even if it really didn't help the conversation. So she started moving, walking over to the wall of the garage to press a button and open the empty bay door. As it opened, she caught a glimpse of the vehicle, and started towards it. "Well let's take a look first and see where we can go from here. I'm sure we can figure something out."
Sometimes paying three times more for a drink was worth just to be able to sit at a bar. Tonight was one of those nights. There wasn't really a reason other than wanting to be outside of the house. She usually didn't go out to meet people - or to bring them back home - but usually it just happened. For now, she just wanted a drink.
Free of grease stains, the mechanic cleaned up pretty well. Black suited her, and she kept with it. Tight jeans stopped above her ankles, complimented by fashionable loafers. A jacket hung loosely off her form, underneath revealing the only lighter shade she wore - a white shirt. Nice enough to get her into a place where she likely didn't belong, given her day job. It wasn't her usual pick, but it also wasn't like Emmett to commit to a place for too long. This was new, and just a little bit higher class.
Her hand curled around a short glass, amber liquid sloshing around a large ice cube. She brought it to her lips, hoping the effects would start sooner rather than later. Whiskey burned, but she preferred it over almost anything else. Her tongue caught the residual liquor on her lips just as someone walked in. Though she could only see her from behind, it was well worth the stare. She was hot. And when she turned, Emmett realized she recognized her.
"Alice?" It was just as much a question as it was a call for her attention. "The fuck you doing here?"
