𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖍 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍

𝖎𝖘 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖍

[batteredbruises]

ɪɴᴛʀᴏᴅᴜᴄɪɴɢ... ₕₐᵣₚₑᵣ Gₐₗₗ

Walking through the picturesque streets of Cardinal Hill, you find Harper Gall, the 28 year old mechanic at Romano's ( & guitarist in Wrathchild ) originally from Tucson, Arizona. Living alongside them in such a small town, you know that they're meticulous and cynical, but what you might not know is that they are a witch, and that they’re hiding something…

The only person she ever had was her father, spending her days in a corner of his auto body shop in Arizona. From doodling to writing mediocre angry-teenage-girl songs, that was the place where she felt the most at home. It's also where she picked up the craft, working on cars for as long as she could remember, joking that her first steps were towards a 1971 Ford Falcon. Most of her life, she expected to grow up and take over the shop her father held near and dear. Her mother vanished before she was even a year old, never hearing about the woman who her father did everything to forget. Not that it mattered; anyone who left them didn't deserve to know them, according to Harper.

She knew she was different but everything came together when she was thirteen. It presented her with abilities she'd only wished she had, and Harper kept it to herself. That was nothing that would've interested her father, only worrying him further about his only daughter, so she made sure he never found out. Her familiar is a sable ferret named Noodle, whom her father accepted into his home after she made up a story about finding him. On a fateful day in May when she was only seventeen, everything changed. Her father collapsed from a heart attack in the autobody shop she called home. She did all she could to keep him alive, even her newfound powers having no use in keeping her father on the side of the living. The place she loved the most was sold off not too long after that to pay off the bills and funeral costs, with barely any left to keep Harper hopeful.

After he passed away, Harper lost her focus and purpose in life; that's when she *redacted*. After traveling around to find work, she landed on Cardinal Hill, having had enough of the city and wanting to start a real life for herself. It took all the money she had left to rent a room, but as she became clean of her past, her future was able to find her. A place so different from Tucson and somehow exactly what she needed to settle down for the first time since her father's passing. Harper calls Cardinal Hill home and has for a few years now, even finding herself as a guitarist in a metal band. She's done all she can to leave her past behind her, yet a part of her can't help but feel haunted no matter how far she runs.

amber midthunder . pansexual . she/her . cis woman

she plays the bass & guitar but has been mastering bass since having played guitar since her youth. her father bought her one before he died and she's made sure to treasure it, knowing he'd want it to get used. he also was the one to buy her first guitar, which she still has to this day.

she is heavily tattooed and considers each one to be a piece of art, even the ugly ones. shes often looking for changes to get new ones or add another piercing. right now her ears are filled, her nose has a hoop, and her nipples are pierced.

recently sold her motorcycle to buy an old truck she plans to fix up.

📌 : Pinboard

[batteredbruises]

closed starter for eve (@lovesspell) located at the ceramic cup

It'd been months in the making but the big day was finally upon them and Harper's creation was complete. Amory had been a secret muse at first. She would come in before the rush before using Eve's business as an excuse to sketch the creature from memory, catching a glimpse whenever possible. Then slowly taking down bit by bit whenever they weren't paying attention and the familiar was perched perfectly to capture the light. Today it was ready for Eve to see, wrapped in brown paper and black ribbon waiting to be torn apart.

"Happy birthday," she sang holding out the gift that had been tucked behind her back. "Sorry it's a little late." Harper needed a few days to let the paint dry unless she skipped the wrapping which to her was non-negotiable. "Go on, open it," the girl urged, impatient to see their reaction after this many months of work.

[cosmicretreat]

[batteredbruises]

closed starter for allie (@livrelcvande) located at ramano's garage

Whenever a woman came in, Harper took the time to make sure they felt informed and heard during their appointment. After having her own trouble with mechanics talking over her, acting like they knew everything, she made sure no other girl had to feel that way here. This time, the car hadn’t needed much work except for the fact that Harper noticed her tires were starting to bald, requiring more than just a rotation but less than a four-wheel change. While they wanted to make money as much as the next business, she wouldn’t be doing so by overselling a customer on services they didn’t require. That wouldn’t have gone over well with their boss, but she didn’t quite care what he thought when Harper had more experience than half the guys there.

“The oil change is only 50 bucks, and should last you another 6 months or like 5,000 miles,” she explained. Not every cars timeline was the same. "Your front tires don't look great, though. They don't need to be replaced today, but you shouldn't wait too long."

[batteredbruises]

closed starter for lucky (@innocentcurse) located at lucky's home

As promised, she showed up prepared, her beat-up red Chevrolet C/K full of mismatched tools for whatever they found under the hood. While Harper knew it wouldn't be anything catastrophic after it'd been through the garage, and it'd been given a clean enough bill of health to leave. Not that she hadn't seen cars worse for wear drive home, ones that she was surprised still ran, but it was up to the owner what work they wanted (and didn't) to get. Harper had gotten a little more than she bargained for when Lucky came in, and now she had weekend plans.

What started as a normal day at the garage led her to show up at his front door with a toolbox in hand, but she was intercepted at the garage. The door was already open, Harper glancing over his car as if sizing up her next opponent; every vehicle had something to say. "Oh, hey again," the raven-haired girl greeted when Lucky seemed to appear suddenly. She'd put in a little more effort than when she went to work. Instead of her coveralls, she'd thrown on a pair of black jeans, a grey t-shirt, and her everyday wear oversized black leather jacket, along with a slight red tint to her lips and a thin line of black eyeliner. Even she was embarrassed at the fact she'd done all that while silently hoping he noticed. "I brought the goods," Harper's eyebrow arched as she spoke. "You got a cold beer for me?" Not that it was why she came, but she could use it to avoid overthinking a simple situation like this, or what should've been.

[batteredbruises]

07/28/1991 : Old Mill Diner

It was supposed to be another day. She'd worked as normal, even beat her own fastest oil change, and was in the middle of treating herself to a stack of pancakes. Breakfast for dinner was something people overlooked, according to Harper. After a long shift where her hands were still stained and electrical tape tightly wrapped around a slice on her finger, nothing tasted better than this.

She'd been sitting at the bar by herself, enjoying the hustle and bustle as her entertainment. At least the chaos here wasn't her problem but that of the petite blonde waitress. The only thing Harper needed to worry about was cleaning her plate once it arrived, which seemed like a quite likely feat. When the waitress came by with her tower of fluffy goodness, the girl excused herself to wash the rest of the work off her hands.

The world shifted. A weight that felt as new as familiar in her chest, but she continued to put one foot in front of the other. Even though the weather twisted, the sky screamed down at the tiny town that lay in its wake. Maybe she'd taken in a little too much exhaust that day or needed to eat; that must be what pulled the energy from her like unstitching a seam. From her toes to the top of her head, she felt it.

A clammy palm pressed open the door to the bathroom, hoping to find relief once water splashed against her face, but was faced with the horror that hid in the back of her mind. The one she'd been running from since she saw it. The one that she found escape in substances. The one that was in the room with her now. "Dad..." His name crept out of her mouth, terrified at what might've been the response, but she stepped back; it must've been in her head. Harper is only a child again, uncertain of the world, and powerless to the situation at hand. She felt empty.

An uncertain hand reached out again to face what might've lay behind the door, but this time there was a voice, it crept into her bones and shook the foundation of the diner itself. It's enough to give the girl courage to push it open once again and prepare for what awaits her.

The Old Mill Diner bathroom.

A beat. Had it all been in her head? Her fingertips were tingling as if they'd caught a car battery. Did anyone else feel it?

The girl calmed herself down enough to go through the door, staring at herself in the sink to ground herself in the familiar image of her own reflection. "You're fine. You're not going crazy," she assured herself with a series of affirmative nods. Her palmfuls of water rinsed away the confusion for a moment and gave relief to the heat still in her cheeks. Whatever just happened, Harper knew she'd keep to herself.

[ritualove]

Jules, much to his surprise, was enjoying talking to Harper. She wasn't so artificial like the other members of her band, she actually had a personality, a sense of humour. She hasn't formed the stick up her ass that the other members have. He actually laughed when she joked alongside him about their inadequacies, a forced artificial one, but wrapped around the fragrant plastic, there was some trace of authenticity. Jules felt like listening to Harper was like listening to a person mind controlled. A whole lot of denial about the effect, or future effect, it is going to have on them. "I love my mess, because it's mine, carefully cultivated, manicured, and it gives great head." He said, grin on his face, hiding some sense of... Protectiveness? Care? Emotion? Hiding something that he was feeling inside of him, or refuisng to feel inside of him. "Be careful of what shit you get yourself caught up in. With Wrathchild is a lake full, no, a fucking ocean full. And it looks like you just got on a pair of rubber boots and not much else." Jules said, his words littered with his usual trash, but actually having some meaning, showing some emotion, something deeper than just the epidermis, more range than just the 2-4khz range of intelligibility. Hearing himself back, the air he told his lungs to push through his mouth reaching his own ears, he realised this was far too out of character for him. Adjusting his tone, he tried to save face, "I don't know, you just seem too good for them. I've been there you know, gone through all that, it's a hell hole. But who fucking cares whatever do whatever you want." His attention was more and more directed to his guitar as he talked, like he really didn't care at all, about the conversation, about her, about anyone. About anything. Like usual.

Jules agreed with what Harper said about people writing inauthentic music wholeheartedly. "Yeah I fucking know right? Everything is so numb nowadays. Nothing matters." He blatantly rolled his eyes, it was something he thought about a lot. Despite his agreeance in this, the lyrics Jules writes aren't necessarily true to his own life. He meant everything he wrote, but it was all top layer stuff, politics, hatred, getting fucked up. It never went deep, it never went into Jules' life outside of partying and destruction. It actually summed up Jules pretty well, top layer, like an iceberg only showing it's tip. Or pond scum, which would probably be more accurate for Jules. He smiled at Harper mentioning he was the first person who has read her music, "Nice, glad to pop your cherry." He side, almost like a footnote. He could've made a thousand more jokes, but he didn't want to be dismissive, he knew showing other people your work was the hardest part of, well, anything. He was actually was a little proud to pop her cherry in this regard. "Good idea not to trust them. Probably immediately start shit talking it. Especially don't think they'll care enough to play it, even a jam like this might be too far." He was shaking his head like a disaproving old man. He kind of was.

Harper's musical request was quickly accepted and Jules played what he was asked to play without any word. He watched her intently, probably a little too intently, as she sang the short snippit. "Yeah it was! Fuck, I'm gonna have to poach you for three-oh-two now." He said, even if the poaching part was sarcastic. "You mind if I play something that I think would rock?" He asked. He felt the muse flowing through his blood, better than any intravenous crap he's ever had. He waited for approval, before continuing with the note that Harper had asked for initially, and travelling along a path that his fingers told him to go. He went at a comfortable enough pace for Harper to be able to follow along, but he watched her closely, for anything. A smile, a frown, he wanted to know how she felt about it, and it showed on his face.

[batteredbruises]

༝༝ 🖤 ༝༝

The band would stay as such, regardless of what bad decisions he wanted to mix with his music; she knew better. Not that Harper did feelings or situationships all that well in the first place. Instead of dwelling on that, she decided to focus on the issues that might one day boil over for the other. While she didn't wish bad upon them, she wouldn't deny the satisfaction of a front seat to disaster. "I don't mix work and pleasure." That was the simple version of what could've become a verbal novel. If Jules wanted to be a mixologist, then who was Harper to judge? They both seemed to have made choices considered questionable by the other, and in a way, she liked it.

He wouldn't have been what she expected from the stories. Not that her bandmates were good judges of character, as they were all misfit toys themselves. Still, there was something whimsical about the myth that turned out not to fill the shoes that her friends created. Their creation was taking form, and she could begin losing herself in the music before acknowledging any consequences. Jules didn't need to be her enemy, at least not without reason; she had enough of those with purpose. Besides, music couldn't be constrained like that. "Where did this whole feud shit begin with anyway? What's the history?" Harper couldn't recall the details, not like she had ever outright asked before. In some ways, she felt it was easier to talk to Jules, whose opinions didn't matter like her bandmates. Situationally, she couldn't lose.

A laugh burst through her typically frozen stare, and a nod of agreement joined the party. "I don't know," she teased before leaning back on the couch that backed her place on the floor and motioned for him to take the metaphorical floor. Her eyes clasp shut to absorb each note as they danced from his fingers to her eardrums. A ringed index finger tapped along her leg to the rhythm, expression scrunching as he riffed, feeling it through her as she invested in the story he played. The pause was when she jumped roped into conversations, and her gaze shot over to him. "That was actually kind of fucking sick." Harper sat up, flipped a few pages forward in her journal, then waved him to play again. "Can we run it back one more time with that?" Then she filled the space with a few of the words that were scribbled on their own, finally finding where they might fit into the greater picture of the song.

[batteredbruises]

closed starter for dylan (@dylanohara) located at the cardinal carnival

She’d been drowning her memories in a flask. The lights of the Ferris wheel were stars by this point and she watched them methodically rotate through the dark sky. Harper came alone, not wanting anyone to see her ripping apart at the seams. She was trapped in her head, and whatever happened that day at the diner. What started as another normal day quickly became another haunting of her past. The reason everything fell apart, the thing that twisted her inside out, it all came rushing back. Haunted by her father and the life that had been stolen in the blink of an eye. That was the funny thing about death: you never see it coming.

Harper planned to enjoy the night alone. In fact, she didn’t want it any other way until she caught the gaze of the person who made work a little extra miserable. “Dylhole,” the raven-haired girl grinned, eyes splitting through and somehow past him. The liquor had been doing its job. “Who the fuck let you out without supervision?”

[skyskypage]

"I'm not a hazard," Sky protested feebly, although he couldn't exactly argue the point much. He was fairly certain he'd never met another driver as prone to the kind of accidents he tended to get into, and whilst he certainly didn't pose - or tried not to pose - any dangers to other drivers on the road, he probably did fit the definition of being a hazard if only to himself.

"I brought pretzels," he pulled the packets from his bag as he listed the snacks, dumping them on the table, "rice krispie treats, Reece's pieces, cheez balls.... Oreos.... Oh, and this." The final item he pulled wasn't a snack at all, a record he held out for her to inspect, head tilted to one side as if he was waiting for her to form an opinion on it. "Gish. It's by this new band, the Smashing Pumpkins? Only came out like, a month ago. But I think it's pretty cool."

[batteredbruises]

༝༝ 🖤 ༝༝

Harper wasn't convinced, and it read on her face. She didn't hide how she felt, whether she wanted to or not, emotion naturally finding her features. Besides, when Sky made claims like that, after proving the very opposite time and time again. She'd let him live in ignorant bliss for now. There would be time to harp on him later as she fixed the blemish he'd caused in record time from his last. "Sky, I wouldn't be surprised if you hit something leaving the parking lot after I just fixed it." Harper didn't think there was any use in pretending when they both knew the truth. He couldn't deny fact as it sat in her garage waiting for a fender bender band-aid. "No curb is safe from you." And that was only the first of many objects she'd suggest stay away when he was on the road.

A treat piqued her interest, watching as each item was presented, and with each her tight-lipped smile grew. "Alright, you got me." As if she hadn't already clocked in for the night to work on his car, the surprise affirmed her evening plans. Before getting to work, she treated herself to a snack after not having eaten anything since her peanut butter and jelly at lunch. Two Oreos were pulled apart so she could eat the raw cookie first and combine the rest to create a double-decker cookie. "I'm a double-stuff girl," she explained, seeing him watch her process, as if it needed any clarification. "And put that shit on and crank it." One thing about working after hours was that she got control of the music, which meant the louder, the better. Harper believed her best work came when she was a few beers in, blowing out her eardrums.

[innocentcurse]

Lucien had always been a big fan of competition, mostly the friendly sort of it, but he'd also been known to dabble in the not so friendly type of competition, too. Ever since his accident, however, he'd not felt adequate compared to a lot of people; he couldn't do the things that he used to, couldn't win the fights that he used to pick, couldn't participate in the competition that he once kept going at all costs. It made him feel less than in so many different ways, and so to have people in his life that helped him to not only avoid those feelings, but to also prove them wrong? Well, it meant just about everything to Lucien. That was how he felt there with Harper, like there was a high chance that she'd win, but that he wasn't completely counted out.

"Oh you can feel it, can you?" He teased, initially making fun of the way that she was manifesting her own success - only to be proven so sorely wrong as she sunk ball after ball. "Alright..." he shook his head, amused, not disheartened, though. "You got lucky this time, but I will show you how it's done with my professional technique," he couldn't not laugh at himself as he said those words. Lining his cue up for his next shot, Lucien made easy work of sinking the ball he aimed for. "Told you, I-" his bragging was cut short as while he was standing up from his bent over position, his leg kicked the bottom of the cue, which in turn sent it straight into his face. A line of blue chalk now ran across his eyebrow. "Ah!" Humbled quickly, Lucien's cheeks burned hot. "God, you're not gonna let that one just slide, are you?"

[batteredbruises]

༝༝ 🖤 ༝༝

When arriving in Cardinal Hill, she wasn’t sure if her fresh start would find her or if it’d end up as stained as her past. She didn’t pretend to not have come from darkness but found those familiar with it as well. Harper had her secrets, even from the guys, but their band felt like some sort of dysfunctional family. When they were together, life felt normal again, and music gave her a better release compared to those that Harper turned to before. It hadn’t been the same playing on her own; Wrathchild was different. They were an isle of misfit toys that sometimes felt like the world threw out, and that made for some great music. Lucien was her favorite, not that Harper told them she had favorites, loving them all in their own unique way. They were her boys, even if most of her life had been kept close to her chest. The girl's bandmates knew Harper now, and that's who mattered. Billy would've had something to say about it anyway; he usually did, regardless.

The girl nodded her head confidently, arms folded across her chest, while the pool stick lay against the table in wait. A hand untangled from its pretzel to present the green velvet like a red carpet for Lucien to show the technique he boasted about. "Oh, please, be my guest." There was a smile at the edge of her lips that she pushed down to keep her facade a little longer. When it actually turned out to be a success, Harper nearly released the air that puffed her chest when it pressed out as a laugh instead. "No chance," she confirmed, her hidden smile finally taking center stage. Before taking her next turn, Harper stepped toward him and used her thumb to wipe off the chalk mark. "And you're so going to pay for that." The grin turned into a furrow of focus, turning her attention back to the game at hand, and finding a way back on top. Harper took the pool stick back, rubbing it between her palm with her fingers while deciphering her next move. While her opponent set himself up perfectly, it put the girl in a less-than-ideal situation, one she'd need to pull out moves above her pay grade to complete. "Why don't we make the game a little more... interesting?" An eyebrow arched in challenge with a fair dose of curiosity to boot.

[dylanohara]

"You think I'm funny and you think I'm delicious looking enough to eat? Oh, Harper," Dylan cooed, batting his eyelashes obnoxiously just to drive the point home. "Don't make me swoon now." The comment was accompanied by a snort, as if he found his own joke funny enough to react to it, but he leaned back to let her look, moving over to give her a better view. "Please, take a front row seat. Watch a true artist at work. I've been told the way I handle a simple oil change is sexy enough to start the Trojan War all over again."

[batteredbruises]

༝༝ 🖤 ༝༝

Her face stayed unamused in its straight, serious nature at his cooing. The last thing she was going to do was entertain the narrative he chose to make up. Dylan had his own way of getting under her skin, and she was just lucky enough to work with him every day. "Do you talk to hear your own voice or because you actually have something useful to say?" The girl looked at his work, arched her brow, and turned back to the mechanic himself. For how cocky he was she didn't think his work owned up to it. Harper clocked him for the type who didn't bother to double-check anything or believe he did something incorrectly. He had yet to prove her right, but he also had yet to prove her wrong. "Yeah, you keep telling yourself that. Whatever helps you sleep at night." The girl glanced at him through furrowed brows before exhaling into her usual monotone expression. "If you think you look sexy doing it, you're probably doing it wrong."

[innocentcurse]

"This town is full of dudes who love their cars," he began, "so really, I'm the only one left keeping you afloat. I can't say it'd be a crime for me to learn the big stuff, but it'd feel like that to me. Call me too kind for my own good if you'd like," he almost broke out into laughter at his own stupid bit. "But for you, I'm totally cool keeping your lessons to the little stuff." A playful wink followed his playful words. He was glad that Harper was so far receptive to the way he was speaking - along with the fact that he was talking at all, considering they were meant to be doing a business transaction.

"Ah, you're a woman after my own heart then, it seems," he complimented her, having the exact same taste in beers - like the cold ones. There definitely wasn't anyone else in the picture that would be a problem in any way at all; right now, all Lucky was focused on was Harper. "I definitely have some tools," he admitted, feeling a little embarrassed at his confession; he knew enough to be a handyman around houses, but that was about it. "How transferable are tools from the house to the car? I have what I need around the house, but that's it. I'll have some extra beer on hand just in case," he laughed. "Don't worry, I'm not afraid to get dirty - much to my own dad's chagrin."

[batteredbruises]

༝༝ 🖤 ༝༝

"You got that right," the girl agreed with a shake of her head in exasperation. More men came back with their own slew of ideas as to what the problem actually was or how she could do her job better, as if they knew half the things about cars that Harper did. It made her happy that guys like Lucky still existed; something about his genuine nature and openness about his lack of knowledge on the subject made her all the more attracted to him. He didn't seem threatened by a girl who could fix his car, which had been a problem with men in her past. Still, she was at work, and for the moment, he was still technically a customer. "Ah, what a saint you are, keeping a girl like me employed. I can't lose my favorite customer, can I?" A smile seemed to sit naturally in his presence, where she typically wore a scowl. Her fellow mechanics liked to remind her of her resting bitch face that his sun seemed to light up.

When it came to a drink, she wasn't picky but would pick a beer over a cocktail any day. Her father let her take a sip when she was a tween, and even then, Harper knew she would like them when she could buy them herself. The preference hadn't changed, and she'd happily drink whatever brewski he provided. "I knew you had good taste." His question was brushed off with her hand. Harper kept a toolbox in her car at all times and would grab a jack before leaving work whenever she came by. "I'll make sure we've got what we need." That would be her half of the bargain, a job that she'd easily be able to complete. "You're kidding," Harper replied with a layer of surprise in her tone. "He's missing out. We'll have to get like extra dirty now." The girl bit the inside of her lip, knowing their conversation would have to come to a close once she got him closed out. In a way, Harper wasn't ready for the best company she'd had all day to leave. "This weekend work for you?"

[lovesspell]

"Oh I'm very serious. It's only right for me to make sure I honor my star pupil," they teased with a wink. But there was a lot of truth to it. Just as Gisela had once taken Eve under her wing, Eve had done the same with many others and Harper just happened to be one of their favorites if not their most favorite. Eve nodded in understanding, knowing just fickle fire could be. Just like water. So simple and yet so powerful that it could be one of the most complicated things there were. "Fire can be temperamental, almost like, it's testing you at every turn to see if you're worthy. Which makes sense, in the wrong hands it could be destructive. But it has to do with focus and connection. Intention behind the use of the fire. Like this," Eve reached into one of the pockets of their coat and pulled out their lighter, flipping open the top. The flicked the flame to life and set their eyes, slowly moving their fingers in a pattern as they whispered and the fire started to grow in one thin stream above them. Intense but tamed in a way they couldn't even feel the heat. After a moment they slowly shrunk the fire until it was back to it's original size and flipped the lighter shut.

"I practice a lot, also burned one side of my bedroom once when I was practicing," they admitted it with a shrug. "If you want to use it more casually, you have to get to know it for it's intensity, does that make sense?" They held out the lighter to Harper. "Your turn. Don't worry, I'll contain it if it gets too crazy."

[batteredbruises]

༝༝ 🖤 ༝༝

"That's like the coolest thing anyone's ever done for me. What an honor to be a sandwhich, fuck a cereal box," she replied through a smile. Harper's heart swelled at the thoughtfulness of her teacher and friend. They weren't like anyone else she'd ever met. Not only did their handle on magic leave her in awe, but the way they treated others had an affected even on a girl like her. Harper was rough around the edges, raised by her father with a temper, and a garage full of men, the very same. They cursed over their work and kicked the tire when the vehicle didn't cooperate. For a time, that's the only way they knew to handle things, including their powers, but it was Eve who had a hand in taming her fire. "Well it's a bitch for that," the raven-haired girl muttered before focusing in on what their teacher did to control the fire instead of letting it control her. Harper didn't know where she'd gone wrong, but understood the feeling that came along with it needed to be rearranged.

"Fuck, alright," she exhaled, taking the lighter in her hand for her first attempt. The flame rose, and her hand along with it. There was a moment where it followed her finger, a smile forming with her heart that started to tap rapidly. Once she started to whisper, the flame grew swifter than before, almost as if getting lost in the words, Harper drew them back. Her hand shoved back down towards the base of the lights and quickly flicked it shut. "That wasn't the worst."

[dylanohara]

closed for @batteredbruises

“Hath the harpy returned?” Dylan widened his eyes in an expression of faux terror as his coworker - the so called harpy he had so rudely referred to - entered the garage, before pretending to duck behind the open hood of the Honda Civic he was currently working on. “I thought we had vanquished the terrifying beast already. Please, spare me. I am but a young man, with so much life left to live……..”

[batteredbruises]

༝༝ 🖤 ༝༝

The second she returned from lunch Harper was greeted with the snarky comments of co-worker, Dylan. He seemed to find amusement in his antics, but her simple pleasure of a turkey sub was wiped clean by his teasing. Not that Harper took offense to the nickname, but more so annoyed that he always had to add the theatrics. Dylan seemed to thrive on over the top, and she was quite the opposite. “Oh you’re soo funny,” the raven-haired girl remarked as she pulled her locks back into a low ponytail. “If I really were a monster, I’d eat you first.” A snap of her jaw gave retaliation to his jokes. She came around the hood, giving the top a smack as she did to rattle her co-worker. In some ways, Harper could very well be a beast of sorts, her magic being misunderstood by the witch herself. After so many years of being confused by who she was, she felt like she was finding some clarity in a small town with an unfamiliar name. "What're you workin' on, Dylhole?"

[skyskypage]

“Well it’s mostly just aesthetic,” Sky protested feebly, as he eyed the crumpled back of the Honda, license plate barely hanging on by what seemed to be sheer willpower at this point. “I backed into a wall,” he added, the shrug that illustrated the admission making it clear that he seemed to think this to be a common mistake made by many drivers on the road, and not a glaringly silly thing to have happened.

Her next statement though, as derogatory as it might have sounded, came across as maybe even a joke, something that could almost have come out between friends, and at that Sky seemed to relax, a slight amount of tension leaving his shoulders as if his body had finally realised the anxiety it had carried when he arrived was unnecessary. “Technically it took me five tries to pass,” he said truthfully, the slight upward curve of the corner of his lips showing he was less ashamed of this fact and more simply accepting of it. “My sister said they probably just took pity on me. Or, they never wanted to have to get in a car with me again, and that was the easiest way out. But unless you need a lift anywhere all you need to worry about is getting the license plate reattached, so….. And, I brought snacks and a present.”

[batteredbruises]

༝༝ 🖤 ༝༝

Harper made her way around the vehicle to assess the damage, and the scrunched Honda looked back sadly as if begging for help. The mechanic's eyes shift between the license plate hanging by a thread and the one to blame for its ill state. "Oh yeah, just casually backed into a wall, sounds about right," she said with her arms folded in thought. This was when there had to be some problem-solving, so he wasn't out an arm and a leg due to the damage. Sky was far too good at doing this to have a budget that could maintain the habit. At least they didn't need to replace any parts; it was easier to save on body damage when the highest cost was Harper's time.

The truth had her jaw hanging loose. Maybe that didn't mean he didn't deserve a license, but nothing proved to her that he did. Sky was a problem to himself, sure, as long as no other vehicles were involved. "You're a hazard," Harper laughed with a shake of her head.

"Yeah, yeah, of course I can fix it." She waved off his comment, having already started her plan of attack. It was the offering that sprang her curiosity. "But I definitely take bribes. What've you got?" Her eyes looked for clues as she waited for his response. A snack might've been exactly what Harper needed before getting invested in another one of Sky's projects.

[batteredbruises]

closed starter for billy (@billy-hutch) located at the wrathchild storage unit

Tonight, the rest of the band cleared out fast, and they were the two leftovers. She actually had ulterior motives, hoping to stick around for a bit to work on her own music. The lyrics wouldn't leave the page, but the notes played in her head, something soft, something methodical, something aching. A weight was on her shoulders recently, and the only way it would really go away was by playing whatever came out. The feeling connected to the strings as she'd thumb away life's pains. That was once her bandmate left for the night, but he certainly took his sweet time. "You hanging around for a bit? I was kind of gonna work on something." If he pried, she didn't exactly know how she'd answer but hoped he didn't care enough to ask. The last thing Harper needed was him taking notice of her music, especially if it didn't match that of the band's usual sound. "And I don't need your bad vibes stinkin' up the place," the girl joked to keep the air between them light.

[skyskypage]

closed for @batteredbruises

If the look on his face was more than a little sheepish, then even then, he would be playing it far cooler than he felt. Truth be told, Sky did not want to be dealing with a mechanic right now.

Not because she was in any way incompetent, nor mean. Nothing like that at all, actually. The simple truth was that Sky was fairly easily intimidated by just about anyone, and when just about anyone happened to be a heavily tattooed, pierced woman wielding a wrench - well, it didn't exactly dissuade his feelings of nervousness, to say the least. He'd met Harper a few times now, a side effect of his inability to drive from point A to B without incident, and yet his anxiety remained - maybe partially due to a sense that he was about to be ridiculed justifiably for the reasoning behind his third trip to Romano's this month alone. "Hey, uh, I might have fucked up a bit this time...."

[batteredbruises]

༝༝ 🖤 ༝༝

Harper was easy to spot at work, being the only female mechanic kind of had that effect, but it was a title she wore with pride. The same couldn’t be said for every customer. She did her best to remember someone, but that usually only went as far as the car they drove. That couldn’t be said about Sky and the car that couldn’t catch a break. If it were visiting her, it wouldn’t have been a good day for the vehicle. Most of the staff had gone home for the day, but Harper would rather be anywhere than her trailer, which benefited her late work hours. She was up front, looking through a parts catalogue when he came in, and a knowing expression already sloughed into her face. “What did you do this time?” Harper had swung around on her stool to hop off and go around the counter to assess the damage. “Pull her into the garage and I’ll take a look,” she instructed, giving him the signal to go ahead and bring the car in. Her hands shoved into her coveralls, squinting out at the damage at hand before turning her curiosity back to the driver. “How did you ever get a license?” The comment was not meant in offense but more as amusement. Technically, she benefited from his faults in driving, still cutting him a deal because she got a kick out of it now.