Aqui Vamos Nós

Tudo que você pode fazer é ser você.

[note-a-bear]

My mom sent this to me and i’m howling

[landunderthewave]

White woman: Hi fellow white people. Are you having a sad because that family is enjoying a picnic in the park while being black? Did that customer in front of you just speak a language that makes you irrationally angry? Well this is a great time to try *holds up bottle* Mind Your Own Fucking Business. With Mind Your Own Fucking Business you’ll be able to grow the fuck up and act like a decent fucking human being. Our patented technology allows you to pull your head out of your ass and see the world beyond the brim of your MAGA hat.

White man: Hi honey, I saw some black people at the Starbucks today.

Woman: Did you mind your own fucking business?

Man: I sure fucking did.

*both laughing*

Woman: Stop bothering those nice people today with Mind Your Own Fucking Business.

Man: Side effects may include not harassing people, no one getting arrested or murdered by police, a general sense of well-being for people of color, a lack of Internet fame and or trolling, and coexistence. Please consult a doctor if you are still a piece of shit after Minding Your Own Fucking Business as the symptoms may be result of a deeper problem and require further treatment.

Woman: Now available at Anthropology in Whole Foods.

[Censoring beeps removed for better readability.]

[weloveshortvideos]

Kmart deserves commercial of the year

[breadwolf]

OH THEY’RE SAYING GAS

[mis3rybiscuits]

Saw the opportunity and didn’t let it pass them

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Isn’t this the company that did ‘Ship your pants’?

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

It's midmorning on a miserably rainy sort of Tuesday, the day when Kat comes in a little later now. So Jair's all alone when a red van comes trundling into the front parking area. It's seen better days, there's rust spots near the bottom and around the door handles, and has its share of dents and scratches. A youngish guy steps out, his skin a warmish sort of gold and his nose large and almost beak-like. He looks around, nervous, before making his way toward the office.

Jair takes his feet off of the cooler, but leaves his book in hand, thumb holding the place even if he sets it down on the desk by the time the customer comes in. It’s a small field guide about ???Hornets, ants, and wasps??? There’s even an index halfway through full of colour photos. As the door opens and the bell in the car bay chimes, he’s pulling his hand out from under it and standing up, wearing a grungy, green-drab jumpsuit, though his hands are lava-soap clean, even under the nails. “Welcome, welcome,” He greets, in thickly accented english, “How can we help you today?” He doesn’t smile, not with his mouth, but there’s no tensity in his face either. He’s just not the grinning sort. Hell, some of the non-community members who come here are glad for the fact, he’s creepy enough without giving a toothy grimace of a face.

[red-feathers-and-bone]

Dorian scuffs his boot on the ground, and tugs at his hair.

“…Most people think we’re fairy tales. That kind of eh…that kind of Community. Where I’m from it was-was divided. All the different…factions, I guess? Were separate, kept to themselves. Or-or fought with each other. Not like here, at all.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jairs brow knots and his grease-blacked thumb runs against the equally dingy nail of his first finger in a small but repetitive motion. “Were you ever in Maine?” He asks. His posture seems relaxed enough, but his eyes are squinted from a cautious, thoughtful frown as he does the equations on Dorian’s response. “That sounds a lot like the Community I left before I ended up here.”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

He shakes his head with a small exhale, and rocks on his toes. “Ohio. There was eh…there was some fucked up shit there. So we left.” He shrugs. “What’s in Maine?”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jair glances over his shoulder, checking his surroundings an extra second even if it would’ve otherwise been unnoticed. Then he speaks.. “Will workers against shifters.  I ended up there a …” He looks at his hand and seems to mentally count years.  “Almost five years ago. Trying to get into Canada. I didn’t end up in Canada.”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

There’s a visible shift on Dorian’s face as he processes this new information. “…It rude to ask which of ‘em eh…which of ‘em you are? Sounds like-like bad news there.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jair takes an opportunity to not just show off, but practice. His eyes shift a deep, gold-bright, teak-wood brown, and at the same time he holds up a hand that- with obvious effort on his part- becomes a bears paw.   “I got no hurt towards mages. Er, Ones I ain’t met. Maybe not even ones I have. It was a bad place, and it didn’t have room for not-bad people. 

[red-feathers-and-bone]

Dorian’s eyes go wide, but he holds his ground, and nods after a second.

“My-my old Freehold was all about safety, made people mean. Paranoid. Agree to do all kinds of eh…of awful shit, just to stay safe.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

The lads hand returns to skin and sinew, flat fingernails and a narrow palm as the black fur recedes and his eyes regain that deep, human brown they were before.  “I … Get that. My boss.. He didn’t focus on safety so much, mostly cause it was my job to sniff out anything dangerous before it got to him.  Paranoia was my life. Old habits die hard, too.”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

“They-they really fucking do. ‘S funny though. Dunno if I eh…if I ever felt safe, there.” He scratches his head, ruffling his hair. “Kinda used to not-to not feeling safe anywhere, now.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jair pulls his hand back under the machine, though he tosses a look towards Dorian as he does so. “Different place each night?” He asks with the dry tone of someone who knows -exactly- what that feels like.

[red-feathers-and-bone]

“Since-since we left, yeah. Not really eh…not really used to it though. Had a house, me’n my eh…me’n my motley. Thought safety in numbers would help. Didn’t.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jair ducks back under the van to get back to work, but just from the stiffness, the quiet that comes in lieu of previous conversations, Dorian can definitely tell that Jair is disturbed by what he said. “Numbers don’t mean shit sometimes.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

It's midmorning on a miserably rainy sort of Tuesday, the day when Kat comes in a little later now. So Jair's all alone when a red van comes trundling into the front parking area. It's seen better days, there's rust spots near the bottom and around the door handles, and has its share of dents and scratches. A youngish guy steps out, his skin a warmish sort of gold and his nose large and almost beak-like. He looks around, nervous, before making his way toward the office.

Jair takes his feet off of the cooler, but leaves his book in hand, thumb holding the place even if he sets it down on the desk by the time the customer comes in. It’s a small field guide about ???Hornets, ants, and wasps??? There’s even an index halfway through full of colour photos. As the door opens and the bell in the car bay chimes, he’s pulling his hand out from under it and standing up, wearing a grungy, green-drab jumpsuit, though his hands are lava-soap clean, even under the nails. “Welcome, welcome,” He greets, in thickly accented english, “How can we help you today?” He doesn’t smile, not with his mouth, but there’s no tensity in his face either. He’s just not the grinning sort. Hell, some of the non-community members who come here are glad for the fact, he’s creepy enough without giving a toothy grimace of a face.

[red-feathers-and-bone]

Dorian scuffs his boot on the ground, and tugs at his hair.

“…Most people think we’re fairy tales. That kind of eh…that kind of Community. Where I’m from it was-was divided. All the different…factions, I guess? Were separate, kept to themselves. Or-or fought with each other. Not like here, at all.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jairs brow knots and his grease-blacked thumb runs against the equally dingy nail of his first finger in a small but repetitive motion. “Were you ever in Maine?” He asks. His posture seems relaxed enough, but his eyes are squinted from a cautious, thoughtful frown as he does the equations on Dorian’s response. “That sounds a lot like the Community I left before I ended up here.”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

He shakes his head with a small exhale, and rocks on his toes. “Ohio. There was eh…there was some fucked up shit there. So we left.” He shrugs. “What’s in Maine?”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jair glances over his shoulder, checking his surroundings an extra second even if it would’ve otherwise been unnoticed. Then he speaks.. “Will workers against shifters.  I ended up there a …” He looks at his hand and seems to mentally count years.  “Almost five years ago. Trying to get into Canada. I didn’t end up in Canada.”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

There’s a visible shift on Dorian’s face as he processes this new information. “…It rude to ask which of ‘em eh…which of ‘em you are? Sounds like-like bad news there.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jair takes an opportunity to not just show off, but practice. His eyes shift a deep, gold-bright, teak-wood brown, and at the same time he holds up a hand that- with obvious effort on his part- becomes a bears paw.   “I got no hurt towards mages. Er, Ones I ain’t met. Maybe not even ones I have. It was a bad place, and it didn’t have room for not-bad people. 

[red-feathers-and-bone]

Dorian’s eyes go wide, but he holds his ground, and nods after a second.

“My-my old Freehold was all about safety, made people mean. Paranoid. Agree to do all kinds of eh…of awful shit, just to stay safe.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

The lads hand returns to skin and sinew, flat fingernails and a narrow palm as the black fur recedes and his eyes regain that deep, human brown they were before.  “I … Get that. My boss.. He didn’t focus on safety so much, mostly cause it was my job to sniff out anything dangerous before it got to him.  Paranoia was my life. Old habits die hard, too.”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

“They-they really fucking do. ‘S funny though. Dunno if I eh…if I ever felt safe, there.” He scratches his head, ruffling his hair. “Kinda used to not-to not feeling safe anywhere, now.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jair pulls his hand back under the machine, though he tosses a look towards Dorian as he does so. “Different place each night?” He asks with the dry tone of someone who knows -exactly- what that feels like.

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

It's midmorning on a miserably rainy sort of Tuesday, the day when Kat comes in a little later now. So Jair's all alone when a red van comes trundling into the front parking area. It's seen better days, there's rust spots near the bottom and around the door handles, and has its share of dents and scratches. A youngish guy steps out, his skin a warmish sort of gold and his nose large and almost beak-like. He looks around, nervous, before making his way toward the office.

Jair takes his feet off of the cooler, but leaves his book in hand, thumb holding the place even if he sets it down on the desk by the time the customer comes in. It’s a small field guide about ???Hornets, ants, and wasps??? There’s even an index halfway through full of colour photos. As the door opens and the bell in the car bay chimes, he’s pulling his hand out from under it and standing up, wearing a grungy, green-drab jumpsuit, though his hands are lava-soap clean, even under the nails. “Welcome, welcome,” He greets, in thickly accented english, “How can we help you today?” He doesn’t smile, not with his mouth, but there’s no tensity in his face either. He’s just not the grinning sort. Hell, some of the non-community members who come here are glad for the fact, he’s creepy enough without giving a toothy grimace of a face.

[red-feathers-and-bone]

Dorian scuffs his boot on the ground, and tugs at his hair.

“…Most people think we’re fairy tales. That kind of eh…that kind of Community. Where I’m from it was-was divided. All the different…factions, I guess? Were separate, kept to themselves. Or-or fought with each other. Not like here, at all.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jairs brow knots and his grease-blacked thumb runs against the equally dingy nail of his first finger in a small but repetitive motion. “Were you ever in Maine?” He asks. His posture seems relaxed enough, but his eyes are squinted from a cautious, thoughtful frown as he does the equations on Dorian’s response. “That sounds a lot like the Community I left before I ended up here.”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

He shakes his head with a small exhale, and rocks on his toes. “Ohio. There was eh…there was some fucked up shit there. So we left.” He shrugs. “What’s in Maine?”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jair glances over his shoulder, checking his surroundings an extra second even if it would’ve otherwise been unnoticed. Then he speaks.. “Will workers against shifters.  I ended up there a …” He looks at his hand and seems to mentally count years.  “Almost five years ago. Trying to get into Canada. I didn’t end up in Canada.”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

There’s a visible shift on Dorian’s face as he processes this new information. “…It rude to ask which of ‘em eh…which of ‘em you are? Sounds like-like bad news there.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jair takes an opportunity to not just show off, but practice. His eyes shift a deep, gold-bright, teak-wood brown, and at the same time he holds up a hand that- with obvious effort on his part- becomes a bears paw.   “I got no hurt towards mages. Er, Ones I ain’t met. Maybe not even ones I have. It was a bad place, and it didn’t have room for not-bad people. 

[red-feathers-and-bone]

Dorian’s eyes go wide, but he holds his ground, and nods after a second.

“My-my old Freehold was all about safety, made people mean. Paranoid. Agree to do all kinds of eh…of awful shit, just to stay safe.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

The lads hand returns to skin and sinew, flat fingernails and a narrow palm as the black fur recedes and his eyes regain that deep, human brown they were before.  “I ... Get that. My boss.. He didn’t focus on safety so much, mostly cause it was my job to sniff out anything dangerous before it got to him.  Paranoia was my life. Old habits die hard, too.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

It's midmorning on a miserably rainy sort of Tuesday, the day when Kat comes in a little later now. So Jair's all alone when a red van comes trundling into the front parking area. It's seen better days, there's rust spots near the bottom and around the door handles, and has its share of dents and scratches. A youngish guy steps out, his skin a warmish sort of gold and his nose large and almost beak-like. He looks around, nervous, before making his way toward the office.

Jair takes his feet off of the cooler, but leaves his book in hand, thumb holding the place even if he sets it down on the desk by the time the customer comes in. It’s a small field guide about ???Hornets, ants, and wasps??? There’s even an index halfway through full of colour photos. As the door opens and the bell in the car bay chimes, he’s pulling his hand out from under it and standing up, wearing a grungy, green-drab jumpsuit, though his hands are lava-soap clean, even under the nails. “Welcome, welcome,” He greets, in thickly accented english, “How can we help you today?” He doesn’t smile, not with his mouth, but there’s no tensity in his face either. He’s just not the grinning sort. Hell, some of the non-community members who come here are glad for the fact, he’s creepy enough without giving a toothy grimace of a face.

[red-feathers-and-bone]

Dorian scuffs his boot on the ground, and tugs at his hair.

“…Most people think we’re fairy tales. That kind of eh…that kind of Community. Where I’m from it was-was divided. All the different…factions, I guess? Were separate, kept to themselves. Or-or fought with each other. Not like here, at all.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jairs brow knots and his grease-blacked thumb runs against the equally dingy nail of his first finger in a small but repetitive motion. “Were you ever in Maine?” He asks. His posture seems relaxed enough, but his eyes are squinted from a cautious, thoughtful frown as he does the equations on Dorian’s response. “That sounds a lot like the Community I left before I ended up here.”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

He shakes his head with a small exhale, and rocks on his toes. “Ohio. There was eh…there was some fucked up shit there. So we left.” He shrugs. “What’s in Maine?”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jair glances over his shoulder, checking his surroundings an extra second even if it would’ve otherwise been unnoticed. Then he speaks.. “Will workers against shifters.  I ended up there a …” He looks at his hand and seems to mentally count years.  “Almost five years ago. Trying to get into Canada. I didn’t end up in Canada.”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

There’s a visible shift on Dorian’s face as he processes this new information. “…It rude to ask which of ‘em eh…which of ‘em you are? Sounds like-like bad news there.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jair takes an opportunity to not just show off, but practice. His eyes shift a deep, gold-bright, teak-wood brown, and at the same time he holds up a hand that- with obvious effort on his part- becomes a bears paw.   “I got no hurt towards mages. Er, Ones I ain’t met. Maybe not even ones I have. It was a bad place, and it didn’t have room for not-bad people. 

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

It's midmorning on a miserably rainy sort of Tuesday, the day when Kat comes in a little later now. So Jair's all alone when a red van comes trundling into the front parking area. It's seen better days, there's rust spots near the bottom and around the door handles, and has its share of dents and scratches. A youngish guy steps out, his skin a warmish sort of gold and his nose large and almost beak-like. He looks around, nervous, before making his way toward the office.

Jair takes his feet off of the cooler, but leaves his book in hand, thumb holding the place even if he sets it down on the desk by the time the customer comes in. It’s a small field guide about ???Hornets, ants, and wasps??? There’s even an index halfway through full of colour photos. As the door opens and the bell in the car bay chimes, he’s pulling his hand out from under it and standing up, wearing a grungy, green-drab jumpsuit, though his hands are lava-soap clean, even under the nails. “Welcome, welcome,” He greets, in thickly accented english, “How can we help you today?” He doesn’t smile, not with his mouth, but there’s no tensity in his face either. He’s just not the grinning sort. Hell, some of the non-community members who come here are glad for the fact, he’s creepy enough without giving a toothy grimace of a face.

[red-feathers-and-bone]

Dorian scuffs his boot on the ground, and tugs at his hair.

“…Most people think we’re fairy tales. That kind of eh…that kind of Community. Where I’m from it was-was divided. All the different…factions, I guess? Were separate, kept to themselves. Or-or fought with each other. Not like here, at all.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jairs brow knots and his grease-blacked thumb runs against the equally dingy nail of his first finger in a small but repetitive motion. “Were you ever in Maine?” He asks. His posture seems relaxed enough, but his eyes are squinted from a cautious, thoughtful frown as he does the equations on Dorian’s response. “That sounds a lot like the Community I left before I ended up here.”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

He shakes his head with a small exhale, and rocks on his toes. “Ohio. There was eh…there was some fucked up shit there. So we left.” He shrugs. “What’s in Maine?”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jair glances over his shoulder, checking his surroundings an extra second even if it would’ve otherwise been unnoticed. Then he speaks.. “Will workers against shifters.  I ended up there a ...” He looks at his hand and seems to mentally count years.  “Almost five years ago. Trying to get into Canada. I didn’t end up in Canada.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

It's midmorning on a miserably rainy sort of Tuesday, the day when Kat comes in a little later now. So Jair's all alone when a red van comes trundling into the front parking area. It's seen better days, there's rust spots near the bottom and around the door handles, and has its share of dents and scratches. A youngish guy steps out, his skin a warmish sort of gold and his nose large and almost beak-like. He looks around, nervous, before making his way toward the office.

Jair takes his feet off of the cooler, but leaves his book in hand, thumb holding the place even if he sets it down on the desk by the time the customer comes in. It’s a small field guide about ???Hornets, ants, and wasps??? There’s even an index halfway through full of colour photos. As the door opens and the bell in the car bay chimes, he’s pulling his hand out from under it and standing up, wearing a grungy, green-drab jumpsuit, though his hands are lava-soap clean, even under the nails. “Welcome, welcome,” He greets, in thickly accented english, “How can we help you today?” He doesn’t smile, not with his mouth, but there’s no tensity in his face either. He’s just not the grinning sort. Hell, some of the non-community members who come here are glad for the fact, he’s creepy enough without giving a toothy grimace of a face.

[red-feathers-and-bone]

Dorian scuffs his boot on the ground, and tugs at his hair.

“…Most people think we’re fairy tales. That kind of eh…that kind of Community. Where I’m from it was-was divided. All the different…factions, I guess? Were separate, kept to themselves. Or-or fought with each other. Not like here, at all.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jairs brow knots and his grease-blacked thumb runs against the equally dingy nail of his first finger in a small but repetitive motion. “Were you ever in Maine?” He asks. His posture seems relaxed enough, but his eyes are squinted from a cautious, thoughtful frown as he does the equations on Dorian’s response. “That sounds a lot like the Community I left before I ended up here.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

It's midmorning on a miserably rainy sort of Tuesday, the day when Kat comes in a little later now. So Jair's all alone when a red van comes trundling into the front parking area. It's seen better days, there's rust spots near the bottom and around the door handles, and has its share of dents and scratches. A youngish guy steps out, his skin a warmish sort of gold and his nose large and almost beak-like. He looks around, nervous, before making his way toward the office.

Jair takes his feet off of the cooler, but leaves his book in hand, thumb holding the place even if he sets it down on the desk by the time the customer comes in. It’s a small field guide about ???Hornets, ants, and wasps??? There’s even an index halfway through full of colour photos. As the door opens and the bell in the car bay chimes, he’s pulling his hand out from under it and standing up, wearing a grungy, green-drab jumpsuit, though his hands are lava-soap clean, even under the nails. “Welcome, welcome,” He greets, in thickly accented english, “How can we help you today?” He doesn’t smile, not with his mouth, but there’s no tensity in his face either. He’s just not the grinning sort. Hell, some of the non-community members who come here are glad for the fact, he’s creepy enough without giving a toothy grimace of a face.

[red-feathers-and-bone]

Dorian crouches with him, watching him work. He nods at the dial, understanding that part, at least.

“How…how d'you fix it?”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jair spends most of his time looking up into the undercarriage of the vehicle, but occasionally spares a glance towards Dorian. “So what we want to do here is flush out your brake lines. Make sure there aren’t any leaks. Kind of like filling up your tire to see if there’s a hole in it we aren’t seeing. That’s no big deal. Twenty bucks maybe. We also want to top off your brake fluid, because the lack of it is causing your problem, but if we just fill it up and it’s leaking out somewhere… You’ll have to come back to somebody, and if you heard about us from Koschei, then we’re the best deal in town.. I’m hoping you’re just low and it’s not a big deal, but I can get you sorted in probably an hour if it’s you’re lines somewhere.”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

More nodding.

“Twenty bucks I can do now, no…no problem. Hope there’s no leaks, eh?” He smiles.

“Can I-I watch you do all that, too?”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“You gotta put on eye protection, just in case, and stay outside the yellow line…” Jair points on the floor where, around both car jack sites is a thick block painted yellow rectangle that gives the car about a meter of room in any direction, “But if you promise not to sue me if you get hurt, I don’t really have an issue with it…” He pulls out his phone and offers to take a recording. Because hell no he’s not opening Kat to that kind of liability without backup. Jair lives his entire life in CYA mode when he’s not being a complete nut job.

[red-feathers-and-bone]

“Sure - I-I got safety glasses in there…?” He gestures to his van, and takes a few more steps back from the yellow line.

“I eh…I promise not to sue this auto shop due to-due to injuries i might get because I elected to stay and watch you work. That-that work?”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“I’m.. Not a law person, but it should be good enough to say I warned you and you … say its okay..” He ends the recording and repockets the phone, adjusting the front of his jumpsuit and checking the zipper. “But.. uh. Yeah. Imma take a look, an’ we’ll flush the brake line and see if there’s any leaks, after checking to see if you’re just low on fluid, e? Then I can say better if… There’s big repairs to do, and you decide how to do it.” For the first step, all Jair has to do is pop the trunk. He hovers his hand over the engine block for a moment, checking the temperature after lifting the bonnet. As he does this, he looks over- “If the engine is hot, some of the liquids might steam or splash when I open seals. So I have to make sure everything is … chill mellow, yeah?” He talks Dorian through his thought process and his actions. It’s a slow day, and he’s rather proud of having enough technical skill to semi-confidently diagnose this issue without calling Kat in. Having an audience for it is a serious perk.

[red-feathers-and-bone]

Dorian wrestles the back door open to get at his safety glasses. It takes a few tries, and he has to slam his boot into the door twice, but finally it opens with the squeal of hinges in desperate need of oiling. He emerges soon after with a pair of scratched and worn safety glasses, and retreats back to behind the yellow line again.

“I’m eh…I’m not gonna talk too much while-while you work, if that’s okay. But I like knowing what’s going on so eh…so you talking is cool.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“If you got questions, ask ‘em.” Jair encourages as he unscrews a thing and dips a depth stick in to test colour and level.  “Your brake fluid is good.. Colour ish. It’s not dirty or mixed with anything. But it’s really really low. That by itself could be the problem, but i want to try and put some water through it and see if there are any leaks before I fill it up. It’s gonna take a little time, and I’ll have to charge you a small fee for that, but I think, since… The colour is good, if it’s a leak, then you’d rather know now and get it fixed. Getting a refill only for the problem to come back is. Gonna be way more expensive in the long run. Is that okay? We’d be looking at that twenty bucks for time and labour cost I mentioned earlier.”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

“Yeah that’s-that’s fine.” He nods, leaning forward to get a better look at what he’s doing. Still staying well behind the yellow line, of course.

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“So..” He steps back from the hood, taking the fluid cap with him, and presses a large button. There’s a hydraulic noise and the trac-system that the van was parked on starts to raise, giving Jair access to the undercarriage. “Brake fluid likes water a lot. If any is get in your system.. It works bad. Works worse. Less good?” He risks a glance over at Dorian, only a second or so, before his attention resumes under the van.  “Im gonna let out the fluid, and see if what’s in your system is also good- the tank is good, but if what is in the lines is bad, then that says where closer the problem is.” He points towards the nose of the car. “The good fluid isn’t getting in, or is getting clogged somewhere.”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

Dorian nods, and true to his word doesn’t say much during the process. He seems interested though, watching Jair intently.

“Thanks - for all this.” He says once his van is on the ground again. “Really. Most eh…most places’d probably try to fuck me over, coming in like this.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“Kat says treat every guest like family. You said you was with Koschei. Even if we aren’t related, then you’re family beside family. Being Community is a whole new kind of the same thing.”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

“Yeah.” He smiles and nods. “Kos was real eh…was - waitwhat? What?” His eyes go big and he takes half a step back as he finishes processing the rest of what Jair says.

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jair hesitates on the bolt he was loosening to undo the cable to look over. Even though he’s wearing greasy work gloves, he still wipes the left fingertips on the thigh of his jumpsuit- an established stained on the otherwise well washed suit shows this to be a habit.  “…You said Koschei referenced you to us, right?”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

“Yeah, ‘cause-‘cause he’s a decent guy, there eh…there was no Community talk. At all.” Dorian shoves his hands in his pockets.

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“Oh. My bad, friend.” Jair ducks back under the car and gets back to his bits and bolts. “Don’t worry about it then. Rates don’t change none if that worries you. We’re solid.”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

“No, it’s…I just eh…I just didn’t know. This town, this place is-is not what I’m used to. No Community, where I’m eh…where I’m from. Kinda Us and-and Them, you know?”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jair hesitates enough to look out at Dorian from under the car. He stays where he is, hand still poised on the wrench. “When you say Community, what’s it you mean by that. Just to satisfy me we’re on the same words.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

It's midmorning on a miserably rainy sort of Tuesday, the day when Kat comes in a little later now. So Jair's all alone when a red van comes trundling into the front parking area. It's seen better days, there's rust spots near the bottom and around the door handles, and has its share of dents and scratches. A youngish guy steps out, his skin a warmish sort of gold and his nose large and almost beak-like. He looks around, nervous, before making his way toward the office.

Jair takes his feet off of the cooler, but leaves his book in hand, thumb holding the place even if he sets it down on the desk by the time the customer comes in. It’s a small field guide about ???Hornets, ants, and wasps??? There’s even an index halfway through full of colour photos. As the door opens and the bell in the car bay chimes, he’s pulling his hand out from under it and standing up, wearing a grungy, green-drab jumpsuit, though his hands are lava-soap clean, even under the nails. “Welcome, welcome,” He greets, in thickly accented english, “How can we help you today?” He doesn’t smile, not with his mouth, but there’s no tensity in his face either. He’s just not the grinning sort. Hell, some of the non-community members who come here are glad for the fact, he’s creepy enough without giving a toothy grimace of a face.

[red-feathers-and-bone]

Dorian crouches with him, watching him work. He nods at the dial, understanding that part, at least.

“How…how d'you fix it?”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jair spends most of his time looking up into the undercarriage of the vehicle, but occasionally spares a glance towards Dorian. “So what we want to do here is flush out your brake lines. Make sure there aren’t any leaks. Kind of like filling up your tire to see if there’s a hole in it we aren’t seeing. That’s no big deal. Twenty bucks maybe. We also want to top off your brake fluid, because the lack of it is causing your problem, but if we just fill it up and it’s leaking out somewhere… You’ll have to come back to somebody, and if you heard about us from Koschei, then we’re the best deal in town.. I’m hoping you’re just low and it’s not a big deal, but I can get you sorted in probably an hour if it’s you’re lines somewhere.”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

More nodding.

“Twenty bucks I can do now, no…no problem. Hope there’s no leaks, eh?” He smiles.

“Can I-I watch you do all that, too?”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“You gotta put on eye protection, just in case, and stay outside the yellow line…” Jair points on the floor where, around both car jack sites is a thick block painted yellow rectangle that gives the car about a meter of room in any direction, “But if you promise not to sue me if you get hurt, I don’t really have an issue with it…” He pulls out his phone and offers to take a recording. Because hell no he’s not opening Kat to that kind of liability without backup. Jair lives his entire life in CYA mode when he’s not being a complete nut job.

[red-feathers-and-bone]

“Sure - I-I got safety glasses in there…?” He gestures to his van, and takes a few more steps back from the yellow line.

“I eh…I promise not to sue this auto shop due to-due to injuries i might get because I elected to stay and watch you work. That-that work?”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“I’m.. Not a law person, but it should be good enough to say I warned you and you … say its okay..” He ends the recording and repockets the phone, adjusting the front of his jumpsuit and checking the zipper. “But.. uh. Yeah. Imma take a look, an’ we’ll flush the brake line and see if there’s any leaks, after checking to see if you’re just low on fluid, e? Then I can say better if… There’s big repairs to do, and you decide how to do it.” For the first step, all Jair has to do is pop the trunk. He hovers his hand over the engine block for a moment, checking the temperature after lifting the bonnet. As he does this, he looks over- “If the engine is hot, some of the liquids might steam or splash when I open seals. So I have to make sure everything is … chill mellow, yeah?” He talks Dorian through his thought process and his actions. It’s a slow day, and he’s rather proud of having enough technical skill to semi-confidently diagnose this issue without calling Kat in. Having an audience for it is a serious perk.

[red-feathers-and-bone]

Dorian wrestles the back door open to get at his safety glasses. It takes a few tries, and he has to slam his boot into the door twice, but finally it opens with the squeal of hinges in desperate need of oiling. He emerges soon after with a pair of scratched and worn safety glasses, and retreats back to behind the yellow line again.

“I’m eh…I’m not gonna talk too much while-while you work, if that’s okay. But I like knowing what’s going on so eh…so you talking is cool.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“If you got questions, ask ‘em.” Jair encourages as he unscrews a thing and dips a depth stick in to test colour and level.  “Your brake fluid is good.. Colour ish. It’s not dirty or mixed with anything. But it’s really really low. That by itself could be the problem, but i want to try and put some water through it and see if there are any leaks before I fill it up. It’s gonna take a little time, and I’ll have to charge you a small fee for that, but I think, since… The colour is good, if it’s a leak, then you’d rather know now and get it fixed. Getting a refill only for the problem to come back is. Gonna be way more expensive in the long run. Is that okay? We’d be looking at that twenty bucks for time and labour cost I mentioned earlier.”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

“Yeah that’s-that’s fine.” He nods, leaning forward to get a better look at what he’s doing. Still staying well behind the yellow line, of course.

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“So..” He steps back from the hood, taking the fluid cap with him, and presses a large button. There’s a hydraulic noise and the trac-system that the van was parked on starts to raise, giving Jair access to the undercarriage. “Brake fluid likes water a lot. If any is get in your system.. It works bad. Works worse. Less good?” He risks a glance over at Dorian, only a second or so, before his attention resumes under the van.  “Im gonna let out the fluid, and see if what’s in your system is also good- the tank is good, but if what is in the lines is bad, then that says where closer the problem is.” He points towards the nose of the car. “The good fluid isn’t getting in, or is getting clogged somewhere.”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

Dorian nods, and true to his word doesn’t say much during the process. He seems interested though, watching Jair intently.

“Thanks - for all this.” He says once his van is on the ground again. “Really. Most eh…most places’d probably try to fuck me over, coming in like this.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“Kat says treat every guest like family. You said you was with Koschei. Even if we aren’t related, then you’re family beside family. Being Community is a whole new kind of the same thing.”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

“Yeah.” He smiles and nods. “Kos was real eh…was - waitwhat? What?” His eyes go big and he takes half a step back as he finishes processing the rest of what Jair says.

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jair hesitates on the bolt he was loosening to undo the cable to look over. Even though he’s wearing greasy work gloves, he still wipes the left fingertips on the thigh of his jumpsuit- an established stained on the otherwise well washed suit shows this to be a habit.  “…You said Koschei referenced you to us, right?”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

“Yeah, ‘cause-'cause he’s a decent guy, there eh…there was no Community talk. At all.” Dorian shoves his hands in his pockets.

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“Oh. My bad, friend.” Jair ducks back under the car and gets back to his bits and bolts. “Don’t worry about it then. Rates don’t change none if that worries you. We’re solid.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

It's midmorning on a miserably rainy sort of Tuesday, the day when Kat comes in a little later now. So Jair's all alone when a red van comes trundling into the front parking area. It's seen better days, there's rust spots near the bottom and around the door handles, and has its share of dents and scratches. A youngish guy steps out, his skin a warmish sort of gold and his nose large and almost beak-like. He looks around, nervous, before making his way toward the office.

Jair takes his feet off of the cooler, but leaves his book in hand, thumb holding the place even if he sets it down on the desk by the time the customer comes in. It’s a small field guide about ???Hornets, ants, and wasps??? There’s even an index halfway through full of colour photos. As the door opens and the bell in the car bay chimes, he’s pulling his hand out from under it and standing up, wearing a grungy, green-drab jumpsuit, though his hands are lava-soap clean, even under the nails. “Welcome, welcome,” He greets, in thickly accented english, “How can we help you today?” He doesn’t smile, not with his mouth, but there’s no tensity in his face either. He’s just not the grinning sort. Hell, some of the non-community members who come here are glad for the fact, he’s creepy enough without giving a toothy grimace of a face.

[red-feathers-and-bone]

Dorian crouches with him, watching him work. He nods at the dial, understanding that part, at least.

“How…how d'you fix it?”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jair spends most of his time looking up into the undercarriage of the vehicle, but occasionally spares a glance towards Dorian. “So what we want to do here is flush out your brake lines. Make sure there aren’t any leaks. Kind of like filling up your tire to see if there’s a hole in it we aren’t seeing. That’s no big deal. Twenty bucks maybe. We also want to top off your brake fluid, because the lack of it is causing your problem, but if we just fill it up and it’s leaking out somewhere… You’ll have to come back to somebody, and if you heard about us from Koschei, then we’re the best deal in town.. I’m hoping you’re just low and it’s not a big deal, but I can get you sorted in probably an hour if it’s you’re lines somewhere.”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

More nodding.

“Twenty bucks I can do now, no…no problem. Hope there’s no leaks, eh?” He smiles.

“Can I-I watch you do all that, too?”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“You gotta put on eye protection, just in case, and stay outside the yellow line…” Jair points on the floor where, around both car jack sites is a thick block painted yellow rectangle that gives the car about a meter of room in any direction, “But if you promise not to sue me if you get hurt, I don’t really have an issue with it…” He pulls out his phone and offers to take a recording. Because hell no he’s not opening Kat to that kind of liability without backup. Jair lives his entire life in CYA mode when he’s not being a complete nut job.

[red-feathers-and-bone]

“Sure - I-I got safety glasses in there…?” He gestures to his van, and takes a few more steps back from the yellow line.

“I eh…I promise not to sue this auto shop due to-due to injuries i might get because I elected to stay and watch you work. That-that work?”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“I’m.. Not a law person, but it should be good enough to say I warned you and you … say its okay..” He ends the recording and repockets the phone, adjusting the front of his jumpsuit and checking the zipper. “But.. uh. Yeah. Imma take a look, an’ we’ll flush the brake line and see if there’s any leaks, after checking to see if you’re just low on fluid, e? Then I can say better if… There’s big repairs to do, and you decide how to do it.” For the first step, all Jair has to do is pop the trunk. He hovers his hand over the engine block for a moment, checking the temperature after lifting the bonnet. As he does this, he looks over- “If the engine is hot, some of the liquids might steam or splash when I open seals. So I have to make sure everything is … chill mellow, yeah?” He talks Dorian through his thought process and his actions. It’s a slow day, and he’s rather proud of having enough technical skill to semi-confidently diagnose this issue without calling Kat in. Having an audience for it is a serious perk.

[red-feathers-and-bone]

Dorian wrestles the back door open to get at his safety glasses. It takes a few tries, and he has to slam his boot into the door twice, but finally it opens with the squeal of hinges in desperate need of oiling. He emerges soon after with a pair of scratched and worn safety glasses, and retreats back to behind the yellow line again.

“I’m eh…I’m not gonna talk too much while-while you work, if that’s okay. But I like knowing what’s going on so eh…so you talking is cool.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“If you got questions, ask ‘em.” Jair encourages as he unscrews a thing and dips a depth stick in to test colour and level.  “Your brake fluid is good.. Colour ish. It’s not dirty or mixed with anything. But it’s really really low. That by itself could be the problem, but i want to try and put some water through it and see if there are any leaks before I fill it up. It’s gonna take a little time, and I’ll have to charge you a small fee for that, but I think, since… The colour is good, if it’s a leak, then you’d rather know now and get it fixed. Getting a refill only for the problem to come back is. Gonna be way more expensive in the long run. Is that okay? We’d be looking at that twenty bucks for time and labour cost I mentioned earlier.”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

“Yeah that’s-that’s fine.” He nods, leaning forward to get a better look at what he’s doing. Still staying well behind the yellow line, of course.

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“So..” He steps back from the hood, taking the fluid cap with him, and presses a large button. There’s a hydraulic noise and the trac-system that the van was parked on starts to raise, giving Jair access to the undercarriage. “Brake fluid likes water a lot. If any is get in your system.. It works bad. Works worse. Less good?” He risks a glance over at Dorian, only a second or so, before his attention resumes under the van.  “Im gonna let out the fluid, and see if what’s in your system is also good- the tank is good, but if what is in the lines is bad, then that says where closer the problem is.” He points towards the nose of the car. “The good fluid isn’t getting in, or is getting clogged somewhere.”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

Dorian nods, and true to his word doesn’t say much during the process. He seems interested though, watching Jair intently.

“Thanks - for all this.” He says once his van is on the ground again. “Really. Most eh…most places’d probably try to fuck me over, coming in like this.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“Kat says treat every guest like family. You said you was with Koschei. Even if we aren’t related, then you’re family beside family. Being Community is a whole new kind of the same thing.”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

“Yeah.” He smiles and nods. “Kos was real eh…was - waitwhat? What?” His eyes go big and he takes half a step back as he finishes processing the rest of what Jair says.

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jair hesitates on the bolt he was loosening to undo the cable to look over. Even though he’s wearing greasy work gloves, he still wipes the left fingertips on the thigh of his jumpsuit- an established stained on the otherwise well washed suit shows this to be a habit.  “...You said Koschei referenced you to us, right?”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Darcy looked more tired than usual as she flopped herself into her usual position on the stairwell. No chicken and brown rice this time, she had what smelled like a nice salmon meal, in a lunchbox with a shark on it. She ate silently for a moment or so, before saying "I need a favour" in French, quietly.

“C’est.” He answers, just as quietly. It’s not even a question, it’s a confirmation. They might come off to others as rivals, frenemies at best, but if she’s gonna humble herself enough to ask for help from him? He’s not going to turn her down without a reason. “Que’es que?”For someone who doesn’t speak french, he’s… at least grasped a very basic set of vocabulary. Certainly nowhere near fluent… but enough to awkwardly confirm ‘it is’ and ask ‘what is it’ in textbook beginners Parisian.

[joan-of-darcy]

She repeated the address, adjusting the load on her own back as to make it more comfortable.

“’S going to be a bitch to jog to school, but I’ll manage.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“…THat’s my house.” Jair stumbles through, looking quite confused, shifting his load as they walk to free a hand so he might grab his phone and text Hawke.  “Who gave that address?”

[joan-of-darcy]

“The person who offered me a room, Hawke. The fuck do you mean it’s your house?”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“Hang on..” Jair answers, trying to one-hand his phone to send a text message. Then another. “I mean. I live there.” Pause, another quiet vibration from his phone and his immediate attempting to send another message. “I live with Hawke.”

[joan-of-darcy]

“…fuck, are we going to be housemates?”

Darcy let that one stew in her mind for a bit, trying to work out her feelings on it.

“That’s going to be weird.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jair seems, honestly and genuinely, concerned by that last comment. Whatever he was about to say clips itself off.  Instead? “.. …Why?”

[joan-of-darcy]

“I don’t know, just seems like it would be weird seeing you all the time.”

She shrugged.

“Maybe not bad weird.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“Think of it as Uni prep. I got a couple rooms is for just me…but.. uh. I got a workout room. You.. You can use that, much as you like, if you wanna stay down on the ground stairs with me.” Jair hesitates. “Upstairs is Hawkes, downstairs is me…. But. uh. There’s more rooms than people. So if you wanna be downstairs, I’m cool with that.”

[joan-of-darcy]

Darcy briefly looked kind of touched that he’d suggest she could stay in ‘his’ section, having already figured that her staying with them would put him out.

“If you’re cool with it, I’ll stay downstairs.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“Lot of rooms. The waiter space is mine. THe hallways is hard to find, so don’t look for it.” He says sternly. “But there’s a lot of rooms, and there’s one in the  back with some gym stuff. Enjoy that, use that. Yeah?”

[joan-of-darcy]

“I had to leave most of my gym shit behind, so that’s appreciated.”

She gently elbowed him in the side, just a small gesture of friendly affection.

“Ugh, I’m going to have to find a job. Maybe I could follow in my mére’s footsteps, become a medium.”

She snorted, as if the idea were inherently ridiculous.

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“I mean, uh. Hawke ain’t asked me for rent yet... But I buy my own food, I cook my own meals.. I help with repairs.. If you ha’nt got money then be useful somewhere to make up for it, you know? Hawke’ll tell you if there’s something needed off you, but it won’t be a surprise or a strong arm neither.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

It's midmorning on a miserably rainy sort of Tuesday, the day when Kat comes in a little later now. So Jair's all alone when a red van comes trundling into the front parking area. It's seen better days, there's rust spots near the bottom and around the door handles, and has its share of dents and scratches. A youngish guy steps out, his skin a warmish sort of gold and his nose large and almost beak-like. He looks around, nervous, before making his way toward the office.

Jair takes his feet off of the cooler, but leaves his book in hand, thumb holding the place even if he sets it down on the desk by the time the customer comes in. It’s a small field guide about ???Hornets, ants, and wasps??? There’s even an index halfway through full of colour photos. As the door opens and the bell in the car bay chimes, he’s pulling his hand out from under it and standing up, wearing a grungy, green-drab jumpsuit, though his hands are lava-soap clean, even under the nails. “Welcome, welcome,” He greets, in thickly accented english, “How can we help you today?” He doesn’t smile, not with his mouth, but there’s no tensity in his face either. He’s just not the grinning sort. Hell, some of the non-community members who come here are glad for the fact, he’s creepy enough without giving a toothy grimace of a face.

[red-feathers-and-bone]

Dorian crouches with him, watching him work. He nods at the dial, understanding that part, at least.

“How…how d'you fix it?”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jair spends most of his time looking up into the undercarriage of the vehicle, but occasionally spares a glance towards Dorian. “So what we want to do here is flush out your brake lines. Make sure there aren’t any leaks. Kind of like filling up your tire to see if there’s a hole in it we aren’t seeing. That’s no big deal. Twenty bucks maybe. We also want to top off your brake fluid, because the lack of it is causing your problem, but if we just fill it up and it’s leaking out somewhere… You’ll have to come back to somebody, and if you heard about us from Koschei, then we’re the best deal in town.. I’m hoping you’re just low and it’s not a big deal, but I can get you sorted in probably an hour if it’s you’re lines somewhere.”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

More nodding.

“Twenty bucks I can do now, no…no problem. Hope there’s no leaks, eh?” He smiles.

“Can I-I watch you do all that, too?”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“You gotta put on eye protection, just in case, and stay outside the yellow line…” Jair points on the floor where, around both car jack sites is a thick block painted yellow rectangle that gives the car about a meter of room in any direction, “But if you promise not to sue me if you get hurt, I don’t really have an issue with it…” He pulls out his phone and offers to take a recording. Because hell no he’s not opening Kat to that kind of liability without backup. Jair lives his entire life in CYA mode when he’s not being a complete nut job.

[red-feathers-and-bone]

“Sure - I-I got safety glasses in there…?” He gestures to his van, and takes a few more steps back from the yellow line.

“I eh…I promise not to sue this auto shop due to-due to injuries i might get because I elected to stay and watch you work. That-that work?”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“I’m.. Not a law person, but it should be good enough to say I warned you and you … say its okay..” He ends the recording and repockets the phone, adjusting the front of his jumpsuit and checking the zipper. “But.. uh. Yeah. Imma take a look, an’ we’ll flush the brake line and see if there’s any leaks, after checking to see if you’re just low on fluid, e? Then I can say better if… There’s big repairs to do, and you decide how to do it.” For the first step, all Jair has to do is pop the trunk. He hovers his hand over the engine block for a moment, checking the temperature after lifting the bonnet. As he does this, he looks over- “If the engine is hot, some of the liquids might steam or splash when I open seals. So I have to make sure everything is … chill mellow, yeah?” He talks Dorian through his thought process and his actions. It’s a slow day, and he’s rather proud of having enough technical skill to semi-confidently diagnose this issue without calling Kat in. Having an audience for it is a serious perk.

[red-feathers-and-bone]

Dorian wrestles the back door open to get at his safety glasses. It takes a few tries, and he has to slam his boot into the door twice, but finally it opens with the squeal of hinges in desperate need of oiling. He emerges soon after with a pair of scratched and worn safety glasses, and retreats back to behind the yellow line again.

“I’m eh…I’m not gonna talk too much while-while you work, if that’s okay. But I like knowing what’s going on so eh…so you talking is cool.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“If you got questions, ask ‘em.” Jair encourages as he unscrews a thing and dips a depth stick in to test colour and level.  “Your brake fluid is good.. Colour ish. It’s not dirty or mixed with anything. But it’s really really low. That by itself could be the problem, but i want to try and put some water through it and see if there are any leaks before I fill it up. It’s gonna take a little time, and I’ll have to charge you a small fee for that, but I think, since… The colour is good, if it’s a leak, then you’d rather know now and get it fixed. Getting a refill only for the problem to come back is. Gonna be way more expensive in the long run. Is that okay? We’d be looking at that twenty bucks for time and labour cost I mentioned earlier.”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

“Yeah that’s-that’s fine.” He nods, leaning forward to get a better look at what he’s doing. Still staying well behind the yellow line, of course.

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“So..” He steps back from the hood, taking the fluid cap with him, and presses a large button. There’s a hydraulic noise and the trac-system that the van was parked on starts to raise, giving Jair access to the undercarriage. “Brake fluid likes water a lot. If any is get in your system.. It works bad. Works worse. Less good?” He risks a glance over at Dorian, only a second or so, before his attention resumes under the van.  “Im gonna let out the fluid, and see if what’s in your system is also good- the tank is good, but if what is in the lines is bad, then that says where closer the problem is.” He points towards the nose of the car. “The good fluid isn’t getting in, or is getting clogged somewhere.”

[red-feathers-and-bone]

Dorian nods, and true to his word doesn’t say much during the process. He seems interested though, watching Jair intently.

“Thanks - for all this.” He says once his van is on the ground again. “Really. Most eh…most places’d probably try to fuck me over, coming in like this.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“Kat says treat every guest like family. You said you was with Koschei. Even if we aren’t related, then you’re family beside family. Being Community is a whole new kind of the same thing.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Darcy looked more tired than usual as she flopped herself into her usual position on the stairwell. No chicken and brown rice this time, she had what smelled like a nice salmon meal, in a lunchbox with a shark on it. She ate silently for a moment or so, before saying "I need a favour" in French, quietly.

“C’est.” He answers, just as quietly. It’s not even a question, it’s a confirmation. They might come off to others as rivals, frenemies at best, but if she’s gonna humble herself enough to ask for help from him? He’s not going to turn her down without a reason. “Que’es que?”For someone who doesn’t speak french, he’s… at least grasped a very basic set of vocabulary. Certainly nowhere near fluent… but enough to awkwardly confirm ‘it is’ and ask ‘what is it’ in textbook beginners Parisian.

[joan-of-darcy]

She repeated the address, adjusting the load on her own back as to make it more comfortable.

“’S going to be a bitch to jog to school, but I’ll manage.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“…THat’s my house.” Jair stumbles through, looking quite confused, shifting his load as they walk to free a hand so he might grab his phone and text Hawke.  “Who gave that address?”

[joan-of-darcy]

“The person who offered me a room, Hawke. The fuck do you mean it’s your house?”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“Hang on..” Jair answers, trying to one-hand his phone to send a text message. Then another. “I mean. I live there.” Pause, another quiet vibration from his phone and his immediate attempting to send another message. “I live with Hawke.”

[joan-of-darcy]

“…fuck, are we going to be housemates?”

Darcy let that one stew in her mind for a bit, trying to work out her feelings on it.

“That’s going to be weird.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jair seems, honestly and genuinely, concerned by that last comment. Whatever he was about to say clips itself off.  Instead? “.. …Why?”

[joan-of-darcy]

“I don’t know, just seems like it would be weird seeing you all the time.”

She shrugged.

“Maybe not bad weird.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“Think of it as Uni prep. I got a couple rooms is for just me…but.. uh. I got a workout room. You.. You can use that, much as you like, if you wanna stay down on the ground stairs with me.” Jair hesitates. “Upstairs is Hawkes, downstairs is me…. But. uh. There’s more rooms than people. So if you wanna be downstairs, I’m cool with that.”

[joan-of-darcy]

Darcy briefly looked kind of touched that he’d suggest she could stay in ‘his’ section, having already figured that her staying with them would put him out.

“If you’re cool with it, I’ll stay downstairs.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“Lot of rooms. The waiter space is mine. THe hallways is hard to find, so don’t look for it.” He says sternly. “But there’s a lot of rooms, and there’s one in the  back with some gym stuff. Enjoy that, use that. Yeah?”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Darcy looked more tired than usual as she flopped herself into her usual position on the stairwell. No chicken and brown rice this time, she had what smelled like a nice salmon meal, in a lunchbox with a shark on it. She ate silently for a moment or so, before saying "I need a favour" in French, quietly.

“C’est.” He answers, just as quietly. It’s not even a question, it’s a confirmation. They might come off to others as rivals, frenemies at best, but if she’s gonna humble herself enough to ask for help from him? He’s not going to turn her down without a reason. “Que’es que?”For someone who doesn’t speak french, he’s… at least grasped a very basic set of vocabulary. Certainly nowhere near fluent… but enough to awkwardly confirm ‘it is’ and ask ‘what is it’ in textbook beginners Parisian.

[joan-of-darcy]

She repeated the address, adjusting the load on her own back as to make it more comfortable.

“’S going to be a bitch to jog to school, but I’ll manage.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“…THat’s my house.” Jair stumbles through, looking quite confused, shifting his load as they walk to free a hand so he might grab his phone and text Hawke.  “Who gave that address?”

[joan-of-darcy]

“The person who offered me a room, Hawke. The fuck do you mean it’s your house?”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“Hang on..” Jair answers, trying to one-hand his phone to send a text message. Then another. “I mean. I live there.” Pause, another quiet vibration from his phone and his immediate attempting to send another message. “I live with Hawke.”

[joan-of-darcy]

“…fuck, are we going to be housemates?”

Darcy let that one stew in her mind for a bit, trying to work out her feelings on it.

“That’s going to be weird.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jair seems, honestly and genuinely, concerned by that last comment. Whatever he was about to say clips itself off.  Instead? “.. …Why?”

[joan-of-darcy]

“I don’t know, just seems like it would be weird seeing you all the time.”

She shrugged.

“Maybe not bad weird.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“Think of it as Uni prep. I got a couple rooms is for just me...but.. uh. I got a workout room. You.. You can use that, much as you like, if you wanna stay down on the ground stairs with me.” Jair hesitates. “Upstairs is Hawkes, downstairs is me.... But. uh. There’s more rooms than people. So if you wanna be downstairs, I’m cool with that.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Darcy looked more tired than usual as she flopped herself into her usual position on the stairwell. No chicken and brown rice this time, she had what smelled like a nice salmon meal, in a lunchbox with a shark on it. She ate silently for a moment or so, before saying "I need a favour" in French, quietly.

“C’est.” He answers, just as quietly. It’s not even a question, it’s a confirmation. They might come off to others as rivals, frenemies at best, but if she’s gonna humble herself enough to ask for help from him? He’s not going to turn her down without a reason. “Que’es que?”For someone who doesn’t speak french, he’s… at least grasped a very basic set of vocabulary. Certainly nowhere near fluent… but enough to awkwardly confirm ‘it is’ and ask ‘what is it’ in textbook beginners Parisian.

[joan-of-darcy]

She repeated the address, adjusting the load on her own back as to make it more comfortable.

“’S going to be a bitch to jog to school, but I’ll manage.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“…THat’s my house.” Jair stumbles through, looking quite confused, shifting his load as they walk to free a hand so he might grab his phone and text Hawke.  “Who gave that address?”

[joan-of-darcy]

“The person who offered me a room, Hawke. The fuck do you mean it’s your house?”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“Hang on..” Jair answers, trying to one-hand his phone to send a text message. Then another. “I mean. I live there.” Pause, another quiet vibration from his phone and his immediate attempting to send another message. “I live with Hawke.”

[joan-of-darcy]

“…fuck, are we going to be housemates?”

Darcy let that one stew in her mind for a bit, trying to work out her feelings on it.

“That’s going to be weird.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Jair seems, honestly and genuinely, concerned by that last comment. Whatever he was about to say clips itself off.  Instead? “.. ...Why?”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

Darcy looked more tired than usual as she flopped herself into her usual position on the stairwell. No chicken and brown rice this time, she had what smelled like a nice salmon meal, in a lunchbox with a shark on it. She ate silently for a moment or so, before saying "I need a favour" in French, quietly.

“C’est.” He answers, just as quietly. It’s not even a question, it’s a confirmation. They might come off to others as rivals, frenemies at best, but if she’s gonna humble herself enough to ask for help from him? He’s not going to turn her down without a reason. “Que’es que?”For someone who doesn’t speak french, he’s… at least grasped a very basic set of vocabulary. Certainly nowhere near fluent… but enough to awkwardly confirm ‘it is’ and ask ‘what is it’ in textbook beginners Parisian.

[joan-of-darcy]

She repeated the address, adjusting the load on her own back as to make it more comfortable.

“’S going to be a bitch to jog to school, but I’ll manage.”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“…THat’s my house.” Jair stumbles through, looking quite confused, shifting his load as they walk to free a hand so he might grab his phone and text Hawke.  “Who gave that address?”

[joan-of-darcy]

“The person who offered me a room, Hawke. The fuck do you mean it’s your house?”

[dancingwolfstumblingfool]

“Hang on..” Jair answers, trying to one-hand his phone to send a text message. Then another. “I mean. I live there.” Pause, another quiet vibration from his phone and his immediate attempting to send another message. “I live with Hawke.”