@ikkaku-of-heart answered [+]
Ikkaku jumped, having not heard the man approach. She’d been sitting at her workstation, trying to ignore the Marines that had sauntered into the dockyard like they owned the place. Joras had lately been attracting all kinds of folks due to the engine- and ship-repairing work they were slowly getting known for, but unfortunately, that included the Navy. Sure, business was business, but those white coats and arrogant expressions set her teeth on edge.
Though, mostly she was just biased because of who they made her think of.
She chanced a glance over her shoulder, noting the focused gold eyes, sharp jawline, tailored suit, and spotted hat. It was so, so tempting to reach over and “accidentally” press her grease-covered hand to the dangling ivory sleeve. Too bad she knew she had to play nice. He looked important, and the boss would dock her pay if she pissed off a potential customer.
“Not really,” she stated, eyes shifting forward as she tightened the last few screws. Even with a Marine looming over her, she refused to neglect her work. “It’s just a six-cylinder X15 diesel engine. Nothin’ special. Typical order for us, really, since most lobster boats use ‘em. I could build one in my sleep.”
It was stated as a fact more than a brag. After all, she couldn’t remember a time when she wasn’t tinkering with some kind of machine, to the point where she was building her own generators and engines from scratch by the time she was twelve. Yet, the men on these docks didn’t care much about that. No matter how hard she worked, they never acknowledged her skills, seeing her as little more than a pretty face. Hell, if they weren’t so short-handed, they’d be making her work the front desk filing paperwork instead of utilizing her engineering prowess.
Job done, she turned in her seat to better look at the observing Marine, grabbing a rag to wipe off her hands. She let her gaze trail up and down his lanky figure, taking him in, before her eyes fell on his polished shoes.
“You’re standing in an oil puddle. Better watch your step, otherwise you might slip and get that fancy uniform all dirty, and wouldn’t that be a shame?” she said, though the way the corners of her mouth tugged upwards belied that she’d find that highly satisfying.
A smirk at the way she jumps, the Marine Captain setting his jaw to suppress the low chuckle that sight elicits. He straightens, hands getting shoved into his pockets. Eyes focus on the woman, an eyebrow arching with her response. Gaze slides back to the engine, taking in the multiple pieces and tubes. The whole thing looks like a mad maze of metal to him. He can explain every human organ and its function but there is nothing here that is remotely familiar to him. She’s sitting here talking about what she is doing like it is the most natural thing in the world.
Everyone else here is clearly attempting to show off, to draw his attention and perhaps get picked up by the Marine recruitment vessel. They know what he is here for and given the benefits of enlisting he knew to expect some people trying to earn his recommendation, but this woman has no desire for that. In fact, it seems like she isn’t interested at all. She’s not even looking at him as she speaks. It’s intriguing. Just like the ease with which she works. It’s almost surgical.
“You’ve been workin’ on that by yourself?” he asks. Another thing of note. While all the men here seem to need some form of assistance she doesn’t. “How long has it taken you?”
Too many questions maybe but an idea has taken shape. What Law wants to create one day needs an engineer he can trust and maybe he’s found the spark for that. The woman turns about, her job apparently done. His head tilts as she appraises him, the Captain making no motion to shift his relaxed stance or indicate he cares about her wandering gaze. Then comes that comment about his shoes.
Law looks down at that puddle, an amused huff slipping from him. The sarcasm in her voice tells him she’d much prefer he did get his pristine coat soiled. Perhaps she doesn’t have a good opinion of the Marines. Maybe she sees him as just another rank and file self righteous piece of shit. Guess this is his chance to show her he isn’t, or that he’s at least a different type of shit.
“Yeah, not gonna worry ‘bout that,” he says, head rising to reveal a wicked smirk on his features. “Got a whole damn wardrobe filled with these things. Kinda necessary considering how often I get covered in blood.”
