#baronyofthesilverwolf

"....Is this some kind of test?"

"Not really." A small flash of wolfish teeth. "Everyone here has something to offer. You waffled on which of the options I gave you, so you're making the decision unconsciously. Set the parking brake." As Danica unfolds herself out of the small seat.

She sets the brake, and offers the keys to Danica after getting out.

She accepts and slides into a pocket, then heads in. A little bell tinkles merrily as the door opens, and Coral (for such was the name given earlier to that peachy-pink never) zips in ahead of them!

Thistle follows. She had half-expected Danica to want to go to the gun store.

The hardware store - well, it's safe.

It smells of sawdust and metal and paint and epoxy and...

And grease, gears, lubricant, cleaners, and that hot smell/taste in the air that is like ozone.

A woman behind the counter, currently in a state of - assembly? Disassembly? Repair? Autopsy? On what may have once been a toaster. She looks up, bright spirals on her cheeks faded to a ruddier red with middle-age.

"Aw, geez, Dani, you come to bust my balls? I haven't broken any ordinances, and you know it. You're not still peeved about the hedges, are you?" She grouses.

Thistle's reaction is... curious.

First, she lights up - looking at the project, at the scattered parts, at the working hands with curiosity.

But a moment later, she shutters - fading a touch to lurk behind Danica's form.

"No, I am not. But I am glad you brought that up-"

Danica is interrupted by a hand slammed down on the table. The hand is rough, nails cut very short and stained with grease. "-Because I told you, we had a contract, &^&-dabbit! You wanted the hedges shorter, and you got em! If you didn't want me to use a flamethrower, you should have SAID as much. And it's not like the shutters couldn't be repainted!"

Chime! Coral agrees!

There's that look on Danica's face, the one that says a vein is going to start poppin' in her forehead.

"If you would just let me-" She is patient, but interrupted once again.

The nocker jabs a finger towards her. "-and it was GRACIOUS of us, that's what it was, to discount the work finished. The Hedges are trimmed, ain't they? So if you're coming here to stir up old shit, there's the door, and don't let it hit your (@#*($ on the way out-"

Mumbled. "Sorry, thane. We can go..."

"Eh? Who's back there? Speak up! Did you bring the little leg-breaker?"

"ZELDA." Danica rumbles, sternly. "This is Thistle. She is Silverwolf's Fledge, and I bring her to you, perhaps belatedly, to discuss a project."

Danica, traitor, steps aside, taking away the wall of comfort.

You know that dream, where you are standing in front of the classroom, unprepared, in your underwear?

"Well then why didn't ya furkin' say so? Wastin' my time jawing on about hedges!"

Danica's vein starts that pulse.

"C'mere, gal. Right up to the counter, that's right." Zelda taps the counter top.

A frown, and she steps up.

"Lemme see yer hands" Zelda reaches out her own hands to take Thistles, if offered.

Her spirals are muddy as she offers out her hands. Knobby, twisted, calloused things - while Thistle is a teenager, her hands have seen lifetimes that she can only catch glimpses of. Her nails are chewed down, cuticles dirty with paint and clay.

The hands that take hers are similar! Knobby, twisted, calloused. Nails cut short and flat with no attention to fashion, one finger actually purpled under the nail from being pinched or slammed - it takes a few months for that to grow out. Where Thistle has traces of paint and clay, Zelda has grease and oil, and hardened bits where glue adhered to skin and was left, or torn away.

"You got good hands, kid." Approval in her voice.

"Working hands. Strong hands. Not baby soft, noble-spit cake and tea-eatin' hands, fit only to pick yer nose and sign proclamations."

Danica rumbles.

"I waren't saying YER Nobles, Sarge. Get off it."

Mumble-shrug

"Oi, speak up. I ain't old, but I'm half deaf from working with machinery."

"I do stuff. Fix things."

"You got an idea how to fix a bum toaster? The heatin' coil has gone and rusted through, an' I thought I'd put a flipper on the top, catch the extra heat to fry an egg and when it pops, flip the whole shebang onto a plate. Can't tell why the flipper ain't flipping." She shoves the tray over towards Thistle - a rather clever tabletop tray on roller that keeps small parts from being lost.

"Mm..." She takes it to poke at it.

Mostly a toaster, an older model, no circuit boards and electronic displays, just a good ol' heating element and coils, and the new conflabbery Zelda has added on.

Poke-poke-poke, wiggle, test...

Muttering to herself.

Danica is patient, and silent. Zelda leans back on the counter, crunching on hard candy. She offers the tin over to Thistle, only a little grease smudged.

She takes one as she works. "Oh, hey, lookit..." She shoves the toaster at Zelda, tapping at a spring.

"Whassit?" She squints in at the spring.

"Why's that... why..." A muffled curse.

"Dang thing's gone backwards."

"Right? That'll do it."

She takes it out, rubs it with a greased rag, and then pops it back in. The side is clapped back on the toaster, and then the button depressed. THe aluminum flipper sits over the heat and turns red hot, then with a CLICK, it flaps upright. "Eureka! That's the ticket. And Alder said it couldn't be done." Zelda snaps her fingers in glee.

"Anything can be done, somehow or th'other."

She considers. "TECH-nically, I think he said "shouldn't", but that's quitter's talk. So, what you in for? We do household appliances, repair and improvement, and small niche machinery - snow blowers, leaf blowers, lawn mowers, edgers, trimmers, tractors, iffin' you can get them through the loading dock door, we'll service it."

"....You mentioned flamethrowers?"

"RIGHT, so, you know them big beefy hedges outside yer lordship's McMansion? The hydra-whatsits. See, they drop all their mess on the ground when you prune 'em back in the fall. So I figured, if we got a hedgetrimmer that scorches off the dead leaves and buds at the same time, whammo, half the work, saves you money, saves me time!"

"That... okay.."

"You know, you can add a flame thrower to most anything if you just know how to finagle the fuel canister and a proper nozzle... whatchu got need flaming?"

"Bushes, firewood, ex boyfriend?"

"I... was thinking about making one."

"And maybe you could mix different fuels, so you could get different kinds of fire. Like dragon breaths." She frowns. "It's stupid."