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Post by Deleted on Sept 10, 2012 5:25:05 GMT 2
[/b][/size][/color][/right] The slamming of a door shattered the blissful silence that once engulfed the peaceful auto mechanics shop in an instant, waking every living creature that dwelled within the confines of the metal walls; the noise did not stop there. Tools and metal carts clambered to the stained concrete floor as various pieces of loose sheet metal slammed up against one another in a horrid symphony of chaotic music. Whoever had entered that shop was clearly pissed off and if the racket they were creating was not enough to express this, their tone of voice surely did the job. ”Yo, Ophie-Baby! Where you at girl?!” bellowed the man who was currently in the process of destroying the garage, his eyes wild as he waited for some sort of response from the woman who lived just up the flight of stairs and down a back hall. The room must have remained silent a moment too long for the man’s taste though for he quickly slammed his hand down against the hood of a 1998 Dodge Avenger that was parked to his right; the dent that he left behind in his wake was not a pretty one. ”Yo Bitch! I know yo ass is up there!! Get the---“
”Shut up you bastard!” The man’s little rant was quickly cut off by a soft feminine voice that carried through the large shop though there was not a body to connect to the noise. In fact there was not a single person in sight other than the burly man who stood in the middle of the shop with his arms crossed across his chest, a scowl painted on his face as he waited for just a moment longer. It was an extremely short moment though, one that lasted perhaps two minutes before he was opening his oversized mouth to scream at the woman once again.
”I said shut up, Drag. I will impose a charge for being forced to listen to your incessant blabbering on top of what it will cost to repair that pretty little dent you made.”
The petite young woman who had been cursing at the hostile man acted as though she had not said a single word to him as she waltzed down the metallic stairs that lead to her loft, her body clad in a dingy white v-neck and coveralls that had been tied off around her waist instead of pulled up onto her arms. From the look in the female’s crystalline eyes it was more than obvious that she was pissed off at the man, but instead of choosing to get into a yelling match with the buffoon she had settled for tying her pale locks up at the top of her head with a hair tie. Half the times he wondered why she even bothered with Drag since he was such an impatient fool, but then she would quickly remember the reason why. Money always spoke so much louder than words and this idiot’s cash spoke volumes; getting paid a couple hundred dollars to put up with his idiocracy made her pain worthwhile.
With a small huff Ophelia came to a halt in front of the man, her hands resting on her hips as she waited for him to tell her what exactly he wanted – with his car might she add. ”Nice to see ya, babe. Now I know that you were hoping to get a piece of action from me this afternoon and with the right words I might just---“ A growl quickly cut of the idiot’s perverted train of thought as the young woman ground out a ”Get to the fucking point,” her eyes sparkling with rage as she taped her fingers against her hip. God she wished that he did not pay as good as he did; she would kick him out of her shop in a heartbeat. He was lucky that it only took a little verbal abuse to shut up his useless tirades.
”My fuel line busted while I was driving down the I-40. Got gasoline all over the off-ramp, but it held long enough for me to go do that cute little pen trick ya taught me, babe. I just need ya to replace that shit for me; I’ll pay ya good like always.” The explanation that he gave was a little rushed since he really did not want to have to deal with the hostile female much longer, but Ophelia got the basics of what he had said to her and could not help but to roll her eyes at him. It seemed as though the idiot was always corroding his fuel line with the interesting concoctions that he dumped down his tank – but hey, who was she to judge? Maybe one day it would actually work.
No more words were necessary between the two as Ophelia raised her hand and waved him off, a smirk lifting to his lips as he perused his way over to the door that he had slammed open earlier to fetch his car. As he went the young woman both walked over to the control pad for her doors and evaluated the state of her shop. Sadly the place looked as though a tornado had ripped through it with all of the shiny metal tools that were tossed across the concrete, but she would have to pick it up later much to her discontent. Drag never liked to be kept waiting and losing his business was not on list of priorities. She supposed that one of these days she would actually get the chance to punch him across the face, but until then she would have to settle for charging him extra perhaps throwing a wrench at him. Her fingers typed the code to the doors open with ease and within seconds of pressing the final key they began to roll up to reveal the bright Los Angeles sky and a bright red 1993 Pontiac Firebird.
The gargled noise of the Firebird’s engine was a depressing sound to say the least and one that thoroughly confirmed the man’s accusations. She only hoped that he had not eaten up a part of his engine with his latest experiment because if he did the price tag would not be a pretty sight. ”Take good care of my baby girl Dezey, ‘kay? ‘Kay,” Drag said as he tossed her the keys, his smirk only seeming to grow wider as he waved her a goodbye. Ophelia could not help but to growl at the man’s retreating form as she clutched his keys in the palm of her hand; now she really wanted to bash his pretty little skull in with a wrench. Being ordered around was always something that truly got under her skin and the only way she knew how to calm down was to rip apart a few engines: Drag’s would work quite nicely.
The young woman spent the next ten minutes hurriedly rummaging about her shop in search of the materials that she would need to repair the Firebird – well the ten minutes that followed her setting up her radio to blast a high speed song were. Now she lay on a trolley beneath the poor vehicle though, her hands working diligently to pull the fuel line down from the frame of the car. The once clean line was now severely warped and melted in a few places, but even that was nothing compared to the color that it had been stained. The once black line had turned a putrid blue color thanks to the fuel mixture that had been circulating through it and all the young woman could do was wonder what on earth Drag had been pumping through his car; if his fuel line looked like this she could only imagine what the state of his engine was right now. Suddenly the thought of laughing in his face for this little stunt of his seemed so much more enticing, but alas she knew well that she could not do such a thing.
Without any further delays Ophelia began to skillfully remove the ball point pen that had been used as a temporary connector from the fuel line. She had a lot of work to do and only a small amount of time to do it, so she hoped that nobody came into the shop to bother her. Even if they did though they would probably have to come rip her out from underneath the car to even get her attention.[/font] ☤ OUTFIT | Described in Text. TAG | Whomever Comes Along ♥ . SETTING | Los Angeles, California // Early Morning // Ophelia's Loft & Shop. WORDS | 1,473. OOC | This post seemed to develop a mind of its own by the end, so please do not feel intimidated! (:[/ul][/ul]
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Post by Deleted on Sept 10, 2012 6:12:08 GMT 2
After getting some breakfast at an Ihop, Manako decided to go for a little drive. As he was driving down the road Manako noticed his car was driving a little off. He then noticed a Garage on his left and decided to pull up to it and take a look at his car. As he got out of his car he opened the hood and began looking at his engine. He then check the oil to see if he needed to add any, which he didn't. So he got back into his car and got onto the computer to check for anything strange. As he was checking he noticed a the heat of the engine was as little high. Oh wow need more coolant he thought. As he got back out of his car he walked into the Garge and looked around but didn't see anyone. So he yelled "HELLO ANYONE HERE?!"
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Post by Deleted on Sept 10, 2012 7:08:43 GMT 2
[/b][/size][/color][/right] The chaotic bliss that was created by the music that poured from the radio speakers just to the right of the young woman underneath the Firebird seemed to continue to pick up in tempo, the bass getting so loud at one point that smaller parts hanging from the wall rattled slightly in rhythm with the music. It was something that Ophelia did not notice since she was far too busy ripping all of the fuel lines out from the underneath of the car, but on some subconscious level it soothed her. Music often helped the female to create a safe haven in which she could function, a world where not a single person could destroy her concentration. Today it was not doing its job as well as it should have been though and that was clearly demonstrated by the fact that she heard the screeching of what seemed to be a young man over the beat. The noise started startled her of course – she had not been expecting it after all – and in her mild shock she ended up smacking her head on the axel and smudging grease all along her face. She was going to kill Drag when she got her pale fingers wrapped around his pudgy little neck.
A string of cuss words slipped past Ophelia’s lips almost immediately after her little incident with the metal rod simply because her head was beginning to pound in a way that could only be described as fucking painful; the fact that there was now grease smudged all across her face only added insult to injury. The young woman quickly rolled herself out from underneath the car and grabbed her rag from the floor so she could wipe off her face and as soon as she was done with that she was on her feet. To say that her eyes were filled with rage was probably the biggest understatement of the century; Ophelia was downright livid. Now she was going to have a lovely bruise marring her already pale flesh and in all honesty, she planned on adding that little item to Drag’s list of expenses. Sure she did not necessarily have the right to charge him for her own mistake, but that did not mean that she could not do it if he was the reason that she banged her head against his car. Besides, he loved having her as his mechanic and he would continue to pay out the nose to keep her around for this little stunt of his.
After wiping her face off with the cloth the female pressed the grungy material to the place on her face that was beginning to tingle with a sensation that could only be described as some sort of numbness. She knew that the prickled feeling was probably not a good sign, but right now she had other issues to deal with; her flesh would have to wait a few minutes to be relieved with an ice pack. Without missing a beat she stalked over to the radio and flipped the power button off before charging around the corner with murderous intent; God was she surprised when she did not find Drag’s cocky face awaiting her.
Her mouth went dry as her eyes landed upon a young gentleman who was standing in the doorway to her shop, confusion written all over his face as he observed the details of what most likely appeared to be an empty shop. Suddenly she felt somewhat self-conscious of her now dirtied shirt and black streaked face – but hey, what could she really do about it besides suck it up? The answer to that rhetorical question was obviously nothing. It was with that thought that Ophelia pushed aside all feint insecurities and strode up to the man, her pulling the rag down from her face before shoving it into her pocket without looking at it. ”Hey! Did you need something or were you just screaming for the hell of it?” she asked the man with slight agitation in her voice, her eyes darting up and down his body as she tried to figure out just why he of all people would wander into her shop. He did not seem the type to let just anyone handle his car so it was probably safe to assume that he was most likely just looking for some sort of part or simple item for his vehicle.[/font] ☤ OUTFIT | Described in Text. TAG | Manako Sora ♥ . SETTING | Los Angeles, California // Early Morning // Ophelia's Loft & Shop. WORDS | 778. OOC | Yay, I got a reply! (:[/ul][/ul]
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Post by Deleted on Sept 10, 2012 23:30:04 GMT 2
As a young beautiful woman with grease on her face and shirt walked up. Manako froze there looking at her because he had never met a girl who was a mechanic. That's hot Manako thought to himself. His day dreaming was broken when she spoke to him he then answered back smiling "What? Oh yeah I need a case High Performance Coolant please. If you have any?"
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Post by Deleted on Sept 11, 2012 6:06:17 GMT 2
[/b][/size][/color][/right] Of course it did not take a genius to figure out that the young man was lost in his own little world by the dumbfounded look that was painted on his face, but even if it did Ophelia would have picked up on it in a heartbeat. She had always been quite skilled at reading people’s silent cues and to her this gentleman was an open book. Every little gesture he made told her something new about him and in all honesty, she had to resist the urge to laugh in his face when he was suddenly thrown back into reality by some odd cue in his mind. To say that his transition was ungraceful would have been a complete understatement: he looked downright ridiculous. God he was lucky that she had a splitting migraine for otherwise she would have teased him to no end with her delicious little remarks. Oh well; she supposed that she would just have to wait for Drag to return so she could verbally rip someone apart.
His sputtered request did not go unnoted in her mind though despite the little tangent that her thoughts had taken off on. In fact she had begun to walk off to her storage room the second he finished replying to her question, a simple ”Hold on,” slipping past her lips before she was gone. Like any good mechanic Ophelia always kept a few gallons of High Performance Coolant stashed away in case of emergency; she just happened to be a good mechanic with a secret addiction to illegal street racing, thus turning those few gallons into a few cases. When she entered the room her crystalline eyes perused the various shelving units for the icy liquid that she was in search for and luckily for her the case she desired was rather easy to spot. Ophelia did not even bother to open the plain brown box which contained the liquid; she only threw it onto her hip and stalked back out to the open part of the garage where the young Asian gentleman await.
Her entrance into the work area of her shop was near silent despite the fact that the young woman was wearing work boots and carrying a box that weighted half as much as she did, but she was quick to announce her presence as she unceremoniously dropped the item onto her workbench. Obviously her hip did not feel the greatest since she had just been carrying half her weight on the protruding bone that rested there, but it was still nothing in comparison to the throbbing pain in her head. Besides, it was not as though she would have to carry the box around any farther than she had. Ophelia was not this man’s personal play thing after all; he was going to have to learn sooner or later that people did not cater to their every whim simply because they asked nicely.
”Here you go; one case of High Performance Coolant. I hope you realize that this stuff is not cheap because I do not plan on giving it up for anything less than forty dollars a gallon.” The words that Ophelia spoke slipped past her lips with ease; throwing snide remarks at people had always come to her far easier than breathing had it seemed and in all honesty she could have cared less who she hurt.
However, no amount of disregard for the man’s feelings could have killed her curiosity over why he would need so much High Performance Coolant. It was rare that she needed more than a gallon of the icy liquid so his request sent a clear message; there was only one question left on her mind now. ”So what kind of vehicle do you plan on pouring this stuff down anyways? Please do not tell me that it is a pathetic little Skyline.” Ophelia could not help but to throw that beautiful line at him, a smirk coming to paint her lips as she awaited his reaction. Of course the young woman really had nothing against the Skyline model - they were gorgeous cars - , but she could not resist the opportunity to throw that line at him since she would have placed money on him owning one.[/font] ☤ OUTFIT | Described in Text. TAG | Manako Sora ♥ . SETTING | Los Angeles, California // Early Morning // Ophelia's Loft & Shop. WORDS | 749. OOC | None.[/ul][/ul]
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Post by Deleted on Sept 12, 2012 0:11:29 GMT 2
Manako was doing some math when she said forty dollars a gallon and before he could finish his math she dissed his Skyline. He looks at her with annoyance and said "If you must know yes I am and I would appreciate you respecting my car she may not look like much but there is some serious horse power under that hood." then Manako hands her $600 and continued "Keep the change. Also how would like to get coffee sometime my treat?"
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Post by Deleted on Sept 13, 2012 19:03:11 GMT 2
[/b][/size][/color][/right] With a smirk that could have rivaled that of the Cheshire Cat’s painting her lips the young female reached over and plucked the roll of money from the male’s hand before flipping it open to count just how much he had offered. She acted as though she had not even heard the comment about his Skyline as she skimmed over each bill, that being far more intriguing to her in that moment as she added the numbers together in her head. By the time the female reached the end of the stack she could not help but let a small feeling of satisfaction wash over her simply because the young man’s promise of giving her six hundred dollars rang true. It was with that knowledge in mind that Ophelia casually rolled the money back up into a neat stack before placing it in her bra; after all, a large transaction such as this one was far safer in that place then it was in her pocket.
Now that she had gotten what she wanted from the male though the young woman really had no other business with him so without another word she pulled her dirtied rag from her pocket to wipe off her hands, images of the half destroyed fuel line filtering through her mind. Ophelia really wanted – no, needed – to get the corroded tubes of plastic in the Firebird replaced today and the engine flushed out because if she did not she would have to deal with Drag’s incessant whining; these were the thoughts that began to consume the female’s mind as she perused a mental catalog of what she would need to go fetch in the next hour. However, no matter how lost in her thoughts she was beginning to become Ophelia was still somewhat aware of what was going on around her and she just happened to be even more aware of it when the male spoke to her once again. It would not have been a complete lie to say that the female was shocked by the offer presented to her, but it was most likely not for the reasons one would expect. Being asked on a simple outing had become quite rare for Ophelia simply because the majority of the people she met despised her attitude. In fact she would have assumed to add this male to the list of people who were not fond of her for the snide remark she had made about his precious Skyline. For some odd reason though the young woman’s playfully icy words had not fazed him as much as had originally believed and she had to give him credit for that. Most men would have strangled her a few times in their mind by now for even thinking of their car in a negative manner.
Still it did not matter how appealing his little offer may have been; the issue of that the bright red car of Drag’s proposed was at the top of her priority list. ”Well as lovely as that offer sounds I have to deal with an imbecile’s ride. I do not think that he would appreciate me running off and leaving his baby unattended to,” she explained to him with her soft voice, her crystalline eyes flickering up to take in the image of the Asian male’s face once more before she mentally cursed Drag for having the worst timing she had ever had the misfortune to encounter. ”Besides, I am not exactly dressed to go anywhere but under a car right about now. [/font] ☤ OUTFIT | Described in Text. TAG | Manako Sora ♥ . SETTING | Los Angeles, California // Early Morning // Ophelia's Loft & Shop. WORDS | 644. OOC | It is not a very good post sadly, but it will have to do. I apologize! D:[/ul][/ul]
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Post by Deleted on Sept 13, 2012 21:28:04 GMT 2
When she turn down his offer about her not being dressed properly Manako smiled and said "Its okay but when you get the chance call me." Manako then walked to his car and took out a piece of paper and wrote on it. Then he walked back over to Ophelia and handed the paper on it. "Here's my number. Also my name is Manako Sora." Manako said smiling.
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