All things turn into dark green water.

Help, I'm alive...

I do have the tendency to be a bit pushy, I guess.

I wouldn't say it's in a particularly rude way, but I do tend to take the reigns of a situation and steer the crowd.  Leadership qualities, as Ma would say. Machines are not really any different, although they tend to rebel more aggressively than people.  I am pleased that this time, my wishes and prayers have been answered.  The compressor would likely be the easiest fix in the machine, aside from a simple fan replacement.

Cian's laugh is somewhat unexpected, given how serious and glum he was upon our last meeting, but I am glad for it.  Happiness is better when it can be shared with someone else.  "Truly," I agree with his assessment of his skills.  He does make an additional comment about there potentially being more problems.  I grimace slightly and wave my hand at him in dispute.

"I'm just going to keep assuming it's just the compressor," I say, half-jokingly.  "Avoid the buzzkill of reality for a while."  I do understand his perspective though.  I guess if you always assume the worst, you're just pleased by an average outcome.  I never could be happy with average.

I turn around and lean my lower back against the edge of the table, turning my head to look at Cian.  "Well, I owe you one.  Saved me a good bit of my sanity."

Iara

My heart keeps beating like a hammer
Hard to be soft, tough to be tender

Pick yourself up, up off the floor
Wipe the tears from off your face, because the cops are knocking on the door

He should be happy they've found the issue, and he is! However, he might have developed a bad habit of not trusting when things seem to go well, but he does try to keep a positive view. "It's probably harmless to assume that, so I shall believe that we have found all that needs fixing." Worst that can happen is that the machine keeps not running as it should after the compressor and fans have been replaced, and it would only bring them back to square one.

Not like anything will explode or catch fire, so there's nothing to be wary about and he tries to appreciate the moment of victory.

His smile turns to a softer one when she mentions owing him and he crosses his arms over his chest, looking a hint awkward at it and shakes his head. "Oh, not really. I mean, happy to be saving your sanity, but you really don't owe me." He sneaks a gloved hand in under the scarf around his neck to scratch some at the hidden rashes. "I'm just happy to be of help... And hey, it can be compensation for scaring your dinner away before."

Still, he stores it away in a small corner of his mind. Calling in favours is nothing he likes doing at all, but knowing he might have at least someone to turn to should he need help with something in the future is probably a good thing. Depending on what it is, of course. He doesn't want to risk dragging others into trouble.

CIAN

Help, I'm alive...

"See?" I say, with a grin plastered against my lips.  "Nothing exploded or fell apart when you decided to be a bit optimistic."  I wink, as to solidify the joke.  I understand why people tend to be a bit more of a realist in this day and age, but I cannot help but try to maintain a sense of positivity.  It's all too easy to slip from realist to nihilist, after all.  Cian doesn't seem like the nihilistic type.  He mentioned briefly when we met that he had gotten stuck here by accident, and then suffered some mishaps at the masquerade, so I know that his cautiousness is not unfounded.

He begins to protest when I say that I owe him a favor, which I find equal parts kind and frustrating.  I'm of myself a bit, since a similar thing just happened with Zeph for returning his umbrella.

"Oh, please," I say with a sigh.  "I probably woulda thought of the compressor eventually, but you saved me and the client a lot of time.  It means a lot."  A genuine smile stays on my face as I watch his hand drift up to his neck.  I think nothing of it, since I myself have largely avoided the rashes and itchy skin plaguing a lot of the city.

He mentions the missing dinner, and I hardly care anymore.  What's done is done.  Still, I sense that I won't be convincing him otherwise.  "Yeah, yeah.  Just keep me in mind if something comes up that I can help with," I insist, nudging him lightly with my elbow.  "I'm always happy to help out a friend."

It's a big assumption on my part, but I honestly feel that if you work in a shop together, you are friends. 

Iara

My heart keeps beating like a hammer
Hard to be soft, tough to be tender

Pick yourself up, up off the floor
Wipe the tears from off your face, because the cops are knocking on the door

He isn't the nihilistic type, and he is usually more positive and less wary of things. Perhaps he just needs a few more good days in a row to start properly ease up again. For the moment, it is work enough to try and take one day at the time and stop glancing nervously over his shoulder all the time. He's done a little progress, at least.

The awkwardness remains, but a small smile find its way back and he nods at her, trying his best to just accept the compliments. She then says she'll be happy to help out a friend and it first makes him look almost surprised for a fraction of a second, then he relaxes again while the smile grows a bit on his face. He doesn't mind being seen as a friend. Honestly, he is happy that she can see him as one and she has so far seemed like the good kind of person. Not the so called "friends" he used to hang with back home when he was younger. That kind that will throw you to the side as soon as you don't keep up in the way they want to.

"I promise to keep you in mind, should I need the help." He responds with another nod and chuckles softly. Then he gestures to the dehumidifier. "So, fairly easy fix for that one then? Some replacements and hopefully it will be as good as new." His eyes briefly scan the other items lying around on the table and he feels a small temptation to start poking around with them too.

He won't just start with that, though. Knowing full well to not start poking around on someone's work table just like that. But his fingers are itching a bit, and not only from the rashes.

CIAN

Help, I'm alive...

The smile on his face flickers, with his expression blanking for a second as the word friend registers.  My own smile is easy, unwavering, and calm by comparison.  He's probably noticed by now that I'm easy going.  He can choose for himself either way, but I've decided that we're friends and he cannot hope to change my perspective now without resorting to desperate measures.

His smile returns though, with a promise.  "Good," I say, since he assures me that he'll call upon me if I'm needed.

My eyes follow his gesture to the dehumidifier.  "Yeah, should be," I say.  "I can probably get the compressor out without needing to dismantle the whole thing, and I think this one-" I point to the small compressor sitting on my legal pad "-should fit.  If not there were a couple more in the drawers."

I look back at him and notice his eyes drifting to the other various items on the table.  I think he looks very familiar  to a child sitting in the window of a department store, gazing longingly at the toys inside.  I let out a laugh and then rest one of my hands on his shoulder.  "If you want to work, I'm not going to stop you."

I release my grip and gesture toward the table before busying myself with the dehumidifier.

Iara

My heart keeps beating like a hammer
Hard to be soft, tough to be tender

Pick yourself up, up off the floor
Wipe the tears from off your face, because the cops are knocking on the door

He looks to the compressor she picked out, then back to the one in the dehumidifier and nods in agreement. "Looks like it might, yeah." His mind almost starts going through a list of more possible faults, just in case the machine still wouldn't be fixed, but he quickly shuts it up. Positive thinking! More fail-search will have to wait for when and if it is needed and he just has to believe in the victory they seem to be having.

Her hand on his shoulder draws him back and he lights up when he's allowed to get his hands on the items on the table. "Thanks. Feels like it's been ages since I've done any of this kind of work at this point." While not really ages, his stay in the city is coming up to a year soon and he can't help but finding that thought frightening, yet impressive at the same time. How he somehow still had managed to keep going without ending up on the streets. Well, at least not for any longer period of time.

With the look of indeed a child being allowed into the toy shop, he moves over to one end of the table to have a look some of the clocks, finally loosening the scarf around his neck and lets it just hang over his shoulders instead. It had started to get too warm and itchy under it, and getting some relief from that won over keeping the rashes hidden. Even if he is far from the only one with them, they still made him feel uncomfortable.

He picks up one of the clocks to have a closer look at it. "Is it just you working here, or are there normally more people around?" He asks curious, peering over towards Iara as he tries to keep his mind partially on conversation and partially on the item he's holding at the same time.

CIAN

Help, I'm alive...

He manages to avoid dipping back into listing potential problems, which I find myself happy about.  We can list potential problems all day, but until we actually start solving the ones we know are a concern, we won't get anywhere.

Cian also looks pleasantly surprised that I offer up the table of broken crap to play around with.  Realistically, the shop has more orders than we can keep up with these days, since we've branched outside of vehicle repairs.  With the plague ravaging the city, we've also been pretty short staffed most days.  "Of course.  I told you before that we can always use another set of skilled hands here."

"If you need anything, the main toolbox is over there by the truck, and the drawers on that far wall have spare parts,"  I gesture broadly in the direction of the large red toolbox, followed by a quick wave in the direction of the wall of shelves I'd already visited earlier.  "Nothing's labeled, so if you can't find something let me know."

I, myself, pull a wrench from the surface of the table, looking at the size before setting about removing the compressor.  I hardly notice that Cian had moved to the other end of the table and picked up one of the clocks until he speaks again.  I glance up from behind the machine for a moment, before turning my eyes back down.  "Nah, lots of folks work here.  Ginny and I are the only ones 'home' today, though."

"Ginny owns the shop, obviously.  She's upstairs in her apartment right now, should be down in a bit," I say in casual tone.  "We've got a few people out on calls for structural damage from floods or machines that are too big to reasonably move.  I think Garth made a house call to some bougie Plater - big pay days, those, and usually simple fixes.  A few more are out sick because of the plague."  The last nut securing the compressor comes free, and I twirl it easily with a finger before jiggling the small little machine loose.

Iara

My heart keeps beating like a hammer
Hard to be soft, tough to be tender

Pick yourself up, up off the floor
Wipe the tears from off your face, because the cops are knocking on the door

He looks from the toolbox to the shelves as she points each out and nods. That there are no labels doesn't bother him much. If anything, it can give him an excuse to just go curiously searching through each one just to see what's there. The disorder almost makes him smile as well. "It's like shop at home then. If an outsider stepped into the workshop part of the store, they might have a mental breakdown at the mess. But the family can find anything they need with their eyes closed."

His eyes grow a bit distant for a second as he speaks, then he shakes his head with a soft smile and comes back to reality to listen. They seem to be a busy shop indeed and he can imagine they would not run out of work anytime soon with the weather causing so much trouble again and again.

"Seems like good business, though I can imagine the pain of having to deal with machines in these conditions. With everything being soaked in grimy water and all that." He mutters while leaning in even closer to study the details of the clock, then puts it down to move over to have a search through the toolbox.

"So you don't think Ginny minds you having a stranger being here, poking around with your things?" He sends Iara a small grin over his shoulder, still trusting that she probably wouldn't have invited him in if she knew there would be an issue with it.

CIAN

Help, I'm alive...

I smile as he describes his family's shop, since it's sounds familiar and comfortable. I remember he mentioned they mostly work on trains and the like, which means a lot of the machinery coming in and out likely looks different. At the end of the day, when you're fixing what's broken, you're bound to have a lot more in common than you might think.

"Yeap,You get the hang of it pretty fast. It's tidy, despite the disorganization." He'd see if he opened the drawers of the toolbox especially. Ginny kept most things neatly lined up in order from smallest to largest gauge - making it fairly easy to find what you're looking for quickly. If a tool is missing from the lot, it's likely sitting on the table next to the last machine it was used on.

He mentions the state of the machines that come in, and I laugh a sharp little cackle. "Rust is the number one enemy of the shop, for sure," I say. The water slowly whittles away at even the best kept machines. If any millimeter of the metal wasn't properly treated and sealed, a spot of rust breaks through and eats away at the frames from the inside out. "Makes most of the repairs easy to diagnose but sometimes harder to fix if we can't find replacements."

He asks about Ginny as he moves over to the toolbox. I look at him with a knowing smile. "She met me when I was trying to rob her for a quick buck about twenty years ago," I say, a genuine sense of warmth radiating from my voice as I think back. "Instead of turning me into the police, she just gave me something better to do than steal."

"She fixes more than just machines. It's what I've always admired about her," my sincere voice trails off as I glance toward the spiral staircase, half expecting to see her sitting on the steps listening. She's not, though. "So, no, she won't mind."

Iara

My heart keeps beating like a hammer
Hard to be soft, tough to be tender

Pick yourself up, up off the floor
Wipe the tears from off your face, because the cops are knocking on the door

He gives the inside of the toolbox an approving nod when he opens it, and spends a moment just looking through what is available while listening to Iara talking about Ginny. He pauses his search for a second when she mentions attempting to rob the shop owner and he is not really sure how to react to that. If he should be more surprised over Iara having tried to steal things, or that she didn't get into more trouble for it.

"That's... Unusually kind of her. Think most people would just turn you in." He himself had been lucky it was his own parents finding out about his secret illegal lifestyle and put a stop to it (temporarily) before the wrong person had found him out. "I shall do my best to not accidentally break anything, more than it already is, so you won't get into any trouble still." He continues with a quiet chuckle and picks out some tools he thinks he needs.

Returning to the table, he puts the tools down and has another look around at everything. His mind once again wandering back to her mentioning of trying to rob the owner and then drifts further towards his past. Thinking how many things would have disappeared into his pockets had he still been a teen in that gang and been at a place like this. Not that he has any wish what so ever to do it now, but knowing that he could quite easily do it makes him feel uncomfortable. As if he fears some possible impulse that can make him do with without thinking.

He snaps out of his mind before it can make him space out for several minutes, and he starts working on carefully opening the clock to see how the situation is inside it.

CIAN