Reesyn, NM

Who: Zac Finch, Sid Reynolds
When: August 17, 4pm
Where: Zac's Auto Shop & Fuel
Rating/Warning: Highest is likely PG13

The fuel half of the business had no problems with Mondays, but the garage was always on the slow side. He'd already taken care of Liz's car, it being a small problem, as he'd suspected, and moved it to the small parking area. In shop he had a couple dirt bikes that had come in over the weekend, and one broken muffler to repair. Aside from that, the 1971 Dodge Demon, a special restoration project, was the only other engine in the garage.

Which is how he found himself wandering in and out of the gas station, mostly sitting on the counter and surveying the people who happened to come in and out. He was fully aware he was annoying his cashier, but, again, couldn't say he cared. They were being paid, so they could very well deal with him sitting on a counter he owned. The second time he wandered in and hopped on the counter, he grabbed a bag of chips, ripping them open and snacking.

He'd stayed there for awhile before deciding it was probably time to work on the dirt bikes. From what he'd gathered, it would be an easy enough job and he could be bothering his customers once more. So he'd hopped off the counter and headed back through the door connecting the garage and gas station, flipping on the light and turning up the radio before he set to work.

Not having heightened hearing like so many of the people in town, Zac never heard anything over the music blaring in the garage.

Who: Zac Finch, Macha Culann
When: August 15, 7:20pm
Where: The Twilight Moon
Rating/Warning: TBA

If there was one thing in the world Zac loved as much as his bike, it was annoying Macha Culann. He took every opportunity he could to irritate her, especially when he'd had a boring week so far. There was nothing like an irate Macha to liven the place up, after all.

If he was honest, he'd admit there was probably something twisted about their entire relationship, but he'd never been that interested in thinking too hard about things. So instead he grabbed a shower and got dressed for a evening of pissing off the she-wolf.

With a smirk on his face he climbed onto his bike, then rode the short distance to the Twilight Moon. He'd parked and climbed off the bike, heading to the bars entrance. His smirk still firmly in place when he pushed through the doors and headed toward the bar to grab a beer.