Chloë du Gard picks pockets (slightofhands) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-04-14 19:41:00 |
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Once upon a time, Chloë du Gard was a budding machinist. She had a few years of training to her name and yet she walked away. However, that did not mean she abandoned the skills she acquired from that time. She still worked with the machinery and some people who knew that decided to send her in to help matters along. Meaning, she received payment for knocking a few gears out of place. These sorts of things paid fairly well and she was knowledgeable enough to know which ones to knock out of place where it wouldn't look like it was sabotage. She wandered past a bike that caught her eye. It wasn't on the list, so she had no intentions of loosening screws or cutting cables, but it was of fascinating construction. She wandered closer, cautiously, glancing about and when she felt she was alone, she came close enough to take a close look. She squatted down next to the bike, tucking some brown hair behind her ears and looking at the engineering used. Interesting. Though, she could already think of some improvements that might be useful. “Touch it and die.” The voice was deceptively mild, but Cian’s expression promised that he was more than willing to carry out the threat. That the woman’s face was familiar once she looked up didn’t serve to relax his stance. She ran with Kinlan, didn’t she, and tiny once in awhile? Didn’t matter. She needed to step the hell away from his bike. “You moving, or am I moving you?” he asked. “Three seconds to make up your mind. Three… two…” Chloë's head snapped up to see the owner of the bike approaching. Cian? Bloody hell. She didn't budge immediately and when he started counting she stood, "Calm down. I wasn't going to touch her. Him? Have you given it a gender yet? I was just having a look, that's all." She avoided the eyeroll that threatened, only because this was Cian and she knew better for the most part. At least when he had that sort of look in his eyes. She took a step back, "I take it this one is yours? Or have you placed a bet on it and are trying to protect your investment?" Chloë looked at the bike in an admiring way once more. There was a reason this bike didn't make her list. That reason stood before her and a moment before threatened her with a look. “It’s not a ship, is it,” he said dryly, a statement rather than a question. Maybe he just wasn’t as sentimental as the corsairs who named their vessels and assigned them genders and personalities. The bike was a thing he owned, a tool, a method of transportation. (A well-loved thing, granted, but a thing nonetheless.) Why name it? “Good guess,” he said; “it’s mine. I’m riding later, so if you’re trying to get someone to fall out of the sky, I’ve got a whole list of suggestions for you. Rather you didn’t, though,” he added, the chill in his voice warming slightly now that he was assured she would leave the bike alone. “I prefer to win clean -- and my money’s on me.” "Well, just because you do, doesn't means others feel the same way," Chloë returned, "but really, I'm just wandering about to see what everything looks like before it finds itself in pieces. Not everyone is a winner, and those that lose end up as scraps." She looked back down to the bike and placed her hands on her hips, staring down at it. "Did you build it yourself or did you have someone else do it for you? You'll do well, though I think you might have overcomplicated some things from what I see. Perhaps you like that sort of thing," she shrugged her shoulders up, "But I didn't get a proper look, so I can't say for sure." Perhaps there was reason behind what he did, or whoever put this together. It would do well though, as she said, but she just knew it could be better. “If others want to fuck with the competition, it’s not my game, so it’s not my problem.” With a shrug, he left them to their fates. “Long as no one fucks with me, I’m not going to make it my business.” He looked at her, considering -- machinist roots, or just a busybody? He honestly couldn’t recall -- then said, “I didn’t do most of the mods on it, but they’re all there for a reason.” Not that he’d be using some of the more unique features this afternoon -- he’d had his mechanic modify the hell out of the hover and flight capabilities, but today was just about the engine and his driving. Fair was fair. “Why would I be interested in letting you get a proper look?” he asked. “Think you could do better?” "Even if some other people racing might meet an...unfortunate twist of fate along the way, I'm just offering some advice on what I know," Chloë said taking a couple of steps to the side to look around the bike, "If I had enough time, I could give her slightly better handling. But that's just from a glance. I'd have to ride the thing myself, and I doubt you'd be so forthcoming. Besides, I never work for free." And she also doubted that Cian would offer to not only let her ride the hoverbike, but also pay her to make some adjustments. Too little time. "Just looks like some of your work might make it a bit stiff on particularly hard turns. But if you're racing it, you probably found ways to compensate for that." Cian, from what she knew of him, was well known for his smarts. "Perhaps another time, if you're interested in having a second opinion, I can offer one for you," she said and then took a couple of steps back, "but for now, I suppose I should make my way out of here. Busy day ahead." She'd prefer that Cian not remember her, even if she had offered to help him in the future. “I’ll consider it,” he said. “You got a name to go with that opinion?” He probably should have known it, but in the way of such things, it hadn’t stuck. Still, he could ask around, see what her reputation was like -- and if she did know what she was doing, this encounter could prove useful. He did like things that worked out to his favor, especially on accident. “Or you could just go, no skin off mine. But you probably already know I could give you some business, if you’ve got the skills to back that boast up.” "Chloë," she offered, "I think that should be sufficient enough. And I'm….around. I'm sure if you ask people, the ones that count will the ones that know how to get in contact with me." She preferred not to have her name be all that well known, but a selective small group knew her well enough. She worked with Rhys regularly, she knew Ari and Audrey well, and she often served as Ofelia's source for whatever the gambler needed. She kept moving back, "I will go. But I am skilled in more than just mechanics. That can be discussed for another time. You have a race to prepare for, and I have some work to finish." And with the spin of her heel, she vanished through the threshold of the door. |