Who: Star & open Where: The covered carport out back When: Afternoon-evening of the 19th What: Car repair Warnings: Not likely, since Star doesn’t talk, she may swear textually though. Star had found most seats by way of a small miracle at the local junkyard, another Grand Am of the previous year’s model had already been stripped down for salvageable parts after a major front-end collision. One of her coworkers at the market had even offered the use of her truck to get them to the complex, which Star was going to make her a pie for in thanks, but not just yet, right at that moment she was in the middle of making a list of what actual engine parts she needed, both of the seats in the shadow of the carport, she’d bolt them down later.
She was already grease-streaked, but that was to be expected, and her poof of curls was held down with a bandanna and her battered cadet cap, turned around backwards to keep the brim out of her way and to aid in covering her hair. She still wasn’t entirely sure what the prior owners had done that had left the paint job and body work intact, but had left the engine and the interior such a wreck, from what she could tell it had had rodents nesting in it before it had gotten to her, and all she could guess was that the owners had wanted to keep up appearances and had kept the exterior clean and cared for even as the inside was torn to bits. She figured it said a lot about the kind of people they were.