Harry "British and Dumber" Flynn (
flynnitomite) wrote in
thisavrou2017-02-19 07:54 pm
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001; Text;
Now that we're getting all cozy and settled in here, it has occurred to me that I'm without some of my kit from back home, and I'm starting to feel a little naked without it.
I'm thinking of doing a little DIY to rectify that, so if anyone would be a dear and is willing to part with:
- windshield wipers
- hose clamps
- old brassieres (underwire only)
- a propane torch
- pliers
- a grinder
I'd be grateful and maybe even inclined to owe you a favour.
EDIT:
A GUN WOULD BE NICE TOO :)))
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[He bites his lower lip and focuses on sanding out matching valleys on the picks. He nicks his own finger with the file, curses under his breath, and takes another drink before getting to work again.]
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[ It gives her a chance to lift her eyes and watch his expression while he works, studying him while she has the opportunity. There's never been one. But Elena realizes she's too stuck on watching him that she clears her throat and keeps sipping her beer. ]
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Something on your mind, darling?
[He doesn't look up, remaining focused on his craft.]
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[ Best to go back to the bra and wires, digging the blade into the fabric, picking at the threads. ]
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[He is being entirely facetious.]
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I dunno then. If I had to guess I'd say morbid curiosity on your part?
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In a way, yeah. But you asked for help and...neither of us should be surprised I'm here, helping you.
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[His eyes flick up at her this time as he says "kill you," trying to feel out how afraid of him she is.]
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[ She meets his glance, holds it for however long he lets it linger. She means it— each of his limbs would have a name to it, reserved for the slaughter.
Elena quirks a brow and leans forward, giving her bottle a little shake as her smile is tight. She could use another.
Wordlessly, it's slid towards him. ]
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Pretty hot, really.
He chugs the rest of his drink and gets to his feet.]
Coming right up then, sweetheart.
[He winks and wanders over to the bar, returning shortly thereafter with more crappy beer. He wordlessly places her drink in front of her.]
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Thanks.
[ He's buying her shitty booze and she's helping him, again. What the hell is wrong with her? The thought sits like a sour patch kid candy gone bad at the back of her throat. Even the beer can't help push the taste away. Still, she keeps trying. ]
So...
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[Flynn smiles, takes a hearty swig of his beer, and gets right back to work. The rake has taken shape, something of a metal squiggle, and he's intent on polishing it smooth.]
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I'm hardly being cagey, Harry.
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[He pauses and laughs to himself, mirthlessly.]
But then I'm told I'm a bad judge of character so what do I know, eh?
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[ Another long swallow of beer before she holds the bottle in both hands, right ring finger picking with the nail at the edge of her wedding ring. ]
I don't know much about you.
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I'm more or less exactly what it says on the tin, my dear.
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[He shrugs, incredulous.]
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[He doesn't even make an effort to make it seem like it could remotely be true.]
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Ever since I was a foundling child.
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