2011 06 16: Reacquaintance

Searching database...
Mission report found.

Mission Name: Reacquaintance
Date of Mission: June 16th, 2011
Locale: Goterelli's Garage — New Jersey

Diaz makes a delivery to an old friend, running into Cole along the way. They strike up a deal and old friendship.


Cole Diaz NPC

Crime and corruption is no less common in New Jersey than in New York City. If anything, it's worse due to the horrible smell of the air in most places and ugly people; at least, that's how Diaz would explain things considering this area of the state is definitely industrial wasteland meets suburban hell. It's not a grand sight. She's driven past rundown warehouse after the next. She's also cursed under her breath every time she has to drive around a crack, pothole or furrow in the road just so she can keep her car's body kit from being needlessly damaged. Soon enough, she's turning on the headlights of her modified Skyline and slowing down after rounding a corner. At the end of the dead end is a wide driveway leading into a automobile garage.

Diaz heads for this shop. She looks in the rear view mirror briefly before flashing the lights twice on approach. The signal done, it makes it much easier for her to drive into the place when the folks within are pulling one of the bay doors back in order for her to have access. Within the garage, aside from the usual of auto-work, it's a chop shop to the rear near the offices. Diaz is soon turning off the engine and pocketing her keys when easing out of her red and black car. The woman whistles to the work being done.

Freshly sprung from the joint — okay, from an institution for troubled kids, but that sounds way less bad ass — Cole is among the workers here in the chop shop. A bandana over her bleached hair, she's currently covered in grease and just fine with that. The pale teen is leaning over the engine block of a half-dismantled car, carefully working something out from under the hood. Setting the pilfered part gently aside then, she looks up as the Skyline comes rolling into the warehouse, idly wiping her hands on a shop towel as she watches the car slow to a stop. She's about to head back to work when she realizes she recognizes the woman stepping out of the vehicle. Whether or not she'll be recognized in return is debatable: there was just as much grease back then, but the intervening years have made her grow up fast — and also changed her hair from red to white-blonde, it seems. Still, she offers a familiar grin as she starts heading towards Diaz.

For a long time it seems, Diaz is content in hanging around next to her car. She's just tall enough to have her arm rest over the roof with a bent elbow and watch the workers meander here and there, catch sight of the occasional rupture of sparks and heat as metal is cut into or grinded and anything else, smell the strong scents of ionized air and grease, work. She looks briefly to a wristwatch while now in the light and then begins to step forward. Seeing Cole's approach gets her to pause and she leans her head to the side curiously.

There's a vague sense of recognition, after all. Diaz lowers her eyebrows and squints some before awkwardly returning the grin with a smile of her own. A little longer and then she's finally remembering, knowing, so Diaz brightens up into an actual grin and holds out her arms as she returns to walking forward to meet Cole halfway. "Lady Liberty? Really? Damn, what's got you in a shithole like this? You should be off in Hollywood or something, kicking ass and taking names."

Cole gives a quiet laugh as she's recognized, nodding her head a few times in confirmation. "Hey Isa," she greets as she finishes wiping off her hands and stuffs the towel into the pocket of her coveralls. "Hollywood? Really? California would burn me like a motherfucker," she points out. Still, she can't deny this place isn't exactly where she pictured ending up, and that shows in her expression as she looks around and then offers a half-hearted shrug. "Just saving up some cash, you know? Trying to. I need to get the hell out of this state," she reveals, sounding a bit antsy when she says it. "What brings you around anyway?" She nods towards the car. "Yours or…?" Or someone else's. She certainly doesn't judge either way — it's just professional curiosity.

The woman grins and refrains from saying that as is Cole looks like something of an Orlando Bloom elf - heaven forbid one of exist - or, well, she cannot refrain for long and murmurs a quick, "Better burned than looking like you belong on Twilight, right?" It's a joke on her part and she settles into listening before giving a friendly hug. It means letting her hands hang back down at her sides soon enough and they're sent into being tucked into her front pockets with a nod of her head. "Easy way to make the money for it," Diaz makes the remark in passing as she looks around the shop: no risk, no reward, but if there is a high risk…

"Oh, making a drop off and Joey owes me. So I'm killing two birds with one stone, you know? And this," she turns in place and steps back so that she stands next to the teen, leaving Diaz to admire the Skyline. "I traded in my old Supra for it back after we first met. Heard you got tucked back into the system, too? Glad you're out- too fucking talented to let it all go to waste."

"You're damn right about that." It's their mutual friend and the owner of this auto repair shop. Joey Goterelli. Tall, dark, and not-exactly-handsome, but far better off compared to the other middle-aged men. It might be his current cheery disposition while wringing out his hands against an old rag as he walks up to the two. "I'm going to miss the runt. Better than most of these bastards."

There hasn't been a lot of hugging in the places Cole has been over the years, so she's a bit out of practice and awkward as she returns the gesture — which she follows with a playful sock to the arm. "Hey, Twilight references aren't cool, man," she says without any real upset. "Can't help that I'm pigmentally-challenged." She casts another glance around the shop herself and then shrugs. "Yeah, well, they give me plenty of work and don't ask a lot of questions." Which seems like fair deal to her, as she looks back to the Skyline. "The Supra was pretty sweet, but this is just damn sexy," she comments, pausing slightly, hesitating before addressing the matter of being sprung from the system. Hesitating just long enough for Joey to spare her from having to address it at all. "Yeah, yeah. All the sweet words in the world aren't gettin' me to stick around Jersey longer than I have to. Open a place in New York and I'll work for you 'til I die." Which probably isn't all that long, really.

Diaz looks from pigment-challenged to shower-challenged with turning around. She grins. "Yeah? Yeah, it is, you can check under the hood if you want." She just needs to walk back to the driver side of her car and open it up before popping the hood and then reaching further within for the glove compartment. She pushes aside the .357 handgun there and settles for a stack of envelopes. Checking them over, she then swings herself back out and hip-checks the door back closed before tossing the carried off towards Joey. "And look at that, I'm even twenty minutes earlier. I won't even charge extra, considering."

"Ain't no reason to, kid." Joey folds his arms over his chest when Cole brings up not asking questions. "You bring me good work and no problems. I give you good pay and no questions. I like our agreement and this is home. No way I'm leaving her behind." He doesn't elaborate on if he is talking about the shop itself or the state, and it's rather difficult to tell knowing him. He reaches up with his right hand to snag the tossed over items and he nods stiffly to Diaz before turning to whistle to a nearby worker and toss the envelopes further along. The lanky man walks them to the office that Joey had stepped out of earlier. "That brings things up to one eight if I'm not mistaken?"

When the hood is popped open, Cole moves over to take a look, still listening to the conversation as she pokes respectfully around under the hood. Her gaze lifts only briefly to follow the trail the envelopes make across the shop — she might be curious, but the no-questions-asked goes both ways… most of the time. "It's nothin' to do with our agreement. I just gotta get out of this place," Cole informs Joey, as she's no doubt informed him time and time before. For her part, she seems to mean the state more than the shop itself. "But hey, if I crash and burn out there, you know I'll be back begging for work, so you got that to look forward to," she adds, before ducking back over the engine block and leaving the two to finish their business.

"So you got a place to stay this time around when you ditch Jersey?" Diaz looks to the souped-up engine and then to Cole before giving a nod. She's turned the tuner into a powerhouse with what money she comes by, making it one of those contenders that can take on the likes of muscle and exotic cars. Speaking of, Diaz looks in the general direction of the exotic being worked over in the background before turning her attention toward Joey. "Eighteen hundred, yeah, and I'll take it in cash this time." She tightens up her expression in would-be challenge.

"All right- all right- I'll get that for you in a bit. Don't go getting all bitchy on me." Joey tells Diaz with a gruff chuckle. He brings up his right hand to stroking at his unshaven, shaggy jaw while looking at the Skyline. The man nods appreciatively just prior to turning at the sound of hefty clanging from one of the workers. "Yeah," looking forward to it already. Let me go get your money, Bella, and handle that shit. You two kids have fun." Joey thus begins walking off into the background and though happy with the ladies he barks off loud and strongly at his workers. It's his way of inspiring them.

"These are some pretty bitchin' upgrades," Cole commends as she pokes her head out from under the hood for a moment, her hands still buried in the car's innards. She ducks back under the hood a moment later, but remains in the conversation — talking while under and behind cars is a necessary artform around here. "Not really, but I don't exactly got a place to stay here either, nothing permanent, so no big loss. Know a few folks who went out that way. I'll figure something out," she replies, not sounding too worried about it. Of course, she's never actually tried to live in Manhattan as a homeless teen either. "Always do, boss," she replies in a level, almost sedate tone, as Joey bids them to have fun. Finally done poking around, she comes back around the car again, wiping her hands off on the towel. "She must fly when you open her up."

Diaz nods to Joey and watches after him leaving before inclining her head to the side and then looking more fully to Cole. She walks over to her car and the teenager in both listening and looking to her own upgrades. Hands against the frame, she leans against it with her head tucked just underneath the hood. "I haven't been in a decent drag in damn forever, but yeah. I can push over a good two hundred easy. It's fun." She's grinning to herself but she's also taking a step back in order to unhook the hood's hinges in order to swing it down and snap it closed, snug in place. She moves to the front of the vehicle and leans against it. While she watches the ongoing work, she pipes up. "I got this sixty-nine Charger too. He's a beast too. If you can keep my cars up and running I could let you crash at my place."

Cole gives an impressed low whistle, running her hand over the lines of the car. "You get this thing in a race, let me know? I'd love to see her go." She continues eyeing the car for another long moment. "Shame to see her cooped up, isn't it." She glances over the garage as well then, watching the guys work, but Diaz's offer quickly gets the teen's attention back onto her. "Really? I mean, shit, yeah, I can do that." It's like she's trying to be excited but just can't quite work up the energy for it. Still, she does seem genuinely pleased with the idea. "I told boss-man I'd finish out here, but then I got nothing holding me back."

That's probably why she's done the whole offering of a place to stay, so that she doesn't exactly have to say when she's putting her car into a race since Cole would be there already to tag along. Then again, the girl's a pretty snazzy mechanic. Diaz smirks to herself as she listens to Cole and she nods. "Yeah," she replies quietly. Her voice picks up easily enough though, at least because of the usual ruckus. "You know you're allowed to smile at that, right? I need a new roommate anyway. The last one joined the Peace Corps. How lame is that? Plus, you're good company," when she isn't tripping balls but Diaz doesn't say that much, she just looks briefly cautious, "And you really don't want to be on the streets, last I checked."

Joey's on his way back.

"Sorry, man. I'm just, um, outta practice, I guess," Cole replies about the smiling, rubbing absently at her forehead and then readjusting the bandana. She flashes a smile then, but it's clearly an effort that she quickly waves off. "But yeah, sure. A place to stay, that'd be cool. I'll keep ya company," she promises, and there's a faint but more sincere smile with that. "Better than the streets. Or, you know, some dude's couch. Those sometimes come with, like, strings attached." She leaves it at that though, what with Joey's approach.

Diaz leans over in elbowing at Cole's side. She grins, reassuringly so. It's hard for her to be serious, especially when it comes to ribbing about smiling, when she's about to get paid. Money makes the world go round and it makes this woman a distinctly happy one. So Joey is given a quick smile before she focuses on Cole. "I never dug the strings. Don't see why you need to go through them yourself. Just help out with bills when you can, the cars, and we're golden. It's all good." She trails off do to that approach of Joey's.

It's Joey's turn to toss things about and within a loaded pair of envelopes bound together with a rubber band he gives Diaz her money. He also tells one of his workers what to do with a door from the Porsche they happen to be working on. It's almost done but that just means he has to organize things more heavily just to keep the perfection his dingy little dump produces up and going at full speed. "One thousand, nine hundred dollars, and don't worry. You earned the extra. Put it towards gas or something to head on back into the city." The man also reaches into one of the pockets of his stained coveralls and produces another envelope. It's much slimmer than Diaz's. He holds it out for Cole to take. "Last pay for your last job," he explains, "But you damn well better make it a good finisher with me handing it over beforehand."

"I don't like strings either. But sometimes…" Cole trails off with a shrug, assuming the other woman knows well enough what 'but sometimes' can involve. "Cars I can do. Bills, um, I'll try. Got to find some sort of paying gig for that. I've been trying to save up, but…" But she keeps spending it; yet another sentence goes unfinished as the teen lapses into silence, watching her boss and her roommate-to-be do business. When her own envelope of cash appears, she actually brightens a bit, reaching out to snag it eagerly. "Oh good," she breathes, seeming downright relieved to see the money. "Of course, boss. Be fuckin' perfect, like always."

Diaz glances over towards Cole in beginning to nod and then directs herself forward as the incoming payment comes flying at her. She has to use both hands and her abdomen to catch it all and make certain it doesn't explode into what she assumes is twenties, fifties and hundreds. It better be a healthy variant of those three sets of dollar bills. Smug, the driver becomes. "This is going to be so fucking awesome," she tells herself. "Like, I'm going to buy, like, fuck, like," she doesn't know just yet. It'll probably go towards covering a month or two of utilities before she figures the rest can go to her car fund and excess stuff, like food. People need food nowadays. She walks it to the glove compartment.

Joey lifts his eyebrows expressively to the potential orgasm of excitement coming from Diaz before shaking his head dismissively. Women. He can't live with them and can't live without them; go figure. Joey focuses on the runt of the two, his employee, while rubbing his palms together. "You say it like you produce work that isn't fucking perfect. Damn, no respect for the boss around here," but he's being sarcastic, "Get Maria there to linger around for you and you can be out of here by tonight. Give it an hour or two, tops, all right?"

Cole actually seems amused by Diaz's money-excitement, laughing quietly to herself as she folds her own, smaller envelope and jams it away in her coveralls pocket. "My work's always perfect and I got great respect for you, boss," she replies, a bit wryly, but not exactly insincerely either — the money has helped significantly with her mood. Her spirits are buoyed even further at the idea of taking off that soon, but after a moment, she looks to Diaz and shrugs. "You don't gotta hang around if you have things to do. There's, like, busses and … things. Just give me your address and I can find it."

Diaz returns to the conversation with her hands tucked into the back pockets of her jeans. She's momentarily oblivious to everything and owlishly blinks in looking from one to the other, first Joey and then Cole. After another blink she offers a lackluster and unimpressive shrug of her shoulders. "If I can get an oil change then I'm good to go sticking around the extra. I drive a lot better than busses, and my girl smells a lot better." She pauses and looks over her shoulder to said vehicle. An oil change takes only a good fifteen or so minutes, if that. The work would probably be longer. There's a discrepancy in potential timelines. She doesn't care.

Joey shrugs. "That's all between you two and your god, bless the Lord's heart. I'm going to go wear my great badge of respect now and look like I'm doing shit around here. Back to work when you can, kid." The latter's for Cole and he begins to walk back off into the background of things. He pauses though. With a look to Diaz, he adds belatedly, "If I get another job in the city then I'll send it your way. Good luck you two." He's then walking back off to help finish up the shop's latest project.

Cole quickly realizes this discrepancy in timelines and raises her eyebrows with an expression that seems to ask 'you sure?' But then she just shrugs her shoulders, not about to argue her way out of a lift. Besides, bus tickets cost money and she'd much rather spend hers on things that are considerably more fun than mass transit. She gives Joey a faint grin, nodding her head. "Thanks, boss. I'm on it," she promises him, though she isn't quite running off to deal with the car just yet. Instead, she turns back to Diaz and her car. "One oil change, comin' up. I better get back to this though, or we'll be here all night," she points out, gesturing towards the car she'd been working on with an incline of her head. "And, uh, thanks," she adds a bit awkwardly, beginning to wander back towards the vehicle without waiting for a response.

Diaz wags her eyebrows suggestively towards the old salt of Joey at his last bits of words. She then begins producing a cell phone from one of her pockets while she lingers about in front of her car. In looking up to Cole, the young woman smiles and replies in turn. "You're welcome." She's smoothly confident about accepting thanks, even when they're awkwardly said ones, and she promptly goes to texting people while waiting for things to finish up so they can head back to the City.


Previous Log
« 2011 07 26: Lagniappe