Never Enough for a Cat [Colt]

Thinking but not muttering about his cat's antics, Helleber gave up on the new perch and set both it and his hammer aside, and dropped the nails beside both with a grimace for the taste of the metal. He pushed himself lightly to his feet then, giving little sign of his density and true weight, and turned to face the customer. Greeting someone without a shirt and with the scuffs of hammer blows to his nails was one thing; a 24/7 store didn't close long enough to do any work in its off hours. Ignoring a customer to lie on the floor, however, was quite another matter.

"Early loves everyone," Helleber replied pleasantly. It didn't bother him in the slightest that a complete stranger picked up his cat - Earl Grey was fully capable of taking care of himself, should he so desire - and when the customer moved off purposefully he held back. Locking his dull-streaked fingertips together behind him, he stretched his shoulders back, hearing one pop. He'd spent too much time on the floor as it was, trying to get the silly cat perch onto the wall.

He considered it once again. His attempts to hammer it straight into the wall hadn't even left a visible mark on the perch, thanks to the carpeting, much less the wall. He had tried starting the nails before placing the perch against the wall, but he never seemed to get the angle right. He sighed and cast a suspicious glance at the handful of other perches he had manage to stick to the walls over the years of his occupation. To a one they were looking ragged and overused, thanks to Early's frequent use of them, but they had behaved just fine when he had put them up. The only difference, other than the day he had put them up, was the height, for they ranged widely.

Helleber shook his head and dismissed the matter. He could work on it later. Right now, it was just making him stiff and sore, and sooner or later he'd miss his nails and hit a more sensitive part of his hand. As it was, his left hand was a touch sore from the repeated applications of force. He bent long enough to gather his unhelpful supplies and passed the customer on his way to the counter. "Finding everything all right?" he asked, tone drifting lightly somewhere between neutral and amiable, as the large man perused his assortment of hot dogs and pizza and corn dogs and the like. There was nothing unusual about his selection.

Nodding and leaving the customer to be, Helleber dropped his equipment on the counter with only a moderate clatter. He'd haul it upstairs later, maybe give it another go. Right now, though, it was just being frustrating. That would have to be later, though; for now, he glanced at the customer's selection and quickly punched their codes in. The customer spoke before he could announce the final price, and he paused, blinking.

"You do?" he asked, surprised; both the neighbourhood and the (presumed) distinction of human/mutant usually pushed against offers of assistance. Could there be an ulterior motive? So long as the customer paid before he went to get the tool, that wouldn't be an issue, and Helleber didn't exactly bar people from entering with tools to begin with - and a power drill wasn't really the weapon of choice for armed robbers. He glanced at the new perch and the spot on the wall he wanted it to go. "That would be great, actually," he said after his moment of consideration.

He absently fluffed Earl Grey's neck before sorting out the change due. "Don't worry, he finds the people more interesting than their food." He pushed the change across the counter, spread out so that it could be readily counted and confirmed. He paused then, unsure if the customer would actually go and return with the power drill as offered or not. If not, it wouldn't really bother him; people fell through on polite offerings all the time. They might offer out of habit or have been taught to be nice, but they rarely actually meant it. If the customer now was one such, so be it; it really wouldn't bother Helleber.

Finished with the change, Helleber lowered his head to focus on putting his copy of the receipt away. He didn't really want to see if the man came back or not. He carefully tucked the receipt into place with the rest of the day's slips, taking his time to concentrate on getting it to lie neatly with the others before he lowered the bar that held them all down. Satisfied, he glanced around the store just as the door bell stopped ringing.

The customer was gone. Very well. He moved to scratch Early behind the ears, only to notice the cat was still sniffing absently at the burgers the customer had just bought and paid for. He blinked and looked out the windows. Huh. He was coming back. Helleber shrugged slightly and messed up his cat's head fur. "Wood screws?" he asked, a little blankly. "I just have screws," he said awkwardly, reaching over to grab some of the ones he had been using and display them to the customer/helper.

For all his attempts at making things for his cat, Helleber was not particularly handy. Sure, part of it stemmed from the lack of sensitivity in his fingers (though that did come with increased resistance to paper cuts and, as recently demonstrated, misplaced hammer blows), but mostly he didn't have the experience. He grew up in foster care, not some reno-crazy household. What he knew now, he had gleaned and improvised for himself. "The guy at the store told me that these would work, but I haven't the least idea if they actually should." The reason for that ought to be obvious; Helleber was, after all, not the sort of visible mutant who could wear a little bulky clothing and hide what he was.

((Naw, you're fine))

Helleber watched attentively as the customer-helper did some fancy-looking things with his power drill. When his cat began to amble across the counter towards the man, he distractedly reached over and hauled the cat back, lifting the big grey cat with one hand and sprawling him across his own shoulders. Early wriggled for a moment, then began flicking his tail in Helleber's face and purring, despite the seeming contradiction of mood.

"Go ahead," he said quickly, still watching closely, with regards to permission to actually work with the perch. He slipped out from behind the desk and followed the man across the store; he wanted a good view of what was going on. He certainly looked like he knew what he was doing! Helleber nodded to himself with each tap; that was one of the little things he had managed to pick up. He stepped smoothly out of the way as the customer returned to the desk, and then moved closer to examine the wall, Earl Grey still stretched across his shoulders. Messing up his feathers, undoubtedly, but out of the way.

"Would you really?" he asked wistfully, and then gave himself a brief shake. "I try to do what I can for Early, but I never really had the opportunity to learn." His shrug earned a muttered meow and enough tail fur in Helleber's nose to make him sneeze. Unfortunately for him, that was when the perch was installed, and he missed it entirely, straightening with a renewed bout of purring in one ear and seeing the man just finishing. "I would appreciate it if you could show me a thing or two," he said politely.

Helleber mentally compared his tool assortment to that range suggested. It didn't do so well. He had a couple of screwdrivers, formerly shiny and new but a bit battered and scratched if he had tried to use them or Early had come across them. None of them were powered. He wasn't sure if he could afford one, even if he lived simply; the one the man had looked quite fancy, and apparently required a great number of additional things.

Now, the what of how the perch had gone up so easily would be important. He caught Early's tail between his thumb and forefinger to keep it out of his face. Level and straight? All right. That made sense. His ears flicked, each independently, to catch the full resonance of the tapping, and he nodded. After batting at one of his ears, Early heaved himself to his feet, walked the short distance to the edge of Helleber's left shoulder, and sprang onto one of the old perches. He gathered his feet beneath him and wrapped his tail around all four.

"A level?" Helleber tried to think if he had one lying around anywhere. "That's the bar with the little bubble in the tube, right?" Hm. He didn't think he had one. Shoot. Pencils, though, those he did have. He actually sold them, though not very many and not a wide range. He did try to have a bit of everything. He listened carefully; the trick of drilling a guide-hole did make a great deal of sense. "Magnets would certainly make it easier," he said drily. He didn't want to think of the number of times he had had a screw fall off his screwdriver. Yes, everything did make sense. "Yes," he replied. "Thank you; I think that will help a great deal." He tilted his head slightly, considering the man. "I take it you've done a great deal of this?"

Helleber maintained his polite smile as the customer-helper spoke. He hadn't the slightest clue what interior weight placement was or how you were supposed to mount a tv. He also wasn't overly inclined to learned about either right now - they didn't seem very useful. Helleber had a tv, yes, but it was really quite old and had been acquired solely to watch movies on - and most of those movies weren't exactly in the most recent format, so he didn't need some fancy expensive thing to play them on!

He did take the man's card, however; you never knew what connection or name or number might be helpful in the future. Unlike interior weight placement. "Jacob?" he repeated. He certainly understood naming one's business after oneself - come on, his store was Deermart, and he wasn't a wolf or cougar or anything silly like that. Vehicle car. Well, that might not be overly helpful for Helleber himself, being less than suited to driving (his hooves just didn't bend quite right, so he'd never gotten hooked on vehicles enough to buy one) but he'd put the card under the clear coating of the counter in case a customer was looking for such a place. He tucked the card above one ear and extended his hand. "I'll drop by if I can think of a reason," he said amiably, "And if not, well, I'll still keep the card where other customers can see it. By the way, the name's Helleber Kinlan,"