Helleber lifted an elbow in farewell as the last of his daytime employees headed out. There was little more he could have done, no matter how amiable a mood he happened to be in. He was busy, and he had a far harder taskmaster than his own employees did.

He had a cat.

The cat was, of course, his own, the chunky grey stray who had wandered in through an open window to play with Helleber's antlers. At the moment, Helleber did not have antlers and it wasn't really warm enough to leave windows open. Besides, he really preferred Earl Grey to stay indoors. It was far safer for him, no matter how long he had survived as a stray in this very neighbourhood.

Early was crouched on one of his older perches, watching his supposed owner avidly. Helleber was stretched out on the floor, perpendicular to the window facing the main street, and had a mouth full of nails in his attempt to satisfy his only pet. One hand held a hammer, and tapped insistently on a nail precariously held at a precise angle on the underside of a block of laboriously carpeted wood; he had to hold both the block and the nail steady with one hand in order to actually hit it.

He swung the hammer, hoping that this strike would actually get the head of the nail at the right angle and shove it through the wood and into the wall. Somewhere between beginning the swing and ending it, four distinct feet plopped onto the small of his back, between his slightly spread wings and above the slight swell of his tail coverts, and then dug in with a few dozen pinpricks as Early sprang off Helleber's lightly furred back and onto the foot of a new customer, twining himself delightedly around the new plaything's ankles.

Jacob didn’t really care for the Brooklyn side of the Big Apple. The people here always seemed territorial… and his car, as much as he loved it, drew a lot of attention, and some of that, was very unwanted attention. He could defend himself and his vehicle, but he needed to get something to eat. He had skipped over lunch dealing with a merchant down the road about the last few parts he needed for his completely new type of pistol, and his stomach churned and growled with fierce intensity. He had definitely gotten soft as far as his eating habits, having a full three meals a day since he been out of the hustle and bustle of the Army. He couldn’t count how many meals he had skipped dealing with soldiers and missions, but now that he was out, his body relied on his intake to be regular.

As he entered the small convenience store, he was almost immediately assailed by a small feline. Instinctively, as he liked cats, he bent over and petted the gray cat behind the ears, as he knew they liked. He wondered, for a moment, why he hadn’t decided to get a pet, but then recalled the amount of time he spent out of the shop or working in the shop, and not in his home. He couldn’t provide the attention that he would have wanted to a member of the canine or feline race, and thus, wouldn’t get a pet that would wind up getting neglected. The person who was running the store was interesting, and he took a whole second to take all of him in before speaking. “Hello Sir. Your cat seems to like me.”

Without any more hesitation, and seeing that the cat wasn’t going to keep him from tripping over him, he reached down and scooped up the cat carefully. “Don’t want to step on you little guy,” he said to the cat. He moved slowly to the area where the hot dogs and other warm food was stored, and then set the cat down, looking to see what the options were.

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.

“Yes sir… just trying to decide.” Jacob looked at the different types of hot food… hot dogs, some weird thing they called a ‘Tornado’… some kind of meet wrapped in a tortilla or something… and pre-made hamburgers. Nothing really sounded great, but he didn’t really care at the moment… he was just plain hungry, so he grabbed a pair of hamburgers, and then carefully moved towards the drinks. He had to be careful because the cat was insistent that he would get tripped, and there was more than once that he would have if not for a careful pause. Standing by the drinks, he looked at all the soda, and fished out a Chocolate Milk from the side fridge, still loving the drink since he was very young.

Moving to the register, he set his items of the counter, and took the time it was taking to ring up the food to look at the project. The man loved his cat, he could tell, but looking at the age on some of the perches, he wondered how long the cat had been alive. Wasn’t his business, but he decided to see if he could lend a hand. “You know… I have a power-drill in the car. I could give you a hand real quick with that cat perch if you wanted.” It was a simple, friendly offer, one that could easily be declined if it would put a tarnish on the man’s pride or if he was a strict do-it-your-selfer. Either way was fine, but it looked like he was struggling when he walked in, and Jacob never would let a man struggle when he knew a better way without at least offering to help.

The cat reemerged on the counter, having hopped up after him, and sniffing the food. “No no, Early… I gotta eat that.” He didn’t make any movements towards the cat, which he assumed was normal. He hadn’t heard of any mutants that started as cats, or vice versa, but he wasn’t about to take the chance of trying to move him and the owner getting upset. After the food was rung up, he handed him a $20, and waited for his change, as well as an answer to his question.

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.

After Jacob received his change, he quickly scooped it into his front pocket, and fished out a pair of keys on a keyring. Leaving the food on the counter for a moment, he would bear with the hunger just a few minutes more, and he moved out to his trunk, grabbing the drill from its compartment, and grabbing the rechargeable battery out of the dock that was mounted in the trunk. It came together with a satisfying click, and he reached and grabbed a small case next to it, popping it open and grabbing a small drill bit. He didn’t have any wood screws, but this would work for getting it started, and he grabbed a reversible screwdriver bit just in case the store’s owner had the wood screws he needed.

Coming back in, he looked to where the perch was meant to be placed, and returned to the counter. “Do you have any wood-screws, Sir?” he asked politely. He set the drill on the counter, and took a spare moment to pause, unwrap a burger, and take a rather large bite of it. It was rather generic… needed ketchup or something, but he wasn’t complaining… he was just plain hungry. He gave the man a moment to consider his options, and Jacob had no problem giving him a hand, just didn’t want to take away from his project, or the self credit he would receive, even if he did have help. He did, however decide that it was time to pet the cat, and did so.

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.

Jacob took another bite of the burger, and eyed the spot where he had been trying to put the perch, considering it a moment. He then turned back, took a swig of his chocolate milk, and grabbed his power drill. With practiced precision, he slipped the drill bit into the open end, grabbed the forward assist, and tightened the bit into the drill. He gave it a few jolts of the trigger to ensure it was in place, and grabbed the perch. “May I?” Once he had been given permission, he brought the perch to the wall, and began tapping in the area where he wanted to place it. The hollow thunks sounded and he kept moving until the thunk was more solid, indicating that it was a solid piece of wood instead of just drywall. Once he found the right spot, he lined it up so that it was level, and drilled a pair of holes that would support it.

Moving back to the counter, he loosened the drill bit out of the drill, and put the small piece of metal in his pocket, and grabbed the screwdriver bit, using the cross-tip that the screws needed, placing it in the drill and tightening it down. “You know… if you don’t know how to do all this, I can show you what I know so you can do this yourself next time, Sir.” It was a simple offer, and if he wanted to know, Jacob would teach him, but for now, he merely moved back to the project wall, put the perch so it lined up with the holes he drilled, and used the magnetized screwdriver tip to keep the screw on it. With a few practiced zips of his electric drill, the screws were in place, and the perch completely mounted. Jacob had made it look easy, but he knew that was only because he had done little things like that for a long time.

(If I need to edit, please let me know)

((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.

Jacob had finished this perch, but he could easily replay it virtually and explain each step. “First thing, you have to have the right tools. An electric drill of any kind is very good for this stuff, but you need to have a drill bit set as well.” He reached into his pocket, grabbing the drill bit he had used. “You put a small hole, level and straight, through both the mounted object, and the wall, where there is a two by four behind it.” He made the tapping motion again, tapping a hollow spot first, “that’s just drywall, and can’t support much weight,” and he moved it over to where the tap was solid, “and there is the two by four.” He then took a moment to make another note.

“You of course want the perch to be level, and it helps to have a level unless you are really good at eyeballing it. You can buy a level, as well as the drill, at any hardware store. Marking it with a pencil helps too.” He paused, letting that sink in, and then turned back towards the finished project. “The drilled hole keeps the screw from twisting or going sideways, guiding it in, but the hole has to be smaller than the screw, or the grooves won’t hold onto the wood. Once you get all lined up, you put the perch up there, use the magnetic tip of the screwdriver bit that comes with most drills,” he mentioned, holding up his power drill and showing him the bit that was in it, “and then you drill the screw into the pre-set holes. Simple as that.” It was easy to tell that Jacob had done this kind of stuff… a lot. He took a step back, and looked towards the man. “Does all that make sense, Sir?”

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?"

Jacob smiled and gave him a quick “yes Sir,” to confirm that the object he was describing was indeed a level. After the explanation, and the request for questions, he looked like he understood the concept at the minimum, and was grateful for the help. Jacob smiled and said, “No problem Sir. I like to help when I can.” He then asked Jacob if he had done projects like this a lot, and he shook his head side to side. “Not really, but my Mom is into engineering, and they use the same principles a lot that we used for this project. She taught me a lot about that kind of thing, and I had to learn to apply it to interior weight placement when I mounted a television in my Break Room at my shop.” Never one to turn down the opportunity for a new customer, he reached to an inside pocket on his leather jacket and fished out a card.

Jacob’s Junkyard and Shop
Total Vehicle Care, Parts, Towing and Restorations
1223 Ringwood Ave
Haskell, NJ 07420

“It’s a stone’s throw from the edge of the city,” he said, confident that it was just close enough to get business but far enough away to avoid the problems that were associated with New York City. He loved the city in some way, because it was always changing and never dull, but he hated it too because there were just too many people with not enough to do. Idle hands usually wound up in trouble… Regardless, Jacob handed him the card, and then went back to the counter, and began to eat his burger again with gusto. He wasn’t on a date, thus, he wasn’t really worried about having his mouth full.

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,"

“Jacob Corbulo,” he said, offering his hand to shake after swallowing the bite he took and setting his burger down, only for a moment. He made a mental note to stop in here more often… if he was ever in Brooklyn. Chances were that he would be, though… he would always be traveling through the city and getting the best prices for different parts that he couldn’t acquire through other means. He had a lot of cars in his junkyard, but lately he had found less and less parts that were needed. He needed to start buying more cars from the ‘totaled lot’. A simple enough place, when people wrecked and totaled their cars, they generally didn’t want to keep the wrecked vehicle. What he needed to do was get on the list for the insurance agencies and place his business out to them. They would then make the referral.

He took the final bite of his burger, and took another drink of the chocolate milk. “If you ever need any help with anything mechanical, don’t hesitate to give me a call, even if all you need is a little advice. Working on cars is my business, but fixing things is what I like to do.” That being said, he scooped up his other burger and the half-empty chocolate milk, and prepared mentally to make his way out, unless the man did have something else for him while he was here. His shop, as well as his home, was on the opposite side of the city.

"Helleber Kinlan," he replied, but hesitated slightly before setting his jaw slightly and shaking Jacob's hand. Physical contact might be entirely polite and well-meant, but it still served to highlight some of the details of his mutation a little too closely for his comfort. Then again, if it didn't bother Jacob, then perhaps he would be a decent sort of repeat customer.

"I'll keep that in mind," Helleber said with a slight tilt of his head in thanks. "As you can tell, I do have a lot to learn." He shook his head gently, holding the card steady with the ear it was tucked behind, and then slowly raised a hand to his chin in thought. "Actually, if it's not too much trouble..." he began slowly, "Part of the pop dispenser hasn't been working right for a while. Whenever I try to run that line, it sounds like it's working, but I only get a few drops out of the nozzle - the rest must leak out the back somewhere, because it certainly isn't empty, but I just can't find it." He shrugged.

"I don't suppose you have any ideas, at least, as to what's going on? It confounds me, and it's out of warranty. Whatever happened, it was probably Early's fault anyway, so the manufacturer probably wouldn't be of much help anyway," he added drily. Earl Grey meowed cheerfully and trotted over to rub against Helleber's leg, using the nearest hock to scratch himself behind the ear. "And you aren't even the slightest bit sorry for your antics, are you?" Helleber grumbled at his cat.