He could tell from his very obvious reaction that the man thought he had just found an untapped gold mine, and while he considered himself highly in his adaptability and diversity in his power and skills, he didn’t understand one aspect. Was he trying to hire him? Because that wasn’t going to work so well. Granted, he would help out once in a while, but he was not trying to fall under the man’s wing. He had his own priorities to work out, and nothing was going to stand in the way of the things he needs to get done… But regardless, he would see where this led for now, and address that in a moment.

“To be put simply, if it has moving parts, I can mess with it. I can’t really mess with electronics too much aside cooling fans and such simply because electrical current is not a mechanical physical function… and to be honest…” he paused for a moment, his expression becoming grim for a moment, “my family is none of your concern.” And that was the end of that. He protected his family at all costs, as they were the most important people in the world to him… and he didn’t let anyone he didn’t know VERY well even know their names… this guy wasn’t getting jack nor squat. Regardless, as he recalled what the man said, he addressed another concern of his.

“I will let you know as well, I will not ‘repossess’ from anyone who is less fortunate than myself… regardless of the law.” He let that information sink in… he was in the middle-class of the American ranks of civilian life, but he wouldn’t take from someone who was sitting there struggling to survive regardless if they owed the banks. No one should have their only vehicle taken if they are trying to make payments and using it to get to the job that provides for their families… he knew good guys that had exactly that happen. He had no problem handling the idjits that didn’t pay for things and had mansions, however.

And then, he wanted to address his final, but no less important concern. “Lastly, I am not going to be on your payroll. I don’t mind a one time job here and there, but I have my own business to run and my own taskings to complete… I hope you understand I won’t always be able to help.” That said, he settled back into his chair, and let the man respond.

Harlan paused and pretended to consider for a bit. Gosh, this decision was so difficult. Oh my God, whatever shall I do? Such compromise!

He then waved his hand, dismissing the whole thing and simply said: "Totally acceptable."

He never intended to have Jacob on the payroll. There was no way he could pay him more than what he made on his car shop, with a mutation like the one he had, and repossessing from the less fortunate? That's not where the money was. Why use a wonderful mutant talent to do something that a guy who never finished high school could do just as well? No, no... there were cases and there were cases, some more difficult than others, and he had no intention to drag Jacob to pull stuff off his own crew could do with ease. But when his crew had it difficult, then it was 'bring in the mutants' time.

Still, pretending he was conceding when he really wasn't was typical business practice and Jacob probably saw through it, being in charge of a business himself and probably used to the tactic.

Now, regarding his family, this was another nugget of information left to guesswork, and Harlan's first guess was that Jacob's reaction was protective. Ergo, he didn't want his family to be exposed, ergo, he loved them or cared for them, ergo, this was a man who probably had been raised with morals or loyalty and cared about others, therefore... don't hand him anything that remotely seems like he's screwing over some innocent fellow. In Harlan's business, sometimes he worked for the good guys while others it was pretty difficult to tell the good guys from the bad guys. Add to the fact Jacob wasn't interested in hurting the less fortunate and Harlan got a clear picture of what he could get away with and what he couldn't.

"So, I take it locks are game if they're simple enough instead of electronic. How about guns? They have moving parts and zero power except for a bullet and a finger. Can you lock a gun and force it not to fire? Force a grenade not to explode? Can you imagine the possibilities in a hostage situation? This even goes out of my range of expertise..." he said as his brain was quickly analyzing multiple scenarios. "You said you can sense machines. If I gave you a tiny device to 'sense' and get used to, then slipped it in a suspect's pocket, could you track the suspect by sensing the device? A cellphone might be too electronic, but how about watches? Could you tell where people are by sensing their wrist watches, even tell their numbers?"

A barrage of questions indeed, but if they were going to work together, it was very convenient to know the man's limitations, lest he find out mid-case that Jacob couldn't lock a gun when one was being aimed at them.

Jacob could easily see right through the façade of playing like he was taking the consideration seriously… but, to the man’s credit, he wasn’t really trying to lie or play Jacob for a fool, just more or less a running joke. To that extent, the mechanic smirked slightly when he spoke. What he also realized is that he must have really used Jacob’s help in the past. So, he sat back and listened, noting each particular shell in the barrage of questions, and guessed that this conversation was likely to stay in this general line… he would assault with questions, and once they were answered, more would come, until either Jacob got irritated, or the man ran out of questions… and Jacob had a very high tolerance before he got aggravated unless you disrespected him.

“You misunderstand. Unless they’re not using any mechanical function at all, like magnets, I can open any lock… I just can’t guarantee that the alarm system won’t pick it up. I can stop firearms easily, but I can only mess with two objects at a time. Yes I can stop grenades, and I realize the potential in dealing with EOD and the like. But I have dealt with too many explosives in my time… and don’t really like those unless I have to. And yes, I can track anything I can familiarize myself with, particularly if I can meld with it… for up to a mile. I don’t have to in order to track it, but I have tracked people using their cell phones, pocketknives and watches before.”

Now he would wait for the next onslaught of questions, but while he waited, he did move to the kitchen again, pouring himself another glass of milk, and grabbing a tupperware from the fridge as well. Popping the lid to the container, he laid it back on top and placed it into the microwave, the lid staggered so it would keep any mess from his microwave as well as not make it explode from being sealed. He still had line of sight on Harlan, however, and was more than ready to continue the conversation.

“Please, continue… I’m just warming up some Bratwursts I cooked on the grill the other night. You are welcome to have some if you want… there is plenty.” He automatically fished out two plates to put them on once they were done warming back up, one for himself and one for Harlan, just in case he did take him up on his offer.

Jacob had opened up and was being quite informative regarding his capabilities, as long as the questions weren't too intrusive. It seemed he also recognized the need for knowledge between each others talents and in this regard, Harlan had been lacking, which he intended to amend soon.

The moment Jacob went to the kitchen, Harlan pulled his phone out, typed "EOD" on Google and got "Explosive Ordnance Disposal". His mechanic had admitted 'having dealt with too many explosives in his time' which made Harlan think the guy either had a military past or used to be bomb squad. His haircut however, was making him lean towards the former. The detective quickly stashed his phone away before his host thought he was distracted or not paying attention.

When offered food, he was quick to say "Don't mind if I do" as he picked up his glass of juice and finished it up, but instead of standing up to put the glass back on the sink, Harlan simply popped his hands off and let them float away, carrying the glass across the room towards the kitchen in one of them.

"You've been quite open with me, so I figure I can be open with you" he said, as his hands now twisted the faucet open and washed the glass while the rest of his body still sat on the chair. Whether he was doing a good job or not was debatable, since he was overlooking his hands from a distance. "When I had this little... incident happen to me, I was quite distressed and depressed for some time. Years even. But once I learnt the things I could do, I realized they were quite the asset in my father's line of work, which is now mine as well. I can reach places others simply can't, be it to take pictures, video or whatever, including washing glasses and waiting for Bratwursts" he said as one of his hands returned to his wrists, while the other drummed it's fingers on the kitchen table, expecting the ding! from the microwave to go off any second.

Knowing now that Jacob had a military or law enforcement background made it even easier for him to talk about weapons, where an ordinary civilian would probably feel all fidgety about.

"Being able to stop firearms is a great asset to have, but handling two at a time is a limitation very important to always keep in mind" he said. "Being able to meld with a device for up to a mile however, is priceless. Are there any size limits? Big machines, small machines? What happens if a machine gets destroyed while you were controlling it? Any backlash or pain? Can you remotely damage a machine? I know you said you can fix them, but I assume you need to be real close to do that. Can you control a machine even if a person is trying to control it back? Would it be a test of strength or do you always win in such a scenario?"

Second barrage... awaaaay!

Jacob noticed that the man had pulled out his phone, but he wondered for a moment what he was doing, but decided he didn’t need to pry too much. He pondered it a moment more, replaying what he said… and realized that he was talking to a civilian that didn’t understand military lingo. EOD, explosive ordinance disposal… simple enough to him, would confuse the crap out of someone who didn’t know anything about the Army. Still, he knew that he had barely given the shallowest glimpse into the true potential of his abilities… and he wasn’t even referring to the mutant ones.

He accepted the food offer rather quickly, leading Jacob to believe that he was hungry, or didn’t want to be ‘rude’, as some people considered it rude to refuse an offering like that. Still, he did watch for a moment as the hand moved towards the sink, and although clumsy, he was impressed by it. “So, when your limbs are detached, they are no longer effected by gravity? Can you change their altitude or anything like that, like flying so to speak?” The man had been hitting him with a lot of questions; it was only fair for him to hit the man with a few of his own.

He did consider what the man said, and he did notice that the mention of the ‘little… incident’ looked to be as though it was a painful memory. He knew too many people with haunting stories and memories with similar reactions not to recognize it almost immediately. Jacob’s microwave powered down, having removed the awful dinging noise, and he popped it open, the smell of the brats wafting into the room. A trio of buns on both plates, and then brats in them, he sealed the container again and set it on the counter so he could simply grab more if he was still hungry. He brought them over, setting the plates on the end table within easy reach, more or less, and moved back to the kitchen real fast, grabbing the ketchup, mustard, and sweet relish in case he wanted them. Jacob himself loved the taste of the bratwursts enough he didn’t need condiments, but who was to say that Harlan didn’t want them.

The second barrage of questions hit as he sat down, which was good, considering that he hadn’t yet taken a bite, and was able to answer. “First off, there are several ways I can simply jam a weapon if there are more than two. I don’t have any size limit that I know of, I have done it with a M1 Abrams. Haven’t tried anything smaller than a pocket watch, and I haven’t had any issues with pain, but I haven’t tested that theory either. I can’t fix or damage anything unless I touch it. And if I have control of something, the operator isn’t going to be able to do anything but sit and watch.”

He decided to through in one more nugget as well. “But to be honest, my best skills came from being in the Army for 8 years, not any mutation.”

"Altitude, latitude, longitude, you name it" he said as the smell of the bratwursts really pulled a number on his stomach acids. He wasn't that hungry when he came in, but good food always managed to bring the meat eater in him. "I can fly them or float them up to 2000 feet last time I checked. It's an excellent and easy way to do things at a distance while keeping my body safe" he added, well aware that trust and good information worked both ways.

By the time Jacob came back with the condiments, Harlan had already taken the first bite, but he was soon squirting ketchup and mustard over his meal in a zig zag motion.

"My head can pull the same trick too. I noticed you noticed I had these on my neck as well" he said, as his floating hand had flown back and now waved its fingers next to his throat while the stuck one was adding relish on the bratwurst. "My body is still connected in a way through these blueish things you see here" he said, turning his hand so the back of his wrists was visible, but he only allowed a quick glimpse. If Jacob looked long enough past the blue glow, he might notice the cut meat and bone and they were eating. It's not exactly the sort of thing you show while having food.

His host kept answering his questions, now mentioning he had controlled an M1 Abrams and then confirming what Harlan suspected. The man had been in the Army for eight years. A bona fide trained soldier was much better to take out on a case than an unexperienced civilian. In fact, if it came to that, Harlan himself would be the unexperienced civilian. Most of his training had been on the job, he'd learnt how to fire a gun and practiced with it at a shooter range, but the times he had been forced to use it for real had been few and far in between.

"So I take it you've dealt with your share of violence. I have as well, but I figure nowhere near as much. Where were you deployed? Your mutation must have come in quite handy in the field. Did your superiors ever find out if you were a mutant?"

And once again... he was asking personal questions, but this time they were work related and not family related. Harlan was quickly learning where he could tread and where he could not.

Jacob listened carefully as he described his general limitations, and pondered something else, but it would have gotten a little bit awkward if he had asked if he would still knock out if he performed a rear naked choke while his head was detached. 2000 feet was a long range too… you could do quite a bit with an ability like that, and it was very diverse. The fact that he would be able to have his head float around was a bit creepy, but excellent for spying and the lot. Jacob looked carefully at the odd terminals that connected his body to his limbs, and noticed something else with it, but couldn’t be certain as his view of it was cut short. Something sensitive, he supposed.

Jacob had a slightly haunted look come over his eyes and his eyes alone as he asked about his deployments… it was a fair question, but there were a great many ghosts haunting those memories. He remained calm and collected, but if you knew what a haunted look in a person’s eyes were, you would see that Jacob certainly had it now. “Four years… three in Afghanistan, one in Iraq. And no, my superiors never knew.” A very simple question, and not one he would delve into unless he had to.

Jacob’s mind flashed, for a mere moment, back to when the main incident with that one Daisy Chain IED went off and took out the lead vehicle. The lead truck, Hammer four seven, had gotten away from the convoy a bit… by the time that Jacob’s senses had picked up the trap, it had been too late… all five personnel in the vehicle had been reduced to ribbons, the artillery shells that had been buried in the trap reducing the armor of the vehicle to smoldering slag. The memory faded as he distinctly smell the smoke and burning flesh… he just thanked that it had been quick and painless.

The only reaction on Jacob was a very slight twitch as he remembered the force of the explosion rattling his own truck.

Jacob was not... and expressive man, so to speak. It was clear he kept many things to himself and his face was not one to show too much emotion. There was a twitch however and it made Harlan think he had touched an exposed nerve. Should he continue going down this path? Would it benefit him in any way to know these details? Would it benefit Jacob to talk about them?

Harlan was no psychologist, though he had read books on the subject and he knew talking about things helped relieve the mind from carrying terrible weights on your conscience, but... the problem was Harlan wouldn't know what to say back, like a professional psychologist would. He'd probably go 'hmm' but have absolutely nothing remotely similar in his entire life to share, compared to a military man deployed in Afghanistan and Irak. He couldn't go all 'I know what you're feeling' because he really didn't have a clue.

Then again, he did have his very own harrowing experience. He kept it in for months after it happened until he talked about it with his father and just getting it out of his chest made him feel relieved afterwards. Maybe pricking directly about it was not the right way to go. Maybe he could be the first to breach an uncomfortable topic in his life, so Jacob may feel inclined to do so as well, and if he didn't, hey, he didn't have to.

"I usually keep my clients in the dark regarding my mutation. While useful, it can be distressing to see for some and keeping it under a lid helps me figure out if my clients are haters or not beforehand" he said, grabbing a big bite out of his food, chewing and swallowing. "Those who know, I usually tell them I can 'split' my hands and head at will, but... that's a bit of an exaggeration."

Harlan was an actor. He could pretend to feel things he wasn't feeling at a whim, he knew where to look, how to change his facial expression and how to make them seem real, but over this topic he didn't really need to act. It was a traumatic experience and remembering it always brought the same disturbed expression to his face.

He had been victimized. He had been completely helpless about it. He thought... no, he KNEW he was going to die and the two men were laughing about it. Maybe sharing this was too much too soon? No, he had already started, might as well tell it all but keep it short.

"I can't do it at will. These cuts were forced upon me and they can never be closed again. I was beaten, tortured and strung, so my tormentor could prove to his goon how he could slice two hands with one stroke of a sword."

He said it quickly so he wouldn't have time to embellish it, though the temptation to do so was there. He always tried to make himself look like less of a victim when he told it.

"I didn't know I was a mutant back then. I was just 23 at the time, with my whole life ahead of me and I was sure I was going to die..."

He then remembered how his dreams of being an actor evaporated that day. Who would want to see movies with a mutant as the star? He'd never be able to hide his condition, wih the sort of press and scenes actors get. They'd only use him for the freaky roles. 'Beheaded guy No. 2' and all that.

"...and in a way, I did" he added as he bit down on his bratwurst again.

Jacob listened carefully as the man began to speak, regarding his own mutation, and Jacob could see that the man was hitting a very sensitive subject, so Jacob did nothing more than open his ears and give the man his full, undivided attention. He then began to go into how he discovered he was a mutant, and realized that the man was not unlike some of the soldiers he had… he had been wounded, and more so, figuratively killed, saved by his mutation. He knew dozens of people with similar experiences, but nothing that reached to this degree of pain and what was likely absolute horror. Still, as a man, he wouldn’t try to pity the poor soul, he would respect that he had survived through the pain and was trusting Jacob with the invaluable information he was receiving.

But he too, did realize what it was that Harlan was doing.

He was doing exactly what Jacob would do if he was trying to get someone to open up to him, something he had done countless times when a soldier under him or one of his peers had a traumatic experience and was trying to seal themselves off. He would share one of his dozens of experiences, usually one similar to the person’s own, to get them to share it and feel better. In this case, he was trying to understand Jacob better, or so he thought, and get him to unload his burden and allow them to bond a bit better. He could respect that, but Jacob had already been through all the counseling and therapy he needed. His parents were the best therapists that a man could ever want, calm, understanding and able to listen without questioning or persecution. That, and he had one more thing, something he could share with Harlan.

Jacob nodded as the man finished his story. “Anyone who has an experience like that dies just a little bit. Your resilience, the ability to bounce back from that, is what makes a person strong.” Jacob stood up and moved to his room, out of sight of his guest for a moment. A small safe that was cleverly hidden into the wall and with no normal means of opening clicked and whirred slightly as the locks disengaged, and swung open. Carefully, he pulled out a thumb drive that was sitting on top of a large green book. He had a digital copy of his journal, which was properly censored and didn’t have any secret information, on it, and he used his ability to lock the safe again, and reentered the room where Harlan was waiting.

“If you truly want to learn more about me, this is where to start. I have certain things… missing… in this copy, things that either are sensitive to the government or things I think no one else should know, but the documents in that file cover my entire military career and a short time after that.” He moved over to Harlan and presented the thumb drive for him to take.

“The documents are locked, so you can’t edit or copy them, but you can read them when you find some time if you want to know at least some of what I have done and seen. Your eyes only. I’m trusting you a bit with this, so please don’t give me a reason to doubt you.”

He was completely serious about that… once you burned the trust from a guy like him, it was very close to impossible to earn it back. Integrity, the ability to do and say what was right and true, regardless of the situation, was one of the most important values a man could ever have.

>> “Anyone who has an experience like that dies just a little bit. Your resilience, the ability to bounce back from that, is what makes a person strong.”

"It is" Harlan replied, realizing his 'opening up' approach did not immediately pan out the desired results, but still appreciating the words coming his way. Jacob was not new to this game at all and whatever he gave away was a carefully planned move. For a moment, Harlan thought that was all he was going to get from the man, but then Jacob walked off into a room and returned with a flash drive which he dropped on Harlan's hands.

It was a small gadget really, but it weighed heavily on his hand. Not so much the plastic, but the trust and responsibility he felt the ex-soldier turned mechanic was placing on him. Harlan was a private eye, so he knew how to keep secrets and handle personal information, but the more he knew from someone, the better he was at predicting what to expect from them and this was very valuable information.

Harlan had no reason or desire to break the man's trust. His smartphone didn't have a USB port or he would have read it right then and there, so he simply stashed it in his pocket and nodded as he replied.

"Thank you" he said, giving one last bite to his meal, then wolfing it down. "I'll have it returned to you tomorrow morning. This will help me decide what I can drop on your lap and what not. I'd save you for things me or my staff can't pull off on our own, preferably something worth your while" he said as he started to get up from his chair.

"Just so you know, the door opens both ways. You have my card and if you ever need my services, feel free to call. You'll get a discount" he offered as he readied himself to leave.

"Thanks for the meal as well."

Jacob smirked as the man scarffed down the food after receiving the flash drive. He was an information craver, if Jacob had ever seen one. A person who constantly wanted to know more, worked really well when pursuing the school route of life, but perhaps was pretty good in match with a private eye as well. Jacob quickly grabbed the dish that he had used, putting it in the sink to be washed after he had walked his guest out. He moved with the man, following behind him and locking the doors. “Don’t think I forgot about your car… I’ll give you a onetime ‘quick-fix’, but you better refer anyone needing some vehicle care my way, you hear?” He was back to being the mechanic and not the soldier, for now.

Walking over to the car, he did a once-over of the small parking lot that he knew he was going to have to expand pretty soon. Not seeing any spectators, he placed his hand on the car, his skin actually absorbing the color and texture of the vehicle’s exterior about five millimeters from the contact. Metal groaned for a moment, then popped, and there was a bit of clunking under the hood, and he released it. “There you go, should be in pretty good shape now. You might want to bring it in sometime to get your fuel tank looked at though… it’s got quite a bit of rust, and it’s going to start leaking pretty soon if you don’t hit it with a coat of Rhino-lining or something.” He then gave the man a cheshire grin. “Can’t give it all to you for free… but I’ll see what I can do about getting you a discount. Just don’t be a stranger, you hear?” He was going to hold him to his promise to return that thumb drive, or Jacob, the soldier, would hunt him down for it, as simple as that.

Watching the man work was quite impressive. You'd think he'd at least get his hands dirty, but no, he approached the vehicle, somehow sucked in the color of the car into his hand and it was as if the car had become a part of himself he could adjust at will, to the point he noticed problems with the gas tank.

"I'll do my best" he said at the suggestion of bringing more customers Jacob's way. He was a wizard indeed and seemed to be an honest man as well, so recommending him would be easy.

"I'll drop by tomorrow to bring you your flash drive. Thanks for everything" he added, opening the door to his vehicle, entering and starting it up. The engine gave a distinct hum, it sounded almost brand new. He smirked as he put his hands on the wheel, popping one of them off to give his mechanic a disembodied thumbs up, then drove out of the shop.