~He smiled~ thanks i'll need it...I'll make note to stop in that pub sometime ~He grinned~

*Wandering slowly over the horizon dressed in what looked almost like standard biker clothes but with attitude. His Black leather jacket bouncing off his midsection with every step, a simple band shirt under it clung tight to his body. Long black denim pants ran the length of his legs stopping on the bridge of his steel toed boots. His black with red striped hair danced on the gentle breeze. Brown eyes scanned half heartedly across the landscape of building after building. To those who would look upon him would see his face a cornicopia of metal and scruff. 4 hoops per eyebrow, 3 barbells down the bridge of his nose, 3 librea studs, a dimple spike per cheek, spetum horseshoe, and roughly 15 hoops and studs per ear. strapped to his back is a light holster containing what appeared to be a simple steel baseball bat* if times were any slower i think id have to leave this city

~There was muttering and grumbles coming from under the black Charger as he fought to change the oil in it before shimmying back out again...he didn't have an oil pan so of course he managed to get it mostly covering his arm as it ran onto the pavement, glad he parked next to a storm drain..if he had the option he would have done things the right way but it just didn't seem to work that way, after the oil had drained from the car he re-secured the old filter, sighing, he felt bad for the car but what else would he do? He'd have to figure some way to work up the money to buy a new filter later...he put the new oil in the engine and wiped off his arm with an old shirt from the back seat...not like he had many new shirts to speak of anyway..walking around to the driver's side and turning over the engine, listening to her stammer then purr like a kitten was reassuring if only a little as he glanced to the gas tank...a half tank wouldn't last long...~

*Continuing to wander slowly across the sidewalk of the city street with little of a care on him mind other then the lack of work to keep him entertained. Eyes still perusing over the surrounding buildings, local business', corperate conglomerate buildings, none that fit his style of work. Taking minor notice to a figure playing macanic to a classic that sounded in desperate need of some real TLC.* poor thing, cars dont deserve the shit we do to em *shrugging he marched on to a candance heard on in his head*

~You could only do so good by your car when you didn't even have the money to eat. It was a blessing that woman almost hit him earlier and left him the quarts of oil even though he was hesitant to let her do it. He watched the man walk past from the comfort of the old car...oh well..what was a person to do...now to figure out where he could work off dinner~