[color=teal][sub][i]January 12 2079[/i][/sub][/color][hr]
[Colour=lightgray]Artem sidestepped the chauffeur, hoping to avoid the cold wash of air toed behind him. For a short moment their eyes met before awkwardly staring into the middle distance. Artem could almost hear the screech of Varya's teeth as her eyes almost chased the man out of the room. With a bottle of deicer in hand and another atop his opposite shoulder he made his way towards his new colleague, throwing one up onto the workbench he quickly fiddled with the radio dial. His choice of music was met with groans, several of the mechanics gave derisory glances only to see Artem's juvenile smile arching his lips rebelliously.  

The vehicle they would be working on was in relatively good condition. The primary job was seemingly the ice, and once the systems had had a once over Artem hoped this order would be the sum of his days work. Though his new partner was more interesting to him. They had seen each other around the shop but had never been thrust into a meaningful interaction before, and with her gawky mannerisms and seemingly tactless approach he felt it would be an introduction to remember.

"[/colour][Colour=Teal]So, Varya. Where do you want to start?[/colour][Colour=lightgray]"

He posed the question with his back turned. Unscrewing the bottle lid he began mixing the deicer into a formula ready to be decanted into a spray bottle for ease.

"[/colour][Colour=Teal]Do you think you could manage the systems check? I'll begin with the ice.[/colour][Colour=lightgray]"

Artem turned, spray bottle in hand and with that same formative smile on his face. She was actually pretty, in the right light, but Artem began to muse what her reasons for being a mechanic could be. She was short and a little scrawny, not suited to heavy lifting or the more physical tasks, although she fared well with the pair of heaters. However the calluses on her hands made Artem feel slight guilt for his judgements. Small or not she was obviously capable and she had been in shop for a good while, you don't need a strong arm to type out code he supposed to himself.

His thoughts were interrupted by static. Artem turned to see one of the elder mechanics meddling with his radio and with a swift swing of his boot scared him appropriately away. The act garnered a few laughs around the shop with a number of hand gestures being exchanged in jest. Muttering under his breath at the brass-faced nerve of the older generation, Artem turned back around and began spraying his formula over the iced panels of the car. A feint laugh managed to escape as he looked to Varya, rolling his eyes imagining she understood the nature of the shop floor.[/colour]