Now I'm warnin' ya!

A few broken boards had given up and buckled under the snow the winter before and Isaac just hadn't had time to fix them. Because he did still prefer to fix little things around the house the way he'd been taught growing up in the family business. Nick could have taken care of it just as easily, and sooner, but it was the sort of task Isaac wanted to do.

Nick had cautioned him about his shoulder of course, even though there wasn't really anything near to heavy lifting involved, but Isaac had appeased those worries by assuring him that he wouldn't be working alone while Nick took Avery to the lake. They wanted to avoid Avery trying to help because of course he would be tempted to but the fence had been installed by the house's previous owner and the nails weren't safe for the young elf to touch.

"Well, that one is definitely finished," Isaac confirmed, pulling the bright red picket free from where he'd removed the nails holding it onto the railing a moment earlier; it had splintered fully down the center the same way several other of the boards had.

"Anything on this panel actually still holding together?"

He glanced to Griffin with the question while the younger Morey was busy going through the other end of the section of the fence looking for damage.

One thing Griffin couldn't say he'd necessarily gotten used to but accepted was the way everything Isaac touched was going to be some crazy color. He knew Isaac's powers were connected to his older brother's eye sight and that a colorful world was what his brother preferred to live in over nearly all else.

Colorful and kind, really the perfect way to describe Isaac Morey. Griffin wished he could be just a bit more like his brother that way.

"Did you invite a bull over?" Griffin snorted, seeing the red color and the way the fence seemed to have simply toppled over in protest to whatever clearly heinous thing Isaac had done here. "And here I thought you spent most of your days the last few years teaching kids how to use their nice hands to take care of their things."

He bristled a little at his own joke, wondering if he was being a jerk. Even if he was, he supposed Isaac would forgive him.

"And, uh, the left half seems to want to hold together but the right is demanding a divorce. Not sure they'll ever reconcile. Something about a cheating hag." Was it a good joke? Absolutely not. It was all he had to offer, though.

He didn't have the option to stay inside that day since Mama had sent him on an errand. Simple really because all he had to do was go to Town Hall, drop off some permits needed for a handful of jobs the town needed the mill to provide lumber for, and return home.

It should have only taken an hour or two at the most. Hardly any speaking required, right?

He hadn't been expecting to step out of Town Hall, around the corner and directly into someone who wasn't paying any attention to the space in front of them because of an arm load of boxes obstructing that view.

Griffin first felt startled, the hairs rising on the back of his neck like a cat facing something unfamiliar. Then that turned into irritation, the sharp sting of electricity curling around his legs.

"Jesus Christ," he grumbled. "Next time take two trips, yeah? You'll bowl right over someone like that!"

Griffin didn't get lost typically. He had a decent sense of direction thanks to his powers typically which led to him rarely losing his way. Electromagnetism wasn't great as a wider control of Griffin's powers, he hardly even practiced anything more than small shocks on purpose, but it did have the fun side effect of Griffin being pretty good at telling North from South when walking through the world.

Despite this, he was fucking lost.

He was in the forest, a place he hadn't explored in a few years, and he realized he'd been going in circles when he found a little dirt drawing he'd done with a stick about an hour before.

Shit.

Panicking wasn't going to help, either. Panicking only made his powers less reliable, especially since being let out of prison. He'd been avoiding them as much as he possibly could and now.. this.

A rustling sound was heard down the pathway and Griffin spun, ignoring the crackle of static behind his teeth. "Hello?"

Georgette was still miffed about that! Not a single how are you. Is everything okay?! It was I hope you have insurance! Do they think she is a rookie?! (She is.)

“It is just my aesthetic.” Georgette looked over at Griffen. “Plus I know I can’t fix the eyesore that is my salon over night but if you make me a pretty little sign it could be the perfect pink and purple bandaid.” Georgette honestly wasn’t going to take no for an answer on this one. She was the client.

“I think a design could be nice. Is that something that you can do?” Georgette rested her hands on her hips and looked over at the Morey. “What exactly can you do?” It wasn’t a read she was just curious what she could get out of him.

Plus she would insist on helping from start to finish!

"You didn't get hurt, did you? Are you... fine?" He wasn't the best with people, he frequently forgot to check in with anyone if they didn't approach him first about anything, but he was actually concerned. She seemed okay, didn't look injured, but she was also talking a mile a minute and that could mask some of the pain.

Her question was common, people trying to set their expectations early. He appreciated it. "I can carve anything you want," he answered with the first confident smirk he'd grown across his features in awhile. "I've got good tools and a lot of experience. If you're looking for images I'd just need a reference. If you're looking for a font that I can figure out more on a vibe." He heard the crackle of electricity dancing around his fingertips. Griffin would need to get some energy out after his shift.

"Basically, your wish is my command."

The younger man - one of the Moreys, though Winston hadn't the foggiest idea which one, right now - wipes the sawdust off his hands and comes closer. It's almost endearing, in a way, that painful looking smile on his face as he tries to be friendly and clearly doesn't succeed at it.

It makes Winston want to laugh, but he feels like that just wouldn't go well if he did. So, he doesn't.

This man, whoever he was, didn't seemed deterred by his presence and hands being on this project. It was nice, good that he didn't have to worry about being shooed away, but he also wondered if this customer knew who he really was given that he'd referred to him only as Mr. Morey.

"Good to hear," Griffin grunted, the awkwardness rising again. "Cabinets are simple enough but the curio might take a bit more time depending on design, detailing, and if you want glass in it as well." Griffin would have to order that, he wasn't going to make glass here at the shop.

Then she heard diva and she knew she was in.

“A diva has her time! I feel like I have been going through the worst of it!” Still holding up her arms she looked over to Griffin. “You need to measure my arms or something? Or you can eye ball it?”

Not that she knew anything about measurements.

“I’ll be the perfect model.” Georgette popped her hip out waiting for him to use the tape measure. “Can we make it pink and purple? Is that an available color scheme?”

"The worst, huh?" He debated making a prison joke but figured now was probably not the time to joke with a stranger about what he'd been through. "Well hopefully you'll be up and running at princess levels again soon, yeah?" He didn't mean it to sound abrasive, though everything he said seemed to have a bit of that blade attached. He was trying to be friendly in a very.. Griffin way.

He snorted and pulled the tape out of the tape measure, measuring around her outstretched arms to be sure he got it as accurate as he could. It wasn't exact with the way she'd decided to demonstrate but he'd make some educated guesses too.

"Pink and purple?" He asked before he could hide the slightly dismissive look on his face. Right! Customer Service Persona, Griff! "I mean, of course we can. Does the diva want pink with purple letters or vice versa? Or do you need, like, a design around the words?"

“Don’t you know who I am darling!” She waved her hands at the cutie behind the counter. “Price does not matter to me!”

Holding her hands out infront of her Georgette tilted her head. “Well I think it needs to be rather large.” She moved her hands out as if measuring. “Like the front window of a shop large. Or a door!”

Georgette did feel a bit pressured. A sign was a sign and wasn’t this their job to know measurements. Looking over at the front door she went to put her hands on each side of the door frame. This was a decent enough was t it?

“Maybe come on over here with that tape measure and we can start with the width of this door?!” Georgette bossed a bit. “I just need it to be outside my storefront. I’m sure you heard of my fabulous salon closing!” Her bottom lip pouted. “Diva in crisis over here!”

"Didn't mean to offend," he grunted, though a hint of a smile ghosted the corners of his lips. He instead focused on the measurement talk, very amused by her methods of guesstimating here. The woman was determined, the spark in her voice catching his attention quickly.

He grabbed the tape measure from his pocket, following dutifully behind the woman. "Yeah, this shouldn't be too bad. Sorry about your salon, 'Diva.' Hopefully you'll require quickly."

Winston hadn't been able to come into the Mill earlier than just before closing. Normally, he didn't do this; he was cognizant of the time people put into things and the effort it took to do them.

But, he had a few questions. He hoped they weren't busy and, well, if they were? He could simply return another day, when he didn't have a number of client meetings.

That said, however, he walks into the shoppe, a little bell dinging overhead, and offers the man in the place a friendly, though tired, grin.

"Custom? Well, I would have to start it tomorrow morning but I can jot an order down." He tried to put on a customer service smile but it came across a little pained so he dropped it entirely. Probably best that he keep his neutral-to-mildly-inconvenienced expression instead.

He grabbed the clipboard with the blank order sheets, sliding it across the nearest workbench toward the gentleman. "My dad will probably pop in a bit tomorrow too but I'm mainly the one working on the custom pieces right now." His teeth practically itched with nervous static. "What were we thinking?"

So on her way home from class she swung by the mill. What was a mill? Well she really didn’t know but she googled it and figured they might be able to help!

Trotting in the door she looked confused. Was this like a Home Depot or something?! Where was the little helper with the orange apron!

“Oh!” She turned towards the direction of the voice. “I am here because I need to make an order maybe…” she looked around the space again. “You guys like make stuff here right?!” Georgette was in the right place she had to be. “I need a sign.” Her arms went out to her side to gauge a size. “Like this big! To hang outside my now closed salon. Can you like do that here?! Please tell me you can!”

"A closed sign?" He tried to guess, though it was possible that the sign would have some other purpose. "Yeah, I can make a sign." He gestured vaguely to the pile of other completed signs he'd done that day. He'd call those customers the next day for their pickups as Griffin didn't want to stay too much longer here.

"Depending on how detailed or large"—Griffin mimicked the size she'd indicated with his hands—"will change the price of the project. Everything's made by hand here."

He was trying to get the drill bit out of his electric drill when he heard the door swing open. He turned, brow furrowing. It was close to closing time which usually kept most of the customers away for him to have time to clean up. Plus Papa had left for the day, leaving Griffin to actually have to deal with customers one-on-one.

Let's see how this goes...

Still, concerns weren't enough to stay away, and she would rather make her own judgements for herself. Penny deserved to have all of her family in her life when she could. Circumstances made that hard enough as it was.

"I can spare a few minutes. Why don't I - oh, thank you Jared." She caught his small concerned glance as he handed over the spritzer of the day before she sat down. Trust him to step in before she needed to ask. "It's mostly local performers tonight, so its a good night to settle in."

"Oh that's good, anyone I'd know?" He glanced toward the stage but he didn't recognize anyone yet. "It's weird how things are..." So different? So similar? So alien? So familiar? He didn't know what direction that sentence had been heading so he decided not to finish it.

He rolled a small dime-sized ball of electricity between his fingers, the sensation grounding him somewhat in the space. It wouldn't feel nice if someone else touched it, it would probably hurt quite a bit, but Griffin had rarely ever felt pain from his own magic.

"How've you been? How's... How's Penny?"

The last thing she expected was to run into Griffin Morey without any kind of warning.

She knew he'd been released of course. With as closely intertwined as she was with the Moreys, there had been plenty of quick conversations about the fact and what would come next. She knew of Isaac's worries. But it was hard not to remember the boy sitting at the table she was serving with a smile like lightning.

"You know we appreciate customers of all kinds. I didn't expect to see you tonight Griffin. Are you planning to stay long?"

Unexpected kindness hit just right and he smiled with genuine softness. It wasn't the bright sparkle that he used to have, there was no sizzle of electricity crackling with mirth, but a smile nonetheless.

"I.. Yeah, I think so. Figure I could sit and enjoy some music for awhile." He hadn't been so confident thirty seconds ago but he let his shoulders drop from their tense position just a little. "Are you on the clock or do you have a minute? I.. I'd like to catch up if you're free..."

And he didn't want to stress either his partner or his brother out over things that didn't necessarily need to be a topic of discussion right then.

"Trying to get used to things, I guess," Isaac answered honestly; some days he did feel he was trailing behind but it was just new, he'd get the hang of it after a while. His habit of always wanting to stay busy helped, but it also left him constantly questioning how busy was too busy at Town Hall while he tried to figure it out.

"What about you?" He asked, Even though he knew the answer was probably not going to be a very comforting one; Griffin had a lot of eyes on him and there was just no way for things to be comfortable again in town yet. Small towns had an unfortunate way of remembering things for quite a while.

They were still standing on the steps of Town Hall however, and getting in people's way. "We should probably talk somewhere that isn't in front of a doorway."

The bitter taste in his mouth sizzled and crackled like biting into a Warhead. He shouldn't be here, shouldn't be darkening this door with his thunderstorm presence.

"I'm really glad you're, um, doing.. well.." Great job, Griff. Very convincing. Very believable that you're so proud of Isaac's achievements. It doesn't matter that it's true, what matters is the perception of the words.

He stepped back, glancing at the door again. Griffin felt a lump form in his throat, betraying him and robbing him of his words. Instead he simply nodded, maneuvering his body to be as out of the way as possible. Maybe if he just situated himself just so he'd be swallowed up by the shadows and seem to disappear.

"I just... I was just walking around town. Needed to, uh, get out of the house." The answer was mostly true, minus the fact he'd come to see Isaac. How did he face that?