It would be a lie to try and describe the shop where Toni and Dax worked as anything other than a hole in the wall, but as Toni often said; it was their hole in the wall, and that made it special. The new storefront was bright and alluring, promising upgrades to equipment most other mechanics refused to even touch, let alone sell, and the dynamic duo had a fairly steady stream of customers wandering through their door. The majority of them were regulars, always stopping by to chat and pick up a new coil or fusion port while they were out.
The place had been through a few renovations over the years, and the awkwardly-small building sat hunched like a gremlin amid the tall, sleek buildings that surrounded it in the east end of the shopping district. The only thing flashy about the Harpy’s Nest (aside from the name, which had always tickled Toni) was the neon lights that flashed the name and list of supplies proudly to passers-by. The rest of the building was done up in a brick substitute that Toni refused to change, despite the numerous complaints of her fellow proprietors, and had far too many windows to be considered normal. The glass, however, reflected back the lights of the other storefronts, and it gave the Harpy’s Nest an ethereal, ever-shifting glow that always managed to catch the eye of some unfortunate so-and-so who happened by and was nearly blinded by the light show.
Inside the Nest, in the front of the store, everything was organized onto glass shelves and chrome tables with little lights that hung in midair, and zipped about the place when a customer moved from one display to another, always providing them with the best light possible to view the merchandise. In the back of the store, however, everything was covered in machine parts, oil, and blueprints for inventions Toni had yet to construct. Dax had tried (more than once) to try and clean the place up, but when he had managed to pick up a rag and disrupt an entire shelf full of tools, he had finally given up and concentrated on keeping the showroom tidier than the rest of the east end showrooms put together.
Above the shop was the house the pair of them shared, bedecked in an eclectic mix of contemporary furniture and things left over from when Toni’s parents had run the shop, smacking of Old Earth and the times before humanity had taken to the stars. Toni and Dax would make small, occasional upgrades to the house (a self-cleaning floor or two, a hover-table to carry food so neither of them ever dropped steaming hot soup on themselves ever again, and Surround-Sight wallpaper to give them a better view), but on the whole they left it alone because it reminded them of their childhood. The pair of them had grown up together, and it would take more than the occasional spat (“You can’t leave your jetpack lying in the middle of the floor, it’s dangerous.”) to break them apart.
The daily routine started the same every morning, with Dax shuffling downstairs before the redhead awoke, and making them both breakfast. By the time Toni was awake and presentable, coffee and pancakes (either with fruit or plain) would be waiting on the table along with sausage and eggs, wafting their delicious aroma throughout the entire apartment. A tiny bottle of syrup would sit by Toni’s plate while Dax preferred his pancakes with just butter. They would sit, say thanks for the meal, and then tuck in to fluffy eggs and perfectly fried sausages while Toni looked over the orders for the day and Dax tried not to think about the monumental headache that would come from trying to fill so many orders in one day.