January 11th, 1893 — Penny's Workshop, Bartonburg
Alvin Bixby

The prototype had failed to remain airborne. Months of work, hours of charming and shaping and trimming, and the broom was still too heavy for the sky. Thankfully, the cushioning charms had held out, otherwise Penny would've been well on her way to the hospital right now as opposed to pacing around the recently reorganized workshop. The broom, if they could get it to work, could possibly be the next best quidditch broom on the market, it's near indestructibility a perfect trait for brooms facing bludgers and collisions. But, more than that, Penny and Alvin both desperately needed a win for vastly different reasons.

She eyed the tail end of the broom critically as she paced, her hair falling from its messy windblown bun and her brows furrowed in concentration. There was nothing else that could come off of the tail and the front end of it had already been shaved down as much as she dared. No further weight could come off it, try as Penny might to find it elsewhere. Which meant there was something missing from the charm work. What, though? What could possibly be missing?

"Do you think the broom's sturdiness would be impacted if we charmed it to be hollow?" She asked randomly. The wood would still be there, it wasn't as though they were transfiguring anything, so the sturdiness would be fine, right? "Or perhaps if we tried a different series of charms altogether?"

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"I think that would compromise the durability." Alvin wanted to promote the model as close to indestructible, able to withstand bludgers and crashes, to be dependable in rough weather. "Do you think we could graft two woods together, a lighter on on top and the field maple on the bottom to provide the structure?" Halving the heavier wood might take off some of the unnecessary heft to the shaft. "I'm just nervous it'll splinter too easily if we do that." It would look good though, melding two woods together. Though most quidditch teams cared about the function, Alvin wanted to broom to have good form too. Penny's brilliant work on the tail was already half the battle, but they were still stuck on getting the handle to cooperate.

"Maybe it is in the charms," he sighed, pushing up his already rolled up sleeves. Alvin flipped through his sketchbook, looking for the page he had notes on different local woods, thinking he needed to reach out to Hillicker and pick his brain about a wood Alvin hadn't thought about.

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As much as Penny loathed to admit it, she knew Alvin was right. A hollow shaft would break with the slightest impact and destroy the entire purpose of an indestructible broom. There had to be a way to make this broom work - Penny hadn't ever heard of a wood type being completely incompatible with flying. There were those that were too soft, she supposed, but even those could be used for brooms designed for travel as opposed for sport. There was always a way to make it work.

She began her pacing again, her mouth moving as she silently went over all the charms and work that had gone into this broom. It'd been months now, surely they were meant to at least have a functioning prototype by now. "I refuse to give up on the field maple. We're onto something - I know it." Penny said firmly despite having no suggestions to offer at present.

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Though he could understand her frustration, Alvin wasn't worried about the design. He could be flexible in some aspects and though he didn't want to change the wood, he could let it go. He'd had fair more failures in his career than wins; she was the opposite, obviously. But Alvin was also of the mind that everything had a time and a place and maybe this wasn't the right time for the field maple.

"The wood can be changed," Alvin hummed out as he found the page in his notes he'd been looking for. "Norwegian spruce is almost as durable and more flexible, might give it a different edge than what we originally intended, but it would look good with this design." The outer colors versus the heartwood was a good looking combo that would fly well, he thought. "I know an arborist I can get in touch with, see if he has any ideas." Cliff was a grumpy bastard, but he did know what he was talking about.

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If Penny was at all willing to sacrifice their newly fledged professional relationship, she would have shot him a glare at the suggestion. She had been forced to let go of so much in the past few years that letting go of an idea she'd grown to both love and was excited for was unfathomable. The field maple could work, they just had to figure out the right combination of things.

"I might ask Elias about it too, see if he has any opinions about the charms." Penny wasn't thrilled with the idea of presenting their unfinished broom to her teacher, but she didn't have nearly as many contacts as Alvin appeared to. All of her contacts were either based with Elias or off in Asia where letters would take weeks, if not months, to get to. "Did you ever give me a list of them? I swear I had it over here the other day." She paced over to her desk and began sorting through the mess of papers. It had all been organized a few weeks ago but her continued late nights had seen Penny become a bit more unraveled.

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Alvin wasn't opposed to asking Grimstone for his professional opinion. Penny had worked with him and trusted his judgement, so Alvin had no qualms about it. If he could still get in touch with his own mentor, he would ask too. "Good idea," he agreed. At this point any new idea would be welcome.

"List of what?" Woods? Contacts? Alvin wasn't exactly sure what she was referring to, but he could see her getting worked up and he shifted uneasily in his seat. They had a good working relationship, but Alvin still wasn't sure how to handle her moods sometimes. Recent life events had shown him just how bad he was with women and apparently this was on different.

"Let's take a break and come back it, I could use a snack and a cuppa?" He prompted, flexing the fingers on his bad hand. The cold made his joints hurt worse and therefore the whole thing sort of ached, no matter how much he tied to keep using them to keep them from stiffening up. He could pour through his notes again and see if he'd come up with anything useful.

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"The charms." Penny replied before finally finding the piece of paper she was looking for and folding it into the pocket of her dress (where she was sure to lose it again). She hated being so disorganized and would soon reach a point where she could no longer function until the mess was dealt with. It was just - this design was the first promising thing she'd encountered in years and she was failing it. Just like she'd failed -

No. Penny refused to go there. Not today. Not anymore.

She was glaring at the broom when he suggested a break. And, although she very much didn't want to step away, one glance at him flexing his hand had her sighing in agreement. "Sure, yeah. I think there are some biscuits upstairs, maybe some scones from this morning too."

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Penny found what she was looking for before he could even put the pieces together. Good, he wasn't very organized himself, kept everything in the notebook or it would be lost; but he had always been like that and could work easily in such conditions. "Excellent," he passed her a grin and stood from the stool he'd been perched on, stretching out his back and reaching high, nearly touching the ceiling of the basement workshop before motioning for the stairs.

He squinted at the change in light once they were upstairs. "Kettle? I can make the tea." Limited as he was, Alvin had a few kitchen skills that had allowed him to live with a bunch of friends in the States without starving to death. He left his notebook on the counter as he filled the kettle from the tap and lit the stove with his wand. Fire still made him all sorts of leery, even in the small amount of the burner flame, but he managed to keep the wince off his features, but stepped back quickly once the kettle was settled.

"Anything on the list, then?" He thought that even though they had stepped away, she wasn't going to stop thinking about it.

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Penny couldn't help but compare Alvin to Nemo at times. She mostly tried not to (she tried not to think about Nemo at all anymore) but when she was alone in the kitchen with Alvin it was nearly impossible to avoid. Throughout their countless dinners together, Nemo had learned the layout of the Fawcett's kitchen like the back of his hand. He knew where the kettle was and Penny's secret stash of liquor. He knew everything about her, and Alvin simply didn't.

Not that he ever would, or that they were anywhere near as close as friends. Because they weren't. They were colleagues, professionals. Penny knew how to separate the two, it was just difficult when she was feeling as stressed as she was.

She pointed out the kettle to him and set about arranging the plates of snacks. "Oh, I haven't been looking at it." Thinking about it, yeah, but Penny wasn't trying to make herself out to be some insane mess. "Do you take sugar in your tea?"

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There wasn't much else for him to do at the moment, until the kettle was ready and he'd been sitting for long enough already, so Alvin settled a hip against the counter near the stove and crossed his arms over his chest comfortably. He could wait a minute to indulge in the plate of snacks she was currently arranging. Alvin still hadn't managed to outgrow his eating habits of his teenage years, at least according to his mother.

"Please," sugar or honey were fine as long as he could sweeten it up somehow. "Let's reason it out, what's the main problem and what are some solutions we haven't tried?" Problem-solving wasn't one of Alvin's strengths, but he could do it when pressured; and with help. Penny was far cleverer than he was, so he assumed she would figure out eventually. Hopefully she didn't drive herself to drink in the process. He didn't want or need her to get burned out on this. Burnout led to bad decisions and bad decisions could lead to lifelong changes. Subconsciously he flexed his fingers again, attempting to crack his knuckles without showing just how much it hurt.

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Penny frowned as she gathered the various bowls and cups and floated them over to the small table. The main issues were that the broom couldn't maintain flight for long, which meant it was either a weight or charm issue. The tail was already shaped to allow for the maximum amount of levity, which meant it was something in the shaft of the broom. But, all of that was already discussed this evening, and all Penny felt was mounting frustration and a growing desire to burn it all down.

Which wasn't something she could ever mention to Alvin.

"Let's talk about something else instead." Penny urged as she sat down for what felt like the first time in hours. "Have you painted anything new lately?"

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Alvin was an idiot, but he wasn't dumb enough to push the issue when Penny clearly needed more than just a physical break from the broom itself. "Not really, a lot of sketching." Zinnia's surprise marriage had not stopped him from his trips to the greenhouse to see her. Truthfully, now, more than than ever, he wanted to keep an eye on her. He worried that she was in over her head, even if the Chief Constable seemed like a good guy. Alvin had to regrettably acquiesce to that. The man had stepped up. Alvin had done the same, to save Zin the backlash, but it he hoped it would be better in the long run for all of them to figure it out. That didn't stop him from harboring some ill will for the other man still.

"I like the quicker movement of sketches over sitting for a long painting." He was still doing the latter; he had to make money somehow, but it was losing its shine quickly. Having to do something for a living versus for enjoyment really sucked the fun right out of it. At least he could enjoy sketching still and even if it did wind up as part of his career again, it was different enough to design brooms to keep the two things separate.

"What is it you like to do in your free time?" Alvin hoped that was an innocuous enough question; getting to know on another if they were going to wind up working together wasn't such a bad idea.

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Penny took small sips of her tea as she listened. Having never been one for art beyond what was required for broommaking, Penny had little understanding of what was required for a full painting. It made sense that paintings took considerably longer than a sketch though, and with all that he had gone through recently she could further understand his lack of patience.

"What do you sketch?" She asked curiously before taking a bite of a biscuit. His question had her pause a second later, her frown reappearing on the edges of her lips. Penny didn't have many hobbies anymore, as all of them besides broommaking reminded her of the painful memories she was trying to forget. If it wasn't Nemo it was her father. If it wasn't her father it was something else. There was always something.

She had another sip of tea and then sighed. "I uh - broommaking, that's what I do lately." She eventually responded.

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He was floundering here and he knew it. Alvin didn't know much about Penny's history, save some of the snippets from the basement and comments like that, but he was starting to think they both needed some cheering up these days. Still leaning against the counter, Alvin surveyed her over his teacup, unsure of what to say.

"Sounds like we both need to get out more," he teased lightly, testing the waters. "Should fly some of those brooms you make." He couldn't really anymore, without the grip of both hands, but the fresh air could do them both some good, even if all he could do was watch from the ground.

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"I do," she shrugged, her mood most certainly soured by both the memories that plagued her and the work she was burdened under. "I test brooms for Elias sometimes, too. Attend parties every so often." She enjoyed the spirit ball, if only because she loved tormenting the ghosts. "Mundane stuff, really."

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Alvin was starting to move beyond just floundering in this conversation; he was drowning. He blew out a steady breath and took a sip of his almost too-hot tea. "Right," the following nod was noncommittal and he scratched at the back of his head with his band hand. He wished he could do test runs and he had no interest in society events these days so he was clawing at any common ground for a conversation. Maybe she was just over him today.

"Do you want to call it a day? I'll do some more research and see what I can adjust on the sketch." He could take another look through his notes, pick his way through some of the books he hadn't yet. There had to be a charm or something they were missing. Maybe it really was the wood. Grafting two together was still an option, but he couldn't tell how viable; he'd have to do more homework on it.

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