2019-05-31 - The Pawn Exchange

Lilith is sitting in a chair behind one side of the glass jewelry counter with her feet up on the edge of it, a pair of black and white Roxy sneakers propped up on the metal edging of the case with legs extended. With hair loosely gathered and twisted out of her face, she blows a straggler piece out of her mascara-laden eyes and makes a frustrated noise while adjusting the item she's got propped against her legging-clad lap. Though she's got makeup on, possibly to hide residual fatigue, she's casual enough, wearing a white layering tank under a black and white plaid shirt that's been left open.

And the item in her lap? It's a taxidermy raccoon of some size and she is trying to pry an eye out the hard way. After a moment, she goes to cheat a little and both pop right out, brief moment that it is. She has a bell on the door, but naturally, anyone could walk in and catch that little flare at any time.

Oh-oh. Alexander was already heading for the pawn shop, perhaps just to get out of the cracking, booming thunderstorm outside. But he pauses for a moment when he feels that little tickle of...something special against his senses. After a moment, though, he finishes opening the door and sidles inside. He's dressed in t-shirt and jeans - the t-shirt has gotten wet enough that there's the bulky bumps of bandages outlined on his chest. Despite that, he looks better rested than usual. Almost healthy. Or as close as he gets. The wary expression, though, that's very normal, as he takes a slow look around, centering eventually on Lilith. And the raccoon. He stares. "I recognize you," he mutters, after a moment, and closes the door behind him. "Who are you?" As if she's the interloper here.

Lilith drops her feet immediately as the bell rings with timing to coincide pretty much with her little bit of cheating while she's seated trying to do things the more natural hard way, like a guilty or paranoid kid. Then she relaxes a little as she sees it's just a guy. But then she looks closer while rising up into a gradual stand and she leans forward on the glass case after putting the glass dark animal eyeballs aside turning the eyeless taxidermy piece as if she's setting it to examine too. It might be a little accidentally creepy, but then, it's probably a non-issue given his attention is somewhat focused on the woman herself.

After studying Alexander for a few beats, her standout blue eyes taking a turn toward unfocused, then keen in split second turns, she exhales a sudden breath of recollection. After reaching a hand up to swipe through her hair, she says, "I'm Lilith Winslow. You're... Alexander? I was asking who you were after... well. People were looking at you." Okay, she may have been drawn to look at him too and think a few unwitting and unsavory things there too thanks to Keene, but she doesn't say that.

"Alexander Clayton," Alexander elaborates, with a curt nod. His eyes narrow slightly as he slouches towards the counter, glancing down at the eyeless raccoon, then back up to her. "Lilith Winslow. I'll remember." His mouth twitches downwards at the rest. "Oh. Yes." A long pause, during which he contemplates the shop. "Were you hurt? During the play? And wasn't there a man here, before? An older man?"

"Hank? The drunk guy with shenanigans? Yeah. He's my dad. I came back here recently and took over. He about ran the place into the ground though, so really, he's uh. Grounded from here now. Mostly. Unless I need to run out." Lilith explains to Alexander after studying him a little longer then making sudden look away into the case so she can lean and pull from the back of it. She unwraps a bracelet with red stones all running through it, two of which are already missing. Taking her little jewelry tool back in hand she starts to do things the slow and meticulous hard way again with idle half-ass prying to try and free one of the fake gems from the setting.

"I... yes. I was popped in the gut by a crossbow bolt and bled... a lot. Scared me as much as anything else to bleed that much, I guess, but it was taken care of. Not that it's particularly pleasant feeling to be alive today, but alive is good." She pauses after making the explanation, then wonders, "... are you okay?" They're strangers, and it's as much curiosity as concern in that been-through-trenches-together way that people have through circumstance sometimes.

"Shenanigans." Alexander stares for a moment, then the corners of his mouth turn up. "I've always liked that word. Like lollygagging. You don't hear it enough." He prowls the nearby shelves, restlessly, checking out the merchandise. "Sorry. About the crossbow. I'm glad you're not dead." It's just a matter of fact observation. Her question gets a shrug. "Fine. Burned a little. Gashed a little. Slept well." He furrows his brow at that last, then shrugs again, turning back to the counter and reaching out to boop the raccoon's taxidermied snoot with one finger. "Why did you remove its eyes?" A glance at the red stones. His eyebrows go up. "Are you...going to give the raccoon those for eyes?" He sounds dubious about this.

"It's a fabulous word." Lilith admits to Alexander with a flit of her eyes up from what she's absently doing while talking, her own mouth pulling with slant of appreciative, trace amusement. She watches him wander on the sly, but not because she probably thinks he's going to shoplift or anything while browsing. Mostly it's because he's bright in that backhanded way and blunt and she's... curious. But she's pretty surreptitious about it all. With another blow of hair out of her eyes when he poses the question, she breaks into full on grin and explains herself.

"Yes. That's exactly what I'm doing. I'm giving it demon eyes. It's... a thing I did for Frankie when I found her a taxidermy black chicken as a surprise, don't bother asking why..." Then she straightens and puts her hand on top of the raccoon's little dead head after huffing a tad at the boop with humor, "Anyway, this is a trash bear, Gina has bear diner, she's getting a demonic trash bear to put... I don't know. By the trash, probably to spook people. Because she's Gina."

Then non-sequitor, she wonders, "What do you do?"

"It is. Sometimes the old words are. Incipere audeat is close, if you want to get very old, but I confess it doesn't roll exactly off the tongue in the same way," Alexander mumbles a bit, but he quiets with the explanation, studying her with a flat stare that lacks any subtlety or tact at all. "A...demonic chicken. And now a demonic trash bear. For the Diner." He gives the raccoon a long, thoughtful look. "She'll probably like that," he admits. His head comes back up with an almost audible snap at the question. A hesitation. "I look into things, when people hire me. Sometimes when they don't. When that's not happening, I track down fugitives, turn in tips for the rewards. Why?"

"Because we're taking turns being nosy, seems like, and it seemed like the next thing to know." Lilith says to Alexander with her own dry brand of blunt honesty. Then she gives up prying at the stones to cheat again because current company clearly isn't going to find it odd, considering the span of their theatre-going adventure. Granted, it's not like she was really in a way to pay mind to what he was doing himself when it was happening, but all the same, she can see he's highly able, no doubt, by the way she's eyeing him and maybe that's why she stops playing busywork and takes the shortcut in brief again, unabashed.

It's quick, the stones pop out and she starts to compare sizing for a moment before pulling up a stone to toss from hand to hand while making another curious inquiry of Alexander, "But mm, yes, I think she'll like it. So a private investigator? Interesting. I have two more questions now. First one-- what do you tend to investigate? Cheating spouses, petty crimes? Or are we perhaps talking ghosts and murder, considering...?" Here. Considering here. She doesn't say it, though, she smiles a little instead and tries to work her voice around repeating what he said as 'old words' prior, "And two-- What does incip- incipeer-- audeat... What do those old words mean?"

Alexander twitches a bit as he feels that flash of power, his shoulders hunching and posture sliding into something more defensive for just a moment, before those stones pop out on their own. He relaxes - as much as he's been relaxed this whole time, which isn't much. "Nosiness is one of my many character flaws," he agrees, with a roll of his shoulders. But there's a shake of his head. "Can't call myself a private investigator. No license. I just...look into things. Things no one else wants to. Crimes, sometimes. No cheats. It's not every interesting, cheating. Murder is interesting. Ghosts are interesting. The Illuminati is interesting. Bigfoot is interesting, but it's never Bigfoot. People come to me when no one else will believe them; I'm loony tunes, after all." His faint hint of a smile returns at the last. "A rough and tumble translation would be 'devilry'. Shenanigans doesn't translate at all, really. I did the best I could."

The more Alexander talks, the closer Lilith seems to listen despite the 'looney tunes' angle of his explanation, going very still with interested, subtle tilt of her head. She makes a noise in her throat with acceptance and thought after he's finished, then puts the stone down as her phone buzzes on the counter and she sends off a brief confirmation reply text before nodding to herself about one thing or another, "Sorry, someone making sure I'm healing alright. Those are the questions you don't save til later, because it feels rude to leave them wondering if something is amiss. And something tends to seem amiss here a lot, as... it sounds you're well aware."

Drawing in a breath and setting her phone aside, she leans on her forearms and looks back at Alexander, the toe of a shoe digging at the floor behind the counter with pensive fidget, "... calling something 'devilry' sounds a little snazzy anyway, unless you really -mean- devilry. Sounds dramatic for kicks." A pause, "So you're a nosy hobbyist that knows about weird things. What is it you make of yesterday's... weird thing? Do you think more will return?"

Alexander's gaze transfers to the phone, although he gives a brief shake of his head at the apology. "It's your shop. You can do what you like." He crosses his arms over his chest...then winces and drops them awkwardly to his sides. "It's a fucked up place," he says, bluntly. "And that about sums it up," he admits, about himself. "I do get paid. Occasionally. So...semi-professional nosy person who knows about weird things." He looks down at his feet at the question. "I don't know. This is the first time I've met people who worked for the darkness. It seemed to speak to them. They knew things about me they shouldn't have, not even with," he reaches up and taps his temples, "barring external guidance or excellent research. And honestly, none of them looked like the types who wanted to put in the work. They took the easy out. What they serve," a pause, "it wanted, wants, to devour the whole town. To hold us all in screaming darkness for eternity, drinking our terror like a flowing river of wine. So. Yes. Eventually, I think more will come." He rubs the back of his neck. "But I think it is...happy, for now. It didn't care about them. Just about pain. It got that."

"Everything you just said, I really shouldn't understand. But unfortunately... I do. At least, enough so. So thanks for answering like that. Not everyone is so direct and able to cut things down just so." There's a long moment where Lilith just stares at Alexander while he's speaking, leaned on her forearms like that, but the expression isn't disbelief, it's unease and a general surprise about him being so very candid where darkness etc. is concerned. Then after a little breath, she nods small and mentions thoughtfully, "You're not the only one to say that things feel... 'happy' for now, so to speak, though. Everything is relative, of course, but... mm." She seems as if to ask another question, then seems to think better of it, giving him opening instead, "I'm accidentally quizzing you. If you want to ask me something, you can, I'll give you some air space for it." A pause as her eyes move in brief around the shop, "Or I can leave you alone and let you poke around like a good shop owner."

"One of the advantages of everyone knowing you're crazy is not having to mind what you say. You'll believe me, or you won't. I don't have a reputation to lose." Alexander says it tonelessly, his expression blank, but not passive. Despite his words, he's watching her very closely, his eyes dark and thoughtful. "I don't mind. I'm not good at conversation. Answering questions about weird shit is easier than small talk." Another small shrug of his shoulders. "And I don't know you well enough to know what to ask." A look around the store. "Did you have a store, wherever you were before? Where did you come from, when you weren't in Gray Harbor?"

"No. I grew up here, went away after graduation about ten years ago, came back ahhh, I don't know a month ago to..." Lilith's hand flits around the general shop before she nods a little at Alexander with understanding to the 'conversation' matter, but if he's bad at it, they seem to be working around that well enough for the time being. Even if the subject matter is a bit odd and variably shifting around. If it's concerning her, she's not letting on, but given her relaxed posture more or less with conversational lean, she's probably fine enough. His very keen eyes steady on her do make her focus elsewhere here and there, though, as if she's a little self-conscious about something or just plain giving him space to stare and figure out what he's trying to figure. It could be either.

"I moved around a lot, didn't do much. But I spent the most time in Miami. I guess I was a private consultant of sorts for a while." But then she's changing subject to wonder, "If you're into weird, what's the weirdest thing you think you've seen?"

"No. I grew up here, went away after graduation about ten years ago, came back ahhh, I don't know a month ago to..." Lilith's hand flits around the general shop before she nods a little at Alexander with understanding to the 'conversation' matter, but if he's bad at it, they seem to be working around that well enough for the time being. Even if the subject matter is a bit odd and variably shifting around. If it's concerning her, she's not letting on, but given her relaxed posture more or less with conversational lean, she's probably fine enough. His very keen eyes steady on her do make her focus elsewhere here and there, though, as if she's a little self-conscious about something or just plain giving him space to stare and figure out what he's trying to figure. It could be either.

"I moved around a lot, didn't do much. But I spent the most time in Miami. I guess I was a private consultant of sorts for a while." But then she's changing subject to wonder, "If you're into weird, what's the weirdest thing you think you've seen?"

Alexander listens, his gaze unwavering and entirely oblivious to any impoliteness that might be involved in the staring. He gives a brief nod to something she says, as if it resolves some internal question that he didn't quite voice. "Moving isn't bad. Especially if it's away from Gray Harbor," he says, with a hint of dry humor along with it. His eyes narrow slightly at the vague nature of the answer, and change of subject. But - perhaps proving that there is SOME sort of tact inside him after all - he doesn't pursue it. "I'm not certain I can answer that. Weird is...contextual. Many things which made sense at the time might prove very odd to outsider observers." He tilts his head back, stares at the ceiling for a moment. "On the other hand, a couple of weeks ago, a group of us did get sucked into a nightmare where we beat the shit out of the Harlem Globetrotters on a desert island, then were attacked by a giant flesh-monsters made of the cast of Gilligan's Island, which hurled actresses with exploding dresses at us. That was pretty odd." It's said very bland.

"... yes. I was close friends with Tobin, the boat captain growing up and thought it'd be a wonderful idea to show up on that tour and surprise him since I was settled back in town. Got a few surprises that day, I suppose. So you were along for -that- too, hm? It was crowded and chaos and... strange. Even considering we're kind of in the realm of strange..." Lilith's nose screws a little with unease of the memory, but honestly, the nature of that day was so hard to process even now from the sheer ridiculousness of it, and that's clear in the unease as much as any memory about the danger.

After wetting her lips, she takes a pensive beat and wonders then, a bit slowly, "Do you believe... that if someone gets lost in a dream, or whatever the other side is, I guess... they can be found again?"

Alexander may be his own brand of special, but Lilith seems to be taking it for what it is and letting her own strange pondering come loose because of it, largely unabashed and direct. Apparently she's good at handling 'different' in a man for whatever reason. That or she's just nosy and never gets an opening to not sound like a loon herself while talking about matters.

"Mister Gilford. Yes. I'm sorry, it was...yes. Sometimes difficult to remember." Alexander ducks his head, rubs at his neck, thoughtfully. "And, yes, even for Gray Harbor, that one rather," he clears his throat, "stood out." Her question makes him frown. Not disapproving, but thoughtful. "I would think they're dead," he says, after a silence. "I have always operated on the assumption that if you don't find your way out of the Dream, you will be devoured. I haven't run into any evidence suggesting otherwise.

But then he frowns, and shakes his head, slowly. "On the other hand, I can't offer definitive evidence otherwise, either. The actors seemed to be able to /create/ Dreams, and pull us into them at will. I don't know if that's because of their patronage, or if it's something that any of us could do, if we were strong enough. If the former, then presumably the Shadows could imprison a person in a Dream unending. If they wanted. If the latter, one could imprison themselves." He starts to pace before the counter. "If THAT were so, then those Dreams would have to exist in some metaphysical space - stable constructs in the liminal realm, let us say. If they exist, then presumably, there is a way to reach them, breach them. If THAT is the case, then I suppose, yes, you could retrieve a person who was within such a Dream. So. Perhaps? Unlikely, but possible."

"I see. Okay." Lilith hasn't been bothered visibly almost this entire visit, and now is really no exception. If she's upset by the possibilities presented by Alexander in his thoughtful layout and theory, or the likely consequences, she's not quite letting on. But her following words are simple and quiet and her eyes go a little far away with considering everything he said. In fact... the way she was looking at him when he was explaining, she might have been -memorizing- what he said as much as trying to process it. She's treating things like a proper enough consult, despite all.

But then she seems to run out of questions too and eventually looks away to the side, then back to Alexander, breathing out commentary, "... unfortunate and unnerving. Seems to be a little bit of your specialty. Not that I mind. I asked." Her lips slant up with a vague semblance of helpless smile.

Alexander freezes in place, the animation draining out of him. "It's all theoretical," he says, back to mumbling. "I...it's just rambling." He turns back to her. "I should go. It sounds like the storm is abating. I hope you heal. And continue not to die. It was nice. To talk with you." With that, he turns and starts walking away, head down.

"It... was oddly refreshing to talk to you. Rambling's okay. I do it too." Lilith bats her lashes twice while watching Alexander visibly withdraw in both senses of the term and reaches a hand up to pull her hair down and free, working fingers through as he goes. After tiny pause, she calls after, "Please continue not to die, too." Settling down again a bit gingerly once the bell has rung his way out on the door, the brunette finally lets her expression flood with anxiety and worry and general sadness. After a sigh, though, she doesn't wallow, she just thinks. She thinks real hard while installing demonic red eyes in a dead trash bear.

Everyone has their necessary functioning oddities.