2019-06-14 - Be Brave or Die

It's nightish, and Alexander has given Isolde a key, so that he can lock the front door and not be incredibly twitchy about having it unlocked. The house smells good - not because Alexander has COOKED, because he cannot do that, but because he stopped by a place to get a take-and-bake pizza, and that is currently in the oven, turning a crispy golden brown. He's pacing from the living room to the kitchen, checking on the pizza, checking on the door, checking on the pizza, etc. Luigi is in his cage, dozing.

Isolde's stomach rumbles when she smells the pizza, likely because she probably hasn't eaten all day aside maybe a Safeway muffin for breakfast. Because damnit they're going to learn to love her there and stop looking at her weird one of these days. The front door opens and closes, signaling her entering. A little peek at Luigi's cage with a smile. Seeing the bird always made her feel a little better. Spying Alexander in the kitchen, she walks that way - shedding her flannel. "The food smells good Alexander." Giving him a smile too. "How has your day gone?" She rummaged around in the pocket of the flannel for a moment - producing a rubberband before shifting to toss the flannel on to the couch for now. The rubberband is then used to pull her hair back into a ponytail as her attention turns back to him. Even though she's got a smile, she does look a little down over all.

"Fine." Once she's through the door, Alexander is standing too close. Staring at her with a flat scrutiny that verges on the reptilian. He looks her over carefully. "No blood. No broken bones. You're well?" That with his gaze going back to her face for a moment. No food until he receives that reassurance, apparently.

Isolde is a little startled by the proximitiy, eyes widening a touch. "I am okay." Sure assured him, relaxing a little. "There was a woman ghost that tried to scare us...I didn't like that. And kids laughing. The house was a bad thing." Her frown deepened. "The house got the girl, but I don't know if we can get her back."

"Good. The town is dangerous, Isolde. Places are dangerous. You need to be careful." There's worry threaded through it. Alexander steps back from her a little, but his attention remains firmly fixed on her. "You saw a ghost? And it got a girl, and scared Easton so that he crashed his car. Tell me?" He moves towards the oven, to bring the pizza out before it burns. As it is, it's a little more brown than golden when he retrieves it and puts it on the counter for cutting.

"I will be careful. And you will be careful. And we'll be okay." Isolde nodded firmly and then followed him to get the pizza out. A brief, suspicious look towards his plants. But once it was confirmed that they were stationary, Isolde focused on Alexander again. "A girl went missing. Pamela. She was playing at the house with her friends and they lost her. Everyone says the house in bad. Haunted." Isolde paused to collect her thoughts. "We heard kids laughing upstairs...so we went up. And the woman ghost said...the door was closed." Her brow furrowed. "Do you know what that means?"

Alexander looks only mildly reassured by Isolde's words, but he doesn't say anything else. Instead, he searches for a pizza cutter with more enthusiasm than necessary; the drawers BANG and clatter until he finds a large, sharp knife that will serve. He starts cutting the pizza into slices as he listens. "No. I don't. Maybe an indication that the path the girl took was no longer there. I heard she was missing."

Isolde watches Alexander clamor around with a barely perceptible frown. A little tug at her hair as she snapped herself out of whatever she may have been thinking to refocus. "Maybe. The girl was outside when we left. Dressed in old clothes. Like..victorian clothes I think. The woman was dressed that way too. I am going to search it." She rummaged a moment and got them down two plates. "Speaking of searching. I maybe found some helpful information." Smiling again. "About the Baxter people. Maybe."

Alexander takes a deep breath, staring down at the knife in his hand. He turns it a little, so that he can see his reflection in the blade, red-streaked and marred by tomato sauce from the pizza. "It might not be the girl you're looking for," he murmurs, slowly. The clatter of the plates seems to help him focus, and a few more deep breaths has him moving with less power and more control. "Research is a good idea." When she brings the plates over, he starts to serve them each a couple of slices to start out with. "You did?" A glance in her direction. "What did you find?"

It might not be the girl you're looking for. That was an interesting thought. "Maybe...maybe not. Only so many ways to find out. But I will be carefuly and I won't go to any potentially bad places without letting you know." Perhaps trying to reassure him a little more as she accepts the plate from him. "Mmm this looks good." So what if it was a little more on the brown side. She was grateful for anything and was definitely not brave enough to try cooking again. Isolde motioned for him to come into the living room so they could sit. She moved her flannel out of the way and curled up on one end. "Well. There wasn't enough of them." She starts, pauses, and then elaborates. "The official records and the clues from some newspapers didn't add up....so I thought maybe there were more Baxter's with differen't last names." She took a bite of pizza, sighing contently. "I found two at least." She set the plate down to go rummaging in that flannel again and pulled out a piece of notebook paper.

Handing it to Alexander so he could read it. There was a note about a Mitchell Johnson and Suzanne Baxter getting married in 1945 with Suzanne's name underlined and notes about 'WHO WAS SHE??' underneath. There is another note about 1870. Elizabeth Baxter marries William G??? "...It isn't a lot but maybe it can help?"

Alexander follows her into the living room, and settles in on the other end of the couch. He's not as focused on the food as he on the meaty, meaty research, and he puts the plate on the coffee table so that he can take the paper she offers. "Ah. Yes, this is interesting. Thank you, Isolde. This woman," he points to Suzanne, "I know what happened to her. It is not a happy story. But I'm not sure about this other. Elizabeth. Marries William...hmm. What last name. Interesting." A glance up at her, and a smile. "I think it will help. Harper, the librarian, uncovered some interesting things about the early town. There was a preacher, a Baxter, who was...a bad thing, I think. He had several women killed, including members of his own family, for being 'witches'. They may have just been like you or I - glittery. That may have been the start of whatever started."

"The last name was illegible. I couldn't decipher it at all." Isolde seemed a little disappointed about that, but curious about what Alexander shared. "Harper is going to help me find interview clothes. A preacher Baxter?...What if the relatives he didn't kill ran away and changed their names?" She thought a bit longer. "There was a ferris wheel accident. In...64." She reaches over to him to turn the paper over so he can see the notes on the other side. 'Baxters to blame. Should pay for damages? Wealthy? How was it their fault if it was?' Isolde settled back in her seat. "Did you or Harper read anything about that?"

"Town stories always had it that the Addingtons may have run the Baxters out of town - bought up all their land, made sure they weren't competition," Alexander muses. The mention of the Ferris Wheel accident brings a brief nod. He stands up, abruptly, and goes into the office. He returns with print-outs of old pictures. He shows them to her - and PROBABLY should have warned her or something, because it's not the sort of thing most people look at while eating pizza. Bits of children are spread over the boardwalk among the ruined Ferris Wheel parts. "There were over twenty deaths that day. What makes you think the Baxters were responsible, Isolde?" No doubt, just curiosity as he studies her.

Isolde stares blankly at the pictures for a moment - slowly removing the pizza away from her mouth because she had been about to take a bite when he returned with these pictures. The plate gets set down and she takes the pictutes from him so she can look closer. A morbid curiosity on her features and a little frown. "This is terrible." Peeking back up at him. "I didn't. The newspaper did. They said the 'no good Baxters' were to blame." Handing the pictures back. "But...if the Addingtons were trying to run the Baxters out...could they have done it?" Pondering on that for a moment. "And how do the Johnson's and their Mortuary fit in to it? Besides the guy marrying the girl?"

Once she takes the pictures, Alexander takes up his plate and munches on some pizza while he watches her. "It was, yes. Interesting. And that...I would be suspicious of that, yes. The Addingtons have a lot of influence in the town. I think they've been doing things behind the scene. They may be responsible for burning down the mortuary, and forcing...bad things...to happen to Suzanne." He looks down at the pizza, brow furrowed. "Don't repeat that to anyone from the town, Isolde. I can't prove it. Even if I could," his voice turns dry, "no one would back me against the Addingtons."

"I would." Isolde says those two words without even a second thought. "If there was proof they did bad things, I would back you up." Without the constant supply of pills Isolde was slowly becoming a little bit more lucid. Like a fog was sort of being lifted from her and she could think a little clearer. "I'll stay quiet though. But I will try and search that too." Isolde finally picked up her plate again and took another bite of her pizza. "We will find out what happened. Because the truth is important." Another matter of fact nod.

Alexander blinks a couple of times, clearly surprised. His smile is slow, but warm. "Thank you, Isolde. It wouldn't help - you and I are no match for the Addingtons - but it's a nice thing to say." He nods in quiet agreement with her declaration about the truth, though. He continues to study her for a while, before asking, "How are you feeling? The drugs, the voices, the ghost. How are you handling it?"

"Probably not. But trying is important too." Isolde set the plate back down after finishing off one of the slices and relaxed a bit, resting her head on the back of the couch. Watching him watch her, not seeming to mind the silence or the watching. Thinking on his question, "Tired mostly." She answers. "And I still don't sleep so good. But my head feels a little clearer. The voices are quieter...I think because I've been trying to keep busy." She shifted to draw her knees to her chest. "The ghosts were scary, but I didn't run away. I felt sad when I saw the girl ghost. Well, the ghost who may or may not be the girl."

"You're a brave woman," Alexander replies, quietly. "I remember that from before." When they got lost in Eugene, he clearly means. "Withdrawal can be difficult, but keep me informed on how you're feeling. If it gets too bad, I may be able to help ease it a little. Get as much sleep as you can." Although he's not making that any easier - his own night terrors have started to return, and several nights have probably been broken by odd crashes or sounds of distress from his room. "You intend to continue investigating the girl's disappearance?"

"I will let you know." Isolde gave a little smile, though it faded at the mention of Eugene."Be brave or die. I wasn't ready to die." She looked towards the front door and then back to Alexander. "How about you? How are you sleeping?" She knows the answer is likely 'not well'...but he's helped her so much, Isolde just wanted to try and return the favor so to speak. Give him a chance to talk about the bad things if he wanted. Nodding about the girl. "Going to try. Investigate the house mainly. Its history. See if I can learn about the lady ghost."

Alexander nods. "Those are the only choices. I'm glad you continue to make the right one." He polishes off one slice, works on the next. His answer to her question is slow. "I haven't gotten lost, recently. But the nightmares are always there. It's fine. I'm sorry if I've disturbed you." The rest, he nods to, looking thoughtful. "A good plan. Nothing comes to immediate mind about Victorian ghosts, but," a shrug, "the town has many secrets. I feel certain you'll find something that can help."

"It's okay. You haven't really." If anything his little disturbances have been somewhat helpful. Startling her from her own nightmares or lucid-type dreams. "I'm glad you haven't gotten lost." She rubbed the back of her neck and nodded. "I will see what I find. And let you know what I find. More information to add to your collection." Flashing another smile.

Alexander studies Isolde for a long, silent moment, then nods. "Good. To all of that. Just be careful." He eats the rest of his pizza in silence, and once they're both done, he collects the plates, washes them, and leaves her be, retreating to his office for the time being.