2019-06-17 - We'll Try Together

Isolde was sitting on the floor of the living room, looking through various old newspaper clipping copies and a few books she'd checked out from the library. She was whistling along now and then with Luigi and there was, of course, a nature doctumentary on the TV. Meerkat Manor specifically. Because who doesn't love the drama and intrigue of a Meerkat family? She didn't mind letting Luigi get his way now and again. Especially when it was just background noise for her. Her hair was down, half hiding her features as she focused on making notes on a notepad she had borrowed from Alexander's office. Her flannel was folded neatly on the couch and she was in a gray tank top and a pair of jeans.

Alexander arrives - wet from the rain, as usual. Luigi has gotten more used to Isolde over the days, and is content to sit companionably near her. And steal her newspaper clippings, chewing them enthusiastically until they're taken away from him. Alexander pauses just inside the door, taking in the scene with a curious sort of expression. He pushes his wet hair out of his eyes and wanders in to glance at the show. "It just gives him ideas, you know." Then he glances back to her and smiles. "Easton is fine. How are you?"

Soon. Very soon. Isolde is sure that Luigi will be comfortable enough to sit on her shoulder or her lap. She hopes. Because that would just make her day entirely. There's a giggle at Alexander's words as she finishes off her note and finally looks up at him. "Ideas that he'll want a lady bird around?" Another giggle and she looked back to Luigi. "What do you think? Do you want a lady bird?" Then back to Alexander. "Is it raining?" Of course it was. It was always raining. "I am good. Doing the research for the house. Haven't found anything extremely noteworthy yet though." Relaxing back against the coffee table. "I am glad Easton is okay. What about you? Besides wet."

Speaking of shoulders, once Alexander is properly in the living room, he has a conure on his shoulder, walking its way up to his ear and grumbling directly into it. He takes a seat on the other side of the couch and reaches up to give the bird fond scritches. "He doesn't get a lady bird. One is quite enough." He leans forward a little to look at her clippings. "Find anything interesting? And I'm fine. Woman killed another woman down the street, then died. Probably drugs, but it might be worth looking into. And I did a brief job for a man who thought his brother had been replaced by a lizard man. He hadn't." Both of these are given equal seriousness.

Isolde tilted her head back to watched Alexander sit down, listening to how his day's been. "I'm sorry Luigi. Maybe next time." Another grin. Then she shifted, turning so she could face him better, laying some of the clippings up on the table. "Nothing too interesting yet. But you'll be the first to know!" Nodding emphatically. "That's sad about the women. Drugs or crazy." She drummed her fingers lightly on the table. Eyes widened a bit at the talk of a lizard man. "Well, was he?" Definitely curious to see if lizard men exist!

Alexander shakes his head. "He wasn't. I haven't yet met a lizard man without being very lost. Doesn't mean they don't exist. I haven't seen a ghost, either, and," a wave of his hand towards the newspaper clippings. Luigi starts pulling at his hair, until he reaches up and picks the bird up in one hand, idly turning it over on its back. Luigi, for some reason, seems to enjoy this. "You seem to be having fun, either way. I'd be curious about what you discover."

"You haven't seen a ghost?" Isolde seems rather amazed by this. "Maybe you will see one soon. You should come back to the house with me. Maybe you'll see one." She pondered on that and then made a couple more notes on her notepad. "The researching is good for being awake. Not so good for sleeping." Isolde smiled as she watched Alexander laying Luigi on his back. Then looked curious again. "Does Luigi go to the doctor?"

Alexander sets Luigi upright on the sofa between the two of them, and he paces back and forth, wagging his tail and hoping to get treats. "I never have, no. I don't know exactly why." He rolls his shoulders. "And that's your project, Isolde. I would not interfere. Unless you were hurt, of course." He frowns. And stands abruptly to go into his bedroom. He returns only a few minutes later, but he's changed into a dry sweat shirt and pants. "A vet? He goes on occasion. If I can't deal with something myself. Vets are," he grimaces, "expensive. Particularly for parrots."

Isolde reached out carefully to attempt to give Luigi a little bit of scritches. "I wouldn't mind if you wanted to help though. But you'll hear all about it." Isolde nodded. "And I will try not to get hurt." Watching as he disappeared into his bedroom. When he returned and answered, "I met a vet! The other day. At the diner. His name is Gideon, he can speak French!" She looked down to Luigi a moment, "Et je vais vous apprendre le français aussi." In an affectionate little tone to the bird before looking back to Alexander. "I'm glad he didn't have to go when the kitchen was smoking." Brow furrowing briefly.

"Don't bite, Luigi," Alexander says, sternly. The bird had his beak open in prep to do just that, but at the tone of Alexander's voice, he just clicks his beak a little and tolerates the scritches. Alexander smiles. He glances up. "I remember him. He's a local. Didn't know he spoke French." He nods, curtly, at the last. Then studies her. "You seem to be thinking?"

"Thank you for not biting me Luigi." Isolde mused, letting her hand fall away and relaxed against the couch. "He went to school there I think. That's what he said to the others." Nodding and gave a little shrug of her shoulders. "I don't know. I just don't want bad things happening to good things." Like Luigi. "But what do you do when bad things always happen?" An idle pondering maybe. "The bad plants haven't come back at least...and that is a good thing. "

Alexander looks down at his knees at her questions, his expression going blank. "You survive. You do what you can, but mostly you just live through the bad things. Because dying sucks." He shrugs, and then looks up to study her. "That's what I do, at least. It's worked so far. You might find a better way."

"If I do, I'll share it with you." Isolde promised. "...I think it helps...not being alone." Her voice a little softer. "There's a smaller window for the bad things to get through...because you stay busy. And you can talk about it." Raking a hand through her hair and shaking her head. "Can we get ice cream? Do they deliver ice cream?" Looking back towards the door, because the desire for ice cream did not outweigh her desire to stay in the warm and dry house.

Alexander smiles, one of the warm and open smiles that was rare even in college, and now is rarely seen on his face. "I think it does, too. And if you do, I would appreciate your sharing it." He stretches his legs out, carefully avoiding newspaper clippings or disturbing them. "It's a bit late for ice cream delivery, Isolde. I'm sorry. I'll try to grab some in the morning? What flavor do you like?"

Isolde leans over so she can straighten up the papers and put them in a pile while he stretches out. It was time to take a break anyway. "Ice cream for breakfast?" Peering at him dubiously. Like, did adults actually have ice cream for breakfast? But she also didn't seem opposed to the idea either if that is what he meant. Some books were closed as well and stacked up. All the papers going neatly on top. "Chocolate. Or Moose Tracks." Settling back in her spot. "What kinds do you like?"

Alexander laughs at her expression. "Once won't hurt. Everyone gets a certain number of ice cream breakfasts in their lives, and I suspect neither you nor I have run our allotment out." Once the papers are stacked out of the way, he puts his bare feet up on the table. "Those sound good. I also like butter pecan, and honey." His smile is crooked. "I haven't had ice cream for a while. It's a good idea, Isolde."

Isolde giggled a bit again when he laughed. "This is true. I haven't had ice cream in a long time. Not something I've thought about much. More other pressing things to worry about." She agreed. "Butter pecan could be good. Maybe we can get more pie from the diner." Breakfast of champions right there. "Did you like the apple pie?" She had left a piece of pie for him in his office when she'd come home the other night before just going to sleep.

"Nor I," Alexander agrees, reaching up to rub at his face. "When I came back to Gray Harbor, it was easier to forget a lot of things that were good, once upon a time. And just focus on what was needed to do." He shrugs. "Maybe it's time that stops." He nods, expression indulgent, at the talk of pie. "Sure. Why not? Pie goes well with ice cream, and most pie fillings are fruit. That makes it healthy," he says, his tone light and teasing. "And the apple pie was very good. Just be careful. Sometimes the Diner gets experimental."

"There was a bubbling pie." Isolde said in a conspiratorial whisper sort of tone. "Bennie said not to try it...so I didn't." She studied him for a moment, a little smile on her features still. "Remembering the good things is good. The bad things don't want us to remember them but...we need to." Her smile brightened a little more. "You look better when you smile. I think you should do more things that make you smile."

Alexander's eyes widen a little. "I don't even want to know what was in that pie. Some mysteries were not meant to be unraveled by mortal men." He gestures a little, playful abstract flickers of his hands. His smile, though, disappears as she goes on - which just goes to show that Alexander is bad at following good advice. "You're not wrong, Isolde, about the wisdom of that. Remembering the good. I'll try." A look towards her. "If you agree to try, as well."

"I will try. We will try together. We won't let the bad things bog us down." Isolde leaned over and tapped him ever so lightly on the nose. She likely had noticed by now that he was not a fan of touching people or being touched. Especially if that carried over from knowing him in his college years. However, Isolde also felt like she could get away with this one little thing. "And you will smile more." Speaking sincerely as she watched him intently. Then a little smile cracked on her features again as she settled back on her side of the couch.

Interestingly enough, it was not a thing Alexander much cared about in college - while he was never the most cuddly of people, it's somewhat hard to be a member of a cult where the second favorite activity is sex and not be okay with being touched or touching. This is new, in her experience of him. And, although he visibly tenses when she leans forward, he doesn't jerk away at the light tap. He does stand up, though. "Very well. We'll try together. But, for the moment, I'm going to try to sleep, because succeeding at that will make me smile more." There's the faintest hint of a smile in return. "Take care, Isolde." And then he's gone, retreating to his bedroom.