2019-06-23 - A Normal Night Out

It's a beautiful day in Gray Harbor, and the city doesn't get a lot of those. It tends to make people frisky and bouncy and happy. It seems to have made Alexander twitchy and nervous, startling each time Luigi twitters unexpectedly, or with every bang of a tire hitting a pothole. Finally, he throws himself down on the couch next to Isolde and suggests they go out. For pizza. Everyone likes pizza.

Assuming she didn't turn him down cruelly, they've walked to Pew Pew Pie under the warm summer sun. Thanks to the breeze, it wasn't even that sweaty or unpleasant, and when they're shown to a booth, Alexander waits for her to choose her preferred side before settling in. "Do you like video games? I never asked. I'm sorry. I know you like pizza."

Isolde was liking the turn of the weather. After that storm she was in no hurry to see more rain. She was brightening up some because she got a couple leads of some odd jobs she might be able to do. She just had to talk to people. Also it didn't take the red head long to realize she needed a 'resume' to apply for anything. So, you know, that was going to be a project all its own when she got around to it. It was a good thing that Alexander suggested they go out for dinner because she'd been about to drag him outside herself. She adored him, but his nervous twitches and ticks were about to start making her her twitch.

The walk had been pleasant and she slid into the left side of the booth, leaning on the table. "I don't know." To the question about liking video games. "I haven't played much." Looking towards the other side of the restaurant where the arcade was. Then back to Alexander with a smile. "Looks fun though. Are we going to play them?"

"I like them," Alexander admits. "There's no...extraneous information, and you can focus on what's in front of you. Action. Reaction. It's soothing." His right hand twitches, drumming his fingers on the tabletop in little fits and starts, nothing that has a real rhythm associated with it. He watches her. "And fun. It's fun. If you want to try it. Since it'll take a while for the pizza to cook." He goes silent as someone comes to take their drink orders. But when they're gone, he adds, "I should apologize, Isolde. For leaving you in the storm. I'm not used to having someone there. I should have asked if you wanted to come with me, or stayed."

Isolde studies him carefully, eyes flitting from his face to his fingers, then back up. "I probably played some in the before." She pushed a hand through her hair and offered a little smile. "I'd like to try. Good way to pass the time." She agreed. There was a little shrug and a pause when he apologized. "It's okay. I didn't think I could move. Long time since I'd seen weather so bad." She rested her chin in her hands. "It was scary. But you came home. Are you feeling better? The burns looked bad."

"In the before." Alexander considers her, falling silent again for the arrival of their drinks. He takes his soda, and plays with the straw. "I don't know much about you. You don't have to say. I'm not trying to pry. Just...I don't. And I would like to, if you ever want to talk about it." He takes a sip, studies her, offers a sneaky little smile. "Summer comes in with a bang. It's usually nice, though. Usually." He gives the door to the restaurant another of those twitchy looks, before forcing his attention back to her. "I'm better. It's...I've had worse. It just smelled terrible."

There's another little shrug from Isolde. "There's lots of befores." She drummed her fingers lightly on the table. "Probably sometime in the before with you. No. Wait." Her brow furrowed, like she was trying to pull the right string of words together. "Before the cult Dream. Sometime in the before of that." When was still plenty of time, but it was just how Isolde tended to keep track of things. 'Before this terrible thing happened' or 'Before that scarring event'. Because they stood out when other things were just a blur. "I can share. There's just lots...so you need to be specific." She had chosen sweet tea for herself and had wrapped her hands around the glass lightly but hadn't drunk anything from it yet. "I hope so. It's pretty today. I don't want anymore rain for a long time." Another shake of her head and then giggled. "...It smelled awful. But, good that you're better."

Alexander nods, as if this method of keeping track of things makes perfect sense to him. "You're going to have to enjoy the two months or so where the rain percentage falls under fifty percent," he says, dryly. "Make the most of it. We'll go out to the Boardwalk one day, maybe. Or the beach. If you like." He frowns, brow furrowing as he studies her. "Where are you from? In the first before? Probably not Eugene."

"Yes! The beach. And the boardwalk. For walking and swimming. Not for sleeping." Isolde nodded matter-of-factly. Seeming pleased with this idea he's suggested. She fell quiet again, thinking about it. "Portland. Haven't been there again in a long time." Her parents probably thought she was dead by now, or maybe a fate worse than death. "Are you from Eugene?" Taking a sip of her tea now. "Do you have many befores?"

"Not for sleeping," Alexander agrees, tonelessly. "The seagulls get jealous. We'll do that, then. There's a good fish place." He makes a thoughtful noise, then shakes his head. "No. I was born here. My parents still live here. Their parents died here, and their parents before them." He shrugs. "It's hard to escape Gray Harbor once you get stuck here." A pause. "Not a warning. Just an observation. If you like your towns with slightly fewer murderous alternate dimensions." A couple passing by catch only the end of that and give them both a weird look; Alexander ignores it.

"Do they? Seagulls are mean, I wouldn't want to make them jealous." Isolde decided. Her brow furrowed briefly, as if trying to recall something. Had he told her that already? That he was from here? Maybe. It was easy to forget things. "Are they nice?" His parents. Head tilting in thought. "...It's a gray place, but it's okay. Most people seem nice." Not that she'd really met a whole lot of them, But the ones she had were okay. She too ignores the couple, because they aren't part of the conversation. "Murderous alternate dimensions sound bad." Isolde blinked a bit. "But always you have to sacrifice something no matter where you go."

"My parents?" Alexander falls silent for a while. Then he nods. "Yes. They're very nice. And most people are...people. Nice and nasty all muddled up." A shrug, and a glance down at the menu. "You do, yes. And it's nice having you here. You're a good roommate," he adds, and it's just a little bit teasing. "Better one than I am, probably. What sort of pizza do you want?"

"Everyone's a little gray." Isolde agreed and smiled again. "You're an okay roommate." Probably teasing him in return. "...I'm grateful you're letting me stay." Looking down at the menu a moment when she took another sip of her tea. "Pepperoni and sausage?" Is suggested as she looked up at him again. "And extra cheese?" Her hands released the glass finally. "What kind of games do they have here?"

Alexander frowns. "Don't be grateful. There's no need to be grateful." He nods, briskly, to the decision of the pizza, seeming perfectly okay with that. "And I'm not sure. Newish place. Haven't been here." Once the order is in, he slides out of the booth and waits for her, shoulders hunched, but something almost playful underneath the wariness of his usual expression. "Want to go and see?"

There's that stare again. A little quizzical. Eventually one day she'd ask the questions she was thinking. For now though, the look fades and she slides out of her seat when he does. "Yes! Let's see the games." There were many lights and colors and sounds from the arcade side, which were appealing. It wasn't too often that a cacaophony of things was a good thing. She didn't take his hand to drag him over towards the arcade. Instead giving a light tug to his sleeve as she walked just a few steps ahead of him, curious to see what all the arcade had in store.

Alexander doesn't flinch away from the tug on his sleeve, despite how goddamned twitchy he's been of late, but rather slouches along behind her with the closest to enthusiasm he shows for anything that doesn't involve homicide or autopsies. His eyes flick back and forth across the machines with interest. "Pinball? PacMan? I suck at shooters, but if you really wanna try and break open some zombie brains, I'll do my best." A nod at the Resident Evil shooting game. "Space Invaders, if you want to start retro."

Isolde's fingers trail over some of the machines. So many options! "No shooters." Because she was also likely terrible at them. "Let's do this one." One of the pinball machines with neon colors and maybe some kind of space theme of its own. She peered at the display, pushing a couple of the buttons even though the game wasn't started yet. Mostly just curious. "How do we start it?" Stepping back to also check perhaps for a coin or token slot. "You pick the next game."

"Deal." Alexander then disappears for a moment, fading back into the crowd to find the change machine. He changes out several ones for a fistful of quarters and returns, dividing them out equally. Her stack is placed on one side of the machine. He points to the slots. "One quarter in there, and I put in a quarter in the other slot. We play alternating. You picked the game, you go first." He slips his quarter in the slot he pointed out for himself. Then gives her a thoughtful look. "Family? Do you have any?" Since she said he could ask.

Isolde waits patiently for Alexander to return, watching a few of the other patrons. She carefully picks up one of the quarters from her stack before putting the others in the pocket of her flannel. If she knew anything about pinball machines it's probably that they weren't always stable. No one wanted quarters flying everywhere. The quarter gets put in and the 'START' button pressed. A little grin lighting her features as the machine came to life. So exciting! She did a few test presses of the flippers before launching the pinball. "I don't know." She said focusing on the pinballs. "My parents. Not sure about brothers and sisters." It's completely possible her parents had another kid or two running around. Either that came after she left or that she honestly didn't remember. "Do you?" Because it was only fair to answer a question after you've asked one.

It ddn't take long for the pinball to fall back and for Alexander's turn to be up. Clearly Isolde had a long way to go before she was a pinball wizard.

"Brothers and sisters?" Alexander shakes his head. His voice is very dry as he says, "I'm pretty sure that once my parents realized they'd created, they decided not to risk it again." He watches the pinball bounce and the lights flash, his expression animated and even a little joyful. "Why'd you leave? In the first before." His eyes flick back to her, and despite the uncharacteristic enjoyment, the gaze is the same: intense, weighing, even a little flat in its focus. But when his turn comes, it's broken as he steps forward and takes the flippers.

He's not any better than she is, though, and their scores are about even when he curses cheerfully under his breath as the ball shoots RIGHT between the two bottom paddles, and is lost.

Isolde has a look of mock disappointment when her turn ends, but she's happy to step aside and watch Alexander play. Thinking about his question. It was a good one. "I was supposed to be better. But I wasn't. I thought leaving would make me better." But it didn't. "And I was a burden." Even if her parents acted like she wasn't. Isolde was certain they'd be happier with her gone. "Sometimes I don't know if they're real. So I haven't been back." Her eyes had stayed on the pinball machine as she spoke, silently rooting for him. "Awww" When the pinball finally fell. Looking to Alexander again with another smile. "What one is next?"

"It's difficult to be a burden when you don't mean to be. When you try not to be, but the things that make you one won't stop, and everything everyone's telling you doesn't work, but the things that do work, nobody wants you to do." It's a toneless observation, not sympathetic, except in that offhand way that acceptance of a situation can be sympathetic. Alexander steps back from the machine and scans the arcade, not looking at her, even as he says, "Want me to see if they're real? If they have records, anyway. I can look. When you're ready. If you're ready." Then he nods at a brightly colored cabinet. "Let's play PacMan." He strides in that direction, and she can apparently either follow or not.

"Exactly." Apparently she agrees with Alexander's assement wholeheartedly. One hand has slid into her pocket and is fiddling with the quarters. "Maybe." Is all that's offered to looking into her parents. "One day." Not today. Today was pizza and games. She watches him a moment longer and then looks towards the the PacMan machine. Following along, "Is that why you left?" Peering at the bright machine, watching the little ghosts wiggle in their 'cage' at the center of the maze. "Because it might help?"

Alexander slips in a quarter, and waits for her to do the same, before he takes up the sticks on one side of the machine. THis is one of the GOOD ones, and it allows multiplayer, so he settles in to wait for her. "Yeah." He fiddles with one of the buttons, tracing the evidence of wear on the plastic. "I had to get out of Gray Harbor or bad shit was going to happen. Worse. Worse shit. Tried running away a couple of times, but it never really stuck, so I got college instead." He gives her a quick smile and sidelong look, because she mostly knows how THAT worked out. "It was better. Away from here. But I ran into some trouble after, and didn't really have a place to think about except home. Home was easy." A pause. "Tried to kill me or make me kill myself periodically, but easy."

Alexander adds, after a moment. "Where'd you GO, Isolde? You just cleared out, and nobody knew where or who you'd even been. Really."

Isolde pops the quarter in and settles beside him, examining the controls for a moment and then looking back up to the screen. Listening to him, though keeping her attention to the game as they started to play. Nodding in understanding. "Lots of bad things follow. But still glad I left. So no one had to see." Her go insane. Peeking back at him when he mentioned college, she nodded again. "Was a temporary good thing? Until it was a bad thing."

Isolde falls silent again when he asks where she went. Focusing on the game, though he was winning. "To the other place. It was my fault." It really wasn't, that whole imagined blood bath and the not-so-imaginary injuries endured. But she thought it was. "Didn't want you getting hurt more. Or anyone. It took me near the train station. So I went to the next city." It was unsurprising that no one really knew her. She wasn't actually a student on the campus and most of her time had been spent with people in the cult hangout or with Alexander.

"Most things are temporary. Good and bad," Alexander offers, with a shrug. His eyes remain on the screen - there are ghosts to avoid, and then to DEVOUR. But his expression is more grave than joyful, despite the quick movements of his hands. "And if you mean when we got lost...Isolde, that wasn't your fault. Something hunts us. Hurts us. It's their fault." His voice is low, hushed but holding a vicious anger for a moment. "Don't let them make you think you cause the hurt." He glances over at her. "Save the guilt for when you actually fuck up. Okay?"

"I wish the good things weren't temporary." But Alexander was right. Everything was temporary. Life was temporary. She made a bit of an involuntary squeak as one of the ghosts nearly got her and she made a sharp left turn to get away from it. Isolde looked over at him finally, properly, when he said it wasn't her fault and to save the guilt. This did, unfortunately, result in the ghost catching up to her. "Their fault." Clearly she wasn't just going to accept their transfer of burden right away. Sure maybe they caused it but maybe she was the reason they came at all. "The shadows are bad...I will try not to feel guilty for what they do."

No one could say that Alexander was an EXPERT at PacMan, despite his frowning concentration. He does his best, but only lasts a little longer than Isolde before three ghosts box him into a corner and CHOMP. His eyes narrow. You'll get yours, ghosts. You'll get yours.

Then he turns to Isolde and smiles, just a little. "So do I. But they're not. We survive, though. And maybe make more good things." He studies her expression, and gives a jerky little nod. "Try. It's hard. I know." He turns back to the game as the next life starts, and this time seems determined to get revenge. Om nom nom. "Why'd you hook up with the Brethren? Always kinda wondered."

"True. Though it's hard sometimes. But we find more good things." Isolde agreed as she too resumed her focus on the game. She seemed to be getting the hang of the game a little more! And there was a little smile on her features again, relaxing some. "The drugs. At first." Was her easy enough answer. "I'd been hanging around the campus." Read: Sneaking in to various dorm buildings and finding places to crash, shower, and eat and pretending to be a student.

"I think Jenny brought me the first time." Jenny had, of course, been another cult member and Isolde was more than willing to try just about anything except death to make it all stop. "Stayed for the people." One person mostly. Him. And their research with the seals and trying to make them work.

"There were a lot of drugs," Alexander admits, sounding more amused than scornful, even though he was one of the few who spent a lot more time sober than high. And actually went to class and turned in homework, and occasionally got other people to do so, as well. Only in a cult could young!Alexander be the responsible one, really. "I remember Jenny." Although he sounds startled, like he hasn't thought about her in years. Which he hasn't. His gaze slips sideways once he's got a power pellet and can go on a ghost eating spree without fear. "I'm glad you did. You're one of the few who had any sort of intellectual curiosity. And didn't insist on talking in Latin all the fucking time." Damned Classics students.

"So many drugs." Isolde giggled at the thought. "And orgies." Her nose wrinkled. Of course she'd hooked up with people but she hadn't actually participated much in the orgy side of that. Too many bodies. Glancing towards him when he said she was glad she stayed, then back to the game! "Me too. It was a change of pace. It was needed." She dodged her PacMan down to the right eating up as many of the dots as she could while he went ghost eating. Aiming to try and get a cherry of her own. There was a laugh then, when he talked about the Latin students. "They were terrible." And typically whenever they tried to get Isolde in on a conversation about learning Latin or about Latin, she would just speak French and act like she had no idea what they were saying. "They thought they were cool..." And that was their first mistak

"And orgies," Alexander echoes, with a brief and rusty laugh. He was, like a lot of early twenties guys, nowhere near opposed to the Brethren's second favorite 'sacred' activity. And fairly popular for hookups as well - there are some benefits to being a powerful empath that they don't teach you about in school. It was only in trying to take things beyond the physical that usually ended up with his partners, male or female, tossing things at his head and storming out of dorm rooms.

There's another, more cheerful, laugh at her opinion of the Classics students. "They did their best to be cool. But they failed. I remember," his expression lights up, "I remember you burying Thomas in French when he tried to be an asshole about being a grad student." A flicker of curiosity. "You're from Portland you said. Where'd you learn French?"

Isolde had been strange enough even back then that most all those she hooked up with kept it just like that. A hook up. Which suited the red head fine. Feelings were weird and people were complicated and she had enough things to worry about without adding extra things to the mix. She started giggling again at the mention of Thomas. So many people she hadn't thought about in forever. "Thomas was an asshole about everything." Stated matter-of-factly as she died again. Leaning lightly against the machine as she watched his playing. And the poor guy was often met with all French, and most of it none too friendly. "My mom." To where she learned French. "She's from France."

Isolde's giggles are infectious, and are joined by Alexander's low chuckles. He laughs like he's worried someone's going to punish him for it, but it IS a real laugh. "He was. I always assumed he'd end up being a politician of some sort. He hated that he didn't know what you were saying," he adds, with an amused shake of his head. The information offered is taken in with a thoughtful nod. And then he dies, and mutters, "Fuck you, ghosts," under his breath. At the counter, their order number is called out, so he pushes away from the cabinet, and smiles at her. "Ready for pizza?"

"And I loved that he didn't." Isolde grinned for a moment, looking up at him and then back to the screen when he died. "Aww so close." Straightening when the number is called and nodded. "Ready!" She took him by the edge of his sleeve again so they could go retrieve their pizza and return to their seats. Once they were settled back in the booth Isolde sighed contentedly, taking another sip of her tea. "This is fun. I'm happy we came here. Do you know any other languages?"

"I'd feel bad for him, but he really brought it on himself," Alexander says, placidly. He allows himself to be pulled on without protest, and grabs the serving tray of pizza, bringing it back to the seats. He immediately claims a couple of slices for his own, and loads them up with parm and red pepper flakes. "I agree. I haven't done anything like this in," a long pause, "a very long while. Thank you for coming with me." An inclination of his head. Then he coughs, and looks briefly embarassed. "Latin, actually. And Greek." Uncool or not, he DID spend a lot of time with the pretentious Classics students.

"Very long time. Thank you for inviting me." Isolde takes a careful bite of her own slice and 'mmm's because it's good pizza! She watches him a moment, swallowing, and gave him another grin when he said he knew Latin and Greek. "You get a pass on the Latin because you're cute." Teasing him lightly. "Greek is neat. I don't know any though. Or anything besides the French." Though didn't seem too bothered by that. "Maybe you can teach me some words sometime." Of Greek, taking another bite of her pizza.

Alexander snorts with amusement. "Your assessment is biased," he says, blandly. Then, "If you want to learn. I wouldn't mind learning French. If you want to teach." He eats mechanically, his attention focused more on her, brow furrowed, dark eyes intent. "How are you feeling? With summer here. It usually gets better, in summer." Not that anyone would know it by Alexander's continued twitchiness.

"I mean. A little maybe." Isolde chuckled and took another couple bites of pizza. "We can teach each other." She agreed. Shifting a bit to tuck a leg up under her other leg as she sat. Getting a little more comfortable. "I am okay. Get a little antsy sometimes and still have bad dreams but, the waking time is mostly good." She confirmed.

"Good. Good." And yet, Alexander doesn't SOUND like it's good. He actually sounds a little -- not disappointed, but perhaps frustrated. He shakes his head, as if trying to dismiss something inside his own head, and takes an overly enthusiastic bite of hot pizza. And then has to do the 'hot cheese in my mouuuuth' dance in his seat while he tries to blow and cool it down. Once that's handled, he says, "House!" Then takes a deep breath, tries again. "What about the house and the missing girl. Did you find anything?"

Those wild blue eyes studied Alexander a moment longer. "What's wrong?" Peering at him. "You can talk to me." Isolde may or may not have had to cover her face briefly to stifle a laugh at his expression from the bite he took of the pizza. Once they had both recovered she shook her head. "Nothing helpful." A little frown. "I think seeing it again will be better."

"It's probably paranoia. If no one feels it but me, then it's probably paranoia," Alexander mutters, rubbing at his head. He doesn't meet her eyes. "It doesn't feel right. The city. Not like summer usually feels." He shrugs, helplessly. "It's hard to explain, Isolde. I was hoping...but maybe you haven't been here long enough." Or maybe he's just being crazypants. The awareness that it's a 50/50 call is clear on his face as he worries over it. And the pizza. With an effort, he focuses back on her. "But that's probably a good idea. I gave Easton your number. He knows you called 911, and he has a lot of guns. Go with him."

Isolde looked a little concerned as he elaborated. "Does it feel like a bad thing? I will keep an eye out." She assured him. For anything strange or bad. Because Isolde didn't think he was crazy. If he thought something was going on, it was at least worth being aware of. "I am glad Easton is okay." She nodded. "I will go with him and with the guns." A beat of pause. "Hopefully we do not need to use them."

"I don't...I don't know." Alexander blows out a frustrated breath, running his hands through his hair. "It's like something. Something is OUT there, but I don't know what, and I can't find where. Maybe it's everywhere? But nothing. No evidence. Just a feeling. Maybe I've just gotten lost too many times of late." His voice drops into something dry and self-mocking. "Even for me, getting nearly killed several times a month is unusual." There's a shake of his head, and his eyes stray to the door, as if waiting for his Something to come through. "Just be careful, Isolde. And take care of Easton. He has guns, but not a lot of experience with these things."

Isolde considers his words, idly looking around the restaurant as if maybe also trying to catch a glimpse of what could be out there. "Maybe it's that," Getting lost. "Or maybe the thing is very good at hiding." There was still a touch of concern on her features. "You should be careful too - with all the near dying you have been doing." She finished off her slice of pizza and nodded about Easton. "I will try." To keep him safe. Sometimes she could barely keep herself safe. But Easton was Alexander's friend, and he had been at the house so she would try her best.

"I don't know which one I would prefer," Alexander confesses. He waggles his crust at her. "And I'm fine. Not dead yet." He crunches into the remains of the slice, swallows, and adds, "I ruined the fun, with talk of paranoia and things. Sorry. Rusty where people are concerned. Friends." He picks up another slice. "But it's been nice. This has been nice. We should do it again."

"I wouldn't either." Isolde pondered. Both options had good and bad sides. She smiled brightly to him then. "Nothing is ruined. It's still fun." Isolde grabbed another slice for herself and tried some red pepper flakes on it. "We should! Maybe we can eat on the beach soon." She suggested. "Can we play more games before we leave?"

Alexander relaxes, a little, at her reassurance. "I'm glad. And sure." He polishes off his second slice faster than his first. "And we'll go by Fried Fish when it's not too hot. Have some fish on the beach or something." He takes another long look at the door, before shaking himself out of it, and standing up with an abrupt jerk. "Let's go kill space invaders. That always makes things better." He grins, brief and bright, like summer lightning.