2019-06-23 - Fluffy Bellies and Missing Children

For Gray Harbor, it's a downright gorgeous sort of day. The sun is setting to the west, turning the bay to scarlet and gold and outlining the ships as if it was being filmed by an Oscar-winning director. The breeze off the ocean is warm and salt-scented, and the people are out in droves to enjoy this. Pretty much every store is bustling, and there are buskers and conmen, and a few enterprising pickpockets out to get their 'fair' share of the tourist dollar. Alexander is also here, walking through the crowd, his hands in his faded jeans pockets, his head ducked, shoulders hunched. He looks back and forth, scanning the crowd, although it's hard to say what for.

The warm summer night is perfect for a lot of things, including doing nothing. Easton is out on the boardwalk, among all the people leaning over the railing apparently just watching the sunset. He has a cigarette in his mouth but from the long strand of ash it looks like he may have forgotten about it. He seems oblivious to the people and pretty much anything around him except for the sunset and the warm breeze. It's almost enough to make him nostalgic for the east coast, for ocean sunrises and actual sandy beaches. Almost.

Easton /stands out/, if you have the eyes to see it. And Alexander, despite his general air of not knowing what the fuck is going on around him sometimes, has very good eyes. He spots Easton from fairly far down the boardwalk, even through the crowd, and he winds his way through the people like a fish through weeds, until he emerges just behind him. "You look like you're thinking." He's not TRYING to sneak up on the man, but neither is he apparently tactful enough to give him warning of his presence before speaking.

Easton doesn't startle or at first even seem to recognize that anyone spoke to him. Eventually though it dawns on him that the voice was talking to him and that he knows it. He slowly turns back to see Alexander and takes the cigarette out of his mouth to agree, "Yea. Thinking about what a fucking idiot I am." He rolls his eyes at himself and then in a slightly more chipper tone asks, "How are ya Alexander?" He's sure to use the full name, even though ever fiber of his being would prefer to shorten it or use a nickname.

Alexander waits, but seems to be about to fade back into the crowd and take the silence as a rejection, when Easton turns around. Alexander hovers uncertainly for a moment until Easton speaks. Then his eyebrows go up. "You shouldn't insult yourself," he says, quite seriously, and moves closer, to lean a hip against the railing beside Easton, careful not to risk brushing against the tourists any more than he has to. He crosses his arms over his chest, and says, "Got burned by a shit slime and banned from a clothing store. It's that kind of week." He lifts his chin and studies Easton for a long moment. "And you? Why the idiot talk?"

Shaking his head Easton says, "I'm not insulting myself. I'm clearly assessing my ass." He is about to continue when Alexander says some words that don't quite make sense in that order, well don't make sense until Easton remembers to apply the Gray Harbor Weird Shit filter. "Shit slime... burned you." He nods slowly and lets that sink into his head before saying, "That sounds ... awful." Yes, he almost said shitty, but he has some self-restraint. "I thought I could do something about that little girl. I literally did jack shit, and then crashed my jeep in the process." he chuckles to himself, "Why I thought I could just waltz in and fix that? I have no idea."

"Yes," Alexander says, tonelessly, to the assessment of awful. He's leaning on the boardwalk railing next to Easton, talking to the man in the midst of a beautiful summer evening teeming with tourists who are chattering back and forth across shops and attractions. His arms are crossed as he studies Easton. "Not the best start. But you're not dead." A pause. "Are you done with it, then?"

It's a great evening to walk a dog. That's exactly what Gideon is doing. The dog in question is a cheerful chocolate lab with a crooked tail and one eye. If that one-time horrible injury bothers the animal at all, it's hard to tell. She wags that crooked tail and watches everything around her, sniffing anything that seems even remotely food-like. "Hey, hey, no...don't..." he reaches down to pull a checkered hot dog wrapper out of the animal's mouth.

See? No apologizing for other people going through crappy things. Easton sticks to the plan just blows out a stream of smoke at the agreement. He agrees, "Yea.." But then catches himself and gives Alexander a confused look. "Yea, I'm not dead, but she sure as shit is." He says it with conviction but immediately looks confused and mistrusting of it. "Wait? It's not over? I kinda thought he being a ghost or whatever was kind of final thing?" He trails off a little at the end, watching the dog and the guy wrestling the papers out of it's mouth.

"Did you check the photographs of the missing child to make sure she matched the description of the girl you saw, Easton?" Alexander asks it casually, his eyes skittishly scanning the crowd, as if someone might jump out and attack them. "Has her body been found?" His eyes light on Gideon and the dog, and one of the rare, real smiles appears. "Dr. Hughes." It's just loud enough that the other man might catch it over the murmur of the crowd, although it's hard to tell if it's a greeting or simply a naming. "He's competent. He's my vet." If he can catch the man's eye, he does nod to him, a jerky sort of thing.

It takes a second for Gideon to realize that was his name he heard over the murmur of the crowd. He looks up and towards Alexander. "Oh, hello." Something about that acknowledgment seems to communicate to the dog that this is friend. The lab promptly drops the wrapper and trots off towards Alexander, the leash slipping from between the vet's fingers. "Oh no, Sandie! Hey, get back here!" He flails over to grab for the end of the leash, nearly colliding with a family with a stroller. He murmurs an apology. "Sorry," and then to the two men. "Sorry." Sandie is not sorry. She's sniffing around for pets and/or treats.

"Uhh.. no?" Easton answers the first question dumbly, both because it never crossed his mind to do that, but also because he's now starting to think that maybe it should have? But still weird. He answers a little more strongly "No." to the second question. He follows Alexander's look and nods. He's kind of come to know what to expect from Alexander in terms of describing people, and actually appreciates the straight forward candor. But then there's a dog and Easton is distracted, he's on his knees petting the dog and ruffling the fur behind his ears as soon as it's near enough.

Alexander gives Easton a look like he might be reassessing 'fucking idiot' status. "Just because you saw a dead girl, doesn't mean the girl you are looking for is dead. There is more than one dead person in the world," he points out, with a patience that might be insulting. "What you saw was trying to scare you off. Why would it scare you away from something that was already done?" The man just lays that out there, then turns to the approaching dog with a warm and uncharacteristic smile. He waits patiently for his turn for dog loving, but when Easton's done, he'll bend down and give Sandie more of the same. No treats, but many pets. "Good dog," he tells her, solemnly. Then glances up at Gideon. "Dr. Hughes. Are you well?"

"Yes, thanks. Sorry about Sandie. She's got an overabundance of enthusiasm and a lack of depth perception. It's a potent combination." Gideon wraps the leather leash around his wrist so it won't slip free again. Sandie is happy for all the attention. She nuzzles in to petting hands and swings that crooked tail back and forth. "Sorry, I'm uh, I'm interrupting something." Then he looks at Alexander, only for a moment before he looks away. "You...you have a bird. Right? The conure?"

Straightening back up, Easton regards Alexander with a thoughtful if semi-blank look. He shakes his head and says, "Yea, that actually does make sense." He isn't insulted by the tone of 'patient professor', but rather realizes that he's got a lot of learning to do about this type of thing. He smiles at Gideon and says, "Nothing to apologize for." He shakes his head as well at the question of whether or not the vet is interrupting. "No, just some small town gossip stuff." Dead ghost girls and haunted mansions eating people, the usual. At the question to Alexander, Easton half turns and looks at him, yea a bird makes sense he decides silently.

"Of course it does," Alexander says with no trace of modesty at all. He stands up after a bit, but his hand will continue to stray down whenever the dog nuzzled around him, and he strokes ears and nose and ruffles fur. None of his usual adverse reaction to touch is on display. He nods to Gideon. "Luigi. I'm sorry I've missed his last check up. Money has been tight." A thoughtful pause. "Do you believe in ghosts, Dr. Hughes?"

As if sensing the attention is going from her, Sandie flops down onto the ground, full belly on display for whichever of the men feels the temptation to pet it. Gideon just sighs at her. "Flirt." Then, he blinks, still avoiding fully looking up. "Ghosts? Like..." the corners of his mouth twitch, "...dead people, or just...weird things slipping through?"

Easton is apparently a sucker for dogs, he kneels down and keeps petting Sadie and telling her how good she is. He looks up at Gideon and is fully prepared for him to disbelieve especially at the first question. He is ready to turn back to the dog when he asks the much more interesting followup. He shrugs and says "Why not both?" But he lets Alexander follow up, it was his question after all.

Alexander leans back against the railing, apparently content to let Easton get the lion's share of the doggy-time, at least for the moment. He considers Gideon, then Easton's response, and there's an odd little jerk of a nod. "Interesting question. Which one of those, if not both, do you believe in, Dr. Hughes?" It's not mocking. If Gideon avoids eye contact, Alexander stares without blinking when he's concentrating on something, and he's concentrating on the vet, now.

The leather leash in Gideon's hand becomes a bit of a worry-stone as he rubs his thumb over the smooth surface. "I think it's naive to deny that things might exist. I mean, who hasn't seen something a little...strange in the fog?" Sadie continues to lie there. There's scars on her belly too, though the fur mostly obscures them. Poor thing has definitely been through something.

"Or in their apartment. Or in creepy-ass haunted houses that eat people?" Easton doesn't really have what one might call a filter. He just blurts those things out and finally stops petting the dog long enough to stand up and introduce himself, "I'm Easton by the way. I'd say I'm not crazy but .. eh. Who knows?" Well, at least he seems at peace about it.

"Easton's not crazy, although he owns an unnecessary number of guns," Alexander says to Gideon, in a tone that suggests he thinks this is reassuring. "But, yes. I've never seen a ghost. I don't doubt those who have." Although, a townie would know that Alexander rarely doubts people who claim to have seen aliens, FEMA concentration camps, or werewolves, either. He takes good care of his bird, though. His gaze flicks back to Easton. "I don't think you should give up on the girl, hungry house or not."

"I uh...do I want to know the story about a house eating people?" He sounds like the answer to that is probably no. And then there's belated introductions. It takes him a second to say, "Gideon," to Easton. "I grew up here. I've seen weird things. I think...nearly everyone probably has, whether they want to admit it or not." He wraps the leash a bit more tightly around his knuckles, but not tight enough to disturb Sandie.

"UN? Necessary?!" Easton manages to sound like someone just called him a nazi who eats babies. He sputters for a bit before pulling out his cigarettes and lighting another one, apparently unable to respond to such a terrible, terrible thing. He nods at Gideon's introduction and says, "I don't know about the house. A little girl disappeared and it's .. well, extra special Gray Harbor style fucked up. " Because a little girl gone missing is by definition fucked up, this is 'special'. He nods at Alexander and says, "Yer right. I just, gotta figure out what the fuck you do with a kid eating house, I guess..?" There's a bit of a leading, do you know the answer to this already inherent in the tone.

"People-eating houses are interesting, Dr. Hughes. Educational. And a little girl is missing." All of this is offered without visible emotion on Alexander's face, or in his voice. He looks down at his feet. "Isolde was doing research. You might ask her if she found anything. I can give you her number. I don't know the details, but I would probably go back. If someone wants to keep you away from something, it usually means you want to push harder." And this is why Alexander is so popular with local cops.

Something about the details of the conversation has made Gideon uncomfortable. Well. More uncomfortable than his natural, perpetual state. It's hard to say if it's ghosts, the little girl, the talk of guns, or some combination of all three. "I uh, I should get her home." Never mind Sandie is splayed out at Easton's feet and seems pretty comfy. He gives the dog's leash a little tug. It takes a second to get her up.

Easton doesn't judge Gideon for being uncomfortable about the conversation, it's not exactly the most normal of easy breazy conversations. He just nods to him, in understanding that yea, it's fine if he would rather bail. He turns to Alexander and says "Yea, I'd like that. I should thank her for saving my ass anyway or at least calling someone to." He smirks at the statement about not staying away from things people want you to. "That's ... one way to look at it."

Alexander stares at Gideon. He doesn't seem surprised that the vet is wanting to absent himself from the conversation, but there is the slightest air of disappointment about him, as if he'd expected Gideon to find talk of ghosts and missing children to be thrilling. He sighs, then bends down to give Sandie another fond ruffle of the ears. "You remain a very good dog," he tells her with all the warmth his voice usually lacks. Then straightens, and nods to Easton. "It is, and you should." A glance back to Gideon. "It was nice to see you, Dr. Hughes."

One stares, the other avoids eye contact, and the other looks at people in a human way. They're the three bears of human interaction. Gideon nods, head turned, cornering a gaze and meeting eyes with Alexander in only the most sideways of ways. "And you. And nice to meet you," the second to Easton. "Have a good evening." He lets out a soft little whistle and Sandie is suddenly full of pep again and trotting ahead of the vet as they head down the path.