2019-06-23 - Shiny Happy People

It's late night on the Boardwalk, and with the recently improved summer weather, people are out and about, meandering through the stalls getting food that is terrible for them. There are a few tourists who are picking up souveniers -- bits of shell jewelry and other bits and bobs to take home to their loved ones who will ask "From where?" because Gray Harbor is not the world's premiere tourist destination, after all.

The last tour of the night is over, and the boats are docked down at the pier, so Tobin is left to hsi own devices, and not in the mood to go back home to the empty house, so instead he wanders the boardwalk, as he is prone to do from time to time, and tears a hunk off of a giant pretzel the size of his face, pausing to lean up against a railing and just watch people go by.

After midnight, the song goes. Harper is not wearing her commonly seen cardigan-driven wardrobe tonight. Her hair is piled in a messy knot atop her head and she looks sleepy, as though efforts at bed were attempted and failed. So a walk down on the boardwalk is where her feet lead her. ( https://www.pinterest.com/pin/493073859203795469/ ) Indirectly those late night footsteps lead her to toward Tobin before she catches sight of the familiar form and dark hair. "Tobin Gilford," she states, her voice carrying better even though it's not so loud, due to the proximity of water and the lay of the land, as it were. The name is spoken as if in accusation, though the expression from the librarian is warm if missing her broad smile and energetic demeanor just yet.

Without invitation, she strolls right up to the man and the railing and leans forward on it against folded arms, her face turned to the side to regard the man. "It's been too long. I owe you muffins, quick-bread, or a casserole. Though my hot-chocolate may be the best in Gray Harbor." Which shall it be? is the implied query-demand. She glances down at the torn pretzel. "Not knotted dough, at least."

Ignacio wasn't about to ask his brother where things are or how to get there. He might argue it's because he's from New York and admitting being lost in a small town is something he won't cop to. Really he's put Raf out enough, and he's happy entertaining himself with figuring out how to get around with no car, no directions, and so he bothered with some light hitchhiking and Google maps.

He texts the number Raf gave him to go find Tobin and starts looking around getting nearer. He stops not expecting to see Ms. Price, Librarian at Large also present. He finds his way over: Jeans, Ramones T-Shirt, moto jacket. The usual. "Hell, you really do know everyone." That slow cowboy gait brings him over with a lopsided grin, "So you're the guy, huh?" He offers a hand to Tobin, "Raf sent me to find you. Nice to put a face to a name."

"Harper Price," Tobin replies to her in a very serious tone to match her accusatory one before one brow arches slightly and a smile creeps over his expression. When she comes over to lean nearby he leans over and bumps his shoulder against her own then offers out the pretzel in her direction. "Want a bite? Or are you judging my snacking choices?" He considers the offer though and says, "Muffins. Definitely muffins." That wasn't even a hard choice. He is apparently baked-goods-powered.

When Ignacio wanders up, he grins a little bit curiously and says, "So you're the brother, huh?" He takes the offered hand and gives it a shake. "Depends on which guy you're looking for." He then glances over toward Harper and queries, "You've met?"

That's the tipping point. Right there: that shoulder bump. And Harper's smile sparks in her sleepy, brown eyes before her lips curve upward, as she returns the shoulder bump. "What kind of muff-" she begins, then hears a newly-familiar Queens-accented voice. She so would have taken an offered bite of the salty-dough goodness. But then Spaniard one-of-two approaches and distracts her attention. "de Santos," she both greets and then looks between the men. "It sounds as if you've been not-quite-introduced, and not-quite-not. de Santos, this is Tobin. Tobin, this is our newest addition to the population number on the city limits sign." She hushes her voice and leans toward Tobin to murmur, "Don't ask him what he does. It's secret. Need to know basis."

She lets Ignacio do his appraising and surmising of Tobin, then utters a little sound of amusement at Iggy's statement about who she does and does not know. "We went to school together," a partial explanation. Argument that she doesn't know everyone in town? Not as much. She doesn't step away from Tobin as the man is forced to turn if he's going to shake Iggy's hand. She just peers over her shoulder for now, a pleasant look on her tired face. Back to Tobin. "Yep," they've met. "At the library." The hub of social life in Gray Harbor, if Harper has anything to say about it.

Ignacio glances to Harper with a wry grin glancing down to shoes and back up again with a bemused, "Agent Price and I have met." There's a conspiracy here, to be sure. He does answer Tobin grinning as Harper informs Tobin of the newest addition to the populace, "I've been informed I'm being assimilated." Yeah, this one is the smart ass. "She ferreted me me out like a truffle, man. Hard to hide in this town." He shakes his head as if he were trying so damn hard too. "Yeah I'd say something menacing and brotherly buuuut no one would take me serious." And that's God's own truth. "So how's it goin? He said you could use some weekend help. I mean I got nothin else goin on the weekends. lemme know. I can think of a lot worse ways to spend the summer than on a boat hangin out with people."

When Harper smiles, Tobin's grin grows a little bit. He tears off a piece from the pretzel and hands it to her, since she's become distracted by the approaching Spaniard. Though he chuckles at the hushed murmur regarding the confidentiality of Ignacio's employment. "Is that so?" he inquires, amusement touching his lips. "It was my understanding that he was in need of employment, and that's why Rafael sent him my way." His gaze tips back toward Ignacio then.

There's a little smile at the mention of brotherly menace, and he glances down for a moment before looking up again. Yep, there might be the slightest hint of color near the tips of his ears for a moment before he addresses the other topic at hand, "Yeah, now that the weather is getting nice, we're going to see more tourists and we'll likely have both boats running for a while. I'll need someone who can do the tours while I'm handling the bigger boat. It's basically scripted with a handful of stories you can swap in to keep it a little different from tour to tour. Or if you want, you can always invite Alexander along. He has a habit of just telling his own stories and I don't stop him. The tourists dig them."

If Harper eventually catches on about the brother, 'so you're the one' and 'menacing', it's far later than she would typically. An uptipped brow to Tobin, then she's turning to lean back on what she was pressing forward against. Not following after Tobin if he steps away, resting elbows behind her on the rail and blinking slowly as if in a very slow-motion battle with sleep or the lack thereof. The relentless smile Iggy encountered at the library is muted tonight. But perhaps it's the late-night lighting and garish flashes of colors from the boardwalk. Probably not. "I don't get often compared to French pigs, so thanks for that, de Santos. As for my ferreting, I take great pride in my abilities in that realm, all truffles aside." Her murmur, at least, is as warm as it was in her sanct--library.

She takes the offered piece of salty, soft pretzel with a little murmur of appreciation, lifts it and takes a bite, looking between the two men as she chews. The plot thickens. A job working for Tobin. Mariners unite. And not the baseball team. Harper may be tired, but she doesn't miss the tinge of color that follows the initial conversation. Delight flashes briefly behind those tired, brown eyes. Alexander. And his stories. Harper actually laughs, though it's a distracted sound easily stolen by the summer breeze. To Iggy, "You didn't mention sea navigation in your skill set." As if it were crucial for his library card receipt that she know such things. Perhaps it's more the cruise director and less the captain position that Tobin refers to. Either way, Harpers-need-to-know.

Ignacio seems entirely satisfied with the reaction he gets from Tobin. Mischief managed. So, so pleased with himself. When HArper makes the comment about French pigs he retorts, utterly unphased and undaunted, "Hey, I'm a cook. Those are valuable and little piggies are adorable. Total compliment." Alexander's mention gets a grin and a nod. "Oh that sounds like fun."

Being called out on being a Mariner now gets a blink and a blank stare, and another blink to Harper. "What? Literary Russian spies has=ve a huge skill kit. I assumed you knew." THe British no longer have the market on bold faced deadpan BS. Go, team Spain. woo. "Also no one said I knew where I was going, hence the talking and not the driving." The half grin slowly reforms.

Tobin doesn't seem to be going anywhere. He remains leaning back against the railing next to Harper, plucking at bits of his pretzel. He catches the uptipped brow, and gives her a little shrug and a smile before saying, "Rafael, his brother, and I are.. It's new. We've only had coffee a couple of times." So new he's still a little tentative about it, as though not wanting to overstep and call it something they haven't actually decided whether to call it or not. He chuckles a little bit about the French pigs and says, "Those are some seriously valuable little piggies, there, though, from what I understand." Then he nods between them both and says, "Someone else will be doing the driving. I just need someone who can stand up and entertain the tourists, tell them some stories along the trip, explain where the life vests are, that sort of thing, so that I can handle the big boat when we're double-booked, and so I can have a day off every so often." He grins.

Iggy's culinary excuse and skill-set addition earns him an uptipping of Harper's brows as she does another brown-eyed full-body scan of the New Yorker as if to fit that in somehow, somewhere on his person. "Compliments are different in New York, I think." Still, compliment accepted quite likely. To Iggy, "You've met Alexander, de Santos? What did I tell you. Two weeks and you'll be able to make social topography maps of Gray Harbor." Now she learns that the spy angle has a Russian bent. Interesting. "Talking beats driving every time," Harper agrees obliquely.

Then Tobin's explaining a few things. "New is fun," Harper observes quietly. "Breathless, too." She doesn't push, tasting that tentative manner in her high school friend. Finally, she looks back to Iggy as Tobin explains the job a bit more. "I think he'd be quite facile at that," is her two-cents. "I haven't been on a harbor tour in ages," she remarks to Tobin. "Let me know next time you're going out and the boat is underbooked." Because being /on/ the tour with Tobin incredibly busy would be self-defeating to her friendly purposes. "What kind of muffins?" Finally the question is completed.

Ignacio shakes his head, "Iiii do not. You're like the third official person I met." He squints sidelong to the librarian, while he puts on airs for the sake of them, "Look, don't begrudge their good taste and resourcefulness. They have feelings." Thumbs hook into back pockets while they catch up and this buys the errant New Yorker opportunity to wander absolutely not far and get a look around. "Sure, Tobin. Sounds good to me, just do me a favor." That half-grin goes wry, "Tell Raf I agreed to get paid in lunch." Because that will definitely give his brother hives.

Tobin laughs just a little bit at compliments being different in New York, tearing off another hunk of the pretzel and offering it out to Ignacio as well. May as well share with everyone. It's a huge pretzel, anyway. "Well, to be fair, making out a social topography map of a small town isn't that hard. Just drop everyone's name into the middle and make a big old spaghetti scribble and you've pretty much got it." He smiles again and nods a little bit at her comments, but he also doesn't offer more for the time being. Instead he says, "You know you can come out and join me whenever you like. Usually the morning tours are less busy than the mid-afternoon and evening ones." Then he pauses and considers the very important question of muffins, "Orange cranberry," he says, "Or blueberry."

He laughs a little bit at Ignacio and says, "Sure. I'll tell him that you agreed to work for meals. Though you will actually get both lunch on the boat and a paycheck. It won't be a huge paycheck, we barely make enough just to stay afloat and make it through the off season, but it'll help toward rent." He chuckles, "He said I'd like you. He was not wrong."

"Don't deny the 'unofficial people' their fair shake," Harper chides with a faint smile. "They count, too. Sometimes more than you'd expect." There's a strange flavor of serious to the teasing remark. Looking between the men, Harper asks, "Are you and your brother --" Raf that is. "-- much alike?" The apparent brotherly playfulness, even if from just one side, draws a newly wistful smile to Harper's face. She finishes off the last of the piece of pretzel Tobin shared with her.

Tobin's description of social topography in Gray Harbor drags an amused look from Harper, followed after a pause by some absent-minded laughter. "Spot on, Tobin. As always." To the information about which tours are less populated, Harper nods. "I'll switch shifts with Melinda one morning this week if you'll be around." To some it might seem as though she is flirting with Tobin, but then that's simply how-Harper-is. The cherry on top is that it seems to be genuine, the warmth. "Mmmn. Orange-cranberry are my favorite. You might get fewer if I make them." But still they will be prepared and delivered as promised. She listens to Tobin relay pay details, then the statement of approval from Tobin, her dark gaze flickering between the men as if she were avidly watching the best of plays enacted purely for her viewing pleasure.

Ignacio assures Harper formally (very formally), "I tip my barrista every mornin, but duly noted." Instead of answering her question he asks in turn, "You get to chapter three yet?" En garde, Harper. He waits for the answer beore shrugging telling Tobin matter-of-factly, "I was the parental favourite, but he's really the best of us." Occasionally he an answer a question without being bubble wrapped in bullshit. "Hey somethin's better than nothin. I ain't lookin to retire and really, for a friend of the family I don't mind. All pans out right?"

Tobin and Harper lean against a railing on the boardwalk, talking with Ignacio. It's late, long after the last boat had returned to dock. The lights are up. There are a few tourists scattered about, but not many. Tobin finishes off the remainder of the pretzel and tosses the wrapper into a nearby can, making the shot neatly before settling back against the railing once more. He glances over at Ignacio curiously, as though wondering if he thinks that he and Rafael are alike at all. Only after he answers, does he say to Harper, "I'll be there. I'm working all week. Need to make up for the week I took off a couple of weeks ago. And I will probably survive if you eat some of the muffins on the way over, so long as you save me one." He gives a nod to Ignacio and a thumbs-up as they seem to be on the same page.

"I might have finished Spelunking," Harper answers Iggy with a tone that could be teasing or serious. "And started on Beekeeping." It's curious, learning /an/ answer to her question to Ignacio about he and his brother but not /the/ answer she was asking for. The two men informally agree on some employment plans. Harper turns her head and tips it up to offer Tobin one of her bright smiles, tired eyes and all. "Then it only remains for you to decide whether you'd like a home delivery or a nautical one." She utters a little scoff that's all affection. There will be more than one.

"Teach me how to say 'quit tripping, I have really good genes' in Thai, and that's what I'll lead with next time." That's Graham, coming along the walk from the direction of the Sea View Suites with a reusable grocery bag (leftovers!) dangling from one hand, the other arm tucked around Elise, with whom he's making this stroll. "Or 'sorry man, already hitting it' in whatever language - what even was that guy's name?" Not that he cares, judging by the way he doesn't pause to catch the answer before he tips his chin in a greeting toward the cluster along the railing, passing a glance across them with a quick, "Evening." Shiny happy people~.

"I mean I'm pretty sure he only spoke English? His name was Mike," Elise makes a face, wrinkling up her nose as she leans into Graham on her stroll along the boardwalk. "Besides, if I'm teaching you to say shit in Thai, it'll be like 'your daughter is the most beautiful woman ever and I have put all the other club tramps behind me in an effort to woo her'," she turns her chin up to grin at him. "It's almost romantic." There's a blink at the cluster of people along the railing, Elise straightening up a little. She looks from the trio, to Graham again, brows climbing in silent communication.

Ignacio pauses his look around to regard Harper looking impressed, "Beekeeping already?" This apparently makes sense to him. "Well then you'd know he's my best friend for a reason and no, it's because no, we're not alike... this is probably a good thing for him." He pauses adding utterly unhelpfully, "But also yes." The request for things to say in other languages (because that's all too familiar request) brings that bemused look. He doesn't greet but with an upnodof his head, and, "Sup?"

"Bring them to the boat when you come out for the tour. I'll bring some coffee, and we can have breakfast while we cruise around the harbor and I'll let Dawn give the tour while I drive," Tobin says, laying out the morning plan for Harper. When Graham and Elise approach, Tobin gives a tip of his head in greeting in return, "Evenin'." He can't help but chuckle just a little bit as he catches Elise's end of the conversation that she and Graham were having as they approach.

Some Gray Harbor folks Harper doesn't know past recognizable faces. This will be a triumphant moment -- or a disappointing one -- for Ignacio. "Done and done," Harper agrees to Tobin's terms, even going so far as to shove out her clenched hand in a little fist-bump against his. Harper follows Tobin's attention to the passing couple, distracted gaze sharpening just so as she takes in the easy-banter of the clearly close couple. She offers a smile that starts in her eyes before curving at her lips and offers a two finger salute touching to her brow in Graham and Elise's direction. "It's still Solstice somewhere." Well, it's a /sort/ of greeting.

Aww. They should kiss or something. Probably they would, considering Graham answers, "Well, obviously you're gonna teach me to say that, how else am I gonna get it tattooed on my ass?" And leans down to do the kissing, but then all that noticing of the other people happens, and the kissing gets steamrolled. Elise's eyebrows business has him saying out of the side of his mouth, "Yeah, apparently it's a Thing." And since these two are subtle as fuck, he steers them toward the group of people to comment, "Just musing over the particular brightness of this general area of the boardwalk. Official club meeting or...?"

"Aww! You trust me enough to actually take me on my word?" There are all sorts of hearts in Elise's eyes for Graham, even as her grin turns wicked. "Because I could just tell you it means that, but in reality it means something like 'I want the pad thai, but with chicken not dog'." Elise reaches with her free hand to pat-pat Graham on the cheek as she laughs, before she gets pulled along to the shiny people on the Boardwalk. Graham's uh.. 'tact' is regarded with a few blinks, but she smiles to the trio. "I'm Elise," she introduces herself, in case this really is an official club meeting.

Oh! Oh ho! A direct question. Elise and Graham just dropped the opportunity to hijack a new official org and Ignacio absolutely is taking the opportunity to do so. If only he didn't sound like someone sat on his vowels. "Oh, yeah you got the memo too?" Man he can say anything like he's somehow a resident expert going on near nothing. "You, uh, a lil late but we haven't started too much. There was a pledge and they handed out pretzels but seeing as how you ate? Eh, ya didn't miss too much. There was a secret handshake too, but we can't discuss it." He pauses and helpfully informs, "It's secret." Like they do. He points "Harper. Tobin. Ignacio." There. We're caught up, right?

Harper looks from the couple to first one then the other dark-haired man standing near her involved in the previous conversation. "I've got a hide-out, if we're going to be a clu--" Iggy steps in and Harper is laughing, if silently, at his commentary. When she is pointed to, Harper dips her chin. One salute is enough. She does add, however, on the edge of that receding laughter, "All said and done it's been pretty quiet, tonight." She reaches behind herself without looking to rap on the railing of the boardwalk. "No fires. No medieval re-enactments. No aliens. No book burnings."

Julia comes around the Fried Fish stack, a younger Latina in tow. The latter is wearing a mermaid costume, complete with bright red wig and carrying a tray with tiny cups full of bits of fried cod along with teeny tiny spoons. "You got this?" Julia questions the girl, who seems quite excited to get started.

When Graham mentions the shinyness of the group, Tobin can't help but smile a little faintly, knowing exactly what he's talking about. "Pretty sure you can still get pretzels if you're interested," he offers. There's a dip of his head when Ignacio introduces him. "There's a lot of us," he says, referring to shiny people. He's one of the shiniest in their immediate vicinity, too. He glances between Graham and Elise and asks, "Not used to it yet?" He figures speaking in vagueries works well enough for the moment.

"First off, who would want chicken instead of dog? Poodle is probably fucking delicious." Graham makes with the IYF sniff at Elise. "Second off," is a comment that he mumbles quietly, then turns to the group in due time to catch the names all flying around. Since Ignacio is the one that did the introducing, it's to him that he offers a handshake after foisting the bag full of leftovers off onto Elise, hold this. "What's up, I'm Graham." He'll shake Tobin's hand, too, like a proper little grown-up gentleman. "Definitely still in the adjustment phase," he shares pleasantly. Perfectly normal conversation...

"Why would you want to eat a dog? They're adorable, make great companions, and are cuddly. Kind of like you," Elise boops Graham on the nose when he sniffs at her. "Besides, cats are probably tastier." The grin upon her lips briefly brightens, before she returns her attention to the Shinies. She doesn't shake any hands, mostly because she gets a bag of food shoved into her arms so that Graham can do the shaking. "Mm. It's ah.. definitely different," she says vaguely, her brown eyes swinging to the little mermaid that toddles out from the Fried Fish shack, and then up to the Latina who accompanies her. "Julia! Hey!" she calls out, and then looks a little startled when she actually looks at Julia. "Whoa."

Speaking of glows, there's another beacon of similar brightness in the form of Julia, creating some kind of weird binary constellation. She's still pep talking the sample bearing mermaid, until she turns at the sound of her name. "Elise!" she yells happily in the other woman's direction. She abandons the mermaid to lure sailors to their deaths - err, customers to the fish shack, and makes a beeline for Elise. Hug incoming! "Girl, you get some? Because you are glowing." Wink wink, nudge nudge.

Ignacio remains either entirely out-of-the-know, a fantastic bluff man, or both. He informs Graham helpfully, "Good t'meet you Graham. Next week it's your turn to bring the baked goods though. " He looks back to the group, "Or we can organize a pot luck." He pauses picking up that there's another conversation going on and a vaguely uneasy look makes the briefest appearance on his face looking to Tobin eyebrow arching just a bit. Elise and- the sirena sisters(?!) get his attention. Back to Harper he informs, "Okay no medieval alien book burnings tonight... which means they're not showing the last Star Wars Movie, but we do have cannibal mermaids who do delivery." He pauses and weighs that out in his head a moment. "I thin we got the good end of this deal."

Perfectly normal. Harper may have had some initial conversations with Tobin about said club, but nothing so formal as to be prepared for the etiquette and decorum of this sort of near-spoken alignment. Her hand is not reached for and so her slim arms are folded against her chest. Somehow the librarian doesn't give closed body-language vibes in such a stance. She's all present ... well, mostly present with moments of disstracted glances in unpredictable directions. The affection between Elise and Graham draws a faintly amused sparkle to her dark eyes, despite the fatigue marking them tonight. "Nice to meet you. Elise and Graham." Harper says the two names as if there are hyphens between them. Unflapped, Harper turns her attention to Iggy and simply levels a warm expression on the idiosyncratic man. "You may be right, de Santo. You may be right." Has Harper moved a half step toward Tobin's shoulder? Hard to say. Maybe she simply shifted her weight to the hip nearer her graduating classmate.

Tobin returns the shake of Graham's hand and says, "Welcome to the club, then. You can store your personal trauma in the official handy collector's cup." There is no collector's cup. Glancing over at Ignacio he notes that vaguely uneasy look and studies himf or a moment or two as well, "I don't suppose Rafael filled you in on everything in the club charter, either. We'll talk more later." But then, he's looking over toward Julia as she approaches and gives her a bit of a wave. They're not particularly wel acquainted, but he's seen her around since her return since he works right down on the docks, and Fried Fish is on his regular circuit of lunch stops. That slight lean in from Harper gains a similar lean from Tobin, a brief contact, shoulder to shoulder, and a smile in her direction. "My mom used to take in all the kids in the neighborhood who were dealing with stuff. We got to calling the house the Club House. It's kind of still serving that purpose these days."

Because that's this town, Graham gives Harper and Tobin each one extra squint before he decides, "I think I went to high school with you guys." As much as Graham went to school, anyway. The whole sidebar about bringing baked goods has him dusting off one of his winningest smiles, with the dimples and cute. "Rice Krispie treats it is, then-whoa." The two thoughts are not related, and his awesome smile slips into the round of his lips when he's following Elise's look Julia-wards. "Damn, I never felt like the ugliest girl at the dance before in my life," he says around a startled chuckle.

Harper flickers a sidelong gaze up at Tobin somewhere between the gentle bump and his mention of the Clubhouse. Graham speaks and Harper's brown gaze sharpens on his face, his features, his overall look. "You must have been a few years behind." At least Tobin and herself. But /now/ she knows why he looks familiar. Maybe for more reasons than that, because -hey - small town. "Go <mascot name>!" Maybe the last is said this side of ironic, but still, not unfriendly. Never unfriendly from Harper. Rice Krispie treats. Harper has a definite thought about those. She doesn't sway back away from Tobin, but neither does she press up against him. Her gaze flickers over to Julia and back. Of all the topics in the world that can quiet the librarian in mixed company, this might be one. At least in the early stages.

It's a game of hot potato with the bag of leftovers, because Elise shoves it back to Graham. Here, hold this! It's just to free her up so she can give Julia a proper squeeze, a snort of laughter escaping her at the 'getting some' comment. There may be just a hint of pink on the apples of her cheeks as she smirks over to her friend. "Uh, yeah. Something like that," she proceeds to elbow Graham in the side. "This is really kind of overwhelming," she admits to Julia.

Ignacio levies a long look to Tobin again and when being studied the Spaniard shifts his posture into something too casual and practiced, weight back on his good leg. "What about you being a golfer? I forgive you." That'd be a solid affirmative to having no idea though his casual indifference and acceptance of the world hasn't changed. He might feel back for any empaths out there picking up a copper tang in the back of the throat from the spike of adrenaline he's working to keep buries. For now? The fish people, that he can certainly focus on letting Elise do the talking. Casual observer mode: activated.

"Girl, you do not even know yet." Elise is hugged unless indicating no touchee, and Tobin gets an uplift of her chin along with a smile. But then one of her brows hits her hairline as she notes to Ignacio, "That is a gross oversimplification. Fish eat other fish, birds eat other birds, and nobody calls them carnivores. Our cod is one hundred percent mermaid meat free." Julia herself is not dressed as a mermaid, but her Fried Fish tee shirt has a mermaid as part of the logo. And the shack's exterior is covered in a mermaid motif. Graham and Harper get a wave, and she adds to Graham. "It ain't the size of your booty, it's how you work it."

"You did," Tobin confirms, "Though we were a few years ahead of you." He remembers Graham by face, even if he didn't remember his name until he introduced himself. Ignacio gets a bit of a smirk and a shake of his head, but he picks up the vibe that the other guy is putting down, and so he doesn't press too much further than that. "Hey, I like rice krispie treats.."

Since apparently no one understands that roll (wtf guys lrn 2 read)...

Graham bobbles the bag, and it's only because he is that awesome that he manages to hook one handle of the bag with his RIGHT before all their leftovers clatter to the boardwalk; even with his awesomeness, there's a good possibility that one of the tubs popped open and spilled shit all over the inside of the bag (which is why it smells like curry over here now). "Yeah no," while he looks into the bag, then up at Harper and Tobin. "A couple years ahead. And that's a fucking myth," he tells Julia with a bland look her way. "Size absolutely matters." He closes the bag - no one needs to see that mess - and waves at the general outline of the fish-chick. "I'm feeling very small by comparison."

Elise will absolutely take a hug from Julia before she side-eyes Graham and his bag wobbling. That curry that opened up in the bag happens to be so damn spicy, it's probably going to make some eyes water around here. "I dunno if we need to start a dick measuring contest out here on the boardwalk, but.." she shifts a glance up one way and down the other cautiously, before she says to the group: "Why are some of you brighter than the others?" Because she's a newb you guys, she don't understand nothing 🙁

Harper lifts one of her hands from her folded arms to rub it over her face, her sloppy bun flopping a bit as she does so. "This has been delightful, but I have to be up to prep the Scholar's Breakfast by five tomorrow morning. I hope we can run into one another again soon. Catch up." She offers this to Graham (and Elise by proxy). A smile to Julia, then one to Iggy, then she looks up to Tobin. "Tuesday or Wednesday, okay?"

"Querida, that's a good question, but not one meant to be asked or answered out in public." Julia remains quite calm about it. And fortunately her Cuban ancestry lends itself well to handling spice. She sniffs. "Elise, did your mama go overboard on the chili flakes again?"

"Tuesday or Wednesay works for me," Tobin tells Harper and then pulls away from the railing as well. "Here, let me walk you back. I need to be heading back, myself." He looks over to Ignacio and says, "You. Get in touch with me tomorrow and come out in the afternoon. I'll show you the ropes." He then smiles at the others and says, "Good to meet you all. If you ever want to talk club business or anything, feel free to drop by the boat tours." With that, he falls into step with Harper to see her home.

Ignacio helpfully tells Elise, "Booty measuring. Totally different metric." He nods sagely as if this has been the issue of many a debate in his day. He looks to Julia and offers by way of apology, "Well even if it did as non-merfolk I ain't judgin. Besides, smells good enough I'm not sure I'm too worried about... the politics.." He looks to Elise, then gets a /good/ look at Julia...Tobin... Harper. . Yeah. his buzz wore off on the way over. Dammit. Shit is happening. He asks, "That cumin too?" His eyes are closed but one eyebrow goes up. "Be seein you, Agent Price." He pulls an Altoids tin out of his pocket and pulls something else out of it and pops it in his mouth with a crunch. This place, man. He doesn't even look but murmurs, "Esta maldita ciudad." A hand rubs his face. Looking again, and taking a moment to focus he offers, "Seriously, no offense about your sea people."

With eyes that look like they're watering (but they're really not, he's just a good pretender), Graham takes the whole grocery bag full of inedible and now spilled leftovers over to the nearest trash can and ceremoniously dumps it in there, thunk. "Before it dissolves its way through the bag," he explains with an apologetic smile. He's still over by the trash when Tobin and Harper make their escape, leaving him with a brow-twitch; "I guess they didn't wanna measure dicks." Shrug. "You wanna smoke?" he asks immediately after Ignacio does the thing with the Altoids, like the one has anything to do with the other. Also. Seriously. "I dunno if I'd call this public, my fishy friend. But I guess I take your meaning." There are NPCs around here somewhere, after all.

Julia gives Ignacio agrin

Julia gives Ignacio a very dry grin. "Menos una ciudad, mas un pueblo." she says, holding up her hands in a hapless kanyeshrug. To Graham, "I'm not surprised you don't remember me. I'm Julia. Friend of Hannah's. I left town when I was eleven, but even then I don't think we ran with the same kiddie gangs."

There's a whole lot of newb going on with Elise, but at least she seems to understand that the Boardwalk isn't the place for Shiny-discussions. "Mm, maybe you should come by the house sometime soon," she says to Julia, lips twitching into a thoughtful purse for a moment. But then Graham dumps all the leftovers in the trash, and she huffs a sigh at him. "Some of that stuff was probably still good. Now I'm going to have to cook," she mumbles something under her breath. To Julia, she mentions: "I think she was trying to put G in an early grave."

Whatever Julia replied with draws an honest halg-grin from Ignacio with a snort. "Yeah. That too." He looks to Graham like he wants to say yes but shakes his head. "It's a walk back. I need to make it there by tomorrow, but I appreciate it." He offers to Elise, "Ya know I've seen people try to weaponize food for social warfare before. Kidna frightening."

Add to the list of things Graham shouldn't just tell people: "Yeah, all my friends were white." He side-eyes Elise. "Half-white? Whatever." He rolls with it. "What's up, Julia, I'm Graham. You make the fish?" There's a sense, with the dumb smile that accompanies that question, that he finds the idea of small talk a little dorky, what with everyone shining their asses off down here. "You sure?" he adds to Ignacio of the cigarette - he doesn't want to be the only one smoking so be a bro and just say yes, lung cancer is cool! He ditches the trash can in favor of apologizing Elise for throwing away the leftovers by kissing her cheek in the most obnoxiously sloppy way he can, very loud smooching noises right into her ear, mwah. "Sorry, baby. Just don't tell your mom I threw her fucking bag full of poison away?"

Julia gets a look on her face like O RLY, asking blithely, "How come? He your boyfriend? Tell you what. Let's do a little dinner party tonight at your place. You buy the ingredients and I'll cook." Yes, let the pro chef do the cooking. "Invite whoever you trust, namely these guys, but someone who is not me does the dishes." Her gaze sharpens on Ignacio."No car?"

Elise casually avoids labeling Graham with the 'b' word and instead labels him with something far more permanent-sounding. "Uh, way-in-the-future baby daddy?" There's a smirk that cuts along her features, but something almost sobering in her gaze that she quickly shakes off. Maybe there was more to that, but Graham was obnoxiously smooching on her cheek and making her laugh as she swats him off. "I won't tell her, but only because I'll avoid the conversation about how Michael didn't throw her leftovers away. I imagine he's called her already to gush," she rolls her eyes. "A dinner party sounds good. But it'll just be me and G," she points a thumb between herself and Graham. "So, less dinner party and more .. dinner shindig?"

Ignacio knows the look. The ont thing he's really lax to is peer pressure so Ignacio does Graham a solid and takes the prooffered cancer stick. He pauses and looks to Julia, and tehn around and back realizing he is being quesitoned. The man in the moto jacket shrugs. "Long story short skipping past the fleet of ninjas? I sold it to take care of some stuff and move here." Looking around at the boardwalk he admits, "I didn't imagine everything being so damn far apart and a total lack of a public transit system."

"My family owns it." Julia says to Graham, "Hell, my abuelito built the place." She then have grins at Elise. "Niiiiiiice." she says, say

saying, "But if the only reason Ignacio here can't come is lack of a ride, I can be his almost Uber."

With his own cigarette between his teeth but not lit, Graham holds his lighter out toward Ignacio for a second - take it or leave it - and is then preoccupied trying to steal Elise's phone from her; to the untrained eye, it looks like he's just molesting her, but then (much like the leftovers earlier) he winds up bobbling the phone - almost definitely because Elise caught him in the act and ruined everything. Rabble rabble, he talks fast; "I just wanted to text your mom to say thank you for the delicious dinner, and to ask her if she would please cook for the dinner party for our new friends and also remind her that I have good genes. But since that's obviously all fucked up - what should we buy for you to cook, Julia? I'mma need a list."

Also, for Ignacio, "You broke, man? 'Cause I could get you some work." STOP DOING THAT, GRAHAM, JUST STOP.

"It's not so bad, I walk around town a lot. Just fucking sucks when it starts ra -- HEY!" Elise's thoughts to Ignacio cuts off when Graham starts getting handsy, and she reaches behind herself to smack at the hand sneaking into her back pocket. Which.. probably looks like she's trying to spank herself, but anyone who knows Elise knows that she's got a pretty solid 'good girl' rep, so it's doubtful she's going to get up to some kinky shit on the boardwalk in front of people. ANYWAY. "You're a very bad liar," she remarks to Graham, gives him a kiss on the mouth, and shoves her phone back into her pocket. "If I hear that poor dude got his tires slashed tonight, I'm going to smack you," she eyes Graham warily. "He's forty, G, you don't have anything to worry about." She clears her throat, about to say something else, when Graham starts offering Ignacio employment.

"I don't think he wants that kinda work," she mutters, folding her arms over her chest and shifting uncomfortably from one shoe to the next. "But my parents own the Sea View. I bet they could use a front desk clerk or something. If you're looking."

Ignacio takes the lighter and strikes the wheel, lights the cig. There's something comfortably familiar in the gesture. He rolls it in his fingers and hands it back direct without being fancy about it. What he wasn't actually expecting was to be invited to a dinner shindig by total strangers. Small town,s man. Mulling it over in his head he nods. "Shit, Yeah, aaaah sure." A nod follows and he offers to Julia, "Trade you help in the kitchen for the ride then?" His expression seems serious enough on that. A faint half-grin forms, "Graham you gotta tell me. Now I wanna know."

"Depends. You want some old school Cuban food, or something fancy? My number is in Elise's phone." Her eyes veer toward Iggy. "You got a phone?" Then firmly, "He is not working in the club. If he was lucky he'd just barback and your boss would never remember his name and just call him Juan or Diego all the time. And at worst...the brown boy would be the first one they arrest." She notes idly, "We're hiring. It's part time work, and you wouldn't have to wear the mermaid costume." Her smile brightens. "Yeah, sure. You can be my sous."

"Apparently jobs're just coming outta the woodwork right now, but - " Graham has his own phone, he doesn't need Elise's! He taps it a couple times, then holds it out to Ignacio, a trade for the lighter that he reclaims. "Call your phone from mine. If it turns out fish-frying isn't your schtick? Maybe you can clerk for Elly's folks, or I could hook you up with some work."

Yes, yes. He's a terrible liar. "Just the worst," like he's soooo crestfallen. But he brightens right up when smacking him comes into play (literally 'cause he lights his cigarette about then) and mumbles into the exhaled plume of smoke, "Well, Mike's definitely getting a flat tire now."

Ignacio snickers, too amused and the joy just lights up mischief in his eyes watching Graham /waiting/ for the story on that. Julia's warning gets a slow nod. Yup. Sounds familiar. He pauses and assures, "Yoooou really don't want to pay out the medical for me barbackin for ya man." He glances to Julia though and arches an eyebrow, "Used to help my dad run his restaurant back home. I'd be down for that if you need some part time help." He pulls out his phone and murmurs to himself, "What the hell, Raf?" He texts him back and pockets the phone. "Hmmmm we should make a vaca frita. Have't had that in forever."

Elise rolls her eyes at the same time that she leans into Graham, sneaking her fingers into his back pocket. But, interestingly, she doesn't tell him not to slice that guy's tires again. Instead, she flashes Ignacio a smile when Julia goes running off to deal with the little mermaid. "Hey, it was nice meeting you. But if I don't get this guy an ice cream, he turns into a big baby," she grins adoringly up to Graham. "I'm sure we'll see you around."

Vaca frita? "What the fuck, why doesn't anybody eat white people food in this town?" Graham sighs a big, cigarettey sigh and echoes, "See you around, man." One arm slings around Elise's shoulders (careful not to light her hair on fire with that cigarette, that'd really just ruin the night), and the other hand lifts his phone to his ear for what is definitely not a fake phone call. "What's up, it's Big G. I need a favor, man. I gotta license plate number for you..." They fade off down the boardwalk for ice cream.