2019-07-03 - Everything Is Fine

A clear, beautiful day in Gray Harbor - sunny, cloudless, and hot enough that just about everyone walking around has a water bottle, or soda, or overpriced ice triple espresso matcha latte or something. Children are out for the summer, and are /everywhere/. There's a group screaming at each other over football, another swarming the carousel, and several just running around with far too little supervision. It's not exactly restful, but it's fun to watch.

Which is what Alexander is doing. He's on a bench near the path that leads to the hospital, the whole bench to himself because he's dressed a bit like a homeless person and looks like he's coming down from a bad trip and/or hasn't slept for a while. And he's watching a group of children playing. Because that's not creepy at all. Several parents are keeping a wary eye on him, which he seems to be ignoring.

Is he wearing a sweatshirt? Yes, the weather is too warm for it, but if he's wearing a sweatshirt, he's definitely looking homeless. Anyway.

Alex likes fresh air. That's why he's coming out of the hospital midday, squinting briefly upward before he puts on his (super expensive) sunglasses to keep that glare out of his eyes. He has a nice little lunch bag in one hand and, like every human adult in the country, a cell phone in the other hand, at which he glances momentarily. Then it's a quick survey of the immediate area.

And the homeless person on the bench. He looks a little bummed about this, like that's exactly the bench where he was going to sit and now he can't. Oh wait, "Alexander?"

Violet is not coming from the direction of the hospital. She's footing it from downtown, where she has walked all this way to presumably meet someone who may or may not be named Alex. It explains why she's holding two To-Go cups from Espresso Yourself in either hand, which means she is unlike all the other human adults in this country and doesn't have room for her cellphone. But she's dressed for the weather, in a kitschy navy blue sundress with a print of books all over it, belted at the waist, and a thin cardigan on top with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. She also wears a locket with an antique clock hanging from it.

She makes her way over to the appointed bench, but stops short when she sees it is already occupied. It makes her blink, until she recognizes the other Alex, and her Alex on the approach. "Oh, I didn't know you were coming, Alexander," she furrows her brow, but there's a pleasant smile on her lips. "I would have brought you tea or coffee, too. Hello Alex," that latter part is to Alex, obviously, whom she wanders over to peck on the cheek and hand him his coffee.

Sure, Alexander is wearing a sweatshirt! And jeans, and stompy work boots. The sweatshirt is a University of Oregon one, faded and washed way, way too many times, but at least it does fit him, unlike a lot of his clothes. He twitches as someone says his name, straightening from his slump as he looks in that direction. Alex is stared at for several beats before he says, "Alejandro. Yes. I remember you." He rubs at his head, slides down to one end of the bench so that there's room for other people to sit there. If they want. "How is Miss Wh--" A pause as Violet arrives. "Miss Whitehouse. Are you well?" A glance back and forth between them. "You want the bench. I can leave." He stands up.

The sweatshirt explains why Alex would immediately assume 'homeless person.' It all makes sense now, thank you. It's also why he straightens his tie with an absent twitch of his fingers before his phone disappears in his pocket, so as not to be a distraction for the rest of this scene. Also, here comes Violet, so it's served its purpose. "You look," FIND NICER WORDS, ALEX, "very comfortable. We're about to have lunch," with a dip of his forehead toward the approaching Violet. "You're welcome to stay. I made egg salad sandwiches." His iffy tone invites the possibility that he'd understand if Alexander wasn't a fan, few people are, and he doesn't immediately take the bench, just stands next to it with his lunch bag. "Hello, Violet," he says, quick-kiss back at her.

While judgmental Alex is judgmental, Violet is full of pleasant smiles. "No, you don't have to get up. Sit! Join us," she encourages, "Alex is very good in the kitchen. He even does the dishes," she perks a smile, and moves to put herself down on the bench. There's a tiny, barely noticeable flinch of pain as she settles, but it's gone the next instant. "I am fine. Are you fine? You don't look very fine," and that makes Violet lean (again, with the flinching, she really should make a better effort to not bother her injuries) so that she might squint at Alexander better from behind thick eyeglasses.

Alexander shifts from foot to foot, weighing his various options. Only one of those options includes egg salad sandwiches, though, so he cautiously sits at the very edge of the bench. He studies Alex for a long moment, maybe trying to evaluate his sandwich-making expertise with the power of his MIIIND, before giving Violet a frown. "I'm fine. I look as fine as I ever look. I'm glad you're fine." His gaze shifts back to Alex. "How are you? Are you fine?" It's as toneless as most of his words, but there's just the slightest bit of emphasis on all the 'fines', and the barest hint of amusement in his sunken eyes.

Alex is good at the sammiches, and he puts the bag down on the other end of the bench for Alexander - though that may have less to do with Alexander than just being where he's standing - so he can reach into it and get out the two sandwiches, all wrapped up in Saran Wrap. He passes one off whole to Violet, and unwraps the other one, taking half so he can give the other half to Alexander. While they talk about how fine everyone is, he looks between them; Alexander may not know him well enough to read it, but Violet does, so he's looking at them like he's 90% sure they're using that word wrong. "It's been a frustrating morning," he answers truthfully. "But there are also grapes in the bag, you're welcome to some of them." He means both of them.

Violet's brow climbs at Alexander's response; she rather blatantly does not believe him, and she's not exactly a hard read. But she doesn't press. Instead, she murmurs a quiet thank-you to Alex and sets her cup to the side so that she can carefully unwrap her delicious sandwich, canting her head up to Alex when he responds about how not-fine his morning was. "My morning was quiet," she tells the group, biting into her sandwich and chewing fully before she continues on - Violet has fine manners. "But I did sell a few books, so it's better than most days when I sell nothing at all." There's a brief pause, before she adds far more quietly, "And no bad Dreams since we found the bones. Did you hear about the bones, Alexander?"

"Frustrating, how?" Alexander straightens up, studying Alex with an impolitely direct interest. More, he shakes his head at the egg salad half-sandwich is offered. Because he's rude. Or, possibly, as he says, because, "I can't take your lunch, Alejandro. But thank you. For the offer." His hands fidget up and down his thighs, picking at the seams of his jeans as he watches them. If he recognizes the skepticism from either, he doesn't say anything about it. "I did. I suggested an autopsy. Before they are...burnt? Apparently?" He doesn't approve, that's clear enough in the tone and the furrowed brow.

With a glance at half of the world's most delicious egg salad sandwich, Alex continues to hold it out toward Alexander, wrapped in Saran Wrap so his fingers haven't even touched it. Blinking behind his shades, he notes, "I'm giving it to you." Ultimately, either Alexander takes it or Alex sets it, wrapped up still, on the bench over by Alexander - for later homeless people or pigeons or whatever. As for frustrating how, he just says, "Dead ends." And then he eats some of this sandwich that sounds disgusting but tastes good so just STFU and enjoy the food, Violet. <.< His brows climb about burning the bones, but the reason for the brow-climb is one of those thoughts he keeps to himself.

Violet sits up a little straighter at the talk of burning the bones, though she's quietly consuming her disgus -- err delicious -- sandwich through the talking. Violet loves this sandwich, as evident by her enthusiastic nibbling. But at least she doesn't talk with her mouth full. "I felt them," she says quietly, grimly. "The bones. They.. they want to be buried, they were afraid of being burned. I still don't understand how we could take anything out in the first place. You couldn't ever take anything out before," and she frowns as she takes another bite out of her sandwich. "But the bones.. whoever it was? They wanted to help Them," she stresses the capital T on Them. Dark men. Oooo spooky. "So, whatever is done to the bones, needs to be done quickly." And that is all she has to say about that.

Alexander stares at Alex. Staaaaaare. And then he stares at the sandwich. And, eventually, he reaches for it, and picks it up, because his mother would be SO DISAPPOINTED if he let food go to waste. He inspects it as if for poison or possibly human body parts, before he takes a small, tentative bite. Once he's chewed and swallowed that, he says, "This is good. Thank you." A pause. "Dead ends? On what matter?" He takes another, slightly bigger bite as Violet talks, eating with mechanical precision. "I haven't seen them. Don't know much about them. But we should learn what we can for them, I think." There's a shrug of his shoulders, his head ducking as he stares at the sandwich slightly-less-than-half.

HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT SANDWICH MADE OUT OF HUMAN, ALEXANDER? IS IT DELICIOUS?! OM NOM NOM.

"You're welcome," Alex answers, sounding very pleasant about the whole thing. Ostensibly, he's still standing at the other end of the bench because he doesn't want to crowd them, but probably really it's because sitting on a bench with a homeless person is just not Alex's style. The question of 'what matter' has him chewing and lowering a nod toward Violet, like that sums it all up. "It's extremely difficult to burn bones," he shares with the group. Helpfully. "So I wish them luck, but they would be better served to find some other way of dealing with them."

Requests for meetings happen, right? And Vivian needed to get out and stretch her legs, plus she actually hates to be late. Unless being late is part of the surprise, but that is an entirely different kettle of fish that might need explaining. Either way, Vivian heads to the park a little earlier than the appointed meeting time, stopping on the way to pick herself up a cup of coffee so that when she heads out into the park she's got the cup in one hand.

Today she's sporting a dark blue skirt suit with a matching blue and gray print blouse, and gray heels that probably were not designed for long walks in the park. The hand not holding the coffee holds a phone, and Vivian seems to be texting someone on it, judging by the movements of her thumb and the studious expression on her face.

All this talk about burning things is making Violet twitchy. She decides to be quiet and om-nom-nom the rest of her delicious sandwich, wiping her fingers on the napkins that Alex assuredly brought in the bag with him. "I just don't think they should be around much longer," is all she has to say about the bones. As for dead ends? She catches Alex's chin-tip towards her, and frowns as she reaches for the grapes in the bag. "We can't figure out where they sent Alice," she murmurs quietly to Alexander. "It's like the place doesn't exist at all. And she's not.." There was probably more to the story, but Violet's attention shifts to Vivian heading towards them. She clams up immediately, though there's a glint of recognition in her eyes. "Hello," she says politely to the woman.

Alexander follows Alex's nod, and stares at Violet for a few moments, before saying, "Ah. I see." He takes another bite of his sandwich. Or rather, of Alex's sandwich. "I have an idea for that. It may require coordination." He looks away, happening to catch the approaching Vivian in the movement. "Dr. Glass may be able to help, if she can be persuaded." He offers Vivian a smile - it's all creepy and wrong, as if put together by someone who has only had smiling explained to them, and explained badly. "Dr. Glass. You've met Miss Whitehouse, I understand? Have you met Dr. Alejandro Reyes?" It's at conversational volume whether the psychiatrist looks up from her phone or acknowledges the small group in any way.

Watch Alex quickly divest himself of what's left of his sandwich. There must be trash cans around here somewhere? Or, actually, he just lobs the crust of his Wonder bread over toward where some pigeons have been trying to creep closer this whole time; they are very happy and coo and swarm it. He brushes off his hands, chews-and-swallows post haste, and greets, "Doctor Glass, I'm so sorry." Watch-check, "I've obviously lost track of time." But he handles it quite decorously , offering his now crumb-free hand over to shake Vivian's. So yeah, he sends a side-smile at Alexander to confirm they're acquainted, and also to say thanks for the introductions. "Serendipitous timing." See? He knows English just fine; it's just a stupid language. "I was reaching out to Doctor Glass about this exact subject."

"Mister Clayton." Vivian greets, the familiar voices are having the expected response of making her look up from her phone, and she tucks it into her pocket as her attention turns towards Violet, examining the woman for a moment before she offers a smile in return, "Miss Whitehouse, a pleasure to see you again." While she never had time to exchange names with Violet she's not about to explain that away at the moment. Nope. As soon as Alex stands up though she moves towards him, shifting her coffee to her other hand so that she can reach out to accept the offered hand, "Doctor Reyes, a pleasure. I'm running early, I believe." She does not check her phone, though, because she knows that she's running early.

Violet might've had something to add to the conversation, but thanks to Alex and Alexander putting a name (and therefore, helpfully, a profession!) to the woman that has approached them leaves her blinking behind her glasses. "Oh, I.. oh," her mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, gasping for breath, and she throws a look over her shoulder to Alex. It's not exactly betrayal, that look, but there's rather evident confusion. "I don't.. this isn't.." she is sort of floundering here, but at least she's not crying. Right? Right!

Alexander gives Vivian a jerky sort of nod, as he's acknowledged. His eyebrows go up as Alex mentions having reached out to her. Then Violet starts gasping and 'oh'ing, and he turns and studies her, while finishing off the last bite of the sandwich. When that's gone, he says, quietly, "I don't think Dr. Glass is interested in hurting anyone, Miss Whitehouse. I have found her to be a good listener." A pause. "And she handled the bones without screaming or fleeing the city. It's a good sign." Is it, though? Is it, REALLY?

"Hm," is Alex's sorta-answer to whether Vivian is running early or he's running late. Anyway, he smiles through whatever caused them to wind up meeting in the park instead of the hospital, and looks beneath his super-cool sunglasses to answer poor Violet's floundering, putting his recently shaken hand on her shoulder for a squeeze of the 'plz dont burst into tears' variety. The thing about the bones is news to him, and he covers that first by asking, "You met the bones?"

Violet's expression is oddly nothing new. Vivian has seen people flounder and make those kinds of noises before, so the smile that she offers is a quiet, sympathetic expression that hopefully puts no pressure on Violet to cry, or not. Whatever she wants to do is fine. But Alexander's mention of the bones causes that smile to slip just a fraction towards something more serious, "We're speaking of the bones again? I've a last known location, but wasn't the one that reached out to that person to see if they'd been disposed of yet." Since Alex seems to know of what bones they speak of she doesn't hold back. "There was some desire to examine them to find out gender and age, possibly look for a cause of death, to help with some record searching. I've not heard any update since then, I'm afraid."

Violet steadies a breath when Alex puts his hand on her shoulder, scraping her teeth over her bottom lip. "She was there when.. they were found," she explains quietly to Alex of Vivian's meeting of the bones, reaching into the lunch bag to pull out another handful of grapes. It's mostly just to fidget with, and she fidgets so well! "I don't think they should be kept around," the bones, she means. "It's just going to make Them pay attention to us. To whoever has them. The bones." There's a lot of 'they' in that conversation but let's pretend she puts emphasis on the capitals when necessary to differentiate.

"The person I contacted is trying to contact the funeral home owner to see if they've already gone in the crematorium or not," Alexander tells Vivian, softly. He gives Violet a sidelong look. "I would prefer to learn what we could about them before they were destroyed, but it isn't my decision to make. And I haven't been exposed to them." He brushes his hands and lap off, after finishing the final bite of the half-sandwich. "I suspect Alejandro asked you to meet over a different subject." He kicks it back to the good doctor, who can probably make it sound more sane to the OTHER good doctor.

After all Violet's talk of Them and the poor bones that never hurt anyone (let's don't forget that!), Alex contributes, "Someone should call the police about them." He's precious and doesn't understand how useless cops are in these kinds of matters. Then there's a nod to Alexander, and he pats Violet on the shoulder one last time, drumming up his apologetic 'this will only hurt for a minute' smile for her sake, before turning to Vivian. "Indeed, I didn't call you to discuss random skeletons. It's a," hmm, words, "professionally adjacent matter. That is, we're looking for a psychiatric hospital that doesn't seem to exist. But it definitely exists." Saying those four sentences irritated Alex; it shows in the pull at the corner of his mouth and the pinchy tone he had to dust off to utter them.

"I'm sure that as soon as he finds out we will find out, and I believe everyone is on the same page about the proper disposal when done." Vivian is assuming, and she's not going to comment about the involvement of cops. Sweet, sweet, Summer child. Instead she turns her attention to the real reason that she was asked to come out, her head tilting a moment, "So you're thinking someone has gone out of their way to erase the records?"

"We should have just left them alone. We shouldn't have taken them out, we shouldn't have been allowed to take them out," is all Violet will contribute on the subject of the bones, ceasing her prattling by shoving a grape into her mouth. There's some visible tension in her shoulders when Alex gets around to bringing up the crazy house, her lips bowing into a frown as she looks down to her dress and picks at a loose thread. "Hmm," she steals the word from Alex, and says nothing on the subject.

There's a faint smile from Alexander, towards Violet. "But that didn't happen. No use worrying about it now, Miss Whitehouse. Besides, if the bones really wanted to get out into the world, then other people probably would have been dragged in, until someone took them." Then he falls silent, and stares at the two doctors, listening intently. An eyebrow is raised at Alex at Vivian's question - his curiosity at the answer plain on his weary features.

Frowning thoughtfully, Alex confesses, "To be honest? I don't know what I'm thinking at this point. In my entire career to date, I've never come across something buried like this before. So I suppose I was hoping you might have some personal knowledge of this place? Have you ever referred someone 'upstate' or have any colleagues that have? Or. If you had a particularly notable case." He looks conscientiously at Vivian's eyes through these questions, stubbornly refusing to drop a sunglassy glance at the crazies on the bench. "To what hospital would you refer them?"

"I've personally never referred anyone upstate, and I haven't referred anyone anywhere in the state." Vivian replies after a moment, taking a final sip from her coffee before she moves to drop the cup into the trash, "If I had a particularly notable case where I'd refer them to would depend on a number of factors, most of which would be me checking into the reputation of the hospitals, what types of cases they seem to have the most experience in, and the relevancy to the patient itself. If you've got the name of the hospital, or a more clear location than upstate, I can check into things...and I can also ask around to colleagues to see if they have any recommendations."

"Yes, you're probably right," Violet murmurs her reply to Alexander, though his being right doesn't make the whole situation sit right with her. This other conversation doesn't sit right with her either, and she's trying so hard to just focus on the grape that she's rolling between her thumb and forefinger and let Alex do the talking. But, there's an irritated little noise that manages to squeak out of her, and although that makes her promptly very red in the face? She says to Vivian, "There is no clear location. There's no name, there's no direction. How can a place exist but not exist at the same time?"

"Would you be willing to begin spreading watercooler talk among Gray Harbor psychiatric professionals, Dr. Glass, that you have a recent patient who may require involuntary, long-term commitment? Delusions of persecution and magical thinking, paranoia, public outbursts that you're concerned could escalate to a notable threat to self or others? See if anyone has any helpful suggestions?" Alexander's expression is bland. He glances at the other two. "If we can't track the place, perhaps we can have better luck tracking a person GOING to the place."

Shaking his head, Alexander starts to answer Vivian's suggestions for how to dig a little deeper - but winds up just indicating Violet's comments, which pretty much sum up the meat of the issue: no name, no direction, doesn't exist. "I have a few names of doctors and rough timelines, but the records that should exist... don't." Which leaves him with a prim little frown. He blinks at Alexander coming up with that handy little fiction, says nothing about it, just turns his attention to Vivian to see how that whole scenario lands.

"If you have patient names and doctor names, I can fish around some as well." Vivian offers to Violet and Alex, "Even if the records don't exist there is the potential someone talks...." Which brings up an entire different set of problems. Alexander, however, causes her to pause and watch him, "If I have the names of the doctors that seem to have already referred someone to this nameless, placeless hospital I can be sure to target my lamentations to them, ask for the help of those longer in the profession than me, longer in the area. But I ask you are you willing to take this risk?"

Violet looks suitably alarmed when Alexander suggests tracking a person going to this place, and there's another sound that crawls out of her. This one is a distressed squeak. "No," she says firmly, shaking her frizzy blonde hair. "No no no. I'm not putting anyone at risk for this, this is my search, she is my .. this is.. if anybody should be put at risk.." she inhales a few quick breaths, in and out, just trying to collect her thoughts. "We don't need to put anybody at risk," she says again, more absolutely this time. "We have a name. Of someone there, right now." Or she thinks. "And that's the point of this, isn't it? To find her. Alice Whitehouse," she says that last part to Vivian. "That's who is there."

Alexander gives a curt nod to Vivian. "Yes. Ideally, a hospital name or address would be offered to you, or at least a contact person, and it might not be necessary. But if it is, that's fine." See? It's FINE. When Violet speaks up, his face twists. "No, Miss Whitehouse. If it becomes necessary, the last person it should be is you. You have a bond with your sister that none of us can replicate. If you and she disappear, then there may be no thread, however tenuous, to track." See? Rational. If you believe in psychic powers. Then he adds, "And you said you wanted to be my friend, when no one had said that in...a very long time. I wish to help."

Violet, never ask Alexander to kill a man for you.

"Hm. I'll email you what information I have already." (See? Told you that's what he would do.) Beyond that, Alex quietly sidesteps the discussion between Alexander and Violet about self-sacrifice by asking, as an aside to Vivian, "Do you need an actual person? Would a billable insurance card be enough for you to start asking colleagues?" Yeah, he's going to have to ask God for forgiveness now, there goes his whole evening. That said, he glances Violet-wards and comments, "I thought the point of this was that we don't know that she's there. Right now." With the questioning head-tilt. NB: Alex makes no effort to dissuade Alexander from volunteering as Tribute; have at it, GUY THAT KEEPS CAUSING ME TO GET MIS-PAGES.

"I don't need a physical person at first, the only way I will is if this turns up nothing, and we're stuck with sending him in." Vivian replies with a shake of her head, her attention on Violet and Alexander, even though she's answering Alex's questions quietly. "If they are family, though, I would not suggest using her, simply because they might find it more questionable if they see a familiar name cross over their desk."

"But you are my friend, and that's why I can't just let you.." Violet stresses to Alexander, but she seems to be getting no real help from the peanut gallery. So she huffs out a sigh, her brows knitting together as she pops a now warm grape into her mouth to aggressively chew on it. "I don't want to put anybody at risk," is all she has to say, once the grape is demolished.

Alexander waves towards the doctors. "As they say. Last resort." He attempts a reassuring smile. It's not a good one. Just a bunch of teeth messing with her mind. "We'll see what they find, then decide." He rises to his feet. "I should get going. Try not to die." And then he leaves, head bowed and shoulders hunched as he slouches away towards the other side of the park.

Alex wordlessly watches Alexander scurry away, his expression motionless while his eyes hang from that hunch-shouldered form. Even with the sunglasses, let's be real: Alex has no doubts that Alexander could get himself into a mental hospital any day of the week. "You're not putting anybody at risk," he reminds Violet helpfully. "Right now, Doctor Glass will be making inquiries on behalf of a John Doe. Which is considerably more than I've been able to do, so thank you." To Vivian, with a quick nod. "If Alice is," grrr, "loose, then we need to fix that problem sooner rather than later. At least this is some sort of plan."

"Is Alice being loose a bad thing?" Vivian wonders, glancing after Alexander when he shuffles off, then back towards Violet, "I would never let anything happen to Mister Clayton, so if the worst case happens I will be there ever step of the way, and would make certain that he was at the least amount of risk possible." She reaches into the pocket of her suit jacket, tugging out a business card, then tucks it back before pulling out a second one. The right one. She reaches out towards Violet, "If you need to talk to me about anything regarding this that is my cell number. Doctor Reyes and Mister Clayton both have my number as well."

There's a small frown on Violet's lips as she watches Alexander hurry off, but she just shoots a dismayed look at her hands instead of at either of the other two people present. And then there's talk of Alice getting loose, and it's probably rather obvious that Violet's about to snap. She jerks to her feet, taking her tea with her. "That isn't the right word," she says to Alex, or perhaps to Vivian, stilling her discomfort with a furrow of her brow. "Loose. It isn't the right word. He means.. if she's gotten herself free. If she's freed herself. She just.. she needs help. She needs my help. And that's what we're trying to get for her." When the card is offered, she doesn't immediately take it, but instead casts a look at it as though it may be a snake in hiding. But she plucks it from Vivian soon thereafter, tucking it into her pocket. "Thank you," she says quietly. "But I'll likely leave this in Alex's hands."

That isn't the right word? Alex takes a breath, releases it, and tidily folds his hands so the rest on the back of the bench, the pads of his thumbs drumming silently against each other. Mildly, "Precisely. That's what we're trying to get for her. Help." It's nice being so composed that he doesn't have to just punch someone in the face right now and can instead comment benignly, "I dislike the idea of using an actual honeypot, but at least Alexander would be a convincing one for this particular matter. If it comes to that and you need anything?" His nod toward the hospital indicates the 'from Alex specifically,' "Please let me know."

"Of course, but at least if you feel the urge you've now got the method to reach out." Vivian replies with a smile, then she glances at Alex again, "Of course. I'll begin working on getting this sorted out and as soon as I get anything, I'll let you know." Then there is a moment of 'oh look at the time' as she checks her wrist, "If you'll both excuse me."

"I hope it doesn't come to that," Violet says, though hope is the wrong word here, since it's fairly clear she wouldn't let it come to that. Still, she musters a faint smile over to Vivian, and takes a step towards Alex. "Thank you, Doctor Glass. Alex was.." she looks to Alex, and then back to Vivian, swallowing subtly. "He was right to have called you. I appreciate your help."

Oh good. Alex can stop playing the thumb-drums and offer another handshake to Vivian, this one with a professionally polite smile at her. "Thank you for your help, Doctor Glass. I know that this is all very," he pauses so as not to use the wrong word again, RABBLE RABBLE. "Unusual, but I really appreciate whatever help you can offer." Have they thanked her enough? Regardless, she'll have a nice little 'thank you again for your help' email coming her way before long.

At least neither of them are the fruit basket type.

"I'm more than happy to help." Vivian assures, accepting and returning the handshake, then she's heading back out of the park to do what needs doing.