2019-07-26 - Sittings and Photographs

Minerva is is here, lurking in the back with a few other patrons that are looking through old china. "What are you looking for?" she asks one of them. Maybe she knew them or she was just being helpful. She's dressed in red again and she's still sporting her black eyepatch, because she's not grown another eyeball in the past few days. Sadly.

August is always on the hunt for old plant guides. There's a wealth of information squirreled away in those things, especially the ones from the early 1900s. His sister collects cookbooks too. And one of the best ways to practice psychometry is with random antiques. (Just have to be careful about what kind of antique. For example, he's never touching a damned storm lantern again. Ever.) He's already found one book to get--a guide to poisonous plant species of the Oregon and Washington Coasts, from the 30s--when he sees the box and meanders towards it.

Edison comes wandering into the shop, wearing sunglasses and a black suit, but just a black t-shirt beneath the jacket, rather than his usual collared shirt and tie. Pointy black Chelsea boots on his feet, which click as he moves across the floor. He notes Minerva with a small smile, though before approaching her, he gives August a thorough once-over. His book, too, when he meanders past -- that gets a long look of interest. Hopefully he won't try to steal it when August isn't looking.

Love's been in the shop for barely five minutes, and she's already in the back, stretched out on the floor, her head under an antique armchair upholstered in warm, worn read leather with nailhead trim detail. She appears to be inspecting the underside of the seat with the flashlight on her phone. Her legs are long, encased in dark blue skinny jeans, a pair of patent leather chucks on her feet. Her top is a plain grey v-neck in ringspun cotton, a bit dusty here and there. Probably from crawling around on the floor. A long, long onyx and silver beaded rosary drags the floor every time she moves.

One might be mistaken for thinking that Gideon works here. He's wearing an honest-to-goodness tweed jacket with elbow patches, though something about him says he's doing so unironically. He's already clutching a book - an old edible wild plant identification guide with a faded and torn dustjacket. He's currently running his fingers over the spines of natural history books, frowning softly to himself.

Minerva says something in Yiddish to the people that are back with her and then she gives a huffed out chuckle. "I'm going to go look at books." she tells them. Though it's when she turns that she sees August and Edison and there's a smile as she heads that way. Love gets a smile as well. "August." she dips her head in greeting to the man when she gets closer. Then she gives a look to Edison, "Mister Baxter, how are you doing?" she asks him. There's a nod of greeting to Gideon as well since he's close.

August casts a sidelong glance at Edison. Recognition lights in his eyes for a second, from that day on the beach. He turns his attention to Minerva, though, nods a hello. "Hey," he says on a small smile. At the name 'Baxter' his attention shifts to Edison again, just for a second, now to the box. He walks his fingers through the books, pulls one or two out to flip through. He makes a face, puts them back in. His eyes fall on something at the bottom of the box, and he arches an eyebrow. "Really?" he murmurs, and decidedly doesn't touch whatever it is. Done with the box, he turns to see Love...inspecting the bottom of a chair. With her phone. He frowns, glances around to see if anyone else has noticed this.

A pale-skinned, tattooed arm emerges from under the red leather armchair as Love searches for some leverage to help her shimmy out from under the chair. Her almond shaped nails are manicured in the French style, though the tips are rose-gold glitter instead of the more traditional white. Whatever she was looking for down there, she seems finished. Her shoes scuff along the floor when she moves out and sits up. That goes fine, but she hesitates to rise once she's sitting. A breath blown out, she reaches back to take hold of the chair's seat again, and moves to get to her knees first, picking up a small book she left on the arm: Old Wives' Lore for Gardeners. Seems to be a theme in the book taste today.

Edison's gray eyes move from Love to Gideon, observing both in turn. Everyone must be looked at, apparently. The people Minerva is with, too. Then to Minerva, who gets a tiny smile and a nod. "Doctor Komisar. Can't complain." He says the words like they amuse him. Maybe he /can/ complain. His eyes slide back to August as he looks at him not once, but twice. Edison recognizes him as well. Then Edison gestures to Love, his hands moving behind his back. "It seems she's unearthed a tome from the vaults of your collection."

Gideon pulls a book off the shelf. Something falls when he does - an envelope. It lands not too far from where Love is clambering up off the floor. His eyes follow it, then he looks up, a flittering smile perching on his lips for a moment before disappearing. "Guess...no one moved that book in awhile," he murmurs to no one in particular.

Minerva gives a look back to Love, "Did you need help?" she asks her quietly. Then there's a look to August again and then the other tall spindly man that they know. "That sounds like something that someone that can complain would say." she chuckles. "Ah, this isn't a place that I own or anything." she muses to that. "My mom wanted to come over and check out the shop since she's not been over here in a bit." she shrugs.

August follows Edison's gesture, tilts his head at her find. He bobs his eyebrows. "Might have to keep an eye out for another one of those," he says. He nods at Minerva, asides, "Never know what you're going to find in here."

The fluttering envelop catches his attention. "Looks like you dropped something," he says to Gideon, pointing at the evelope near Love's feet.

"You never know what you'll find under there." Love murmurs, apparently unaware she's being watched by a few people while she contorts herself up off of the floor with what appears to be a foot that's asleep, though she could just be a klutz. The tall woman starts to step away from the chair, somehow misses noticing a stack of heavy books at the end of the aisle, and catches her toe on it, just as she's saying, "I thought the chair looked like one my dad had, so I w—" She hops to compensate for her foot not being where it should be to catch her weight and starts to go down, flicking out an arm to try to stop her fall... by grabbing a shelf. Which is probably a mistake in an antique store. Please be sturdy, shelves! "Shit," is all she has a chance to say before she steps on that envelope and skids a little more, but keeps her feet.

"It's not mine. It fell from the..." Gideon starts to speak to August, but then Love is doing Ice Capades across the floor. He reaches out instinctively to help keep her from falling, but he's too far away to be of any help. He winces. "You all right?"

"Right." Edison says that like he doesn't believe Minerva. He watches Love try to wreck the entire store, though he doesn't offer to help her. Instead he pushes his sunglasses up on his forehead to get a better view. This could be entertaining.

August abandons the box; he probably can't stop disaster, but maybe he can mitigate it. "Woah! Hey, you need help?" He comes towards Love, peering at her like he's trying to determine if she's just having a bad day of it, or actually experiencing some form of medical...something.

Minerva winces a bit, "I think the bad luck is going around." she states when Love goes envelope skating. Gideon and others have asked her if she's alright, so Minerva doesn't add to things. "It's a pretty chair." she admits. Then there's a look to Edison and a quirk of one black eyebrow as he pushes his glasses up. But nothing is said.

Love throws her arms out to balance, sucking in a short breath. It's lucky she was wearing Chucks today instead of heels of any kind. She takes a breath and says, "Sorry. Not... usually so charming." She bends carefully to pick up the little book she dropped, a 1977 edition with a red on pink cover with charming floral illustration ringing the type. "Must be all the fresh PNW air getting to me." She stays crouched there for a moment. Now that half of the customers are watching her, she says, "Thanks, sorry. No, no," this could be either to August or Minerva. "I'm... fine." She seems more or less ok. She finally glances over to Minerva and opens her mouth, closes her mouth. Then, "Yeah. I almost ate a garden gnome earlier." Don't ask. Or do. You do you. She picks up the envelope. "Someone drop this?" The shelving doesn't collapse, though it did creak ominously.

"It fell off the shelf," says Gideon as he motions to the envelope, then motions behind him at the spot where he removed a book. The envelope feels a bit fat and stiff, like there's something other than paper inside. The adhesive is yellowed and the paper is brittle. There's faded handwriting on the front.

"The air is disgustingly clean here, it's true," Edison comments, arching an eyebrow at Minerva as she does the same. He makes a 'bring it here' motion with his long fingers. "Might I see that, sir?" The man nearly sounds British, but it's hard to place his accent. He speaks softly; the big stick is a little harder to tell at first glance.

"Ouch." Minerva states with a frown to that. "I'm guessing someones going to be in the hospital by the time the week is over. I tripped on flat ground today. Just over it." she huffs. Then there's a bit of a chuckle at Edison as he just looks at her like that. She lets the others converse for the moment as she goes over to look at the box August was looking in.

"Okay," August says. But he's stays somewhat near Love, like he's worried there's more to come on her path from where she is to hand over the envelope. He nods at Minerva. "All kinds of weird shit going on, seems like." He thinks to the altercation on the beach the previous night, winces to remember it.

Happy to be nosy, because she doesn't know what Gray Harbor is like now (she left at age 11), Love inspects the front briefly, then slides a glittery fingernail under the flap to pull it open. It's the logical next step, right? Find an envelope; open envelope. It also means she has a reason to hold still a bit longer. "Thanks for saying that. I mean, I don't want everyone to be clumsy, but I was starting to think it's a sign to just go back to Vancouver and pretend this whole business never happened." She doesn't elaborate on what business.

She glances up a moment later, like maybe she just realized Edison could have been talking to her. This is how curses get released... "Oh, yeah." She stands, fingers prodding through the contents as she moves toward the tall, gaunt sort in the suit, ostensibly to hand it over.

Edison will delicately pluck it from Love's fingers, once he has the chance. "What kinds of 'weird shit,' Mister...?" An expectant glance to August. Surely he's been privvy to some of the weird shit himself, but gathering information from multiple sources tends to be useful.

As the envelope is being inspected, Gideon cracks the spine on the book that the envelope seems to have come out of - or at least was sitting next to. He furrows his brow as he peers through the pages, then squints. "Um..."

The envelope is full of old photographs, so faded that they stick together. It takes some careful peeling to separate them without tearing anything. It's a stack of about ten photos, and they look to be from the sixties or seventies, though some of them have the scalloped edge and yellowing of much older photos.

The one on the top is...quite disturbing. It's a portrait of a man in a suit in a loud green and yellow pattern. There is a spectral figure behind him. The man with a bushy white beard smiles brightly, as if unaware that there's a spectre with whisps coiling tightly around his neck. The figure has sunken eyes and what looks like a mouth full of sharp teeth.

"This...isn't a book on animal husbandry," says Gideon as he pulls off what appears to be a false dust jacket.

Minerva gives a look to the envelope exchange and there's a curious look from behind where Edison is standing. She's just a bit nosy for the moment. She scrunches her nose up at the top photo though and backs up. Nope, nope. She was having a halfway decent day. She gives a look to Gideon, "What...kind of book is it then?" she frowns.

Since nothing disastrous has befallen Love on her way to offer over the envelope, August meanders towards Gideon, curious at what kinds of book-swapping has been going on. It's not that uncommon in a store like this, truth be told. As he goes, he says to Edison, "Just...weirdly bad, you know?" He shrugs. "Not sure how to describe it, exactly." There's something in his eyes which indicates 'to a stranger'. He hesitates, then adds, "Roen."

Love is frowning slightly by the time she’s moved close enough for Edison to snatch the envelope, though one photograph from deeper in the pile remains in her hands. “Okay.” Mmhm. “Doesn’t even touch the beach on the weird-shit-o-meter.” And then she glances at August again. Wait, was he there?

It’s a questionable day when you need a spotter to cross an antique store. She glances over to August and offers a small smile before she studies the photo more closely. She tips her head then offers that one over to Edison too. “Artists have been known to do stranger things.” She doesn’t seem creeped out in the least, except perhaps by the fashion.

Edison holds the disturbing photo up to the light. His eyes narrow, and then he brings it closer, expecting it. Once he's had his fill, he replaces it in the envelope. There's a brief, curious glance towards Gideon and Minerva, and then Edison nods to August. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Roen. Edison Baxter, at your service." He makes no move to hand the envelope back to Love...though his eyes do move to the one she's still holding, and then he takes that as well, taking a close look at it.

"It's some kind of...photo album, or notebook. Looks like someone might have been hiding it in the dustjacket. Then it probably got sold as part of a lot. Just...guessing though," Gideon turns one of the pages and it cracks audibly from age. He winces. "Maybe...someone who handles rare books should look at it. I...worry I'm going to destroy it with curiosity." His lips twitch.

The other pictures in the pile are similarly disturbing and creepy. Spirit photography from the last couple of decades. The newest looks to be from the early eighties - judging by the crimping in the young girl's hair. There is a spectre that looks like an inky crow with human eyes that looms over her shoulder.

August blinks, slowly, and looks Love over again. Okay, she looks a bit different this time. He'll give himself that. "Yeah," he agrees, slowly. It's a 'yeah' to the unasked question as well. "Still bad, though." He bobs his eyebrows at Love, turns his attention to the photo album Gideon's found hiding in another book's dust jacket. He frowns. "We have a rare book dealer in town? I mean," he glances around himself, "aside from this place."

He gives Edison a quick once over, nods. "Yeah. Same." His attention turns back to the photo album; he leans over to see if there's any kind of writing on the spine or covers.

Minerva's one good eye is still looking a bit wary at the photos from a few steps back. Though she gives Edison a smile when he looks her way, "Can I see one of the photos?" she asks with a smile. "Preferably...that one." she points to the one with the thing standing behind the man. Because fun times!

There’s a lift of one shoulder and Love observes, “You definitely look like an Edison. Any interest in sitting for a portrait?” She has an odd way of asking that of people.

“Mmm, not that bad. You could do those in a few hours in photoshop then shoot them to film and print in the darkeoom, age them cosmetically and there you have moderately creepy vintage-look photos.” Give her a few more weeks in town and she won’t be saying things like that anymore. Probably.

She looks to Gideon, says, “There has to be. Cotton gloves in the mean time to protect the paper from oils in your hands. I’m sure there’s someone at the college if not.” She takes a moment to study Minerva. She’s probably going to ask her the portrait thing too.

Gideon holds the book very delicately. It's got a leather or faux leather cover, of the kind common on family shelves in the seventies and eighties. It's shaped like a large format book, which is likely how it went unmissed for awhile. Many of the pages are yellowed and stuck together. He tries to peel it apart, but hears ripping. He winces and stops. "I think we've found someone's research. Or..." he chuckles roughly, "...a very particular collection."

Edison plucks that photo from the pile and holds it out for Minerva. "Don't say it has anything to do with the inventor," he tells Love drolly. Then he raises an eyebrow at her, and half his lip goes up as well. "Perhaps. Ink? Photography?" Then he, too, is looking towards the photo album, although he doesn't make grabby hands for it this time. He seems content with the envelope.

"Thinking the later," August says. He eyes the book, shrugs. "Like she said--could always take it to the university library, if nothing else." He's not, it would seem, volunteering. Not with the way this week's been.

To love, he says, "Maybe not that bad for you, but for me, definitely that bad of a week. Not sure what the hell's up with it, but I can't wait for it to stop." He's assuming it will, because if it doesn't, he's going to move to the Northwest Territories and swear off all involvement with the world at large. He heads for the counter to pay for his book.

Minerva gives a smile to Love and then to Edison, "You'd look rather regal in a portrait painting." she tells him. Then she reaches out to take the photo from Edison's spindly fingers and gives him a smile. "The book might prove useful in the end of things." she nods to that. Then she scoots off to the side and keeps a hold of the photo as she closes her eyes. Or well...eye.

“No, I have more imagination than that. Oils.” Love’s words to Edison are brief, but she remains nearby the clustered patrons of the antique shop. “No family name on the inside front cover?” This is to Gideon, whom she’s looking at now.

She glances over to August. “Sorry to hear that. I’m all in for the slide into mishaps to cease. I got my car back from the mechanic and took out my dad’s mailbox already. I’m an excellent driver.” Sure, everyone who says that is, Rainman. Her week has been a series of near misses, except for the mailbox.

“You’d be an excellent subject as well,” Love says to Minerva. “If you’d be interested. I pay by the hour for model time.” Incentives from the grey-eyed woman. She reaches over to put the book she found onto a nearby shelf.

Gideon decides to take another try at gently opening the boom. But first, he sets it on top of another pile of books so he can pry the pages apart. It lets go with a satisfying 'thwwwick' and no tearing sounds. He carefully opens it, the spine cracking but not splitting. His eyes go wide and he jumps backwards.

The page that he opened to is a 8x10 colour, but dark and faded photograph of a corpse lying in a ditch, looking half-eviscerated, with a trio of whispy, gnarled and menacing figures hovering above it. There's writing etched around it, but it's all faded and hard to make out. But there is a date - October 2, 1982.

"The um..." begins Gideon, "...the front cover seems pretty attached to the front page," he says to Love.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Edison tells Minerva, smirking. He watches closely as she steals the photo away and closes her eye before examining Love again. "Oils, hmm? Well, if you're in need of a sitter, I can stay still for long periods of time." He reaches into his blazer and extends a business card to her. With a glance to August and Gideon, he also heads towards the counter, apparently to try and buy these photos.

Pausing on his way to the checkout, August says to Love, "Hey, if you're not interested in that one, I wouldn't mind having a look." It's a gardening book, he's going to look at it, old wive's tales or no. He moves to fetch the book, stops to see what's started Gideon. Blinks, very slowly. "Uh, okay." He sighs, rubs at his eyes. "Maybe, you know, don't take that to the university."

Minerva takes a breath in, but doesn't jerk or flinch. There's just a bit of a moment where she tries to see anything else. But can't. "It's too muddled." she whispers to herself. Or whoever might have moved over to where she was. There's a smile though when she opens her eyes, "I'm really not sure I'm a good model, but I have a card. No payment needed." she tells Love as she gets her card case out. A card is plucked out and given to the silver haired woman. Then she gives a grin and a wink to Edison, "It really won't most times." she muses. Then she's offering the photo to whoever wants it.

Love watches Gideon peel pages in the book, nodding. “You could try a scalpel, but it’s not for the faint of heart.” She grins a bit, then turns her head to Edison as he fishes out his card. She reaches over to take it, scissoring the paper between index and middle fingers. “Perfect.” She likes the ones who can sit still, it seems.

“It’s a good one. I have the updated version in my library. Help yourself,” she says to August of the book. “The ladies who wrote it are adorable and obviously read Pliney.”

A moment later she says, “I think you would,” to Minerva. She smiles and takes her card as well, adding it to her collection. “I’m Love.” There’s a brief pause, then she elects not to spill her last name. The last time she did, someone recognized it. And. Well. It’s not great when the first cop you run into knows your father by name right off the top of his head. She clears her throat softly, then wanders over to a shelf to inspect some antique eyeglass lenses.

"Are you going to...separate the pieces of the puzzle?" asks Gideon in Edison's direction. He's averting his eyes from the gory photograph, hand slipping into his pocket. He hunches his shoulders awkwardly. "Something tells me those photos won't tell the whole story without the book, and vice versa." He eyes the cards being exchanged, but his face contorts in confusion. He's been so focused on the book that he's missed an entire other thread of conversation.

"Mm. I suppose not," Edison says to Minerva. If he winked back, which he might have, it was almost too quick to see. "Love," he repeats, looking at her. Biting his tongue. Looking to Gideon next: "Then I'll take the book, too." A beat. "Unless you really want to hold onto it all." Yes, Gideon found it all first -- but that doesn't mean Edison has to like the truth.

"Thanks," August says, accepting the book with nod. He turns the book over in his hand, adds it to the book about poisonous plants. He considers Minerva's offering of the photo, holds out a hand to accept it. Well, who knows, maybe there's something interesting on it to sense. Maybe. What's the worst that could happen?

Minerva gives a look to everyone and there's a smile, but two older Jewish people start up the aisle and they are bantering back and forth. They say something to Minerva and there's a chuckle, "Of course, Eema." she tells the older woman. "I'm going to step outside. Feel free to call me, Love and Edison. I'm easy to find. I have Kosimar Psychiatry over on the outskirts." she smiles to that. Then she's leading her mother and the other woman that was with them out.

Love glances over as Edison repeats her name. She almost hides the smirk that suggests she's used to people not choosing to keep their initial reactions to her name to themselves. She glances between Gideon and Edison, then to August, then Minerva. She smiles and slides her hands into her back pockets. "Lovely to meet you all." She glances back down the aisle. "I think I'll come back for that Tiffany lamp when I'm not dropping and/or falling over everything in my path." No glass for this woman today. "Actually, perhaps I ought not to touch anything else in here..." She glances over to that shelf she grabbed earlier. "Ice cream and the boardwalk for me, I think. Good evening, everyone." She holds up the two business cards. "Thank you! And good luck with your delightfully odd c-prints." Artists.

To Minerva, "Oh, I definitely will!" Call, that is. "You too." She nods to Edison.

"I think the book should go to someone who knows about these things. Maybe to the police." Gideon says to Edison as he motions to the corpse-photo and tries not to shudder. He doesn't look like he wants to be the one to take that job on, but if no one else is going to... And it does seem like people are leaving. He stands there, shoulders rolled forward, looking at the book fretfully.

August runs his fingers around the edges of the photo, eyes distant. Then he winces, shakes his head, and glares down at the photo. "Yeah, fuck you too," he mutters to it, and tosses it on the counter in front of Edison. "Enjoy," he says, irritated. Of Edison offering to take the weird book and Gideon thinking it should go to 'the authorities' he says nothing, just makes a face. If the picture he just handled is any indication, that entire volume ought to be a barrell of laughs. The kind that hurt. Good luck to whomever gets hold of it.

"See ya, Minerva," August says. He nods at Love as she heads out, goes to purchase his two books.

"I'll do it." Edison extends a hand, once more, this time towards Gideon -- even as he slides that photograph back to the envelope after August just told it off. "Worry not. I'm confident that I and 'the authorities' can get to the bottom of things." He waits to see if he'll give him the photo album, standing patiently still.

Love pushes open the door, exiting not far behind Minerva. "Beautiful day." She snaps her fingers then smacks her hand to the loosely closed fist of her other hand, turning to the right to start off in that direction just as the door swings closed. No screech of tires or screams follow, so she probably got across the street okay.

Gideon could try the little mental trick on the book, too. But he doesn't like doing it, and anyway, he might actually see something. And unless this is just someone's cabinet of curiosities, he probably doesn't want to see. Still, his fingers slide over the cover and he closes it very carefully. The spine creaks in protest, but nothing splits. He has barely made eye contact with anyone for more than a half a second. Edison gets a slightly longer look, but still not very long at all. "I think...I'll keep it," he says, hesitatingly, but more on the side of sure than not. '

Edison nods. "Suit yourself." He turns around and pays for the envelope. Apparently, he'll be keeping that as well. He slides it into his blazer, then hands Gideon a card. "Should you want to meet and try to figure it out together, here's how to find me." With that, he puts his sunglasses back on and heads back outside.