2019-07-27 - Homecoming

Isolde was a little wary about Alexander coming back because it felt so soon! It was a good thing, but she was also worried that he might hurt himself all over again. Nonetheless, she wasn't going to try and talk him out of it because hospitals were not fun at all. Instead, she busied herself with making sure everything was straightened up - the sheets had been removed from the walls of his 'murder shrine' room and put back in place. The door was fixed and a new doorknob it. AND a new key. Only one. Because Isolde realized that she needed a key for the door as his old one wouldn't work now.

Alexander would notice two things. One (whenever he made his way to his bedroom) was a new lamp shade on his lamp that has birds on it! Though his original one was neatly sitting on the floor beside the nightstand in case he didn't like it. The second, and more obvious, was that there were a few CDs stacked on the table of different bands that seemed to have similar music that Alexander said he liked to listen to. Isolde was sitting on the couch, watching some kind of mystery show. Luigi's cage was open - allowing him to fly around as he pleased. "Just remember not to bombard him Luigi! He might fall." Isolde reminded the bird gently now and again. Because, you know, Alexander didn't need to be hurt again!

A cab pulls up at the front of the house, the cabbie looking visibly eager to get away from Elm in a timely manner. Alexander hands over a couple of wrinkled (and slightly bloody) bills, and limps his way to the front door. He's gotten fresh clothes, of course, and his leg is bandaged and stitched, but he moves fairly well on it. A crutch is being carried with him, but he doesn't seem to need it if he takes it carefully. He opens the door, and walks inside.

Despite Isolde's wise words, as soon as Luigi sees him, there's a flutter of feathers and then the conure dive bombs for his shoulder, scolding him in a loud, harsh voice. Alexander grins, lifting his free hand up to tickle the bird's crest and neck feathers. "Hey, Luigi. You're looking good." His smiling attention turns to Isolde. "Hey, Isolde. It's good to be home. How are you?"

Isolde sat up a little straighter, hearing the car pull up. A grin lighting her face when Alexander came in. "Welcome home!" Giggling as Luigi greeted the man. Poor Luigi probably hasn't seen him in forever in bird years! She stands up, taking a few steps closer but not getting too close. "How are you feeling?" A glance towards his injured leg, clasping her hands together as she looks back up at him. "I am doing well. Happy that you are back home. I have been staying out of trouble! Which is a good thing."

Luigi gives several kisses to Alexander's cheek, then calls out his protest to the man's untrimmed stubble, and flies away, only to land on Isolde's shoulder instead, if she allows it. If she does, the shoulder is walked and Luigi grumbles into her ear a few times. Alexander smiles. "Staying out of trouble? Doing a better job at that than I am, clearly. Good." He slips past her, limping towards his bedroom to put down his clothes bag and the crutch. There's a startled silence. "The lampshade's different." It's not yet approving. Or disapproving. At the moment, it's more...confused, and perhaps seeking confirmation that yes, the lampshade is different.

Isolde looks absolutely delighted with Luigi lands on her shoulder. "Oh je sais, mon cher." She lifted a finger and would give Luigi a little scritch if he allowed it. "But it will be okay now." Then took a few steps down into the hallway. "It is!" Confirming for him. "I saw it at the flea market. It was colorful...I thought you might like it. Maybe." And also, you know, it gives that aggressively normal bedroom some color!

Luigi allows, for just a moment. His head turns and he sticks his beak up against her finger and chuckles. Then flies away, back to his cage. He starts walking back and forth, head bobbing, tail twitching. Happy bird is happy.

Alexander is...staring at the lampshade, his brow furrowed. He finishes putting his bag down, and hobbles his way to it. Reaches out and touches it, turning the shade slowly around. It looks like it could go either way, for a moment, before he takes a deep breath, and smiles, slightly. "It's nice, Isolde. Thank you. It's very pretty. I didn't expect it." And things he doesn't expect can be bad. But in this case, he seems to decide he's okay with it. He turns to look at her. "Just, uh, keep the spontaneous redecorating to a minimum?" Then he starts walking towards the bathroom, reaching up to scratch at his chin and jaw. "I've gotta shave," he mutters. Then stops as he reaches his research room door. He stares at the doorknob. In silence.

Isolde watched Luigi fly off and then focused back on Alexander as he started to leave the bedroom. "Yes. I will keep it to a minimum. I'm glad you like it." She smiled a touch, though it faltered when he saw the door. "Oh!" She returned to the living room, picking the key up off the table. "...The door was broken." She explained. "I don't know why. Itzhak fixed it. But he didn't see anything inside. I covered the walls." Isolde doesn't seem particularly disturbed by the contents of the room. So that's probably a good thing. Handing him the key. "This is the new key. The only key." Assuring him. Maybe looking a little hesitant still though.

"The door...was broken?" Alexander repeats the sentence like he doesn't understand the words. He turns when she approaches to offer him the key. There's a pronounced hunch to his shoulders as he stares at her. Then at the key. Then at her. "Itzhak. The neighbor? Was here. And fixed my door. Which was broken. The door to my research room." A shudder runs down his spine. "He...didn't see anything. But you? You did?" He doesn't take the key just yet, just looking at her with wide eyes that are nearly black with some emotion.

Isolde tugged at her hair a little with her free hand. "I came home, after the Murray House meeting. The door was broken. I saw inside." She moves her hand a little, as if trying to insist he take this key from her. "Not a lot. I didn't look hard. It is your space. But I was worried. Because it was open." And it was NEVER open. She doesn't mention the bag of bones for now - which were definitely back in their place. "I didn't know how to fix the door. So I covered the walls with the extra sheets and asked Itzahk to fix it. I'm sorry. Don't be angry. I just didn't want it broken when you came back."

Alexander takes the key, very slowly. His face is stuck in that rigid moment, but his eyes are seething with suppressed anger and fear. He turns, unlocks the door, steps inside. His gaze goes first to the corner, and the bag of bones. A quick inward breath, then outward. He pivots, slowly, looking at all of his...research. Frowns at pieces that have been moved slightly, and steps up to straighten them back with trembling fingers. "Was the front door open? When you came home? Unlocked or broken?"

Isolde seems the slightest bit relieved when he takes the key. Her own eyes widened - anxious. Hopefully nothing was stolen. She didn't know what was or wasn't here. Nothing was obviously missing. She crosses her arms loosely over her middle as if she was hugging herself. Shaking her head. "No. Everything was normal. The door was locked. Nothing broken. Nothing else looked broken or missing. Just the door." Nodding towards the research room door. She stands just outside the room, watching him and not the other things. This was his private space. Isolde wanted to try and respect that.

There's a muscle jumping in Alexander's jaw. He steps outside, closes it gently behind him. He stares at nothing for a long moment. "I gave someone a key. To feed Luigi. Pick up some clean clothes for me. I guess they," his breath hitches, his hands clenching tight until the key bites into his palm, "I guess they got curious." With effort, he refocuses on Isolde, and forces a smile. It's a horrible sort of thing, twisted and broken, but his voice is gentle as he says, "Thank you. For fixing the door. And for protecting my privacy." He takes another quick breath and searches her expression. "You probably don't want to stay. After seeing that. You don't have to."

Isolde relaxes a little more, seeming relieved that he wasn't angry with her. But she felt very bad for whomever he gave that key too. "You are welcome Alexander." Shifting and tugging at her hair a bit again. "No. I don't want to leave." Her voice is soft, focusing on him again. "It is...your room." A flicker towards the door and then back to him. "Your...hobby." That didn't feel like the right word but she didn't really know what else to call it. An obsession? Maybe. Even so. "You are a good thing and you are still my best friend. Nothing has changed."

"Are you sure?" Alexander's voice breaks a little. "I wouldn't blame you. If you did. I always knew that if anyone saw...that, they'd just put me away." He reaches up to scrub at his hair with his hands, the movement violent, painful. "I just. I just need space, sometimes. To think about things. Follow connections. I know it's fucking weird. You don't have to pretend it's not, Isolde. That's why I never showed you. I don't want..." he swallows, hard. "I don't know why he went in there. I thought he was a friend." It's wavering, uncertain. And then he turns and slams his fist into the wall beside the door, and snarls with a burst of anger. "He had no RIGHT!"

"Positive." Her voice is still soft, but sincere. Determined. "It is weird. But everything is weird. Normal is not a real thing." Isolde shifted a little bit, biting her lip. "Everyone needs...something. A thing. To help." She had origami. He had his murder shrine thing. "You are good. To me. To Luigi. To others. That- " A nod towards the door. "Doesn't change that..." There's a startled gasp when he punches the wall, taking a light step backwards. "I am sorry he did. Very sorry. Maybe ask him." A pause. "After you are not punching walls..." Leaning up against the opposite wall of the hallway, watching him warily.

"Son of a bitch," Alexander snarls, reeling back from the wall and shaking his hand. The drywall has a dent in it, now, and one of his knuckles is split. He sticks it in his mouth and sucks it, mumbling around the knuckle, "I can think of something better to punch." His head comes up and around, and he studies her, taking in her wariness and that light gasp. He looks down at his knuckles, drops his hand. "Isolde. I'm not going to hurt you. I promise."

Isolde's gaze flits from the dent, to Alexander's fist, to his face. A few times in quick succession. She doesn't even seem to realize one of her hands is gripping a couple strands of her long hair. She remains quiet for a moment, even after his assurance. Even if he did try to hurt her, Isolde was pretty sure she could take him. But that was a distant thought. One vaguely lingering on the edges of her mind. She straightens up, inhaling slowly. "I know." Is what she finally says. "...Please do not go punching this person...Let me clean your hand." The last bit doesn't sound so much like an offer but rather an order as she turns to walk into the bathroom and get out the first aid kit.

"I think I might. Punch him," Alexander says, very bluntly. He flexes his hand. "I think that is a thing that I very well might need to do." The anger is still there, roiling inside of him, making his every motion overly forceful, thrumming in the undercurrents of his voice. But he keeps his eyes on Isolde, and tries not to let it show. Or punch anything else. Yet. "I'll go sit in the living room. It's easier to treat someone in there - the bathroom is tiny." He hobble-stalks his way to the couch, and sits down. Luigi whistles down at him from the cage, and he absently whistles back without looking at the bird.

Alexander has never really seen Isolde angry. There were a couple rough days early on with the lack of pills situation, but they were fleeting and more pathetic than scary. When she comes out with the first aid kit and a damp cloth, there is a tenseness too her. Her cheeks are the slightest bit flushed and there's a tightness in her jaw. Like there are things she wants to say and she's trying very hard not to say any of them. It's probably a good thing that she doesn't know the person in danger of getting punched is Ruiz. Else she might really have things to say.

Opening the first aid kit, Isode first takes his injured hand, carefully starting to clean it up. Her focus is intense on his hand and her work. If someone had a knife they could probably cut through the silence which might just be the first one they've had that's encroaching on uncomfortable.

Alexander watches her. Partially, it's because he's never quite seen her in this sort of state, and more data is always good. But mostly, it's because watching her, trying to figure out what she's thinking, distracts him from his own simmering emotions. He unclenches his teeth as she cleans his hand. It's a very minor injury, and even he doesn't do more than wince when she disinfects it. "If you have something to say, Isolde, say it." It's blunt, curt.

Isolde doesn't speak. She just continues working quietly. In fact, it seems like she might just be ignoring him! And then he hears her. In his head. And it sounds like Isolde, but not quite. It lacks the childlike quality she tends to speak with.

You are acting like a child, Alexander. You have a right to be angry. I understand why you are angry. But making holes in the wall and going around throwing fists is not going to **solve* anything. Not in a good way. I know it's been all bad things. And I know you don't believe me when I say things will get better but acting like this isn't going to help. You need to GET BETTER. NOT hurt yourself further. And you are especially not going to be going after people in this state. Whether they deserve it or not.*

Isolde is staring at him rather intently now as she finishes applying the bandage. The tightness in her jaw as lessened some but her cheeks are still flushed. And there's a touch of a wild look in her eyes. Like she is daring him to try and tell her she's wrong.

Alexander blinks, his head flinching back a little when he first hears that voice in his head. Then, a bright, broad grin transforms his features, his anger lost for the moment in sheer delight and wonder. <<You've never spoken to me like this before,>> he returns, his lips not stirring at all. His mental voice is confident and strong, lacking the nervous curtness, and tonelessness, that his physical voice so often falls into. <<So few ever have. Is it all right? You're not scared?>>

For a moment it might seem that the actual content of what she was saying is completely lost in his happiness of the mental contact. But, after that stunned span of space, he continues, <<You're right. I know you're right. I still want to smash his face in.>> Just in case we were wondering. He takes a deep breath. <<But I won't. Unless I really have to. I won't go looking to hurt him. Or anyone. Okay?>>

Isolde looks a little startled herself when Alexander talks back to her. There's a twitch of a smile, setting his hand down in his lap. <<I have been practicing.>> Isolde offers up, closing the first aid kit and nodding. <<It is fine. What is there to be afraid of?>> A quirk of a brow- though she doesn't turn to look at him. She rises in order to put the first aid kit away and then returns. Those clear blue eyes studying Alexander for a longer moment. <<I would appreciate that. I know you worry about me. But I worry about you more I think. I will feel better when you are not as injured...>> Not that she would condone him going out and looking for people to beat up still, but at least he wouldn't be at a disadvantage when he did! <<It's...weird. Talking this way. But not...unpleasant.>>

<<People don't react well. Having me in their heads, even a little, even if I'm not reading anything. Even if they've given permission.>> Alexander's mental voice is shaded with regret. <<So, I try not to bother or frighten them, unless I have to.>> He takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, his eyes closing as he savors the contact. <<But I enjoy being able to talk like this. It's like a secret.>> His eyes fly open and he considers her, expression serious. <<I don't worry that you can't take care of yourself, Isolde.>> A sheepish pause, and then he corrects himself. <<I do a little. But only because I worry about EVERYONE. The lost places and the shadows are bigger than any of us. But I won't ever try to stop you from making your own decisions - just respect mine, too. Even if you think they're stupid. Because sometimes they are.>> He grins, and sends along a picture of a waggling dunce cap for good measure. <<But we're both adults. And I do know that. You're my friend, so I'm going to worry, but if you need me to back off, just say so.>>

Isolde wandered back over, sitting down on the couch - turned to face him. <<It is like a secret. And there is little chance of eavesdropping. I like it." There's a smile as she watches him. <<If you ever want to talk like this with me. You can. I trust you.>> She contemplates his words, nodding. There's a physical chuckle from her at the image of the dunce cap. <<I understand. And I will let you know if I need you to back off. If you are going to do something stupid, I'd rather be there if I could but I know I can't be with you all the time and vice versa.>> She puhes a hand through her hair. <<You stay here. I am going to go get dinner. I bought you some CDs to look at and listen to as well.>> She stands up and hands him the CDs from the coffee table with another smile. Then that security blanket flannel is getting pulled on and Isolde is venturing outside once more! He can feel her leaving his mind then, and she'll return not too long later with an abundance of chinese food. Yay for having some kind of steady money!