2019-07-28 - Special Delivery

Thomasina gets in first. Her eyes almost pop out of her head. August arrives shortly after her, miniwaffles from the Waffle Shoppe and a coffee for himself (from Espresso Yourself) in hand. "Morning," he says as he heads for the office.

"Morning," Thoma replies in a sing-song voice. August pauses to frown at her, continues on his way to the office.

The office, which has five very large arrangements of Spanish crocus.

Shit.

"Nice flowers!" Thoma calls from the front of the shop.

"Not a word!" August shouts back, and closes the office door decisively.

Finch arrives next, looking like she did not have a very good morning bus ride. The guy next to her smelled of vomit, which made someone else puke, and then someone else and...well you get the idea. She has her shirt pulled up over her nose flashing belly button as if she gives NO DAMNS about what anyone things. She steps into the office and blinks at the orchids. “What the hell are those?”

"Flowers," August says. He has a small, hand-written note in his hand that he's looking over. He stuff it into his desk drawer, points at the box from the Waffle Shoppe. "Waffl--" He turns to see her covering her face with her shirt. "Is something...wrong?" he asks, carefully not looking at her belly.

“I may not eat again for a month,” Finch replies crossly. “Some asshole on the bus started a puke-chain. It was definitely a glimpse into hell.” She moves over to inspect the flowers, finally letting her shirt down to its normal position. “Is that...saffron?”

"Is that what these are," Thoma says, having swanned in to grab herself a waffle. She gives August a coy little smile; he narrows his eyes at her, points back out the office door. She smiles wider, gets herself from coffee (she takes a moment to peer at the pot and murmur, 'How did you fix that chip on the handle?'), and departs.

August makes a face about the public transit horror story du jour. "Yes. It's saffron." A lot of saffron. A whole lot. He sighs, leans against his desk and folds his arms. "Want some? I can get them propagated and into pots."

“Don’t those plants cost like a zillion bucks each?” Finch asks, arching a brow at August like he may have had some sort of Ant-Man level crocus heist and didn’t tell them about it. She eyes Thomasina and smirks at the mention of the fixed chip. She does fix herself some coffee.

"Maybe, if they're the Spanish cultivar." They are, August knows it, he's just not going to bring that up. "Either way, these look like they're culinary grade, so you can save yourself some money and have high quality kheer or, whatever you want to make with it." He takes out a waffle and has a pensive bite.

“What is kheer?” Remember, this is the gourmet who dines almost exclusively on poptarts and hot pockets unless Iggy is cooking for her. Finch looks intrigued by the plants. “Where did you get them?“ she asks curiously.

Ignacio comes in SOMEHOW in a good mood! He's got a breakfast burrito he's finishing and his backpack over his shoulder. You can tell his earbuds are playing music because even his limp has a jaunty bop to it. Hey, the rest of him works just fine. "Gooooooood morning, everyone." He's got a small sandwich bag in one hand and sets his coffee down, puts the burrito to hold it, and fishes out his notebook from his back pocket to drop on teh counter. That small bag is handed to Finch though he looks confused, "Iff fat faffron?"

August sighs at Ignacio. "Yes," he says, hating this question already.

Ully comes rushing in. "Sorry, my bus was late, something about people throw--" He stops dead on his way to the waffle box. "What are all of these?"

Eyes narrowed, August says, "Saffron," to Ully.

Ully looks between the arrangements, then from Finch to Ignacio, back to August. "Who s..." His question dies unasked when August arches an eyebrow. "Right," Ully says. He gets himself some coffee, snags a waffle. "I'll just go open the shop and, mind my own business."

"That sounds like a fantastic idea," August says. Ully flicks a wide-eyed look at Ignacio and Finch before he disappears back into the shop proper.

Finch looks at the offered bag a moment before she takes it and peeks inside. Ully is watched until he departs again and she looks back at August. “Yeah it’s saffron, but he hasn’t said where he got it.”

Inside the bag is a small sunhat, straw, looking like it was for a small doll. There's also a small tin of ginger chews in there. Eyebrows arched high, impressed he slaps the back of his fingers to Ully's shoulders pointing to Ully, himself, the plants and mumbling "Ee oot uff oo fing!" Damn, get the cook excited about something. He chews his burrito and goes over to get eye level with one of the plants and turns it and turns the pot again examining it.

(*He got us a thing!)

"I don't think he got them for us," Ully whispers just before he shuts the door.

Eyes studiously on his tablet, August says, "I don't see how it matters where I got them," tone light. "They're here, I'll hand some out." He risks a glance at Ignacio, who seems less interested in their source. "I'll get some into a few pots for you, if you want. They're relatively easy to take care of, in general. Well-drained, rich soil, plant them a little before fall, cover them with mulch in the winter. Split the corms every two to three years." Maybe if he drowns them in care guidelines they'll stop asking about where these came from.

Finch grins at the contents of the bag. “For Mags I hope? I think that hat might be a bit small for me.” She shoulder bumps Iggy. “Thanks, she will love it.” She listens to the instructions like they’re stereo instructions. She just makes the plants happy with her glimmer. That seems to work. “Can you write all that down? I’m sure Gran would love to have one.”

Ignacio absently nods "Uh huh." If he didn't he did now. Man dangle the damn carrot! "This is Spanish Saffron, man. Mi papa had a couple at home. It's like the difference between eating at McDonalds and lettin me cook for you." Looking up to Finch he replies matter-of-factly as if correcting math, "Were I to buy you something small to wear it wouldn't be that." He pauses an hangs his head just slightly, "Cool shit for your hair." Stop smirking Ully. "It'd not be a teeny tiny hat." Looking up he asks with a grin, "And here I thought your forgot my birthday."

August nods at Finch. "Yeah, I'll get them printed up. There's a couple of fertilizers I have here that'll be the best ones to use, if you want to cook with them."

He sets down his tablet, has a pointed bite of waffle. "Spanish, huh?" He doesn't even try to sound convincing. "Well, you're welcome to some. Make your cooking at home a little more homey. And cheaper, since saffron costs a damned fortune lately." He can't lie, he's looking forward to not needing to buy it.

“Thanks, I know Gran will be over the moon.” Finch grins at Ignacio’s comments and flips Ully off behind her back. “Maybe I can manage one of those mini waffles now. I think the parfume de barf has vacated my sinuses.”

Ignacio is just excited about the plant and clearly missed that there's some sort of significance to his getting them when he looks up and asks, "I didn't know flower nurseries had street corners. The hell you have to go through to give these away. This is... tif you don't know how to cook with these, seriously folks, bring yours to me and I'll show you how not to waste it."

"I do know how to cook with them, but I don't need this many. I'm not looking to corner the local underground saffron black market, or anything." August's mouth flattens, since that statement begs the question of where they came from. He muscles past it. "You're welcome to some. I'll get them potted later. Finch and I can even show you how to keep 'em happy with your power, if you want to practice with them." He leans back in his chair. "What've you got planned for today?"

The growl of Itzhak's car is like a little prophecy that soon, a tall and aggravated mechanic shall appear. And lo! it is so. Even though it's a hell of a weird time for him to come around. Doesn't he have his own shop to deal with?

He comes rolling on in, saying, "Guys," and blinks at all the flowers in their hideously expensive arrangements (not that he knows that really but there's a definite aura of Costliness). "The fuck is all that? You gettin' into that kind of thing?" Which he says in a more-than-slightly accusatory tone, like they're not allowed to get into expensive flower arrangements without his approval.

Ignacio is in a glorious mood... how this is who the hell knows? He's still fascinated by the plants. When August's tone gets slightly irritated he looks up, and that warnest lop-sided smile of his reaches the boss man. See? You know it'd be coming back around. He didn't need telepathy to broadcast that, but he let it go having no horse in this race, but now several plants. "You knoooooow... To be fair you could sell em. We can cultivate it. Start a spice emporium on the side." He pauses and looks to Ully, "Dude, we can put Hutts out of business with this stuff." Because why pass up the pop culture reference? Looking to Itzhak he grins, "Seriously check this out. Still healthy. Now we jsut need like... a bazillion more. I need to send a pic of all of em to my pops. He'll get a fuckin kick outta this."

Finch sips some coffee and nibbles one of the mini waffles, leaning in a spot not taken over by the crocuses. "Hey, Itzhak," she greets, tipping her coffee cup to him. And spilling some of it down her shirt. "Dammit. Really universe? The day has JUST started."

Before August can answer Itzhak, Thomasina passes by on a route which takes her past the office bearing an armload of Spanish Moss. She says to Itzhak (too loud to be clandestine but in a tone which suggests it still is), "They were delivered." She revels in saying that word, heads back into the depths of the store proper. Ully grins, turns to follow her, adding, "Last night," with a bob of his eyebrows at Itzhak, then he too is gone.

August rolls his eyes, tries to ignore the topic of where the flowers came from in favor of their pending fate. With finality, he says, "We're not selling them. I'm happy to propagate them and give them away so people can cook with them, but selling them will just get someone's attention. Last thing I need is to be busted by the FDA for being the Saffron King of Gray Harbor."

He squints at Finch's coffee mishap, gets up to fetch her some paper towels. "Still happening, I guess." He means the weird bad luck.

Itzhak jerks his chin in an upnod to Finch and Ignacio. "Figgy, Inch. Sup. ...What are they, exactly?" He reaches out, strokes one of the vivid purple petals, delicately. "Saffron? Saffron comes from a flower?"

Then the OTHER troublemakers in the shop drop him the deets and Itzhak's eyebrows go allllll the way up. "You dog," he says to August, admiringly. "Pound 'em." He offers over his tattooed fist for the ritual bro dap.

Ignacio looks to August, "HOW can Saffron be a controlled substance? If you're snortin spice ya' doin it wrong." OH listen to that thick New York accent come out of him like peeling tires on the pavement. His eyes follow his coworkers to the back, that slow grin hanging in amusement. He greets Itzhak back, "Que pasa.' He pats him on the shoulder and wordlessly observes the misfortune excusing himself to the break room, likely to snicker with his coworkers about the amusement factor, but also to get another cup of coffee. It's not the same, but there's enough in there it'll pass. That gets set down on the counter for Finch. This team is 0 for 2 on coffee this week.

Finch gives Iggy a real smile at his thoughtfulness and she reaches up a hand to touch his hip briefly. Yeah, it’s not like the boss was WRONG about them, they just haven’t sat down and talked things out yet. “Any way, they’re beautiful, and expensive, and I’ll make sure Gran’s survives.”

August looks down at Itzhak's hand, back up at him. He spends several long, tense seconds trying to decide how to play this. Regardless anything else, no one is finding out from him where these flowers came from. Finally he seems to give up and resign himself, and daps back. Deadpan, he says, "What can I say. I give excellent head."

He nods at Finch, like he didn't just say that, says to Ignacio, "A lot of agricultural products have regs on how you can sell them. Especially ones from foreign countries which were imported. There's a reason we have 'sparkling wine'." He looks back down to his tablet. "What's up?" he asks Itzhak.

Itzhak just quirks his eyebrows, like news of August's head skills is not a surprise to him in the least. He smirks at him, blows on his knuckles and shakes out his hand like the return dap was just tooooo hot. Sometimes the guy can be utterly ridiculous, when he forgets he's supposed to be pissed off at the world.

"Well," he says, glancing casually over his shoulder to see where Ully and Thoma are. "Thought I might take you guys across. Just for a minute. So you can see a little a what I saw."

Ignacio grins a little bit on just one side at the accepted nudge back. Yeah, that chat needs to happen, but until then? Life's good. Schrodinger rules. When Itzhak mentions going over... there?!... Ignacio takes a deep breath and looks from him to Finch and, well, August, and then the counter. Man that's asking a lot of him. For now he stays silent for the consensus. Oh lookit! A Safron forrest in little pots... all over! Yeah those became super fascinating again. "What's over there you wanna find?"

Finch looks a bit taken aback at the idea of waltzing into the Veil. She swallows. “Is that such a good idea uh, right now? I mean, I dunno about you guys, but my luck has been really shit for the last couple days. Might increase the chances of running into something bad there.”

August manages to maintain his forced, blank expression in the face of Itzhak's dap. For maybe three seconds. Then he coughs a laugh, considers the suggestion of stepping into the Veil with a raised eyebrow. Thomasina and Ully are up front, soon to unlock the doors, so there's no risk of them hearing anything.

There's no denying August is interested, but Ignacio and Finch's hesitation dampens his initial reaction. He studies them, looks at Itzhak. "The two of us could go," he suggests. "They can hold down the fort, see how they feel about it once we come back." He raises an eyebrow to see how that sounds.

Itzhak spreads his hands, palms-up, saying to everyone, "I know we had real different experiences. I had a good one. You guys had bad. All I'm askin' is to give me a chance to show you that not everything over there is a horrorshow." His eyebrows go up, registering Ig and Finch's reactions. "I don't wanna find nothing, I don't wanna do nothin. Just step over the border for a little bit. ...All the bad luck goin' around's a pretty good point." He has to admit that. "That ain't a bad idea," he adds to August. "Less variables for shit to go wrong."

He must feel really strongly about this. Well he did start crying when the rest of the team didn't match his joy.

Ignacio glances to Finch and arches an eyebrow, "Actually that's a super good point." Looking to Itzhak he hesitates and asks, "Can we at least wait until shit evens out? It's not about fear it's about smart planning in case things get weird there too. I'm just... asking for a smart plan." Sanding up he pats the side of Finch's arm. Good plan. Right now Limpy McGee goes about moving the plants so they can actually DO business today.

Finch gets up and starts pacing which, considering the small space, is a bad thing. "I dunno. What if something happens to you there, we can't get you back out. I think it's all of us or nothing." She looks at Iggy as if to see where his decision lies. "I'd rather go than let the two of you go alone."

August makes a low sound, folds his arms. He can't deny the bad luck is a problem. "Thing is, we have no idea when this spell of mishaps is going to lay off. Or if it is." He hates to bring that up, but there it is. "So we might be waiting a damned long time, and honestly, I don't think we can afford to do that. We've got things hopping in and out on their own already. We've got," he gestures in the direction of the Murray House, "that house with a shit attitude. It's all coming to us. Might be time to get our sea legs on going to it." To Finch, he says, "You could get help, though. Maybe from," now he looks to Ignacio, "other people you know who are like us. That's if there's even a problem."

"Guys, he makes a really good point. We might not get the luxury of waiting for the luck weather to turn before something else comes at us." Itzhak wants to pace too, but Finch is using the pacing area for the moment, so he waits his turn. He pulls his keys out of a pocket to fidget with, and looks sidelong at Ig. "Nacio, if you ain't scared, you're dumb as hell, and I know you ain't dumb. This isn't safe. It's necessary." He tips a hand over. "That said, you guys decide. Okay?"

Ignacio keeps one eye on Finch but doesn't disturb her pacing. To the two old guys working on staying rational but reasonable. "Cool so we give it, what, like a week? Two at most, but like a week? Make sure people are prepared for the trip. And if we need it? Yeah. I can grab Julia, Raf... Tobin seemed to know soemthin." Seee? Plan without drinking himself into a hole using more pills as a flotation device. The comment comes to him about being scared and he snorts shaking his head. "I think I have a clearer idea of teh scary part of the other side more than anyone in this room and I'm aimin to keep it that way."

Finch slumps back into her seat as things go back and forth like a tennis match. She rubs at the bridge of her nose. "Ig, I think they want to go now."

August sighs, gives Ignacio a steady look. "That's a good thing to want, but it's not likely to happen. There's no safety in this world." He looks at one of the crocus arrangements, gets an absent look on his face. "I appreciate that you don't want other people going through what you have. But if that house we went into is any indication, we're too late on that one. By a long shot. Things are coming." He nods at Finch, but continues addressing Ignacio. "We're better off prepared than not. And we can start, by looking through the door."

Itzhak, flipping his keys over and over, nods, looking at Ignacio from under uplifted brows. "Fair enough. We'll set a date, see if luck's changed by then. ...Talking about luck like it's a traffic report is weird, did you guys notice that?" His expression goes softer when he looks at Finch. "Aw, Fincheleh." Itzhak doesn't follow that up with anything. He's just verbally nudging her, apparently.

Then, when August suggests looking through the door...Itzhak straightens up with a start. "I could do that, I bet! We don't have to go through. I could actually open a door and we could look through it. Maybe it'd be a window in that case. Anyway, I bet I could."

The Twenty-somethings are on the same page of Operation: Judicious Caution. Sure he's come up with three- FOUR! He thought of another one! Four people to call for help. When Finch says now he does look vaguely worried. Looking up to Itzhak he says with that look of excitement, "Sweet. I loved the movie the Mist." Yeah tearing holes open. Alien bugs. Good times. Man he really found his calling as an author. He could have gone into acting had he the discipline. Pausing he holds up both hands to stave off being chided, again, and justly for it . "It-Zee, look the... THe last time this happened four of us went over. I told you that. And we watched Maritza... get fucking torn apart and Rico? Well he never made it back. Mark and I got out of there barely. I was bleedin real bad and had to try to fix my leg and it... fuckin... shattered like lightening from one end to the fucking other. There were four of us. We got stuck until we were lucky enough to find a hole on accident. I don't.." He winces fingers clenching into fists to hold onto himself and not lose all his nerves. "I can't watch that happen to my friends again... and now if we don't just jump in it's like ... neglect. Soooo ya got my balls in a vice here, man. I didn't even get dinner out of it first." His jaw tightens and the pain of the memory flashes across his face for a moment before getting buried, hard. "It's not that I don't... believe you... it's just... taking it for granted? It gets people killed, or worse."

Finch reaches a hand to pat Itzhak's arm. "Yeah, I noticed. I've had one calamity after another and it's exhausting. Same with the rest of you?" She looks at the others, brows raising. "I mean so far just today there was that puke chain on the bus ride in, and spilling coffee on myself. And I've only been awake for like 45 minutes."

The idea of peeking in a window seems far less dangerous. Finch ponders and nods. "Provided we anchor ourselves on this side so, you know, things don't drag us through?" She hopes that might help Iggy be less freaked.

August blinks at Itzhak. "You can do that? Open a...window, to just look?" August hadn't meant that, but now he likes that idea a lot. For one thing, Finch is already calmer about it. For another, it gets his immediate curiosity satiated ('what does it look like over there') and maybe gives Finch and Ignacio a gentler way to face it.

He ducks his head and looks away as Ignacio comes clean. "We're not taking it for granted, Ignacio. Waiting a week to see if the luck straightens out's entirely doable." He makes a face at Finch's question. "Yeah--had a disastrous afternoon the other day." He can't complain about afterward, but what a trial it was to get there.

Itzhak's eyes trail away from Iggy as he keeps talking. He finds something else to stare at while he's taking all that in. But he's listening; his expression transmutes in horror, going pale and taut. "Jesus Christ, de Santos. Why didn't you fuckin' tell me that?" He waves sharply, shaking his head, "I didn't mean that, forget it." His mouth mouth twists downward. "That's how you got messed up? Oy vey izt mir. Uhm." Itz scrubs a hand through his curly hair, somewhat at a loss. "Shit. Okay. I didn't know."

Ignacio doesn't break down, not on Rex Manning Day. His eyes fix on the saffron plant. He murmurs quietly, "Yeah... well... not your fault I'm... kinda a dick when it comes to talking about shit." His explanation isn't great but, eh, it's a work in progress. Defeated in this elbows rest on the counter, and fingers lace together and press against his upper lip. He puts this one with Finch telling her, "Call it."

“All right then. A window. I’m gonna get some rope and harnesses of the truck.” That sounds like Finch is in and ready to do this. Provided the guys are okay with a little light bondage.

"A window it is." August gives Itzhak a small smile. "Do we need to find a specific...kind of place, or anything? Or can you do that wherever?"

Itzhak can't pretend that he's not excited to show them what he knows, but he still makes a token effort of coolness. "Okay. You need to find somewhere thin enough you can get through. I noticed there's one out behind the shop," he tips his head towards the back. "They move around a lot. This one here, it's lucky. Maybe bad lucky, or good lucky, who knows? I can use that."

Setting a hand on Ig's shoulder, he gives him a bracing little shake. "It's gonna be okay, Naishka. C'mon."