2019-08-08 - The Annual Hispanic Heritage Festival

Fried Fish is actually closed today, but the Velez family has a food tent with more traditional Cuban food and drink offerings. Fortunately for Julia, this is the one day she can guilt the rest of her family into running things and let her have some time off, so she can enjoy herself in a red and black 50's pin-up dress, hair tossed to one side, lips painted scarlet and cat's eye sunglasses providing her eyes some shade. Did someone just time travel to Havana in the twentieth century? She's got a beer in hand and loiters near the stage, watching pairs of children perform Chilean folk dances with the charming awkwardness that children possess.

It's hard to say that Alexander is feeling entirely festive, at the moment. But he's always liked the Festival, in his own weird way, so rather than stare at sleeping people in hospital beds, he's here, overdressed for the weather with a long-sleeved button down shirt worn over a faded band t-shirt, and jeans. He's skulking his way through the crowds, mostly avoided by the townies, but stopping to listen to a group of musicians right near where Julia is hanging out, with some evidence of pleasure on his lean features. His toe might even be tapping.

Kelsey is, admittedly, pretty tipsy from the two shots of tequila and one and a half glasses of rum and coke. Her notebook has been tosses into the passenger seat of her car and then she was leading Dante to the Boardwalk where all the music and stuff was coming from! And the food smelled pretty dang good too. She's clad in a pair of ripped jeans and a Guns & Roses T-Shirt. Long blonde hair in a loose ponytail. "Alright, let's see what you're gonna buy me first." Is said to Dante. She is shameless. He's definitely more well off than she is - and even if she likes his writing, she's gonna at least try to take advantage of his wallet while they're both a little inebriated.

Dante looks...well, far too...English for this festival. And yes, a little pre-drunk. He stumbles behind Kelsey, breathing in a lungful of air. "What is it about food cooked outside that just smells so marvellous?" He smiles a bit dopily and moves through the crowd, murmuring a polite 'Hello there,' to anyone he catches looking. And maybe a little hello there at anyone dressed a bit flirtatiously. "I'm liking this already. But please tell me there's alcohol." He's wearing a robin's egg blue linen blazer and black slacks with a white button up with black buttons. Definitely not a small town look.

There are only a handful of people in Gray Harbor who actually knew Alexandria Falco when she had a human hair color and skin tone... and it's probably going to stay that way. Festival or not, Lex arrives in her usual assortment of black on black on black. Today comes in the flavor of high waisted black faux-trousers with suspenders over a tank top. Her hair has been left loose across her back, aside from a few useless bobby pins that have already failed to keep it out of her eyes. She stays near the side of the boardwalk as she near the festival, tattooed arms crossed, and the entire event -- and crowd -- regarded with slightly narrowed eyes.

Ignacio remembered what day it is, lookie that! It's hot as hell which means short sleeve button up shirt and slacks. He might have gotten the hot tip about it being a Havana attire revival. Hey he might be a smartass but the Spaniard can damn well dress when he's not in front of a deep fryer. He takes his time to get a look at the place while finding the woman what informed him he was going to find his brother and show up. That lopsided smile that warms on the unaffected side of his face alights finding Julia, "Heeeey, Bonita. This is one hell of a turnout."

The current song of the musicians ends, and Alexander turns away, prepared to eel his way through the crowd. Dante and Kelsey get a thoughtful look. Suspicious, but...well, it's the Festival, and tourists are everywhere. Even ones who stand out. Still, his eyes narrow and he tracks them for a moment or two before seeing Lex. There's a nod in her direction, and something almost like a smile. "Miss Falco," he greets, when their eyes meet, having to raise his voice above the music.

Aidan might have Hispanic Heritage! Your guess is as good as his, frankly. But either way he definitely likes festivals, and festivals that result in lots of people being where he most often works are an extra bonus. So he's here, in bright yellow jeans, black Docs, and an untucked light pink shirt covered in a pattern of various scattered kinds of cartoon ice creams and slices of cake. The sleeves are rolled up to the elbow, the top three buttons are undone, and he's got a top hat, the latter probably mostly for the sake of his magic act. Probably. Certainly it's been used for that, and he's in the midst of moving coins and small bills from inside it into his pocket as the small knot of people who'd been watching drift away toward other, more properly-themed attractions. He's glancing at the crowds and booths as if meanwhile deciding where to go next, so he catches one of Dante's 'hello theres' and gives him a grin and a passing "Hey," in return. The hat emptied, he pops it back onto his curls, and reaches to adjust the little bits that turn his table into something like a wooden messenger bag, glancing to Baylee beside him with another grin. "Hungry? 'cause I'm pretty much starving with how that all smells."

There is alcohol. Oh yes, there is alcohol. Everything from beers to specialty cocktails like rumchata and mohjitos and of course, the Velez family is offering Cuban coffee which is like a normal cup of coffee, only times ten thousand, and hence in tiny, tiny cups. There is also all kinds of food! Mexican tacos, Guatemalan tamales, Cuban ceviche. And everything from festival branded items to Cuban cigars and pinatas from Mexico and candles for the staints and clothing and such are on sale.

"I know, right?" Julia's red lips smack with satisfaction. "I mean, I did my bit with the organizing committee but you know it's mostly the business organizations that do the bulk of the work. And the family tent's doing well." She sips her beer, looking like she's a girl from Havana in the 50's in her pin up dress (possibly via TARDIS) and cat's eye glasses. "You gonna dance with me later?" Bum leg be damned. "We'll go for a slow one. I'll find me a guy who can actually salsa for the rest." Said with challenge.

"It's not a real party if there isn't alcohol." Kelsey agreed with Dante wholeheartedly. A curious nod of greeting given to Aidan, because who even wears a top hat anymore? The alcohol had relaxed her somewhat. Not as guarded or, let's be honest, bitchy as she might normally be. "So let's find it. And the food." She eyes people here and there as they weave through the crowd. "Oh hey, Sangria!" Kelsey turns about 65 degrees to head towards the pop up table where it's being doled out. Alexander gets full on stared at for a few beats when she sees him seeing her. Not quite a challenge, but she seems to recognize him, even if he doesn't know who she is. That happens a lot. Kelsey knows of or has seen a lot of people since she's lived here, but hasn't really made herself known.

Then she's focusing on the Sangria, even giving the person a smile as she takes the cup and drops a couple dollars.

Guess who has zero Hispanic heritage? Baylee. But Baylee is very supportive of Aidan and his magic shows, also of food and drink. Although all she's got in her hand so far is a plastic cup with a soda in it, sans any and all alcohol. "Love something to eat." She replies, patiently waiting for Aidan to sort himself out before she glances around, eyes tracking Dante and his familiar accent for a moment before she swings her attention back to Aidan.

Miss Falco. Lex's eyes flash upward and toward the source of the name, though for once, she's not immediately chastising whatever unlikely soul failed to strip her name down to 'Lex'. Instead, she's flashing Alexander a one-sided smirk, and after another scrutinizing look toward the forming crowd, she's sidling toward Alexander almost like she learned it from the man himself. "Hey. If Ruiz shows up, warn me, mm? And why the hell are you here? I figured Gram would haunt my ass if I didn't show for a few minutes..." She can't exactly be quiet in this environment, but nor is she speaking much louder than necessary to make it to Alexander's ears.

"I like the look," says Dante to Aidan in passing. "So few people int hese small towns who take fashion risks." But then Kelsey is tugging him towards Sangria Town. Alexander's look doesn't stand out too much for him. He's a six foot two Englishman who is usually the best dressed (and most overdressed) person in any situation. He's sort of used to getting looks. "Sangria is just watering down perfectly good wine with fruit juice. Definitely not efficient alcohol." Not that he needs efficient alcohol now by the sloppy smile.

Dante gets a few dark looks from passersby at the remark concerning Sangria. But at the end of the day, a gringo is being parted of his money, so as long as he doesn't pull out a MAGA hat, he'll be okay.

Alexander raises his eyebrows at Lex. "You haven't heard." His voice is flat, and he moves closer. "The Captain will not be able to join us. There was an," a pause, "incident last night. He's in the hospital, along with a couple of others." The almost-a-smile tilts sideways into concern. "He will recover, I think." It's added like an offering. "And I like the festival. It's loud and pleasant, and most people are having a good time. I usually come." Then a raised eyebrow. "Why are you here?" His eyes continue to flick among the crowds when he's not talking, noting familiar and unfamiliar faces. Baylee and Aidan are nodded at, as are Ignacio and Julia...although Ignacio gets a sort of frown along with that.

August almost never eats food he didn't obtain and cook himself...but the Hispanic Heritage Festival is a notable exception, not the least because he has no idea how to make pupusas, but can't get enough of them. Also, if that mole booth is here again, he has to have some of that. And the empanadas. And so on. If he could convince them to run it every weekend, he'd make a solem promise to devote one Saturday to it.

He has to settle for once a year instead. He stopped off at the shop to change before picking up Eleanor, switching to a pair of black cargo shorts and deck shoes to go with his slate blue Henley. It's warm out, he doesn't intend to get too hot. A bit of a black tattoo is just visible near his left knee.

"Want some sangria?" he asks Eleanor as they walk.

Kelsey fails to stifle a laugh at Dante's comment. "Then you go find us some more tequila if you got a problem with it Taylor." She grins, but hands him a cup of the Sangria nonetheless. Taking a healthy sip of her own. "But it's pretty fuckin' good. You should definitely drink it." Adding as she pushes a hand through her loose strands of hair. Eyeing some of the nearby food stands and August gets a lift of her Sangria glass since she had just seen him recently after all.

"Sangria sounds perfect," Eleanor admits with a smile for August. She's in denim shorts and a red and white striped cotton top with white keds on her feet. Her hair is loose, and she's wearing her glasses still, because her contacts won't arrive for a few more days. Her hand slides into the horticulurist's as she takes in the sights and sounds of the festival. "I think I had a banana empanada at one of these one time that was the best thing I ever ate. Maybe we can find those too."

Hospital? Lex's 'brow arches at Alexander's update, but rather than show the due roomately-concern, she's lifting a tattooed shoulder in a dismissive sort of gesture. "Moved out. And cops are like cockroaches. They don't die." Spoken like a true low-life. "I'm here 'cause... fuck. I don't know why I'm here. It seemed like a good idea twenty minutes ago." Back to eying the crowd, staying close to Alexander.

"Have a rumchata, papi." Julia calls out to Dante. "You won't be disappointed." Alexander gets a nod, her eyes hidden from behind her sunglasses. A she finishes her bear, she does a little bounce in her heals. "Ayyy! August! Hi, c'mere, who's your girlfriend?" Red lips curve in a pleased smile as she gently elbows Ignacio.

Dante is, despite his dark hair, so white that if he was anywhere but the Pacific Northwest, he'd be a human lobster. "I wish I spoke Spanish. Instead they just made me learn rubbish languages like Latin." Then, he straight up giggles. Yes, he's definitely a bit drunk. "I'm at a Latin festival and I speak Latin but it's useless." He's just in his cups to find this really funny. So much so that he nearly spills the sangria that Kelsey hands to him. He's too busy laughing at his own stupid joke to think about food. Only Julia's words brings him back. "I will take that suggestion, my dear. After I drink this delicious, if inefficiently boozy, concoction." Slurrp.

Ignacio snappoints, double guns to Julia, "Them's fightin words, amiga." He pauses and squints one eye still amused, "Granted it's a fight I'll loose but fightin words. Yeah, I can manage that though." He wobbles to the side at the elbow flicking a hand to August and notes to Julia, "That's gotta be the lady with the plants. I'm guessin her name is Saffron. I dunno. It's a hunch." A very very bad hunch.

Alexander gives Lex a long, considering look. His mouth twitches downward at the cockroaches remark, but he doesn't argue about it. Just seems to file it away in whatever passes for his mental archives. "Perhaps you're here to have fun. Lots of people are. It won't ruin your veneer of world-weary cynicism too much, Miss Falco." Is he...teasing Lex? He might be, although his tone is almost perfectly bland. He starts slipping through the crowd, making his way towards the alcohol booths and studying them with an academic sort of interest. Close enough to catch Dante's words, and say, "Latin is not a useless language. It's not directly utilized, but can be invaluable for navigating legal and medical texts." Because that's totally an argument Dante wants to have with a probably-crazy guy right now.

August squeezes Eleanor's hand, guides the two of them towards Julia. "Banana? That sounds amazing. Hopefully they'll still have some." Once they're close enough, he says, "Eleanor, this is Julia. Julia, Eleanor. She's, ah," he gives Eleanor a significant, sideways look, "working with Itzhak and the others and I with some things." A bob of his eyebrows, emphasizing these things are not mundane things. So probably Veil things.

Aidan give Dante a quick, cheerful tip of the hat in return for the remark on his ensemble, and Alexander gets a quick little wave to his nod, followed by a tiny blink when he catches the man's companion and a continuation of the wave and a bit of an upnod to her. Table handled, he reaches over to claim Baylee's free hand with his own, and starts threading through the crowds to look the stalls over. The various drink options get some glances, but the ones focusing there get skipped nonetheless, in favour of pausing in front of another. "...empanadas?" he suggests to the more feminine of the British-accent wielders in his general vicinity.

Eleanor beams a bright smile at Julia. "Hello! Nice to meet you. I've probably seen you around; I own Espresso Yourself so most everybody wanders through at some point. The festival is amazing." She speaks quickly, chattery, like she's nervous. It's because she is. She's a great business woman, an excellent researcher, but she's less of a social butterfly and more of an awkward moth.

"World-weary what the fu -- where are you going?" Lex counters Alexander, pierced 'brows knitting as she regards the retreating man's back. God knows she spent enough time way-back-when tailing behind him... why not now? "Don't leave me alone here," she chastises once she's close enough to... you know, do so. And damnit, he's gotten them into the crowd. Then, only a bit defensively, "I don't have a veneer, I have... decor."

Kelsey looks completely amused as Dante is making himself laugh. She knocks back the rest of the Sangria and tosses the cup into a nearby trashcan. "I am totally not driving you home." She mused. And while everyone is oh so busy chatting it up (and Dante is busy slurping up that Sangria) Kelsey moves like she's going to walk past Dante towards one of the food carts, taking a few bills out of his jacket pocket as she does so. So smooth. "Thanks for dinner Taylor. Be right back." As she heads over towards one of the many carts with her new found riches. Not really seeming to concerned about being caught.

"Those are those little pasties, right?" Baylee wonders as she trails along behind Aidan, only to come to a stop when he does, her attention shifting towards the food stall in question. "I'm up for your empanadas..." She only sounds mildly curious about what might be going into the food, but not enough to stop and ask, instead she moves to the front of the stall regardless of others that might be waiting and holds up two fingers, "Two please!"

"I expressly try to avoid navigating legal and medical texts," says Dante to Alexander, with a sloppy grin. He makes eye contact while he tips back the sangria. He's drinking it rather fast. He totally misses Kelsey's light-finger lifting of his cash, but he's feeling pretty comfortably numb at the moment. Someone could probably stick him in the side with keys and he'd just twitch.

She grins at Ignacio, "As long as you can shake it - hey, is Finch coming? You should do a little shaking with her." Cue brow waggle, and then there's August, coming over. "Hola." she greets to Eleanor, but looks between her and August. "Aww, thanks, but it's not just me. I mean, I'm part of it, but the Hispanic Business Owners Association organizes the whole thing, you know? And yeah, Espresso Yourself's pretty good." She nods in appreciation. "Little businesses, we gotta stick together."

Alexander stares flatly at Dante, meeting the eye contact with a reptilian sort of impassivity. "That's unfortunate," he all he says, after a far too long bit of silence. Then a blink, glance aside as Lex joins him. "Did you want something to drink, Miss Falco? You're legal now, right?" Again, that moment of teasing. "I'll buy you a drink. One drink. Maybe," a glance over towards Julia, "rumchata?" When he does, he notices August and Eleanor, and both get genuine, if brief, smiles.

Kelsey returns not too long later with some kind of overly large quesadilla stuffed with carnitas and some kind of spicy sauce. She falls back in, closer to Dante but she can still survey most of the people. Faces she's seen in passing here and there. Taking a bite out of the quesadilla. Content to listen for the moment while she eats.

Ignacio warms a lopsided smile and offers a hand to Eleanor, "Suuuup Roen, and you must me Saffron?" HE catches the name "Ah, Eleanor I took a guess. We heard all about you. Except your name. Apparently. Ignacio. Nice to meet you and welcome." Man he's charming enough to be pandering for charities, but it seems he's just cruisin for a bruisin." Both eyebrows go up to Julia promising, "Oh I'll shake later. Oye the shakings, but- okay you're the lady that owns the Red Cross of Coffee. Savin lives by keeping people caffeinated and less crabby. You've got to try the Cubano beans. It's pretty bad ass."

Alexander... teases? This is strange, even for Gray Harbor. At least it would be, if Lex weren't tipping the man a toothless scowl that suggests she's quite used to it. "Yes. I'm legal. But I'm working tonight, so gotta stay all... sober and shit. Horchata?" Hey, when a man offers to buy you a drink -- even if it's 'just one' -- you don't say no. Well, that could be argued. But Lex is still glued to Alexander's shadow, and he's actually the more normal looking of the two.

August smiles down at Eleanor, releases her hand so he can rub her back reassuringly. "That we do," he agrees. "So if they can be talked into doing this more freqently," he gestures around them, "please let me know." He smiles, tilts his head in a 'you have at least one guaranteed customer for life.

He narrows his eyes at Ignacio, smile still good natured yet edged in a warning. "Don't shake too hard, or I'm making you do paperwork while your leg heals up from it." Of 'saffron' he says nothing. Yet. His attention drifts to Alexander for a moment, and he nods and smiles a hello.

Dante is apparently not put off by Alexander. Instead of looking thrown off, he winks instead. He stands there, sort of weaving a little in place, his sangria getting emptier and emptier. When Kelsey returns, he eyes the quesadilla. "Where did that come from?"

Eleanor returns Alexander's smile with a small wave of hello. She blinks at Ignacio owlishly for a moment before shaking his head. "Oh, yes, nice to meet you as well Ignacio. Cubano beans? That sounds like a must-try. Thank you for the tip. Oh August made some lovely saffron rice the other day. It was delicious." She has no clue, clearly.

Julia readily explains to Alexander, "It's what happens when horchata and rum have a beautiful baby." Of course, if he doesn't know what horchata is, that's as clear as mud. There's an aside to Ignacio in Spanish, "Ella parece agradable, pero ambos sabemos que las mujeres blancas no pueden hacer un buen cafe cubano." She flashes another smiel at Eleanor. "Come by the Fried Fish shack sometime, and I'll make a proper Cuban coffee for you myself."

Alexander is winked at. But a flashy dressed Brit. Click click click. There can't be THAT many flashy dressed British men with attitude in a small Pacific Northwest town. Right? So, he says, quite seriously to Dante, "Are you Alistair Carver?"

Over there. Is what can be gathered from Kelsey's wave of her free hand towards somewhere behind her. Though she does offer a piece towards Dante. After all, his money bought it! Her eyebrows raise when Alexander asks the man if he's someone she hasn't ever heard of before. Interesting. Sorting through the alcohol muddling of her mind to try and take some mental notes as she takes another bite of food.

"...maybe?" Aidan has a vague idea at best what a pasty is, at least when it's pronounced that way. And he's pretty sure the other pronunciation isn't applicable here. "They're, like... turnovers. Only usually not fruit, except, sometimes." Which definitely narrows it down. In this case they turn out to be beef, onion, garlic, and egg. Probably also some other stuff. He gets a soda as well, which means now both his hands are busy again. Alas. A few people passing by get greetings like he knows them, but none of them are PCs so they don't really matter. Life's cruel that way.

"Am I...? No, no. But is he good looking? Should I be flattered or insulted?" says Dante to Alexander. Then, without looking, he takes the bit of quesadilla being offered and chews on it. Then he looks to Kelsey. "Do you know who he's talking about? Oh look..." he chugs his sangria, coughs up a bit of fruit, "...I'm out of alcohol."

"Mm." Baylee is willing to let Aidan's incomplete knowledge slide. This time. But it's only because there is actually food being gotten, and since she's got no free hands either she instead loops an around through his, careful to not knock any food or drink down, and then starts to drag him back into the crowds, "Isn't that the Illuminati guy?"

"Try the mango pastelitos!" Julia calls out to Aidan. She points in the direction of the Velez table again, and well , pastelitos are basically like empanadas anyway. And these are with mango.

Kelsey shakes her head. "Not a clue. Who is he?" The first half to Dante, the second half to Alexander. She hands Dante a few bills that may or may not be part of what she took from him. "Go getcha some more then. And get me something. " Because she said so. So demanding.

Alexander tilts his head to one side. "If I knew what he looked like, then I wouldn't have to ask you if you were him." It's a flat observation. Then thinks. "Probably insulted. He seems to be a man to inspire strong opinions." A shrug. "Sorry to bother you." A glance at Kelsey. "Someone I wanted to meet. Sorry to bother you." But he doesn't actually stop staring. And finally adds. "Who are you, then?" to Dante.

Ignacio drops his hands in his pockets smiling hard back to August. Yes. Yes he knows what he's done. "Eeeeh, Julia, El mundo solo necesita un maestro." Looking back to Eleanor he confides, out loud, "You'll love it. They're very proud of their coffee. Huge tradition preparing it so it doesn't taste like scalded adrenaline." He looks to Roen and flinches slightly. "Touche, jefe. Touche." Looking to where the attention swivels he arches an eyebrow up, "Alexander with no nickname right? Good to see you." Seeing Dante out there he up nods and takes a glace to where Rafael might be and if he's performing yet or not.

"And horchata is amazing all on its own," August adds in an aside.

He tells Eleanor, "The saffron that went into that rice has a story to it," now Ignacio gets a look as dry as Eastern Oregon, "which I can tell you all about over some empanadas and pupusas." The perfect dinner. "And maybe some of those too," he adds, nodding at Julia.

"You know how I love a good story," Eleanor quips back to August. She looks back to Julia and Ignacio. "Does anyone have banana empanadas this year? The last time I had them I pretty much craved them ever since."

With Alexander's attention evidently lost to the British-guy-who-isn't-Carver, Lex is sighing audibly and sidestepping those who seem to be gathering around her supposed cover. Drink and tagalong forgotten, the tattooist is beginning her retreat back to the edge of the boardwalk, arms sliding across her chest once more.

"Are you looking for Rafael?" Julia asks Ignacio, and in the same breath to August, "Is Itzhak coming? I want him to see me in this dress and count how many shades between red and purple he goes." This is accompanied by the sweetest smile.

Kelsey shrugs, she's not bothered! But she's happy to continue being nosy and soaking up the conversation around her. Even if she might not be able to remember half of it later.

The sound of his name brings his attention away from Dante for a moment, to study Ignacio. There's a short, sharp nod. "Yes. Alexander Clayton. Ignacio," a pause as he thinks, "DeSantos?" He notices Lex sliding away, and gives her a puzzled look. "Did you not want a rumchata?" he asks, but doesn't try to stop her. That would involve touching, after all, and he's actually managing to remain relatively unbuffeted among the crowd by dint of tiny adjustments and outright twitches away from people who get too close.

"Is this a little tip for my G-string?" says Dante as he rubs the bills together at Kelsey. "Wait, why are you giving..." he pats his jacket pocket. "Cheeky." But he doesn't seem to mind, judging by the grin. He bites into what's left of his quesadilla, then raises his brows at Alexander. "I'm Dante Taylor, globetrotting writer and apparently, eater of quesadillas. I'm off to fetch a drink for Miss Kelsey here. Would you like something?"

"I don't think abuela made banana, but you could try one of the other booths that have a Cuban flag on it?" Julia suggests to Eleanor.

August makes an 'enh' sound, half-shrugs at Julia's question. "Probably not," he admits. "He was in a bad mood earlier." Through sheer force of will he doesn't glance at Alexander when he says that. "More likely to go to the gym and wail on a punching bag for an hour or two." Which is better than getting utterly wasted on SoCo, at least. "I'll make sure to give him plenty of flak for it next time I see him."

He murmurs to Eleanor, "I guess I can look up a recipe and fuck it up a half-dozen times trying to replicate it."

Having spotted Alexander earlier, Aidan doesn't even have to look before confirming to Baylee, "Mr. Clayton? Yeah." He does look, it's just that he's a few couple words in before he's paying less attention to his empanada and more to the crowd. Just in case there's some other Illuminati guy he forgot about. These things do happen. "Wanna go say hi?" Though it's going to have to wait at least one moment, because he did catch Julia's recommendation, and calls back a "Thanks!" while directing their trajectory to pass by the pastelitos on the way. He can probably hold one in the same hand as his empanada, right?

Eleanor grins back at August and murmurs back, "I'll happily be the taste tester. I'm pretty sure your cooking is better than mine by a large margin." She does ok, but nothing fancy. Are empanadas fancy? She really needs to get out more.

"We can." Baylee is just along for the ride at this point, literally following where ever it is that she is drug by Aidan. Most of her attention seems to be on consuming the empanada in her hand, without making an entire mess of it all while walking. It's a fine art.

Julia offers Aidan a salute, and then looks around to her little clutch of people. "Eleanor, you should get August to dance with you. If he can't handle salsa, one of the slower songs should do. And don't worry about sucking. People won't care." She doesn't say why (because they white).

Ignacio pulls out his phone from his pocket and upnods to Julia, "I'm a send him a picture and translate teh swearing at me in response into hex code and that should tell us exactly what shade of red he is." Yeah he's in a mood. Looking to Alexander he nods, "Yeah that's right. And your shadow iiiiis... escaping?" An eyebrow goes up at the fleeing Lex. "How you been, man?"

Alexander is apparently oblivious to anything he could have done to put Itzhak in a bad mood. But, really, that should surprise no one. He continues to consider Dante, head cocked to one side. "Dante Taylor. I know that name. What do you write?" Because now it will BOTHER him if he doesn't know. He doesn't answer the other question, but if Dante starts to move, Alexander moves with him. Totally not like a stalker. More, it's useful to use the tall Brit as a way to pass through the crowd untouched.

"Sober, Alexander," Lex is offering over a shoulder to the man at the mention of rumchata, as bizarre as the word sounds from the woman. "Gotta work tonight. People got issues with drunk people drawin' on them with needles." She's pausing in her retreat as she's actually labeled 'shadow', and stopping to face Ignacio is all of the 5'4" technicolor glory. Not correcting him -- that would be talking -- but giving him A Look.

Julia takes a moment to text someone, and then puts her phone away briefly to strike a pin-up girl pose for Ignacio, one hand at the waist and the other behind her head.

"Yes, I get that a lot," says Dante to Alexander. He makes his way towards whatever the closest place dispensing alcohol. "I write horror, mostly. But some local myths and legends volumes as well. Now..." he looks around. "The young lady said to try something called a rumchata. Do you know...ah, here we are." He steps up to a booth and fingers the cash. "Would you like something, then?" he says to the intense shadow he seems to have picked up.

"Brave," August says of Eleanor's willingness to taste test. He arches an eyebrow at Julia's suggestion. He watches Ignacio and Julia prepare to torment Itzhak, makes a mental note to text him about this all later.

"I can't salsa," he admits to Eleanor, totally unnecessarily, "but a slow dance I'm just fine at. So, food first, or dance first?"

"Then have a horchata," Alexander tells Lex. "It should not significantly impact your tattooing skills." A grumpy look towards Ignacio. "And I'm not keeping her captive. She can't escape if she's not captive." It seems to be a sort point. Harumph. He turns back to Dante. "...I think I've read some of your books. Interesting. Are you researching local mythologies, then?" A spark of interest that isn't all suspicion lights his face, although he shakes his head at the offer of a drink.

Eleanor blushes at the suggestion to dance. "Oh, um, food first I think? I'm less likely to smash your toes on a full stomach. Or something." She's almost as red as her hair. Yep.

"Yeah, he left my leash at home," is Lex's flat add-on to Alexander's explanation of her current status. As for why she's lurking in his shadow? Well, that's a story for another day. Because... she doesn't look like she feels like sharing, all arms-crossed and eyes half-narrowed. Maybe she did spent too much of her formative youth around Alexander. "Horchata works."

Julia pulls out her phone again and resumes texting. But as she does, she's scoping out the festival patrons, just sort of making sure familiar faces are enjoying themselves.

"I am, yes," says Dante to Alexander. He's not sure if the other man seems odd because he's currently quite drunk or if that's objectively what he is. So instead he just smiles politely, and orders his drink. "My nonfiction series is called Dark Heart. There's three volumes, and this part of the world might be number four. If I can get people to talk to me about the possible strange happenings in this town. Ah, cheers," he says to the person at the booth who gives him the drink. He sips it and nearly spits it back out into the glass. "Oh, that is...too much for me." He touches the back of his hand to his mouth.

Aidan does a very good job of dragging Baylee around! It possibly helps that he's tall even before you add the hat into the mix, and definitely helps that he's pretty shameless about angling into the spaces between passing people. And several decide discretion is the better part of valour when it comes to making sure they don't end up with empanada on their clothes. So eventually, Aidan and Baylee and what remains o their complement of folded pastries are within suitable greeting range of the general knot of PCs. "Hey, Mr. Clayton," he greets more directly this time, with a grin that he turns on the definitely-not-a-shadow next, "Hey, Lex," and then on everyone he doesn't have names for yet who happens to be nearby. Though Julia gets a, "You were right, this is pretty great," and a small lift of the pastry-hand, presumably regarding the less-bitten mango-filled section of his meal.

Ignacio takes a picture of himself and sends a return text out to Itzhak and announces sadly, "He ain't showing up, but, I'd give that a 6.3 on teh vermillion scale." Looking to Roen he squints and looks back to Eleanor, "He said he knew how. I have ten bucks riding on how this turns out.

August smiles at the blush. "Food first," he agrees. "You can step on my toes all you like, they're the one part of me that's in pretty good shape. Come on, let's get some of those empandas while they still have some." He nods at Julia and Ignacio, leads Eleanor towards the first of what will be many booth visits. After all, he has to buy a compliment of t-shirts to use as spares any time a tree attempts to kill him on the job. It's happened three times this week already.

"I don't have a leash," Alexander points out, clearly the place where sarcasm goes to die. "I have a conure, and he doesn't require a leash." But a quick smile at Lex, before he orders the woman a horchata, pulling out a couple of wrinkled bills to pay for it. Dante's words surprise a laugh out of the man and he blinks a couple of times. "Really." It's amused and flat at the same time. As Aiden approaches, he gives the younger man a nod, before turning back to Dante. "I think, if you stay, that you will find plenty of material for your book."

Eleanor gives Julia and Ignacio a wave and she wanders off with August, leaning her head on his arm. "You say that now, but the way our luck has been going the last week or so..." yeah. That picnic was quite a comedy of errors.

"And then have a stroke and forget it all," Lex follows up Alexander's response to Dante, which may or may not be becoming a trend. "Thanks." That's for the ordered drink. She's staying put for that, at least.

"Ohmygod, Nacio, he's being such a .... wait." Julia looks up and stares at spitting dude. "The same guy who wrote the Merrymeet books?"

"Hi." Baylee greets once they've come to a stop, but that is her sum total of greetingness. She's mostly still trying to eat the delicious foods that are in her hand before they get too cold to be yummy.

"This is definitely not my favourite," says Dante, seconds before downing the whole of the rumchata and then pulling a face. Can't get alcohol go to waste one way or another. "Mhmm, maybe. But so far, this town is the most reluctant I've ever seen to actually talk about its myths and legends...oooh, churros." He pulls his attention from Alexander and sidles over and pulls out money to get himself a sugary-sweet stick of fried delight. Apparently he's fine with his food being sweet, just not his alcohol.

Still stalking Alexander and looking surly at the nearby strangers, Lex is glancing upward at the sight of a very colorful and tall familiar figure. "Yo, Aidan." Then, a glance toward the food-occupied woman linked to him. "Hey, Baylee."

Alexander murmurs to Lex, "It's not always a stroke. Personally, I'd put my money on a mysterious fire that destroys his manuscript, notes, and backup notes." A pause. "Ten bucks?" this is offered to her, with a raised eyebrow, before he turns back to Dante. "Oh? Hm. Interesting. I don't mind talking about them." A roll of his shoulders. "Not sure I count as a credible source, though."

Ignacio watches Alexander stalk off ignoring the question entirely and instead hop up to have a sit on the stage. Squinting he follows the crowd. "Aaaaah yup. That is. While i'd love to drop the all writers don't know one another I actually did run into him the other day. He's here working on weird tales and stuff of the like. Seems pretty dope."

"Fifteen, but I get amnesia, too," Lex responds oh-so-idly to Alexander, seeming content to discuss the destruction of the stranger's life work without actually speaking to said stranger.

The jury is immediately out on whether Dante means to eat the churro a little lewdly or if that's entirely an accident. It's hard to know without knowing him well, and without being able to gauge his relative level of intoxication. He chews the mouthful, then says to Alexander, "It's folk stories and rumours. All that's important is that you believe it." He's oblivious to the fact that his ears should be burning as well.

"Why would you want amnesia?" Aidan asks Lex, apparently having missed the context for this part of the discussion. Possibly too busy eating, really.

"Oh, I want amnesia for all sorts of reasons," is Lex's response to Aidan, green eyes flickering away from Dante, and her expression softening into something that could best be described as 'uncomfortable yet cordial' as she regards the curly-haired man. "Problem is, they don't really offer it on a selective basis."

"Done," Alexander says to Lex. He doesn't offer to shake on it, of course. His gaze remains on Dante, and he blinks as the man speaks. "Oh. You're going to have an interesting time here, Mister Taylor. I'd leave, if I were you. Do your research in Seattle." It's offered with a bit of resignation, like he doesn't expect the advice to be followed at all. His attention turns to Aidan. "Amnesia would be terrible, I think," in direct contradiction to his shadow.

Lex doesn't look put off by the lack of hand-shaking. She's been Shadow long enough to know what to expect -- or not expect, in this case. She allows Alexander to do the warning, though she does offer Dante a rather emphatic nod of... emphaticness... when the suggestion about leaving comes about.

"Oh, huh. Well. I'll ask him about it after he's done doing whatever he's doing to that poor churro." Julia says to Ignacio, and looks at her phone again before sighing and puttng it away. "What did he say when he sent you the picture? And you wanna dance?"

"Everyone keeps telling me to leave. It feels like a terrible horror cliche, I must say." Dante bites the churro again and raises his eyebrows at Alexander. "...and I do know my horror cliches. It's very...'abandon hope all ye who enter here!' It seems a bad move for tourism, frankly." He wipes a little cinnamon sugar off his lips.

Aidan watches Dante eat the churro for a moment, head slightly tilted as he takes an absent bite of his pastelito. Hard to know whether it has anything to do with the way it's being eaten, or just that, "I kinda want a churro now." A sip of his soda, even if the arm-linking makes it slightly awkward, and he makes a bit of a face at Lex's reply. "I'm with him. Even stuff I don't like remembering, I think I'd rather remember. 'cause first off I'd prolly be someone else if I didn't remember the stuff I remember, and second, it really kinda sucks when there's stuff you know you were there for but you dunno what actually happened."

"It's a terrible horror, but it's a cliche for a reason," Lex counters Dante, and then looks between Aidan and Alexander with a dry expression. "Then I'm glad for both of you. When you run into some shit you'd take a head injury to happily forget, I'm sorry."

Alexander gives Aiden an approving nod. "Better to know and regret, than get blindsided by something you don't know at all. I've always felt." A pause. "There's a lot of regret, though. Sometimes." He looks back at Dante. "It is," he admits, not without a moment of humor. "Next, I suppose I should tell you not to go to the old haunted house on the hill, knowing that you will of course go there, and by thus transgressing, become a legitimate target for supernatural retribution." It's all deadpan. "I won't, though. Just point out that you should look at the crime records for Gray Harbor. And suicides. We're statistically far above average in both. Maybe it's flouride in the water."

"Nope. Better to forget and hope to fuck it don't happen again." Wisdom from the World of Lex.

"My dear, I've made my career peeking into the depths others won't," says Dante to Lex. "I haven't looked away yet, and I don't intend to start doing so now." He finishes the last bite of his churro and dusts his hands together. The fried dough seems to have taken the edge off his drunkeness - but just the edge. He grins at Alexander's list of cliches. "And I'm most certainly not a virgin and I do enjoy sex, so I suppose that means I'll be one of the first to meet an untimely end."

Julia grins over at Ignacio. "Itz says he'll try to come. But you still gotta dance with me. Though first..." she strolls over to Dante and Lex. "Hey there!" A flash of a smile. "Sorry to bother you two, but are you," indicating Dante, "The guy who wrote the Merrymeet books?"

Ignacio snappoints to Lex. That... is a religion he can get behind. "And lo, the Saint of Avoidance has a herald." Rolling a look back to Julia he just shakes his head sadly, "It made his little scrapmetal heart grow two sizes this day. I think he's cursing me silently wherever he is right now... which means thank you for sending me that tell her she looks fantastic and you'd better damn well make sure she gets an opportunity to, indeed, dance." Hand on the stage he hops down to his good leg and, limp or no, is game.

"You're probably going to die in a grisly and ironic fashion," Lex deadpans toward Dante, in an uncanny Alexander-impression, before glancing toward the approaching Julia. And now she's behind Alexander again. Too cheerful.

"I must disagree," Alexander tells Lex, as quietly as he can and still be heard in the crowd. "Forgetting does nothing but render you unprepared for the next attack. The only way out is through." Dante is given something approximate to a real smile. "But it'll probably be ironic. In some fashion. Killed with a pen? Or a sword? Both work, although one is more likely, and the other will probably involve eye trauma." He turns as Julia approaches, offers her a nod of greetings, then glances at the question.

"I am indeed 'the guy who wrote the Merrymeet books,'" says Dante with his best charming smile towards Julia. Even if said charming smile is a little lopsided from copious amounts of alcohol. But then people are talking about his terrible death. He clutches his hand to his chest in mock dramatic fashion. "What about bludgeoned with a typewriter? But surely I deserve a death that doesn't damage my face," he motions to his jaw and mugs for the nonexistant camera. "Something where you can watch the light drain out of my eyes while a gaping chest wound bubbles and froths. That's how I'd kill me, in any case. Me, the horror writer, that is."

"Yeah, well, Gray Harbor ain't about giving you what you want. In fact, now that you put that out there, I'm going with the pen in the eye theory." Lex informs Dante, apparently unbothered that others are trying to talk to him.

Julia looks between Lex and Dante. "Sorry for interrupting. Cool books, hope you do a signing some time. I'll let you both get back to enjoying the festival." She starts to retreat, destination: Ignacio. Because dancing.

Aidan gives Lex what might strike some people as an uncharacteristically inexpressive look, just for a moment, and then eats the last bite or so of his empanada, because apparently that's all he's got to say about that. The talk of ironic death brings him back to what seems like the more usual level of cheer. "You're not blonde or a cheerleader though," he points out to Dante, "so you're probably at least not first." He considers the death for a writer thing, then nods. "Quill through the eye maybe. Oh! Or! Something rips up your books and makes you eat your words until you choke." He makes a face. "Actually, try not to get killed." He leaves the words spoken and eats pastelito instead.

Baylee finishes eating, and since she's only half paid attention she leaps into the conversation with a, "Why are we wanting to forget things?"

It can just be kinda seen, for anyone looking at Alexander, the exact moment that he decides that he likes Dante. Probably somewhere around 'gaping chest wound', the Brit turns from an object of suspicion to one of deep interest. "That's more of a mystery death, though, isn't it? Figure out who stabbed the horror writer with his latest award, or something. Shouldn't it be getting slowly devoured by monsters, or..." a glance at Aidan, "I actually like the words thing. It allows for quips." Quips are important, clearly.

Lex smirks when Aidan joins in on the death theories, and snorts when Alexander becomes intrigued. It's Baylee's question that gets a more verbal response, her gaze turning toward the familiar woman. "You ain't got anything you'd like to forget, dollface?" Her tone is wry, but that strange way Lex seems to have mastered, mildly affectionate.

"It's not an interruption at all, my dear," says Dante with an incline of his head towards Julia. "I appreciate the compliment." But then she's off, and Aidan is talking about his untimely demise. But if it bothers him, he doesn't show it. Then again he is a horror writer. He makes a living thinking up ironic and oddly satisfying deaths. "Mhmm, a tad cliche, perhaps. It could use a little finessing. And no, I am neither blonde, nor a cheerleader. I don't think I could fake either, though it might be fun to try." He chuckles. Then he grins at Alexander. "Mhmm, what about...my most terrible monster is made manifestly real by some supernatural force, and it slowly devours me, piece by piece?" A beat, "Because, sadly, I don't win awards. I'm neither literary enough to be recognized by that set, nor commercial enough to be recognized by that set." No, he's not bitter at all. Why doesn't he have a drink? He looks around, then ends up choosing what's closest, which ends up being a Mexican lager. Hey, it works.

And Itzhak does show up! A little while after Iggy and Julia make fun of him via texts, he shows up for some in-person abuse. He is in no way dressed up for it, unless you count that he's wearing a t-shirt reading 'If You Want to Call The Tune You Have To Pay The Fiddler'. "Whew," he mutters, seeing that the crowd is way, way bigger than he would have thought.

Alexander winces at Dante, his smile suddenly falling way. "No. Not that one. Too likely to happen," he mutters, with all apparent seriousness. Then he reaches into the pocket of his worn jeans, pulls out his phone. Without looking up from the screen he says, "Give me your number, Mister Taylor. If, when you are sober, you decide you really want to hear some Gray Harbor stories. I'll tell you some." It's back to flat.

"No." Baylee shakes her head after a moment, "I've done some shitty things, and seen more. But I figure I had to experience them to make me the wonderful individual I am to this day. Doing semi-shitty things still." There's no logic here. No one act surprised.

"Quips are good," Aidan agrees with Alexander, and doesn't look too terribly offended to have his option declared cliche. Hey, there's probably reasons he's not a writer too. Still, he tilts his head a little, eyes narrowing as he considers, and then volunteers, "Okay, you're in your office surrounded by shelves of your books, and all the doors and windows slam shut, there's this dripping sound, and then all the ink starts to pour out of the books until the level gets too high for you to tread ink and you drown." A pause. "Though I guess it doesn't lend itself to a lot of quips really."

A shrug, and he demolishes what's left of his pastelito, with a brief glance toward Baylee when Dante disappears beerward. She gets a small smile from him when she replies to Lex. "Yeah, basically," he agrees with her, lack of logic and all. Briefly, it seems like he might add something else, but he switches the soda to his now free hand and just has a drink of that instead.

"Yeah. Okay." Lex sounds... the opposite of convinced. But one doesn't pick battles with friends. At least in largely public settings. And so the tattooist is letting the topic drop, moving instead to take the horchata that's finally ready for mooching.

"Well, if I'm giving you my number, I suppose I ought to have your name," says Dante to Alexander with a roll to his words and a touch of lasciviousness. He tips some of the lager into his mouth. He snap-points at Aidan. "I like it. It could use some finessing, but the base concept is solid. I like the ink bit. Though, drowning tends to be hard to write in an exciting way. It's quite bloodless, and a horror audience expects at least a little bit of guts."

"Alexander Clayton," Alexander says. If the lasciviousness is even recognized at all, it seems to be entirely ignored. Aidan is given a sidelong smile. "That one is interesting, I agree. It would be...somewhat terrifying to be drowned, I think. Top ten ways not to die, for certain." He gives this some thought, his expression going distant.

Ignacio is out in the middle of the boardwalk talking to a couple co-workers from his various part-time jobs. When Julia comes back over he offers a hand out and says, "Hey, I used to be able to do this, but that was like 13 surgeries ago. Go easy on me, amiga." Looking over he quips to his pals, "I'll be back. This is super important or I'm gonna get in trouble...er."

"I'll treat you like abuelita's porcelain." Julia promises, but then, "Is that Itzhak?" She lifts her hand to offer a wave, which swiftly turns into a beckoning motion.

"Uh huh." Baylee agrees, then she gives Aidan's arm a squeeze before pulling her cigarettes out of a pocket, "I'm going to go stand as far away from the delicate noses of the crowds as I can to smoke. Don't run off too far." She turns her attention to the others, giving them a salute with the pack, "Excuse me."

"Well, Alexander Clayton, here's my number," and then Dante gives him a number with a New England area code. Then he pats his chest. "And I should get myself back to my bed and breakfast. I think I may have hit a wall. Pardon me," he offers a smile to anyone in the immediate vicinity, then sets his beer aside, only half-finished. Apparently he's a man who knows his limits.

Hm. That bit about a lack of guts and gore makes sense. Aidan considers this a moment, then suggests, "Ink shark?" A beat, thinking it over. "That might start getting silly." He looks to Baylee when she starts extracting herself, and catches her hand to give it a squeeze before he lets her go entirely. "Okay. Find me when you're done if I didn't find you yet." To the others, he says, "It probably would be pretty terrifying, drowning. I bet the ink thing'd work better in a movie than a book, too. Like car chases." He glances at the name and number exchange, but has also realised that now he has no food, and churros are still nearby, so that needs to be fixed.

Itzhak is debating just slinking away. It's been kind of a long day and there's. A. Lot. of people. Who he has to wade through to get to her and there will be touching. Ignacio is enough personality for any three regular people, he can hold down the fort...but he waves back to Julia, and proceeds to wade.

Alexander is here, too, and talking to that British guy. Itzhak glances over at him and quirks an eyebrow with a hint of a smile.

"Wounds erupt on your flesh, and ink begins to invade your veins through one, pushing blood out of all the others, veins turn black and you can feel it burning through you as it takes you over," Alexander suggests, absently, as he enters the number into the phone, then sends a quick text containing just his name (full name, no 'Alex') back to it. "Nice to meet you, Mister Taylor. Don't die." He turns away, then, and catches sight of Itzhak slinking his way through the crowd. His answering smile back is warm, tinged with sympathy, and he nods to the man, before saying, to Aidan. "I think in a book, you want to focus on the sensations. The internal narrative of your body being corrupted and invaded. But I'm not a writer." Shrug.

There's the tell-tale beep beep and buzz of a phone, and Lex is reaching into a pocket to pull out a black iPhone. There's a glance at the screen, 'brows knitting a bit, then. "Gotta go, guys. Work's a bitch." And with that, the young woman is proving just how quickly she can disappear.

"Mhmm, better. Nice and visceral. Could do some interesting things about what it would actually feel like to have ink in one's veins." Yet again, Dante doesn't seem bothered by the macabre, even when he's the one who is ostensibly the target of it. "But I try very hard not to write about writers. That can easily become a bit of a wank. And besides, Stephen King's got that market cornered." He looks down at his phone and adds the contact. That won't be the first time he's drunkenly added someone to likely forget come morning. "Enjoy the festival. I am going to embark on the walk of shame." He salutes to Alexander, then starts through the crowd. As he passes Itzhak, he grins and says, "Recovered from the prairie fire?" and then, with a genuine grin, continues on his way.

Turns out you don't need two good legs to dance, but only know how to keep things entertaining and make your partner look good. Not that Julia needs any help but the rogue deSantos is happy to do just that. He's going to pay for this in the morning, but it's worth it just to have fun with his own familiar environment again.

Aidan has a churro! He gives Lex a wave as she departs, and then considers a moment before getting a small rumchata as well. It sounds intriguing. "Oh, yeah, that'd be a good one," he agrees to Alexander's suggestion, "...and you're prolly right. Corruption and invasion sounds like getting into serious symbolism territory, too." Which is probably about the most academic-sounding thing anyone here's ever heard him say, and does not continue. "But, I mean. I'm not a writer either. You'd probably do it well, though." Dante gets a bright, "Nice meeting you!" even if they didn't, entirely; maybe he hasn't noticed. He has a churro to eat, in any case.

People have churros, and booz, and there is dancing. The festival continues long after sunset for folks to enjoy.