2019-08-23 - A Man Hunt on the Horizon. And a Picnic

Isolde had been contemplating a lot of things lately! Practicing some with her mental powers and doing more research on Broken Bow and trying to find things about Emory. She was growing worried and finally decided to talk to someone about it. That someone being Alexander, of course. Because who better to ask for help than her best friend?

So Isolde had texted him that she needed to talk to him when he got home. When he did arrive home he would find she had ordered pizza for dinner and was working on a bit of origami to keep occupied. Trying to make a frog it looked like.

Alexander replies to the text with a rather concerned but affirmative response - because no good conversation ever starts with 'we need to talk'. So he's a bit wary when he rambles on in, t-shirt and jeans and too-long hair. He sniffs the air. "Pizza?" He checks on Luigi, exchanging some whistles and soft conversation with the bird, before coming to sit near Isolde and watch her make origami. He doesn't open the conversation, his fingers tapping restlessly on his knees as he watches her.

"Pizza!" Isolde gave the affirmative without looking up from her project. It was pepperoni and sausage. She's quiet as she tries to figure out what she wants to ask properly and how to ask. Finally, she looks up at Alexander and sets her origami aside. Looking at him with those intent blue eyes.

"...Can you feel people who are Lost?"

Alexander stands up while she's working, and goes to fix a plate. There's a brief inquiry about whether she wants a plate and a piece as well, and if she says yes, he brings two plates back to the living room and settles in with his. He nibbles on the end, apparently content to watch and wait until she decides what they're going to talk about. Okay. Not content. He's nervous. Enough so that her eventual question actually comes at a relief.

It still takes him a while to answer. He thinks about it. "I've never really tried. I haven't personally known anyone who became lost and never came back, so I never had anything to latch onto. And I always assumed," he pauses, "I thought that anyone who didn't come back had to be dead. And their bodies would never be recovered. Until a month or two ago, I didn't think of the lost places as places, really. Not as a persistent location. I assumed they just came into being, and then died when you got out or you died; once their purpose was served." A crooked little smile. "This Veil shit is kinda new to me."

Isolde accepted a piece of pizza, though didn't actually take a bite until after she asked her question. Listening intently and seeming disappointed when Alexander wasn't sure. Though nodded understandingly. "There is someone. I don't know if he's dead or Lost." She set her half-eaten plate of pizza on the table. "But if he is lost I want to find him." Starting to look a little distressed. "If he is lost it's my fault. I know it."

Rubbing a hand over her face as she settled back. "I don't know. I don't know. I want to find him if he's lost. I don't know if you can reach so far though. He's so far away. I can't reach that far." Focusing back on Alexander. "But it's my fault. I want to help him. If he's just Lost.

Alexander considers Isolde with both concern, and a sharp interest. "Someone? Who?" He doesn't address the fears of it being her fault, clearly not having enough information to concede or deny it. But he puts his plate down, and offers her a brief smile. "Okay. I'll help you find him, if I can. Wherever he is, Isolde. Where did he get lost? If it's not right around Gray Harbor, then he's probably out of my range, but there may be other ways to find him. Or at least discover what happened to him."

Isolde closed her eyes a moment to try and calm herself so she could keep her thoughts from getting jumbled. "His name was. Is. Emory. We lived in Broken Bow, Oklahoma." She spoke softly, keeping her eyes closed for a minute. "We were going to get married." Her fingers starting to toy with a strand of her long red hair. "But something bad happened. A bad thing. I don't....remember...but he was gone. And I left." Her eyes opened then, looking back to Alexander. "But I. I researched. And I saw it. They didn't ever find a body. No body means he might not be dead. He might just be very lost." She pauses again, trying to think about something. "It was...years ago. Almost....8..."

Alexander listens. Quietly, only the slight shifts in expression indicating his surprise. He rises. "Hold on, just a moment." He heads into his office and returns with a pen and a small notepad, folding himself back into the couch. "Okay. Broken Bow, Oklahoma. I can't reach there, mentally, but there are other tools we can use." He writes a few things. "Emory. Do you have his full name, Isolde? A description, or anything you can remember about where you used to live? And the closest your memory comes to the date of what happened?" His voice is brisk, businesslike - it's clear this is how he talks to clients. But when he pauses to look at her, there's a kindness in the dark eyes. His voice gentles. "That long ago, I won't pretend the odds are good for a happy ending. But I'll do what I can to see if I can find out what happened."

Isolde waited until the line of questioning was done before trying to answer. Taking a few minutes to collect her thoughts again. Still tugging at her hair a bit. "Mays. Emory Mays." She focuses in on Alexander and it takes a bit of effort but he gets the image of a man with tanned skin, kind green eyes , and dark hair. Country clothing.

Isolde closes her eyes again. Trying to think of the memory now. "I remember after. Crying. The house was...." depressing. "I took his muscle car and left town." Brow furrowed g as she tried to remember before that. "....A . Outing. We were going to go camping. So we needed supplies? But I don't...can't..." remember.

Alexander slides closer, even as he scribbles down as much information from that sudden flicker in his mind as he can. Then, eyeing her sidelong as she closes her eyes, he puts the notebook down for a moment, and reaches out. "Isolde, can I give you a hug?" Warning her, because her eyes are closed. If she agrees, then he slides an arm over her shoulders and gives her a hug. "It's hard to remember. Try, when you can, but don't hurt yourself. Okay? But any people you remember who might have talked to you around that time, or him, that might help." His voice is gentle.

Isolde opens her eyes when he asks about the hug. Clearly surprised by the question but agrees nonetheless. Easily accepting the hug and relaxing against him briefly. "I think they all think I did it." She murmured. "The article I read. It named me. Said people were saying I did it." Rubbing at her eyes briefly with her thumb and forefingers. "But I will try. And I will let you know. " she gave him a touch of a smile. "Thank you Alexander. I just want to help him. If I can."

Alexander squeezes her gently, and lets the touch linger, just trying to give his friend comfort. He's touching people! It's progress! Maybe the rest of his social skills still need work, though, because he says, bluntly, "I'm not surprised. You had an intimate connection with the victim, were probably the last person to see him alive, and then you fled from the area in his car." A brief sigh. "I'd probably suspect you, too. If you don't know about...all of the bad things, it'd seem pretty obvious." He smiles at her, and adds, "I can't promise that we'll be able to find him. But I will do my best." A pause. "Can I tell Itzhak about this? Or do you want to? If he is in the Veil, we'll have to go over there at some point. To try and find him, or to recover whatever we might find. Itzhak can open doors. If you'd rather he not, there are other people I think I can ask. But I can't do the opening myself."

The comfort is appreciated and Isolde nods understandingly. "Me too." Yeah, she was a prime suspect even without a body. There's a pause as he asks about telling Itzhak. "I will tell him." Isolde decided and then paused again. "We can both tell him? It might be easier. If you are here too. To help. And maybe plan." Pushing a hand through her hair with a barely audible sigh. "You are both important to me. It would mean a lot. If you both could help. If he wants to help. I don't want him to be more sad." Her voice is quiet, though sincere as she talks. Not quite looking at Alexander, still toying with her hair.

Alexander reaches up and ruffles Isolde's hair, before slipping back away. "However you want." A pause, as he thinks about something. "I can't say that I know him very well, if we're honest. But I think he might be sad that you had that pain in your past, but that he'd be happy that you trusted him to try and help you with it." He offers her a crooked smile. "Not all sad feelings are bad ones. Sometimes we hurt for others, and that just means we care about them. Someone who can't hurt for others usually can't feel anything for them, and that's a lot worse."

Isodle giggles a bit at the hair ruffle, reaching over to take her plate of pizza back up off the table when he pulls away. Taking a bite as she considers his words. "That makes sense." She nodded. "I am seeing him soon I think. So he can try teaching me how to make eggs. Maybe I will tell him then. And then we can call talk about it. I don't know." She shrugged. "However it works out, it will work out." She flashed him another smile.

"Thank you Alexander." Nodding a bit. "How is Isabella doing? Is she feeling all better yet or still hurting from the ghost bullets?"

Alexander returns the smile. "It will." He reaches back for his pizza, eats it thoughtfully. "Let me know how it goes, or if you decide that you want backup for the conversation, okay?" The words coming out in bits and pieces between biting and swallowing. When she asks about Isabella, he doesn't QUITE choke on his pizza, but does clear his throat a bit. "She's feeling much better, these days. Fit as a fiddle." It's very dry, and he suddenly seems to find his pizza to be fascinating. He also didn't come home last night, although he did send a text that everything was fine and he wasn't dead, in a hospital, or being beaten up.

Isolde cuts her gaze to him when his demeanor shifts and she starts giggling. "That's good to hear." Standing up so she could retrieve another piece of pizza. Peeking around the wall back at him. Mischief glowing in her eyes. "Did you have fun last night?" Clearly assuming that he was with Isabella. Especially after that reaction. Then she's retrieving her pizza slice and coming back to the couch.

Alexander is not a blusher. He's just not! And yet, when Isolde starts giggling, there's a decided darkening to his cheekbones, although it doesn't go any further than that. "Yes. It is," he mumbles, attending to the rest of his pizza slice. It is the BEST PIZZA IN THE WORLD, and deserves his full and undivided attention. But when she peeks back and teases him, he lets out a mock-grumpy noise. "Yes. Fine. Fun was had. Don't make me toss this frog at you." One hand hovers threateningly over the frog pillow as he quirks his eyebrows at her.

Isolde grinned brightly at his grumpy noises. "Nooo don't throw Fred. He didn't do anything." She countered as she settled back into her seat, also grabbing Fred in the proccess as if to protect him. "I am glad you are having fun. Any and all kinds. It's a good thing." Isolde flashed him another smile. "She and Itzhak should meet some time soon. I think she wants to meet him, since he is our friend and...I think Itzahk would feel better when he meets her too." Digging in to her second slice.

"This is true. Fred is blameless." Alexander rests a hand on his fuzzy head for a moment, giving the frog a fond pat before sparing him the indignity of flight. He smiles as Isolde returns, and sets his plate aside, now that his pizza is done. "It may not be a bad thing," he's willing to concede, on the topic of fun. As she continues, though, he looks thoughtful. "Sure. Um. I guess we could invite both of them over for dinner one night? We could get something easy, talk. Or something." His fingers twitch and pull at the seams of his pants at the thought, but hey, he put it out there and he'll own it.

"Only if you want to. " Isolde assured him. "Dinner could be fun. And there are things to talk about. We could maybe even do a picnic. Picnics are good and we can enjoy the little bit more of nice weather?" She finished off her slice of pizza and set her plate back down.

Alexander relaxes a little more at the idea of a picnic. "A picnic could be nice. We could go down to the pond, perhaps. Maybe even see some tree frogs as it turns dark." A quick, warm smile to her. "I'll suggest it to Isabella, if you will handle inviting Itzhak? And then we can decide what we'd like in the picnic basket." A thoughtful hum. "This could be fun. I'd like to spend some time with friends."

"Yay picnic!" Isolde grinned, rising to her feet and picking up their plates. "I will ask him. Maybe easy things. Sandwiches. Fruit. We will see." Flashing a grin. "I agree. It will be fun. Time with friends is a good thing." Heading over to the kitchen. "I'm going to wash these and then keep trying to make Fred. He is being difficult." Her origami project most likely.

"Yes. It's a good thing." Alexander watches her go, with a slight smile playing on his lips. "That sounds like a good plan for the evening." He stands. "I'll be in my office most of the evening; I have to look through some students' project notes, and answer some e-mails from potential clients. Just let me know if you need help...although not with origami. Not any good at that, but I know you'll get it. And then Fred can have many tiny Freds to keep him company." He grins, then, bright and sunny, and then heads for his office.