2019-09-04 - Romantics & Serial Killers

It's a warm, not-hot Tuesday on the boardwalk, early afternoon at the very cusp of September; it is not, in fact, raining. Dressed in a blousy, short, soft cotton, sleeveless dress in a mild green print that nicely sets off her ginger hair, Claire is at a games booth shooting at swimming ducks with a play-gun that is tied down to the booth counter with a plastic covered cable. Only one other person besides the teen running the booth is there: a twenty-something man wearing jeans and a white tshirt that announces how much he likes barbeque. He's drinking from a beer in a plastic cup and watching Claire more than the game.

The round ends and Claire earns some tickets, laughing with the teen about shooting skills. "I'm sure this is an excellent measure of my gun smithery. Yeah. One more time. I'm feeling lucky." She lays down a couple of bucks and picks up the gun once more. The teen presses the reset and the game begins again. The man sitting there at the game just lifts his beer and downs the rest when she starts her new game. Claire is impervious to his presence, his watching. She laughs as she hits three ducks in a row and aims for some frogs and a crazy character who pops up around in different spots on the mini-range.

This round ends and the redhead drops her gun and bows with a flourish as the teen grins at her and offers compliments. He's got to be there all day regardless of players. Claire is entertaining and not bad looking. When he gives her the 'won' tickets, Claire exchanges them for two plastic leis which she immediately puts around her neck. "Hey, Matt. You have a great day, mmkay? I'll see you around."

As she moves away from the booth, the man -- we'll call him Fred -- who finished his beer and watches like a creeper pushes to his feet and follows along after her. They pass the next booth which has ping pong balls and a few hundred glass jars to try to sink them into and Claire wheels around on the man and pokes him hard in the chest. "You following me? Because that's just plain rude." Fred stops short and holds up his hands with a little grin, "So shoot me, baby." Claire frowns. "Go creep on someone who wants it. I'm not interested." The number of people on the boardwalk on a Tuesday just after lunch is sparse, so there's really not anyone nearby that Claire sees to move toward.

Fred grabs her by the bicep and Claire utters an angry sound while lifting up her sneaker clad foot to slam it down on his insole with the tight words, "No thank you." The man drops her arm with a cry then reflexively hauls back and back-hands her across the face, hard. She is whipped around in a loop to fall to the ground, lifting one hand to mouth where a bit of blood creeps past the corner of her lips. "Jesus. Psycho a little?" Fred's gaze darkens and he moves toward where she's sitting on her behind on the ground.

Geoff strolls the boardwalk this afternoon because as every local knows, the single best place to get hot dogs in town is out here. His clothing is simple, a pair of cargo shorts, vans and a black t-shirt with an artsy print that depicts a scowling Japanese style demon's visage. It's as he's strolling and rounding a corner that he spots Fred back handing Claire, and well we can't be having that.

Walking at a pace that carries him towards the two at a decent pace, he couches his footsteps so as to at least try not to make too much noise. It's only once he is within arm's length of Fred that that he brings back his right arm and throws a driving punch that collides with the side of the man's head, voice gruff as he taunts "Why don't you try picking on someone who can fight back, ya shit." Of course that punch was thrown with the intent of not leaving the bully in much of a state to do anything.

Fred isn't a small man. And he'd have had a swinging chance at Geoff if he weren't drunk, he were paying attention, and he threw a punch just right. But that blow to the head knocks him out. With a grunt he drops to the ground, out cold. Claire stares at the man who just dissolved to a pile on the ground, starting to tremble a bit with her hand wiping at the bit of blood at the corner of her mouth. That done, she pushes her hands on the ground and hoists herself to her feet to step around the pile of Fred and out of reach of his hands should he wake up abruptly. "Hey, thanks," she says to Geoff, her brown eyes bright and assessing. "I can usually handle myself. But I didn't expect that asshole to start hitting first thing." She smiles, then, the expression more equanimous as she regains her bearings, only a small bit dizzy from the hit, now. She wipes the blood on her right hand on her left hand then offers her right hand to Geoff, her gaze both sharp and friendly as she flickers a look over the tattoo artist. "Claire Reid. I think I owe you a beer or a brat or something after that demonstration."

Geoff 'toes' Fred in the side after he's collapsed to make sure there is no chance of him immediately getting back up to start trouble. Once he's satisfied he turns his attention to Claire, looking her over appraisingly to make sure she isn't seriously hurt a hint of concern resting on his features "Hey are you okay, chica? It looks like he hit you pretty hard there."

"The name's Geoff, Geoff Turner. I'm sure you could normally deal with him, sneak attacks are a bitch to handle though. Not very fair at all." His comments accompanied by a roguish grin and a hint of mischief in his eyes. Jerking his thumb further down the boardwalk he says "I was just going to grab a bite. You can get me that hot dog if you'll let me keep an eye on you for a little bit and make sure we don't need to get you to the hospital."

Claire's cheek blooms red where Fred hit her across the face, but there isn't more blood. She watches Geoff nudge the thug with his foot, lifting a hand to the hip further away from the collapsed, but still breathing, body. "It wasn't a love tap, that's for sure," she replies. Looking up from Fred to Geoff again. "But I'll be okay, I think."

The young woman curves an amused smile at the comment about sneak attacks. "Looks like karma was fast-moving today, yeah? Do you often bring the pain as needed here in Gray Harbor? A regular vigilante per operculum?" Certainly Claire doesn't speak Latin. She certainly doesn't have that look. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Geoff Turner."

She flickers a glance down the boardwalk in the direction Geoff indicates, and perhaps the moment's pause is understandable after what just happened. "It would be my pleasure. But you look more like a two-hot dog guy to me." Glancing back down one last time, Claire crouches and smack-smacks Fred's unconscious cheek. "Behave in the future, asshole. You never know when the girl's gonna have a gun." Rising she sets off at a casual pace in the direction Geoff motioned toward. "So what do you do when you're not wearing your proverbial red cape, Geoff?" The afternoon breeze tugs at the hem of her short dress. She lifts a hand to push her auburn hair behind her ear.

"Well if I see something like that going down, I have to act, don't I?" Geoff asks with an easy going laugh "Though I wouldn't say I go around play vigilante. Anyone who lays a hand on women or children is scum though. Your buddy there got off pretty light." With a click of his tongue he says "Blows to the head are no joke. You look like you could take on the world, but I wouldn't sleep right if I just left ya there."

Turning to walk with Claire he continues "Well, when I'm not cracking heads on the boardwalk I can usually be found in my shop down on elm, Pens and Needles. Tattoo artist." with a grin towards Claire "So what is it you do? Given your comment I'm pretty sure I just saved him from ending up with a few nine mil holes through his torso. Cop?"

Claire shrugs a bit and lifts her hands palm-up in the air in response to his indictment to act. She drops those hands and casts a sidelong look to Geoff as they stroll. "Careful, Geoff, or you'll sound like you have a moral code. Those get into the mix and all sorts of obligations arise." She grins, brown eyes sparkling in the early afternoon sunlight. She dips her chin. She's still quite dizzy. "I definitely want you to sleep well, my friend."

"Pens and Needles," Claire echoes. "Cute name. So you're an artist, hmm." Unless she's ducked or waylaid, Claire reaches over and catches up the wrist of the hand that slung the hard knock on Fred. She checks Geoff's fingers for damage. "I'd feel awful if I was the cause for problems with you and your job." She finally drops his wrist and smiles into the man's eyes with a small toss of her red head. "Close," she answers. "My brother's a cop. We're new in town. I'm interviewing week after next for an Emergency Operator position. Should be cake after doing it in San Francisco for a few years." How old is she? A few years on the job in San Francisco? Claire doesn't look like she should be out of college. But then, sometimes looks can be deceiving.

She sways as she strolls, glancing at the different food vendors and passersby curiously. "I still have to figure out the open carry laws here in Washington. Get that all settled. You familiar with them?" Doubling back on the conversation she asks, "So, tattoos, huh? Is there a big hustle for them in a town this tiny? Or do you work, like, one day a week?"

"Moral codes are definitely the worst, being compelled to act and behave a certain way." Shaking his head Geoff says "Definitely no way way to live." With how dizzy Claire is, he offers his arm out to he after she is done examining his hand. Luckily for him his knuckles seem to be rather calloused and if he might be used to throwing bare knuckle punches.

"I'll be fine, it'll take more then laying a drunk out to ruin my hands. Besides I chose to act, it wouldn't come back on you at all." His attention split between the woman and the familiar booths and carts along the boardwalk "Don't need any sort of permit for open carry. If it's loaded an in a vehicle you need a concealed carry permit even if you have it in open sight out on the dash." wobble his hand he says "Don't take my word for it though, been a while since I last had to look at it." He slows down as they approach a booth that seems to have been there for the last half decade, proclaiming in bold golden font 'Worlds Best Hotdogs' "So what brings you here from Cali? Did you decide you wanted a bit more rain in your life? Or was it the charming nature of the townsfolk" his head dipping back in the direction they'd left Fred

Claire's laughter is playful, insouciant in response to his retort about moral codes. She slows her steps at the offer of an arm, then resumes her walk and takes it, sliding her hand over Geoff's forearm. Clearly the man is tough as nails if he can throw a punch like the one he did and come away with negligible damage to his knuckles.

The laughter ebbs to a curious bit of a half-smile. He chose to act. "Concealed carry in vehicles, that's good to know. Sure, I'll check it out. Mustn't tarnish my brother's reputation, after all." The young woman has an easy manner, flowing with the moment. Apparently she's not as concerned about her own reputation.

Claire looks up at the sign. "Well, this isn't superlative at all." She steps up to the window. "Come tell this fine woman what you want on your hot dogs. Because you're getting two." She crooks a finger to invite Geoff closer, then she orders drinks for them both and a dog for herself. Mustard, ketchup, relish. The food is handed over while she answers his question. "Our dad died and left us his house. Rent in San Francisco is a bitch. So we decided to give Gray Harbor a shot. I have to say, I'm already missing my favorite Indian food place. But aside from limited options, it's not such a bad place. People are ... interesting." With a playful smile, Claire pulls her wallet from her purse and pays in all single-dollar bills, depleting most of them by the time the lunch is covered. The food is up quite directly, and the ginger grabs her drink and dog and some napkins and looks around. She gestures toward a picnic table that is set up where you can see the water of the wharf. "Here? Or do you have to get back to the inkery? Tattoo emergencies and all that?" She doesn't want to impose on the man's time if he's just here to get lunch and go.

Geoff of course gets his with everything on them, "You have my condolences then, and yeah I'd heard rent down there required you to pretty much sell your soul to your landlord." Taking his hot dogs he is already beginning to head for the picnic bench to sit down "Nope, I don't have any scheduled tattoo emergencies today and if any come up the other artists should be able to handle them." settling down he gestures with his soda idly "Besides I already said I was going to keep an eye on you for a little bit to make sure you were fine, didn't I?"

Taking a bite from his hot dog, he takes a moment to relish it, chewing slowly and savoring the taste before swallowing "Yeah, the people around here are interesting, and while there are some bad seeds like that dude back there. They aren't bad. About our only downfall is the the skies open up for about three quarters of the year and we don't have anything in the way of good Thai, Indian, or Chinese food. I like to think having a top notch tattoo parlor makes up for that though."

Claire mocks a sad face but that smile is indomitable. "There are definitely parts of that life we'll miss. But there's something to be said for a fresh start. And for home ownership." She lifts her hot dog and muses, "Aside from the long list of reno projects." A cute wrinkle of her nose. "That's a steep learning curve. And I'm not particularly handy. Don't you worry, though, I'm a fast study." She takes a bite of the hot dog and chews while watching Geoff, only speaking again after she's swallowed. A napkin is lifted to her lips and she cringes as mustard gets in the cut at the corner of her lips. While she's at it, she wipes away the blood from her left hand. "Yeah, you said that. Careful, now, Geoff. You're starting to sound like my big brother." If there's one thing Claire clearly enjoys, it's teasing.

"I don't mind rain," Claire replies to the talk of copious amounts of the precipitation. "I actually enjoy being out when it's raining. There's something hushed and mysterious about it, like you're in a big budget movie while your feet get wet." It's hard to tell if the capricious young woman is joking or not. "Your tattoo parlor makes up for a lack in delicious food options? I have to say it sounds like the number of tattoos would increase pretty quickly if I got one each time I had a craving for tikka masala and some naan. And I have limited real estate." She scans Geoff for a glimpse of what ink he has showing. She tips her brows upward, grins, then takes another bite.

Geoff gestures with his hot dog "You know if you needed a little help with those reno projects and were providing beer, I could probably help out here and there. I'm not too bad, been getting some practice in over the last few years helping some of my neighbors out." with a warm laugh he says "If I start sounding like a brother cop I'm clearly going in the wrong direction."

Sipping from his soda, he regards Claire as if for the first time, now simply studying her features rather then examining her for signs of damage "The rain is nice, only downside is it cuts down on when I can actually go out on rides on my bike without arriving looking like a drowned rat. The best thing is listening to it on the roof on a fall evening. Though I'll admit being out in the pouring rain and seeing just how it changes the world can put you in that detective noir type mood."

Geoff's offer earns him a startled expression. "You don't even know me, Geoff. I mean ... we could be serial killers who lure unsuspecting, kind vigilantes to our house to kill in horrible ways because they liked the offer of cheap beer. You really should be more careful." She hmms, glancing to the dog Geoff brandishes. "I'd have to get you tied up first. Can have that thing--" she gestures to his hand "-- swinging around. I've seen how effective it is." Claire regards Geoff for a long moment as if she's contemplating just how to kill him. "Something creative. An /interesting/ death, because you've been such a swell guy." Harper humms a sound of intrigue. "Which is more bothersome? Brother or cop? What direction do you want to go? Stranger-Travel Agent?" The young woman takes a few moments to enjoy that laughter.

Claire sets down her hot dog and lifts her drink in a toasting motion when he speaks about the rain. "So you're a biker. You just keep getting more and more interesting, Geoff Turner." Claire nods slowly, her gaze solemn and musing as he speaks about the beauty of rain. "Note to self: ravage the local thrift store for a trench coat so I can do that sort of rain justice." Taking a long drink from her straw, Claire smiles slowly at Geoff and his new inspection. "Careful, or you're going to sound like a romantic with all that rain talk. Hmmm. Are you?" A beat. "A romantic?"

Geoff shakes his head "So you're going to have to tie me up because you're afraid of schlinging, my sausage around." hand coming up he rubs at his chin thoughtfully "I guess you did buy me lunch first so I can't complain." He can't quite hide the devilish mischief that dances in his eyes at that "Hey at least if you're serial killers I'll get an interesting end, and if you're not I get to enjoy your company and cheap beer. It just sounds like winning no matter how I spin."

With a sigh he feigns disappointment "So far miss you've just been accusing me of things left and right. First the bit with the moral code, then calling me a biker and now I might be a romantic? This is all a bit much don't you think?" hand coming up to run through his hair he mentions "Personally I think just have good taste." a small grin pulling at his lips showing that at least part of what he's said is teasing "As for which is more bothersome, probably cop. Brothers aren't able to toss out speeding tickets typically."

Claire bursts out laughing, throwing her head back then glancing toward the sea before she looks back at Geoff and his terrible mental imagery. "Is that what you hit that poor jerk with? I think I missed it. No wonder your knuckles are fine." Nope. Not going to embarrass the young woman. Raising the stakes just seems to encourage her. "I did. I bought you lunch. So when I tie you up with an extension cord and kill you by manicure, you'll just have to sit there and take it." She contemplates Geoff and decides that his offer is real. "You'd just offer to help a practical stranger and her brother with their house? Or are you that desperate for beer? Because I'm pretty sure beer could be arranged."

Claire leans in to her side of the table and rests her elbow atop the splintery wood, her chin in her palm as fingers tap at her cheek. The wind plays with her hair, buffeting it a bit now and then. "I do tend to accuse wantonly and with great prejudice," she agrees. She tips up her brows. "Prove me wrong, Geoff. Prove me wrong." He finds a way to insert a backhanded compliment to the mix. He has good taste. "Shall I warn my brother to give the romantic biker a break if he ever pulls you over for speeding?"

Geoff polishes off that hot dog and nods "You heard me right chica, I'm offering to help a practical stranger and her brother out with their house." Arching his eyebrow he taunts "Whatcha gonna do about it?" as if daring her to...act on his offer?" with a laugh he says "Have we moved on to death by manicure? It sounds like you could have taught the vietcong a few lessons in how to deal with prisoners." with a grin he turns his palms upwards "Not much I can do about it other then just take the manicure of death."

Geoff grins and reaches across the table to lightly remove a slight condiment smudge from Claire's cheek that she'd missed "Proving you wrong might take a little bit of time. If I'm going to do this right I'm going to need your number." Shifting his weight he winks "Then you'll see just how non romantic I am." drumming his fingertips against the table he muses "I think first that would require your brother actually catch me speeding. I'm pretty good at not getting tickets."

Claire finishes off her hot dog and chews with a smile and twinkling brown eyes trained on Geoff as he teases and restates the offer. "We're not saying no. We need all the help we can get. Do you know anything about plumbing or electrical work?" She pauses then holds out a hand expectantly after wiping her hands with her napkin. "So give me your phone so I can enter my number."

Geoff's grin is absolutely charming. Does he hand over his unlocked phone or insist on digits? One way or another, Claire exchanges info with him, preferably by texting herself from his phone and creating a contact that reads 'Serial Killer Claire Reid' in his address book. That wink and then the playful promise earns him a pleased sigh and his phone being patpatted above her heart. "Be still my beating heart." Non-romantic, eh? Claire looks unconvinced. "You'll have to stop acting like a protagonist from a really good romance novel to get started on that." Being non-romantic. The youthful redhead bursts into laughter. "Well, when you put it that way, I really think you should invite me for a ride so I can judge the veracity of that claim for myself."

Geoff unlocks his phone and hands it over easily, the background of the device a tattooed woman's hip and thigh showing a lotus flow amidst tumultuous waves, inked in a bold and bright Japanese fashion "Plumbing I know a little bit of, enough to get by with most of what's needed. Electrical, not so much but I've dabbled here or there."

That playful boyish mischief never quite leaves his eyes "I'm not sure what sort of romance novels you read where the protagonist beats a guy up, extorts the cute damsel in distress for hot dogs. I mean I'm not knocking it, but I don't think that's how it typically goes." Elbows resting on the table he leans in "So let's go ride, it's a beautiful day and I know a perfect road to take today." eyes meeting hers he adds "That is if you can spare an hour or two for me to kidnap you."

Claire finishes with Geoff's phone and hands it across the table to him. "Plumbing. Got it. How do you feel about interior painting? I want to utlize your skill set efficiently." A moment and she's mentioning as she hands the phone over, "Nice tattoo. Did you do that one?" It certainly looks that way.

What sort of romance novels? "The sort where the male love interest saves the girl from violent, unspeakable things. The sort where the bad boy offers to come over and get sweaty for a few hours with only the promise of some cheap beer and a -- a nail job." Ba-dum dum. "The sort with fascinating green eyes." Claire smiles, her voice having lowered as if she were telling Geoff a secret. Not how it typically goes. Her smile widens. "Well, I don't know. I don't have a job yet, and I came down to the boardwalk to get out of the house for a few hours. How could I possibly decline your outrageous offer?" Once he's finished eating, Claire pushes to her feet, rising from the table, and collects the trash remaining from their impromptu lunch. These items are carried over to a somewhat nearby trash can, then she turns around and settles her hands on her hips in the fluttery green dress. "If you can leave the people of Gray Harbor waiting for their ink, who am I to turn you down? Let's go."

Geoff watches her mess with his phone not particularly caring what she's doing with it or if she has moved into checking out his gallery of pics (which are all pieces he's done) "Oh I can handle painting, drywall repair, hanging drywall. I've hung a door or two, and I can probably make it so your sink stops dripping." Taking the phone he responds "And yeah I did that piece, I was rather pleased with how it came out."

As she stands to gather their trash, this prompts him to rise and stretch "You know I think they can be without their ink for a little bit longer." And with that he'd offer his arm once more to Claire and walk with her to the parking lot where his bike is parked. The man's bike is a classic Harley in pristine condition that looks like he must have been cleaning it no earlier then that morning with how polished it is. Digging in the saddle bags he pulls out a helmet and offers its to Claire "Have you ever ridden on a motorcycle before?" Waiting till after she'd taken it he'd mount up and pat the slightly raised segment behind him to indicate where she should sit "There's nothing to it, just hold tight and don't do any thing stupid."

Claire may indeed glance through the gallery of tattoos. She's pushy that way. On-your-toes in-your-face. "You're a regular renaissance man, Geoff. Truly. That's an impressive resume of skills. I hope you're not opposed to on-the-job teaching. Because I'd rather learn how to fish than have you catch the fish for me." She nods about what she can see of the wallpaper tattoo. "How you do that is mystifying, and that's not even counting the fact that you do it on human flesh. Do tattoos hurt to have done?" That should answer the question of whether she has any or not.

He receives a sly smile at the way he's abandoning his tattoo duties and the needs of the citizenry of Gray Harbor. His arm offered, Claire once again slides her fingertips over his bare forearm and holds lightly onto him. The red marking on her face has all but faded now, though there's a small amount of swelling at the corner of her mouth. "Wow," she observes eloquently upon seeing the bike. "That's a pretty damn nice specimen of bike." No, she doesn't know anything about bikes. But it's substantial. And it's shiny-clean. "I'm thinking this would be a reason to loathe the rain." Riding a bike in it. She releases his arm and steps closer to the machine to trace light fingertips over the seat. She takes the offered helmet, uses one hand to twist back her hair and the other to pull the helmet on. "You sure I'm not going to fall off when you take off?" She contemplates the bike with a fierce uptipping of her chin. She's got this. The thrill of what's to come flutters in her stomach. "Never. This is my first time. Do me a favor? Don't be gentle." The innuendo isn't lost on the woman in the dress. She points to the foot peg and says, "Do I step on that?" One hand on his nearer shoulder and she swings her other leg over the bike and settles on the seat behind Geoff. Her dress flutters out around her and she maintains her dignity, mostly. Hold tight, he says. Claire touches both hands to the back of his neck and slides them down over his spine before slowly winding her arms around his waist and doing as he says. "Make me scream." Her words hold laughter even if he can't see her dancing brown eyes.

"Depends on who you have doing them, with me I'm good, real good bet it would barely tingle...For someone else? It's not the most comfortable thing, but someone whose good will keep it from being /that/ bad." Geoff explains on the subject of pain and tattoos "And yeah I can teach you to do all that, it's much better when someone can stand on their own two legs instead of using a crutch."

Pose revs the bike to life, the bike thrumming with barely restrained power beneath them as the engines purrs in finely tuned perfection "So go hard and make you scream, shouldn't have a problem with that." A laugh escaping his lips as they begin to roll out and gain speed across the parking lot. His course would take them southbound and down through town before pulling out onto some country roads, the lush canopy of the vibrant green trees shading the road and wildlife scurrying amongst the wood.

Once they are into a more wooded setting he slows slightly just enough so they can enjoy the warm summer air and the scenery without rushing or having to yell against the wind "Not bad is it? This is what I do when I actually take a day off for myself, I love to ride and enjoy the nature. My favorite pieces tend more towards natural and botanical themes with trees, leaves and flowers."

Geoff's reply about the amount of pain differing from artist to artist earns him a curiously assessing look as if she were trying to gauge if he was playing with her with that comment. He seems sincere. "That would be great. In some cases I don't even know how to think of where to start. We're still pulling piles of clutter out of the house and doing trips to the dump."

Her delighted laughter can be heard after the engine revs a few times and settles to an idle. "You'd better not." Have a problem with that. "That would be false advertising, I'm pretty sure." The last couple of words tip up the scale in tone as the bike pulls them over the blacktop.

After he's been driving awhile on country roads, she pulls an arm free of his waist and feels the wind fly across it while it's stretched out. The woodsy environment, the warm -- but not hot -- summer air. Claire revels in the feel of leaving everything behind, the sensation of absolute freedom. It might be, as she pulls her arm back in and she settles forward against the man's back that he feels her breath on the back of his neck. Then she's replying, lifting her voice a little to be heard. "It's glorious! God. How do you ever go home?" The sincerity is hers this time. "Do you have any nature tattooed on your skin?"

Geoff calls out above the wind "Well I'd better not mention I have a pickup for when it rains. Being the dude with a pickup truck always means you get called to help haul things to the dump." From her hold on him she'd be able to feel the fruits of the man's daily visits to the gym, from his toned abs to his trong, broad shoulders

"Yeah I got an Yggdrasil tat on my shoulder encircled by Jormungandr. Been looking at some other pieces but the problem is always finding an artist whose style you like." Geoff replies earnestly before lightly lifting his shoulders in a shrug "Honestly sometimes its tough to go back home. You just want to keep riding forever, experiencing everything there is out here and just going one step at a time."

"Oh, you're now definitely That Guy." The one with the pickup truck. "Poor you." Claire leans her face in toward his ear, close enough that the wind doesn't quite immediately tear away the sensation of her breath. There's absolutely no way, given the way she's holding on to him, that she could help but notice in the forced proximity of the ride that the man works out. Her fingertips brush now and again against the material of his shirt and she's lovely and soft pressed up against his back.

"What's Yggdrasil?" Because the character doesn't know, not her player. "And Jorg-monster." He can feel her nodding in response to his statement about leaving the road and going home. "So Geoff, you ought to be ashamed for making a girl feel a bit pleased that she got hit by an asshole on the boardwalk. Feel it? Being ashamed?" Her laughter is wild as the nature they drive through. "I think I saw a deer back there!"

Geoff tilts his head to lightly bump against hers as she speaks against his ear "Man now that you know, it looks like I'm gonna have to spend even more time with you." Despite the faux air of complaint, he really doesn't seem to mind the prospect that much "Now it looks like some weekend soon I'll have to help you run things to the dump."

"Oh Yggdrasil is a giant tree in the norse legends, it connects the nine worlds, and Jorg-Monster is a giant sea serpent. It's pretty much the tattoo equivalent of surf and turf." He looks about to say more when he immediately starts to slow down and bring the bike to a stop, right there in the middle of the barely trafficked road. The reason for this unplanned break is immediately clear as a black bear ambles along the side of the road, looking quite unsure as to whether it wants to cross here or not. Voice low as if the rumbling engine beneath them wasn't a dead give away to their position he says "Look at that, we got pretty damn lucky to spot that."

Claire smiles against that same ear when he nudges her head lightly with his own. "My evil plan is working. Soon you'll be tattooing nine-one-one on people so I get good advertising." She tips her head to rest her temple against the back of Geoff's shoulder as the world speeds past.

She listens to his story of Yggdrasil, her laughter warm against that shoulder when he describes it as surf and turf. "And why did you have that tatt--" She sits up and stares with wide eyes. Her words are hushed when she murmurs slowly, "Oh my god. Geoff!" She thrums his name at him as though he weren't the one who saw the bear first. The fully grown bear is too adorable for words, one of the reasons people end up in trouble with bears, thinking them harmless. Claire's hands grip tightly at the hips of his jeans atop his shirt. "So perfect..."

"Isn't it? That fellow is absolutely gorgeous. If he couldn't take my head off without thinking about it I'd be tempted to go over there an ruffle his ears." Geoff says as one hand slips down to rest overtop of Claire's for a moment "I bet you didn't really get this down south. From what I hear all you really got is deserts and arid environments."

Finally the bear begins to amble across the road, stopping momentarily to look at the two before finishing its crossing and diving into the woods to be lost among the foliage. Once the bear is out of sight Geoff pushes off once more and they are back to cruising down the road "Yeah...Things like that make it damn hard to go back home sometimes." after a moment he asks "I don't suppose you camp, do you?"

"Yes, he looks pretty snuggle-able, doesn't he?" Claire agrees, breathing in the scent of Geoff as she watches the bear from so breath-taking a distance. The bear disappears into the trees. "The Sierra Nevadas are only a handful of hours away. They're pretty spectacular. We didn't see a bear there the one time we camped by Lake Tahoe, but they said one had been through recently. That was my Freshman year of high school." She leans to the side to regard Geoff's profile, her fingers lacing lightly with his when they fall to where she's holding on to him. "You're like the inverse to the bear, I think. You present as dangerous and fierce but inside you're a sweet gentleman." She hums a little breathy note as a sigh. "Just the one time," camping. "But we were in foster care all the way through. We were lucky our host family took us camping at all." There's a tidbit about who Claire is and what she's lived through. "Why? Do you beat up wildlife, too?" She smiles a sly smile and drags her nose across one shoulder blade atop his shirt.

"You know, there's only one way to test that right. You have to see if I can cuddle. Which I absolutely can't because I'm not romantic." Geoff of course says this as he holds her hand driving through a forest on a glorified sight seeing trip. Definitely not a romantic. "Oh I absolutely beat up wildlife too, birds, squirrels, the odd hedgehog when they cop an attitude, all of it."

"Maybe you'll get a chance to one day though, go camping that is. Out here is pretty decent for it and you can get away pretty easily and forget about the world." this is said with a smile which of course Claire can't fully see "So what is it you do for fun? If you had a weekend free with no other care what would you do?

"Right. Not romantic," Claire agrees. "Not one bit." She bursts into vibrant laughter at his description of scrapping with small woodland creatures. "I'm picturing a raccoon getting the best of you. Yep. That's an image I'm keeping." She presses her smile against the back of his shoulder, her breath warm with laughter against his shirt.

"I don't think this day can get any better, so it's okay for you to turn coarse and rude and disagreeable now." She leans with him into a curve as he rounds it. "The only camping gear I own is a sleeping bag. And I'm pretty sure you need more than that to camp. Unless you're into discomfort, which I'm not." What did she do for fun? "The sorts of things I did in San Francisco aren't easily done in Gray Harbor. Last minute cheap tickets to major plays and musical. Musicians of any genre playing local pubs. Craaaaazy raves that didn't stop. Picnics and bike rides in Golden Gate Park. SF MOMA is my favorite all time museum. We knew some kids with a boat who invited us once for a day in the bay. You name it, you could find it in San Francisco." She sighs a deep sigh. "Here? My experience so far has been limited to pizza delivery, some waffles, and a strange shooting experience on the Boardwalk followed by some violence, lunch and a motor cycle ride. What have I missed? Tell me there's something, because right now the only bright spot in my future is throwing a party for some rookie cops at the house when Carter and I can get it whipped into shape." She adds, "With some help, I think."

Geoff says with a playful defensiveness "Hey Raccoons are quick and clever, I'd like to see you do better." Slowly their course takes them back through fields till eventually they end up driving on up the coast with the ocean off to the left of them." With a laugh and a light squeeze to her hand he teases "You're lucky that the best orchard around here is closed for another week or so or I'd show you that the day could get better." This issued as if it were a threat of merriment

"You know...I've never actually been to like a real museum. Well a big one, we had the same small ones that we'd visit in school around here but nothing with anything more then local history or a super narrow field." Glancing around he spots no police, and given this route is normally safe he speeds on up, giving Claire a taste of what it's like to fly "I hate to say it toots, but there's not too much more around here then that besides the occasional paintball game. I think you'll grow to like the small town life though, there's nothing else quite like it."

Claire giggles against Geoff's shoulder. "I have a new appreciation for raccoons. Maybe they're my spirit animal, who knows?" The young woman rests her cheek against Geoff's shoulder and falls into watching the ocean. "You forgot the ocean. Surely you spend time at the beach. I was out there earlier today and the breakers were spectacular. I also found a sand dollar while the tide was out." She's lucky. "Why orchards? Is there something special about trees planted in rows that I've missed all these years?" In the foster system, it's a wonder she had the experiences that she's had. A week isn't so long to wait. "Well, that's dismaying. You promise me delights and then take them away? You're a tease, Geoff Turner."

She listens to him talk about museums. "Oh, I wish I could take you to SF MOMA. They always have the most amazing exhibits. This last visit there were giant sculptural spiders, an exhibit done entirely in dust from 9/11, another that was surrounded by lengths of string in yellows, oranges, and reds that made it look like it was on fire when you walked around the full circle of it. And so many other things. There's always something new to see. It always made me wish I was an artist. I think you'd love it." She stops talking and slides her arms closer around Geoff, one hand sliding up from his middle diagonally across his chest. He accelerates and she laughs giddily, tightening her hold. "Faster!" The wind whips at her words.

Geoff is easily doing eighty in a sixty zone and oh how the scenery passes by in a blur, with the ocean in its enormity remaining the only steady point "Oh then I'll have to show you orchards then. If you haven't had an apple straight from the tree you're missing out." A laugh escapes the man as he ducks and dodges around two cars to cut in front of them, the thrill of high speed maneuvers driving him as he continues onwards.

Finally they crest a hill and the city of Gray Harbor is there before them only a couple miles out, so with growing closer to town naturally he slows down as police are more likely to be present "With all this talk of art I'm finding it amazing you haven't had any ink done yet. Then again I can't say you don't look pretty damn amazing the way you are without it.

Claire's giddy laughter peals out as they dodge around cars. "Oh, I like this part." She squeezes the man gifting her with the speedy ride. "You're talking about ... eating apples? Be still my heart: the excitement of it!" She grins behind him, the expression audible in her words.

She spies Gray Harbor coming into view and stretches up behind him to see as much of it as she can. "It's so small. A tiny town stuck between the forests and the ocean." Claire marvels over the concept of the life she's newly stepped into. But there's a highlight already. This man who saved her from an asshole, and the experience of his sense of humor and adventure. "You say 'yet' like it's inevitable. What if I want to keep my beautiful skin unmarred and pristine?" Sacrilege! Perhaps she's doing that on purpose. "Why? What would you put on me, Mister Turner?"

Geoff laughs easily "Hey you have times when you're in the fast lane, then there are others when you're just enjoying a good apple or the sound of rain on your roof. What, am I going to have to drag you to my place the next time there is rain to enjoy it with me?" This last part is half offer, half threat as if she might need a little convincing as to it being a good idea.

"Yeah, from this angle it all seems so small...So contained, it's hard to imagine it can contain such madness sometimes." Of course he hadn't mentioned any madness or crazy goings on before, but then again both of them glimmer and that is a thing one can't just hide even if it is just an unexplained attraction "Well if you want to keep your skin all nice and pristine, I don't think I could argue with that. As for what I'd put on you, something feminine and artsy and yet trouble and lively."

"When you put it that way,' Claire begins and doesn't need to end. Drag her to his place? She tips to one side and measures the man's expression. "That sounds nice." Gray Harbor rushes up on them even as Geoff decelerates.

She's nodding until he uses the word 'madness'. "What do you mean? Is there an asylum somewhere in the area?" She glimmers but she has no idea what it is or that she can use it. The best she knows now is that she sees Geoff with a little more of something around him. Maybe it was the hard blow to her head. She slides the hand that traveled up his chest back down to meet the other around his belly. It startles her when the tattoo artist is open to the thought of skin without any ink. "I would have bet against you saying that." His adjectives earn him a warm gaze. "I amend my previous theory. I think you might be a little more dangerous than advertised, after all."

"It's a date then." Geoff says amiably, unable to help but smile once more at the prospect. "Oh just things can get a bit crazy in town sometimes. People go missing, occasionally there are spurts of violence....You know the usual sort of thing." Having grown up here Geoff speaks of it as if every town in America was just as fucked up and prone to violence and disappearance as his hometown. Shifting back to the topic of tattoos he asks "What? Do I just have to have a thing for alt chicks with heavy ink, can't I have an appreciation for redheads with unmarked skin?"

Claire listens in silence to Geoff's description of life in Gray Harbor. Finally she speaks, "You're not kidding, are you?" She frowns. "That seems incongruous with what you normally think of when you hear about small towns. It sounds a little creepy." People go missing. Spurts of violence. She spends some time thinking about her run-in with the jerk. He speaks again. "Are you saying you have a variety of tastes, Geoff? Way to make things complicated. If you'd just choose one category to fit into, that would make you far more easy to --" To what? Claire props her chin atop Geoff's shoulder. "-- figure out," she finally finishes. "But no. you have to be a rain loving, apple eating, bike riding, bear finding, girl defending, hot dog eating, artistic leaning, home renovating speed demon. It's a little overwhelming, to be frank." She chides him, as if these aspects were moral failings.

Geoff shakes his head, "I'm not kidding the least, things aren't exactly calm here all the time. Keep your eyes open, you'll see." The bike pulls into town with Geoff taking a circuitous route back to the boardwalk to draw the encounter out "What you say that like you dislike that I've got depth, like an onion." after a pause he explains simply Layers, I've got layers." pulling up to the parking lot where they'd set out from he slows down into one of the spaces "Besides, I'd be willing to bet that you like all that you've seen."

Geoff gives Claire something to think about. "Well, I suppose I'll watch my step then. Are there certain parts of town that are more dangerous than others?" All five blocks of it? The young woman on the back of Geoff's bike watches the town roll by as he drives them through. "Like an onion, okay. You're definitely like an onion. Layer-licious." He pulls up and into a space back where they began and Claire just sits there until he shuts down the engine. "You're shy, too." Facetious, playful. She finally heaves a sigh and pulls her hands free of him only to use his shoulder to push herself up and swing her leg over the bike, hopping to the ground with a flutter of her dress. "That was glorious, Geoff. Thank you." Part of her expects that he'll be driving away now. She removes the helmet and hands it over. "You have my number. Text me sometime. And I'll let you know when we get the house cleaned out enough to try doing some work on it. You can meet Carter." Her brother. "He might be a cop, but he's a great person. I think you two will get along great." She backs up one step, two. "I think I'll head back to the beach and walk some of the thrill off."

Geoff explains idly "I wouldn't say any part was more dangerous the others. It just means you need to be aware of your surroundings." Once she is dismounting the bike and telling him to text her he winks "You know I might just text you for the fun of it when I got a little time, you never know." with a wry grin he commends "I'll do my best to behave around the cop brother, but for now I think I need to go make sure my shop hasn't burned down in the meantime. You take care of yourself, alright? If anything comes up or you're curious about anything you can always hit me up." and with that he's starting the bike back up, offering a lazy salute to Claire before he pulls on away and heads out of the parking lot.