2019-10-20 - Psychological Scarring, Free of Charge

The Grizzly is a local diner that's been around for a while, but is clearly under new management. The bear with the mohawk tips it off. As does the music playing: some sort of...medieval rococo heavy metal? That's what it sounds like, drums, guitars, and wind instruments with a lute there. There are, as usual, a handful of people scattered around: a single mom with three kids trying to get them all to eat while she talks on the phone, a group of quiet men probably from the sawmill, eating large platters of food, a homeless man in a booth muttering to himself and drinking coffee. A blond, androgynous person is perfunctorily setting food down for the kids, and at the counter there's Gina. Purple hair in gentle waves, a loose black blouse tucked into a high-waist pencil skirt, complete with an elaborate bow tied at the neck, sheer black stockings and pumps. It's a very early 1940s look - if they had goths back then, considering all the red lace at the collar, matching red belt, and heavy smoky eye and black lipstick.

And in through the door walks... well, a far less fashionable dude, for one. Sort of a dark teal hoodie, well-loved, over a pair of ripped (less from fashion and more from age) bluejeans, and nondescript sneakers. Short, too, barely topping 5'3", and of slight build. Really, if it wasn't for the bushy red beard and hair, and the piercing blue eyes, there'd be nothing to notice about James at all. He stops just inside the door, rubbing the top of his nose a moment before murmuring to himself, "... y'know, I feel like they're trying to go for a theme here..." He makes his way over to the counter, finishing with "... I can just bearly put my finger on it tho." He looks around for a menu.

You know how when you go to a restaurant normally, there's a bell at the door, and when it rings everyone looks over, eager to look you over, throw smiles your way, and hustle you with some concern into a seat? Yeah not at the Grizzly. There is a bell, and it does ring, but the blond just throws a look over their shoulder and goes to collect plates while holding the phone to her ear and chatting, and the purple-haired Gina at the counter does... nothing. Doesn't even look up, just continues studying her nails. But there are menus at the tables and booths! They're.. shaped like a bear silhouette on all fours, landscape-style, the fold along the bear's back. It's laminated, and slightly sticky. Eventually, though, Gina looks up and spots James. And studies him. Not saying anything. Just watching.

By the time she looks up and inspects the dude, James has found himself one of those menus, looking at it in quiet bemusement a second before cracking it open. He sniffs a little. "God if you're listening let this menu be full of bear puns."

God clearly hates James. Most of the menu is NOT bear puns. Except... not all of them. A few of the "signature dishes" are bear puns. As are some of the desserts, and a few drinks. So about a sixth of the items. But Gina is still staring, and at James's prayer, she rolls her eyes. "New in town?" She asks, still at the counter, comfortably resting her weight on her arms. She also sounds a bit resigned as she asks the question.

"Good enough.", James mutters at the menu once he's seen the pun to non-pun ratio, then blinks as he hears a voice seemingly directed at him. His eyes dart to either side a moment, just to be sure there isn't someone else sitting nearby who might be the actual target, but, no, it's just him. "Whu..?", he starts, then looks up and over at Gina. "Oh. Err. Not... really? Born here. Left fifteen years ago. Just got back because of reasons." He gives a rueful smile. "This place has a bit more color to it than the last time I saw it." He pauses, considering a moment. "I dig it."

"Well, now that you approve, I guess I can breathe easy." Gina says, her tone dry. So very dry. But at the knowledge that he is a local, both her brows raise and she looks him over again, "Who are you again?" After all, he doesn't LOOK familiar, but a lot of kids go away. Or disappear. And it has been many years.

Also, he didn't have the beard back in his teens. "James. James Hecker.", he replies, and tilts his head, looking at her as if maybe he might recognize her. There's... something there, maybe... but then again he's been getting spidey-sense signals from people ever since he got back to town so who even knows. "Locally known back then for such great deeds as nada, zippo, and jack squat."

As a very young child, Gina was... an upsetting, unsettling child who disappeared every summer vacation. When she hit the teens, she became much more social, wore all the black, and also dyed her hair strange colors. Sadly, James would likely only remember the creepy, knowing girl. If he remembers anything. The adult Gina, however, considers the Hecker name for a long moment before she pulls out, "Orphan kid, right? I remember there were only about five kids who became orphans about fifteen years ago, and three of them already bit it." How... comforting. Welcome back to Gray Harbor, James! "So you gonna order something or what?"

"Oh, yeah, right. The orphan thing. I forgot.", James deadpans back, because two can play that game. "And yeah. Gimme a... Bear-ger. And a beer." Alas, James' memories of the old days are fuzzy at best, whether because of time, because a lot of them are hard to... ahem... bear, or because you don't smoke as much pot as he has and keep your memories intact. Also because she was a girl, and James was an uber-nerd, and didn't exactly know a lot of girls back then. Was an uber-nerd. He's totally cool now. Totally. "Oh and a bearclaw."

"Slips my mind all the time." Gina says, pushing herself off the counter and pulling a notepad from her breast pocket, grabbing a hot pink pen to write down James's order. It's clear she also doesn't remember James, more or less, so it surely doesn't matter. The slip is jammed through the spike so the cooks can get the order, before she goes to pull the bearclaw from the pastries display. "No beer. We don't have a liquor license. Tea, soda, juice, coffee, or milkshakes. Or you can run across the street and grab a beer if you're that off the wagon."

"... no... beer.", James mutters, in a tone of voice that implies 'does not compute' without actually stating it out loud. He sighs. "No. I guess something non-alcoholic won't kill me. I should warn you, though, I don't really get any better when I'm sober, and that's a sobering thought in and of itself, let me tell you." He considers a moment again, tugging lightly on his beard. "Coffee. And a milkshake. Chocolate."

"Don't worry about it. My expectations were pretty much rock bottom." Gina reassures(?) in that same casual, hard-to-decipher voice. Is she joking? Being blunt? Both? Well either way, she turns to start up on the milkshake herself, scooping the ice cream, handful of chocolate bits - it's pretty simple stuff. After it's poured into an actual glass, she pours the coffee, setting them both down in front of James. "Milk and creamer's over there," Pointing, and not looking inclined to go get them FOR James or anything. The coffee is surprisingly good, as is the milkshake - not elaborate, but clearly the ingredients used were good ones. Maybe the coffee was even ground in hte last 24 hours. Who's to say? "So what do you think brought you back to town?" An odd way to put it. And an equally odd sliver of a smile on Gina's face, darkly amused.

James tastes the coffee first, without putting any cream or sugar into it, and purses his lips, then nods to himself. He then takes a sip of the milkshake, hmms, and nods again. "That'll work.", he murmurs, and looks about for a second before glancing back at Gina. "Hmm? Oh, well- my uncle passed away recently. Left me the old homestead in the will. Had to come back, do the paperwork shuffle. Figured I'd sell the place, I guess... tho it turns out old uncle dearest was a bit of a hoarder, so... got some work to do on it I guess." He pauses, then, almost hesitantly, asks "Can... Can I get another milkshake glass? An empty one."

Gina doesn't look surprised that James enjoys the coffee. In fact, she goes to start up her own milkshake after a moment, hers far more elaborate - at least, far more ingredients. Three types of ice cream scoops, handful of chocolate bits, toasted coconut shavings, a little bit of lemon zest - but she's listening to the story. Both brows rise, "Hoarder?" More curiosity than disgust. "Cool shit or old newspapers and cans?" She wonders, collecting a milkshake glass, her own milkshake, and bringign them both over. Empty glass to James, before she sips her own milkshake. "Or anything that could be interesting? I love estate sales." Of cooourse Gina does.

The music is medieval rock, Gina looks like a goth 1940s wife in her black blouse, skirt, pumps and sheer stockings with her hair in waves, and both she and James have milkshakes now.

"More the latter than the former so far, but I ran into an old friend who offered to come help me look through all the stuff soon, so, y'know... hope springs eternal for cool shit, right?", James replies, smiling back at Gina as she hands him the second, empty, milkshake glass. And then he goes about committing sins against both coffee and milkshakes: he pours half his milkshake into the other glass, and then pours half his coffee into each glass, and grabs a spoon to mix them up. "... there we go.", he says, and brings one of the glasses to his lips. "Milkshake mocha."

James going about with the coffee milkshake is about when Grace shows up. A loud gasp. "I do hope it wasn't a special brew." She calls out. Though soon there is humor on her face. Only having called out since she recognized James. Then she does go quiet and walk along and offer a smile and wave towards Gina as well. Perhaps come to check out the competition. Grace's own attire for the day seems to be a black leather jacket over a black shirt and black jeans, completing the dark look with black boots. Waiting to see if she is allowed to join the two of them or not. Else she will go to sit elsewhere.

Gina raises both eyebrows at James ruining two drinks for his frankencreation. And gives him a long, looong look, emotions shuttered neatly behind those dark eyes along with her final judgement. But she does raise her hands and clap once. Slow. Then claps again, at least a whole two seconds after. The slowest of slow claps. And one that doesn't rise in speed. "Congrats." She says in that deadpan way of hers, before she glances behind James to see who else walked in. Grace is looked at-- and then Gina turns around to go collect the plate of food set down on the counter. No greeting, no wave hello, no 'Need anything' or 'Anything I can help you with.' But hey, James's food looks amazing, the burger patties sizable and perfectly seared and juicy, the blend of cheese melted beautifully, on fresh, crisp fixins and a lightly toasted bun, the fries golden and crisp with a light sprinkling of flaky salt. Once again, it's gentle surprise of quality, considering the price.

James looks unduly proud of himself as he takes a long sip of the abomination he's made, and then hears Grace's voice. He glances over, looking mildly surprised. "Oh, hey, Grace!", he calls, giving a light wave. "Funny running into you. Well... small town, I guess it's not that odd after all. Gonna have to get used to that, huh?", he says, then turns back to the counter, just in time to have his burger served. "... oh, dang.", he says, eyes going wide at the sight of it.

Grace either doesn't notice, or doesn't mind. A smile and nods to James, "So it seems." Moving to sit nearby on the counter. Studying Gina some. "Surprise me with a burger." She offers, seemingly enjoy living risky. "And coffee or tea." Perhaps wanting to see how she brews it.

Gina just seems to accept James's reaction as normal, taking out her notepad and scribbling down something when Grace says to surprise her. The Coffee or Tea thing, however, gets her eyes rising to give Grace a flat look. "Either pick one or pick both." Gina informs Grace, before she goes stab the burger recommendation over to the kitchen, taking her milkshake with her. Upon her return, she leans against the counter, checking her phone briefly as a message comes through. "Surprising population even if it's small. We have a wave of people drawn here." Gina does note, not looking at either of them. Nope. Just at her phone, returning a message.

James gives a nod at Gina, as engrossed in his burger as she is in her phone. "Mmmf.", he agrees, then swallows, and takes a sip of his makeshift mocha milkshake. "Damn, that's good. And, yeah, been noticing that since I got back. Looks like a lot of us left at some point and then ended up back here. Hell I was expecting to just be in and out in a week, but getting that house ready to sell's gonna take a lot longer than that." He smiles a bit. "Besides, ran into some old friends too. So it's not so bad." He pauses. "Mostly not so bad. Still... weird." He glances at Grace. "Run anyone over lately?", he asks, half-teasing.

Grace smirks at Gina, "Well, whichever you feel confident with. But I guess both then." She offeres. Nodding about the amount of people. "True." Not disturbing either, thus taking up her phone as well, sending off some texts. Sighing a bit. Though then hearing James talk. "Glad to hear." Rolling her eyes. Faking that she will punch his shoulder, but stopping herself. Smirking at him. "Not yet." Is answered then.

"I feel confident not doing much work." says, and pours Grace a cup of the coffee. It's not a rare $45/lb bag of coffee eaten and pooped out by pandas or anything, but it's surprisingly good, the kind of thing that might even have been purchased as a bean and ground in the last 24 hours. "Milk and creamer over there." A gesture, and Gina looks uninclined to go get them. She leans on the counter near where James is again, and comments, "More than that. Not just the returners. But you'll figure it out the next few days."

"Well, don't worry, you'll get 'em next time, slugger.", James quips as he sees Grace winding up for that punch that never comes. He smiles, before blinking and glancing curiously over at Gina. "Oh, trust me, I know there's a lot more weirdness around here than just that.", he says, and shakes his head. "Avoid the Pond, s'all I'm saying." And then he takes another large bite of his burger, making happy munching noises as he does.

Grace does enjoy the coffee, but still makes a face. "Could treat the beans nicer." She offers, shrugging some. "Though it is quite nice." A smile at that. Not seeming to want to add anything to her coffee as she continues sipping. Looking between the two of them. Raising a brow about the pond. Not asking though. Leaning back a bit.

"Don't know about that. The pond's a good place to think. Fun for a swim." Again, that voice that is somewhere between sarcasm, sincere, teasing-- it's difficult to tell if she's joking or not.

And then she turns to Grace. Looks at her for a heartbeat. Two. And then, in that same 'true or not???' tone, adds, "I have a very limited amount of nice in me. If I focused more of it on the coffee, I wouldn't be able to work at my own diner. There are standards for customer service."

Did we mention Tal, the androgynous blond, is currently having a very... passionate... conversation over the phone about someone yet again being a disappointing failure of a human being who can't be supportive(?) while cleaning tables, the other waitress working, fortysomething in jeans that look purchased for a tween is currently blowing on her nails and telling the customers she'll put their orders in in a second, and of course, Gina herself has been... Gina.

James nearly jumps as Gina mentions swimming in the Pond. "Oh, no, no, no swimming. I mean, it's too cold out anyway, but, seriously, no. There's... frogs. And bugs." A beat. "Big bugs." He looks hesitant, debating quietly how much to say lest he be dismissed as the madman he likely is. "Uhm, pollution too. Runoff from one of the factories upstream. No bueno." Another beat. "And the frog." His eyes look off into the distance a moment. "... the frog."

Grace shrugs, "Perhaps. But I am there is a balance to it." She suggests. Glancing towards Tal as well, raising a brow, but won't interfere. Turning to Gina and studies her some. "IT's been good so far." Offered about customer service, hard to tell if she is sarcastic or not. Raising a brow as James is being, well. James. "Frogs are sweet." She offers. Making a mimic of a frog sound.

"It's not the right season for swimming in the pond. Heavy water. Sometimes it's not as heavy. But I walk there, sometimes. Because it's a pretty place." Gina straightens, hands on the counter - in those heeled pumps, she's almost a half-foot taller than the both of them, and maybe they've noticed or maybe they haven't, the way the shine's so strong in her. "You can't live your life worried about disturbing the quiet places, Hecker. You can't avoid the peace and quiet no matter what you do. Until you pack up everything, sell the house off and leave." And that thought seems to bring Gina a genuine bit of that black humor.

James nearly jumps out of his seat when Grace makes those frog noises, looking around like he's having 'Nam flashbacks. "Jesus, warn a guy next time!", he says, bringing a hand to his heart. "That's the second time you've nearly killed me since I got back to town." He takes a breath, and then looks over at Gina as she goes all spooky on him. He has, in fact, noticed the shine, and is trying hard not to. It's been a few days now and he's less gawky about it, not like he was when he first spotted Grace those few days ago. Might be why he barely makes any eye contact. Except now, now he looks a little freaked out. "You, uhm, I don't think you get it, it's... not safe, ok? Just... trust me on that.", he non-explains, then looks frustrated. "Ah dammit there's no way to do this without coming off crazy, is there?", he asks, of no one in particular, then turns back to his burger. "I love you, burger. You're the least complicated thing in my life right now."

Grace grins at James as he jumps some. Shrugging, "Sorry." Though seems more like revenge for his teasing earlier. Turning to nod to Gina as well. "Good comment." Offered to her. Probably having noticed the shine as well. Bright as it is. Raising a brow as she looks between them both.

Gina's brows raise at Jame's jumpiness, but she gives a faint smile when he says she doesn't understand. "I moved back years ago. I probably get it more than you do, right now. I just don't get involved. I'm retired." Says the person currently working at the counter of a bar, turning around to grab a plate and leave it in front of Grace. It looks to be... not a hamburger, really. But a spicy fried chicken burger, topped with fresh, colorful slaw and kept together with a toothpick, accompanied by long veggie chips. "It's easy to uncomplicate your life. Most people give too many shits for that."

"You don't look sorry.", James replies to Grace, then sighs. "But I guess I had that coming." A glance up at Gina before quickly averting his eyes. "See, fifteen years in NYC have left me with very few fucks to give. Two a day, max, on average. Three on a really good day. Four on Wednesdays.", he says, then pauses, looking thoughtful. "Not sure what's up with Wednesdays, but there you are.", he murmurs, lower, then spots the spicy chicken sandwich dropped off in front of Grace and he licks his lips, before turning back to his burger. "No, baby, no, I wasn't looking, you know you're the only one for me.", he apologizes to it, then takes a bite... but his eyes do dart back to that chicken sandwich. Typical male.

Grace studies Gina some, as she tries to make sense of the conversation. Sure, she might have some idea, but she isn't really used to these things, other than noticing them. And still new to town. Shrugging a bit as she listens. "Fucks to give or not, moving and doing is fun." She points out. A big bright smile at the spicy chicken sandwich. "Awesome." Taking it up to taste it. "Thanks!" Offered to Gina.

Gina looks at James, and she doesn't even try to hide the skepticism in that look. Clearly, she has a different guess as to James's reserves of fucks to give. But she just has another sip of her milkshake... and glances down at it with a flicker of betrayal when it begins making that Fzzfzzzzzz sound of almost-empty. Gina puts the glass in one of the dirty dish bins, before she pours herself a cup of coffee-- unlike the two weirdos over there, she pours some caramel syrup on hers - the sort of caramel that usually goes on ice cream sundaes. Stir, taste, enjoy slowly, both hands on the bear mug. Only then does she look at Grace, "We have vastly different ideas on fun."

"Mmm. Real ying and yang situation you two have going over there, yeah.", James mentions after swallowing, motioning vaguely in their direction. He finishes off one of the glasses of his frankendrink, and pull the other glass closer. "Is it. Uhm. Is it... good?", he asks Grace, once she's had a taste of her sandwich.

Grace does look to the caramel being poured into Gina's coffee. "Ooh, that is nice, once in awhile. Works great with beans that are a bit more bitter." She offers and grins. Shrugging to Gina about fun, "Probably. But I've stayed sheltered longer, so feels nice to be free." To some degree at least. Since she keep checking and talking with someone on the phone, over text. Blinking as she look to James, "Me and Gina?" She asks Looking to the other woman. Though then there is a comment about the sandwich. "Oh." After a moment offering a piece to James. "It is great."

Gina's brows creep up again at Grace's commentary. But she says simply, "Vastly different ideas." The look she throws James, however, at the Ying-yang comment, contains far more disdain. You idiot, James. That's the precise look her eyes are conveying. But then the working men who have demolished their food apparently want to pay for some pies, and so Gina just... wanders away from the group to continue working. Leaving Grace and James free to commiserate on the food and/or chat and/or flirt and/or gossip for a bit!

Look, it's not the first time James has gotten that look from a woman, and, let's face it, it probably won't be the last. I mean, he probably has no idea why he's an idiot, but the look he gives her back is 'yes I know, I did warn you I wasn't any better when I'm sober, so really, I think we're both to blame here'. Very expressive eyes on this dude, really. Grace's offer of a piece of her sandwich provides an escape, though, and he smiles at her. "Oh, thanks!" He takes the offered sandwich piece, and pops it in his mouth, closing his eyes a moment. "Oh. Mmm." He doesn't even glance back at his half-finished burger! Shameless hussy, this guy.

Grace does look to Gina curiously. "Yin and Yang, both neccessary." Optimistic at least. Shrugging some. Watching as Gina moves away. Giving it a moment before looking back to James. Grinning as he enjoy the chicken sandwich. Humming some and looking between them. Enjoying her own food.

The far more positive reaction to James' blathering from Grace just goes to prove his point, of course, but he's too much of a gentleman to point that ou- "See, that's what I mean!", he points out. You idiot, James. He glances after Gina a moment, but she's busy providing that classic Grizzly customer service, so he looks back to Grace. "So, uh... what do you do, anyway, Grace? I mean, other than the waitressing and the running around town like a ninja?"

Grace smiles, "I work as waitress and brewing." She points out to James. "But I do some stuff as a hobby, want to be able to work with it. But doubt there is much around for it here." Sighing. "Might check with Kelly's gym about it." As for the calling out from James to Gina has Grace rolling her eyes, before looking to Gina.

James says, "Oh yeah? Hobby? Listen, y'gotta stick with it if it's something y'love, y'know?", James is telling Grace over at the counter, the two sitting side by side and enjoying burgers and chicken sandwiches. All very cozy. The little ginger dude tugs at his beard a bit as he pauses. Over by the other tables, Gina is off providing some of that famous Grizzly customer service. "Like, with my writing. Was a hobby and I thought no one would ever be interested and I'd never get published, and, hey, I was only half-wrong. I did get published." He frowns. "No one was interested, though, but... that's beside the point. "So, you go check with that gym. Go get 'em, kid.""

Breezing through the door like a boss is one ginger-haired demon. Frankie is bright, sunny, and entirely dressed in black from head to toe despite it all. Black t-shirt, black hoodie, black jeans, black ankle boots, black upon black. But that attitude? Nothing but annoyingly bright cheer as she storms the castle, or the counter, dropping herself onto a stool, hands tucked into the front pockets of her hoodie.

Grace smiles to James and nods, "Thanks, I will." She agrees, not seeming hard to convince at least. Nudging him some. "You just been going and asking the wrong people if they want to read your stuff." She teases. Though the sound of the door opening has Grace looking over to spot Frankie, tilting her head as she takes in the newest arrival. Who is even dressed much similar to how Grace is at the moment. A small wave offered, but not wanting to disturb her. Instead finishing her food and sipping on the coffee.

James brings his burger back to his mouth, as if he hadn't just cheated brazenly on it with a bite of Grace's chicken. Hussy. The nudge from Grace causes the little ginger dude to sway in his seat a bit, and he chews and swallows before replying, "No, trust me, no one wants to read it and I don't blame them. I'm working on a new one anyway." He pauses, looking off into the distance once more. "... possibly about the frog.", he murmurs, memories flashing in his mind a moment, causing him to fail to notice Frankie's entrance. There is only... the frog. And then he blinks and shakes his head. "Anyway. Follow your dreams, is what I'm saying." He takes another bite of his burger.

There is a wave, and Frankie gives a smile in return, but not a wave. Then she's looking around for who might be the lucky person to take her order for the day, only to overhear what James says instead, and her attention swings towards them once more, "Are you two looking to learn about the future?"

Gina finishes "helping" people, and also informing Tal no, they can't use a whole shelf of the freezer in the back for personal use, yes, they must stay for their shift unless they find somebody to cover for them. And then blatantly ignoring James and Grace in favor of her phone-- but oh, hey. More soulless redheads! Gina finishes up whatever she's checking on her phone, before she wanders to lean against the counter in front of Frankie, holding her coffee, "I pissed off the thing you brought in last time." Gina mentions, sipping at her coffee, "Is he a brony?" There's a casual glance over at James and Grace that manages to convey Gina has no idea how they're still here.

Grace raises a brow at Frankie's words, "Not really, but if you are offering." She offers with a smile. "Grace." Offered with a tilt of her head. If Frankie offers a greeting hand it will be taken, but otherwise just smiling. Not knowing how the other is with personal space. Nodding to James as well, about dreams and whatnot. Glancing between Frankie and Gina as they seem to know one another.

"Sure, y'got next week's Powerball numbers?", James replies instinctively as he hears Frankie's offer, before he turns around and spots her. And then realizes what he said. "Sorry. Brain think mouth say, it's a problem, I know.", he sorta-apologizes to her. His shifted position means he spots that look from Gina, and he just shrugs as if to say 'dude, I don't know either, the world's full of mysteries'. Real expressive eyes on this dude, as established previously.

"Rainbow Dash." Frankie replies promptly to Gina's question, but then she pulls her left hand out of the pocket of her hoodie, sliding her hand across the counter towards her to show off the ring on her finger. When James asks about the Powerball numbers she answers, or guesses, "Five, ten, forty-two, sixteen, nine and forty-two again." She then glances over at the other two, smiling mostly at Grace, "Frankie."

"She-demon." Gina corrects Frankie's introduction, even as she goes in and looks at the ring. Eyebrows aaaaalll the way up. And a disgusted scoff. "Seriously? You're so fucked up." The Gina Pot informs the Kettle Frankie. Her attention then goes to James of the Expressive Eyes and Grace of the Gross Cheer, "She's does good at the future stuff. I hate it and suck at it." Gina throws that tidbit out there.

Grace snickers some at James' words. "Thank you." Offered about the numbers, guessed or not. Smiling in return. "Nice meeting you Frankie. She-Demon is a nice nickname though." Nodding some about the future stuff. "Probably, but what's the fun in that?" Pondering though. "But I shouldn't say no without trying." A shrug at that.

James winces slightly at the lack of wattage in his direction from Frankie's smile. "... still got it, James old boy.", he mutters under his breath, and turns back to pick at his fries and sip at the last of his milkshake/coffee mistake. He raises a brow and gives a half smile as he hears Grace snickering. At least one person appreciates his particular brand of weird here. Hearing Gina's ringing endorsement of the She-Devil's fortunetelling skills, though, he tilts his head. So far Gina hasn't let him wrong: both his burger and that chicken sandwich have been excellent, and you know you can trust someone who leads you to good food. So, he turns back around, and gives Frankie a rueful smile. "Hey. Sorry, seriously. Didn't mean to be a dick. Besides. This town sorta requires keeping an open mind, I've noticed, so... if the offer's still on the table?", he asks, glancing over at Grace in agreement.

"Seriously." Frankie replies with a bright smile for Gina, despite being called a She-demon or being told she's fucked up. That's just how Gina shows her love. "You going to come to the wedding, right?" She fully expects for her friend to come, even if she might not actually want to. She gives her fingers a final waggle to make certain that Gina sees exactly how fancy the ring is, nad that it is not a creative illusion. Then she turns her attention towards James, her brows lifting, "What're you apologizing for? Just remember those numbers, you'll win." She lifts a hand up, crossing her fingers over her heart before she flashes a smile at them both, "If you really, really really want to know...come by the parlor tomorrow."

Gina falls quiet, looking at James a moment, before she adds, "Not too open. Things fall in instead of out, here. Keep a selective mind." Gina's on a roll, voluntarily handing out advice to people who stop by! Before she turns to give Frankie an even look. "I'll be wearing black." That is like 90% of her wardrobe. "And I am taking no active role in the wedding unless you need a Bloodlet Witness." That part is firm, solemnly said, followed by that slight smile that makes one wonder, once again, if Gina is teasing or not. Towards Grace, a glance, "I'm pretty sure you were dropped on your head multiple times as a child." It doesn't even sound like she's dissing Grace, more like she's just read a fascinating clue about the woman.

Grace does look between James and Frankie at the apology, but not really chiming in. Finishing the coffee. As for Frankie's words on weddings, it does just have her listening. Until the talk about coming by the parlor. "Maybe, we'll see." A snicker at Gina's words. "Perhaps, or not often enough, who knows." Then again, she is taking bumps these days, so concussions are possible. "You still enjoy it." She teases with a wink. Maybe trying to get on Gina's nerves.

James chuckles a bit at Frankie's response. "Respect the hustle. Sure. Why the heck not.", he replies, before glancing up at Gina and her dire portents. "Well, y'see, I'm a writer. Not a good one, don't worry, not gonna start quoting Bukowski and my novel ain't about a lonely guy who goes to diners because he's so misunderstood by the world." He doesn't say what his novel is about, though. "But that's sorta my schtick, right? Letting things fall in, letting them digest, and then, blarf, onto the page." Ah, the romance of writing, expressed eloquently by a true wordsmith. And then there's the back and forth between Gina and Grace, and he opens his mouth, as if to say something ying-yang-related, but that one overworked brain cell he has that does its best to warn him when he's about to say something stupid actually perks up with a 'hell no', and he closes his mouth again. Oh hey, look, he still has some fries left. Omnom.

"You might not, but I bet Gina can." Frankie points out before she beams further at Gina, even if she has no idea if either of them actually knows Bukowski. Then she reaches into her back pocket to tug out a slightly bent up card, sliding it down the counter towards James and Grace, "Trust me, you really want to come visit." She then glances towards the door, like she might be waiting on someone, "I'm not sure where it'll be...but he wants to do it right. I suggested just signing things at city hall."

"Bukowski was an idiot." Gina says with a small shrug, before she moves to collect a plate from the kitchen - and set it in front of Frankie. Did Frankie order a cheeseburger with a side salad of mixed greens with toasted seeds for added texture and a light, bright viniagrette? Maybe not, but that's what she's getting. "You do you, Hecker-- oh, hey, Frankie, did you know he's James Hecker? Remember those five kids who all lost their parents that year?" Gina says this as if it wasn't likely a defining, tragic point of a man's life but just another reference point, like his red hair. She refreshes her own coffee, checks Grace's cup, and responds to her winking with a casual, "Projection is an overdone psychological trope."

Grace raises a brow as she looks to James at Gina's explainer. As for anything else talked about earlier between James and Frankie, she just listens and takes in. "I will." Said to Frankie about dropping by. As for Gina's words, she shrugs. "Perhaps." Not seeming to really care. "I just need to add fans." She says, without explaining.

James says, "... guilty as charged. But it's ok, was a long time ago, I'm totally over my parents mysteriously burning to death in the bedroom of the house I just inherited from my hoarder uncle- a fire which, by the way, barely even scorched the walls of the bedroom but left their corpses little more than cinders. Yup. Totally over it, water under the proverbial bridge, and I turned out completely ok, just, like, so well-adjusted that the only reason I go to a therapist is so they can examine me and try to figure out how I got to be so well-adjusted, it's nuts.", James blarfs out. "I'm totally fine." Clearly. He's starting to feel like some of these conversations are going over his head, but, let's be fair here. At 5'3", a lot of things go over his head. Hey-oh."

"Did they float to the ceiling and burn there?" Frankie wonders, glancing over towards James at that, looking honestly interested in this answer, even if James likely doesn't ever want to even think about the question. She then glances towards Gina, then Grace, then back towards Gina with a highly confused look on her face before she just shakes her head, nope. She gives up.

Gina fiddles with her phone for a moment, and the medieval rock suddenly blasts... oh, well, of course, the natural transition from German Medieval Rock is ABBA's Gimme Gimme Gimme. Makes perfect sense. Gina meets Frankie's eyes, and one shoulder rises and falls. Eh. Welcome to Diner Time in Gray Harbor. Before she looks back at James. Is there a flicker of guilt in her eyes? ...no, actually. That was actually something like a spark of interest in James's blurted word-vomit non-admission. She takes her coffee and pushes herself to half-sit on the counter in that 1940s get up, "Are there smoke marks on the ceiling?" What the heck is WRONG with Frankie and Gina?

Probably a lot.

Grace should be the voice of reason now, probably. Nah. Just looking between them. "I am sure there are a lot of things going on. Always nice to talk it out. Perhaps clues can come out of it." Shrugging. Listening as well. She's not into paranormal things, but perhaps true crime is interesting to her. For now just listening.

James points a finger at Frankie. "Y'know, they might have.", he replies, and takes a breath. "Maybe I'll go back home and spend a few hours picturing just that, just, y'know, letting it all fall in and marinate, really chew on that particular mental imagine of my parent's death, yeah.", he deadpans. "Or- hear me out here, maybe, maybe I go back home and get transcendentally high and, y'know... not think about that. That's an option too." He starts reaching for his wallet, and glances to Gina when she asks her question. "So, do I, like, pay extra for the psychological scarring, or is that included in the meal?" And then there's Grace, and he blinks at her. "Well, you all, like, enjoy figuring out the great mystery. Me, I'm going across the street to where my good friend Johnnie Walker lives, maybe stay a while, catch up." He starts digging around in his wallet. Aw, James.

"I was legit..." Well, Frankie was being curious for honest reasons. But even she knows when to actually stop digging around in her own grave. So she just turns her attention towards her burger, then looks up at Gina, "Can I have it to go? I'll take it back to Greg." At least she can make someone not sad today.

Gina watches James bleed a little more old pain after she scratches at that old emotional scab, and she... doesn't change expression. Her coffee is brought to her lips, and she takes a small sip when James mentions getting transcendentally high, and meets his eyes with when he begins to bring out the money. That confusing smile, that might be mocking, might be casual, but is probably more than a little irritating at the moment. "Trauma is cheap in Gray Harbor. Welcome back, Hecker." And then she slides back off the counter, adjusting her skirt before she sets her mug down and collects Frankie's plate to box up. "You poke at mysteries, they cut you. No matter how old, here. Something will always come cut you." The latter probably to Grace, though Gina's not looking at her. Instead, she burger is sorted out, and put in front of Frankie. "We need to talk one day about this whole fiance thing, Frankie. I've got some questions."

Grace tilts her head, "Oh." Shaking it then. "Sorry. " Nodding then. "I'll bring you pie." She assures James. Perhaps in attempt to sway any dark thoughts heh as. Because, you know. Pie. Looking slightly bothered. "I got caught up." Shaking her head some. Looking to Frankie and Gina as well. Though she finishes up some of her stuff. Studying James as he is about to head out. Nodding to Gina about being cut, "Nothing new there." Shrugging. Studying Gina for a moment, perhaps pondering poking at her.

James plops a couple of bills on the table. Enough to pay for his bill and a surprisingly generous tip despite the whole 'dredging up old painful memories with a side of fries' thing. "Y'know what? Go to the Pond. I don't care. Tell the frog hi for me.", he mutters at Gina, because apparently that's the best retort he can come up with? Weird, sad little dude. And he starts to turn to head off, but Grace is offering pie. He whirls on her, raising a finger, as if about to go off on her next, and then he just seems to... deflate a bit, and he lowers his finger and sighs. "... I fucking love pie. Dammit.", he mutters, and then does finally turn around, marching for the door. "... teach me to go anywhere in this damn town while sober again.", he grumbles under his breath. And so he heads for the streets, hunting the deepest mystery he's prepared to handle tonight: what lies at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey?

As James reaches the door, he stops, and suddenly sneezes. "... oh, great.", he says, and heaves a dramatic sigh before opening the door, clearing his throat, which has been feeling a bit scratchy now that he thinks about it.

"I've got answers." Frankie starts to get to her feet, collecting the container and skipping that whole paying thing. Maybe she pays Gina by helping to contribute to other people's emotional pain instead of cash? Whatever it is, she glances towards James when he leaves, then back to Gina, "You can shoot me a text when I walk out the door, it'll help you do stuff to pass the time."

You know. Instead of working.

Miss Castro doesn't say goodbye. There's a lazy two-fingered salute, perhaps in deference of the outfit she's wearing, as James and Frankie make their way out. "Only if you tell the liquor guy to remember my cut." She responds lazily to James's outraged farewell. But then there's a shrug, as she collects the empty plates and cash, to settle them away. She does look towards Grace for a moment, before she puts everything away-- and the slight smile she had fades away, into the flat look of boredom. "I get it. Firehouse's kid. Makes sense now. You want anything else while I'm up?" Gina asks, before she continues on her way. The cellphone will come out soon, too.

Grace flashes a smile to James. "I bring it to your place." She assures him. Blinking at Gina. Perhaps not following. "Yup! More coffee." She offers and grins. Taking out her phone and sending a text before stretching some. "So, what else fun do you do, except for playing on your phone."

Grace also gives a small wave to Frankie as she leaves

"Didn't we have this conversation." Gina asks, as she finishes tidying up, then moves to a stool, crossing her legs as she perches atop and pulls out her phone, texting away. It would almost be picturesque, if Gina had a little more oomph and charisma instead of the aura of an emo hedgehog with a bad stomachache. "I do dick all. Go home. Play with my cats. Go to estate sales or check out online auctions. Walks when I like the weather. I like the quiet side of Gray Harbor."

Grace grins, "Probably we did, but I need a reminder." She says and grins. Nodding some at the explainers. "Sounds interesting. Want to be my guide?" Because Gina is such a people person.

"No." Quick and decisive, that. Without even any follow-up! Ouch, Gina.

Grace snickers a bit, oh she was prepared for that answer. Leaning forward. "What if I just follow you when you walk around?" Yeah, clearly just messing with Gina.

"You'd get bored eventually." Gina says, not even looking up from her phone. "I told you. I'm basically retired. Plus the weather's been shit for walks. I don't want to catch the flu going around." A glance towards the door, then towards Grace. "If you're looking for fun, just go to the town events. The Committee plans things just so."

The front door opens, and through the doorway, a large man steps through, ducking his head under the door frame. Maybe its the decor. Maybe it's the ABBA music. Maybe it's both; Everett pauses like a moose caught in headlights, green eyes a little open. The drizzle from outside rolls off his leather jacket, dripping from his long black hair that clings to him like a horror pulling herself up from a well.

Nope.

Everett about faces without much more than a heart skip, meaning to push his way back outside and braving the cold, wet Pacific Northwest weather.

Grace nods to Gina. "Well, true. But you're fun." Said quite deadpan. If she did get more coffee she will sip on it. If not, she will just relax a bit in her seat. Which is then that the door opens. Watching Everett. Since he seem a bit lost she won't wave, but at least a small smile is offered towards him. As for the music and the different ones that have been in here, she isn't really reacting much to any of them, not seeming to mind anything from medieval rock to ABBA.

Gina only glances up at the bell. And... grins. One of those rare mischievous, non-malicious, actual grins. "I love it when that happens." She comments to no one in particular, but with much satisfaction.

Eventually, though, she looks at Grace, and nods, the indifference starting to creep back in. "Yeah. Your type love me. But it's not worth the effort of chasing you away, so you do you. Not going to care until you cross a line."

Grace chuckles as Gina has a geniune grin, amused at the comment. Though then she look a bit more serious, "Doubt you know my type." She points out. Though shifting some and smiling again then.

"I know the type you're projecting." Gina says, not seeming at all to care about the seriousness. "But you've pegged my type by now too, is my guess." Gina glances away from her phone to look at Grace, then back to the phone again. "It's irritating as fuck. But I'm a very easy person to read." Gina even manages to say this with a straight face. The skill. The talent.

Grace shrugs, "Not really. I don't care for types. Just people." She offers and look to Gina. "There might be a type people suggest that you are, but still." Shrugging some. "Anything fun on your phone?" Her curiousity getting the better of her again.

"Oh, there are definitely types of people." Another humorless, before Gina shrugs. "Talking to people I hate less than most." She responds, simply. "Have to catch up on things. I was out of town for a few weeks."

Grace nods and studies her some. "Neat. Hope you enjoy your time back." She offers. Stretching her legs some. "What are the types of people?" She asks. Perhaps truly wanting to know. "I doubt you enjoy sports stuff?"

"Forged my dad's handwriting to get out of gym class in high school. Never regretted the choice." Gina responds. And then gives Grace a mildly bored look. "It's not Cosmo. It's not like there's a limited number of types with neat traits. And I don't carry a convenient list to show people."

Grace shrugs, "Then make one." Rising to her feet, paying for the food and drink. "I'd be happy to make coffee for you sometime. And well, list or not. I'll make it my duty to try and amuse you." She says and smirks. "I can take your number though." She suggests and smirks. "Though I would want to ask what type you figure I am." She says and smiles, starting to head out though. Not wanting to bother Gina too much. Also, she has places to be. Probably.