2019-11-04 - It's a Girl!

The Gray Harbor Police Department. Finch has been pretty good at avoiding this place since she was 13. She spent several long hours sitting in an interrogation room at that time, explaining to detectives how her mother tried to murder her, and how she "missed" with her knife strike and broke her arm on a door frame. Not how it happened. Finch's Glimmer manifested and she broke Wren Celaeno's arm with a thought, then escaped to hide on top of the roof of Mallard House while her grandmother called the police. She doesn't remember much of what happened that day, but she remembers being scared and horrified and wanting to throw up a lot.

And here she is once more, this time entering the building willingly. But she's not alone. Ignacio is there for support. Her hand is gripping his tightly as they walk in. The receptionist directs them to the right for the police department, and to the office of Police Captain Javier de le Vega. Her hair is still pink, and she's dressed casually, in jeans and a sweater with Ignacio's hoodie over it all, and her usual combat boots. Her star purse is slung crossbody. She left the goggles home today.

"Thanks for coming with me," she whispers to Ignacio as they approach the office. Then she raps her knuckles on Ruiz's office door.

Ignacio isn't fast, but she waits for him and he keeps up. He's in jeans and a crew neck sweater. The shoes are sturdy but pretty good in repair; he's clean but dressed for comfort over fashion. Still this is a big day so he's absolutely presentable as authors go. Looking to her he blinks before she knocks and the uneven smile warms, "Well, we're a team. I wouldn't miss it. Just remember, whatever happens?" The eyebrow goes up and he doesn't finish that statement but she knows. She's not losing anything, only gaining answers. he even washed the hoodie and let her borrow the clean one. His hand finds her back and slides up to her shoulder giving it a squeeze. "Hey, I'll take you for lunch after this." Last night may have been epically trying, but any day of the week he is 1000% down with dealing with Finch's tribulations and avoiding dealing with his own. It's his other super power.

An officer is sent down to accompany them through the locked (and possibly blast-proof) door and up the stairs. The reasons why should be obvious: cop killers are a thing, not to mention the live firearms and other manner of things that can kill people, that they've got stashed up there. "Captain, got a couple of visitors for you," the young woman informs him. She looks like a rookie; petite and dark-haired, though armed of course like everyone else here. Finch and Ignacio are given a curt nod before she departs.

The captain, meanwhile, is finishing up on a call. He's in full uniform today, rather than the off-the-rack suit he's generally found in. Black on black on black, and bristling with weaponry: a mean-looking gun in his duty rig, a taser, a radio and a set of handcuffs. Shiny pins on his collar, and a nametag that reads: 'J. R. de la Vega'.

His phone's tossed onto his desk, and he pulls to his feet slowly as the pair walk in. "Hello. How can I help you?" He remembers, surely, Finch saying she had something to talk to him about; his eyes go to her, and he waits.

Finch walks in when he finishes his call and looks to Iggy to close the door behind them. She's pretty sure the Captain won't want everyone else to hear what she's come here to discuss with him. She takes a long moment, shuffling her feet, before she takes a seat, pulling her purse into her lap. "This is going to sound really bizarre," she begins. She digs in her purse and pulls out an old, yellowing polaroid photo. She slides it across his desk. "Do you remember this?" she asks. "That is you, right? I mean the tattoo is the same and everything."

It's a photo of a much younger him, circa 1994, in a nightclub with his arm around a dark-haired woman in denim overalls with a bandeau top under them. She's pretty, and she looks quite a bit like Finch.

Ignacio murmurs a "Gracias" to the petite officer escorting them. His eyes go everywhere around as they walk taking in the curious details, but never wandering further than shoulder to shoulder. He lets her enter first and quietly closes the door nodding to the Captain, "Sir. Fince Celand.
Ignacio de Santos. Thank you for, um, meeting with us." Right the Spanish kid with the trumpet. At least he's not known int he police station. That's a fair sign right? He sits and remains calm doing all he can to watch and try to read the inscrutable man who is no doubt far better at burying thoughts and feelings than Ignacio is at perceiving them. Still these things happen without meaning to. They just... happen. Likewise he looks to Finch, but doesn't broadcast any thoughts her way. He listens, and he waits.

Ruiz takes his measure of the young man accompanying Finch, to be sure. He recognises him too; from the night before, and in scattered fragments from a half-remembered dream. After a long, possibly impolite span of time, his dark eyes flick back to Finch, and he clears his throat before reaching for the photo. It's lifted off his desk and stared at for a few seconds. There's a little tic in his jaw.

Finally, after an uncomfortably long pause, "Where did you get this?"

Finch swallows hard and flits her eyes to Ignacio for a moment. Then she folds her hands over her purse in her lap. "My mother hid it away. The woman in the photo is my mother, Wren Celaeno. That photo was taken on Friday, May 13th, 1994. At a nightclub. And the man in that photo is very likely my father." She lets that truth bomb drop for a moment, watching Ruiz's reaction to it all. "She never told me who he was, never told anyone. But I found the photo. On the back she wrote he was Of the Meadow. That's the meaning of the surname de la Vega, isn't it?"

There is a glimmer of something hopeful in the woman's dark eyes, eyes that look an awful lot like Javier's.

Ignacio is really good with holding up under uncomfortable staring. Lookit em go! He sits back in his chair, side of his foot against the side of Finch's sneaker. The New Yorker watches the cop, waiting. He's got one horse in this and that is know what this situation is to protect Finch's feelings. She can do all her ow battles, sure, but he promised to be there to watch her back and right now he's watching her father with that zen calm.

The weird thing is Ignacio can't tap his abilities on purpose, only execute his intent, and his intent is to know. Know if he's about to hurt her, or worse, reject her. He doesn't know this guy from a bag of flour, but he will, and with surprising clarity though he might not even realize he's doing it.

The captain stares hard at Finch when she mentions her mother's name. A name he's clearly familiar with, even if he has to reach back a good number of years to dredge up the memory of it. He turns the polaroid over to glance at the back, and there's a twinge of his lip like he might bare his teeth, when he feels that brush of contact from Ignacio's mind. His gaze snaps toward the younger man's, a flash of annoyance telegraphed in his dark eyes. Does Ignacio really want to piss off the guy with a gun?

Then his attention's dragged back to the pink-haired girl when she utters the F-word. Father, that is. "...what?" The word is soft, and scratchy, and a little uneven. "I..." And then the normally unflappable man simply sinks into his chair, elbows coming down atop his desk and the heels of his palms dug into his eye sockets. The polaroid skitters to the floor, and he's still and silent.

Finch grabs for the falling photo, her only link to her origins, and scrabbles for it on hands and knees. She is apologetic and somewhat frantic in her reaction to Javier's reaction. "I'm sorry, I'm not here to ask you for anything or you know, make you be a dad or something. I mean it's a little late in the game for that right? Unless it's something you want." She plucks the photo from the floor and gets back up, putting it into her purse.

"I'm here because you might be in danger, because of me. My family is kind of cursed." Kind of? Really? "And normally you'd be safe because you're not of the right generation but something went wrong when my mother tried to kill me when I was 13 and now I might just go murderbird on you and Iggy and everyone else or the Harpy might come for you all and me too." That was all in one breath. Eyes wide, his eyes, stare at him in worried confusion.

"We could take a DNA paternity test thing? But I'm pretty certain you're my father. Last night, at the Day of the Dead thing, someone came to dance with me I didn't know. He looked like you but a little different. He was in a military uniform, not our military though. It said S. de la Vega on it. And he danced with me, and kissed my head, and told me in Spanish to not be afraid of you. That you're a good man, in spite of the things you've done."

Ignacio locks eyes with the man that can pretty much best in in any way but words. Hey he's a yappy bastard. Nature leaves all critters with some sort of skill. Still there's to challenge there watching him and his hands spread apart in front of him, no hay problema aqui. The picture falls and a hand shoots out but he's not fast as he used to be and Finch tucks it away safe.

He takes a deep breath quietly telling Finch, "Give em a sec." He lets Ruiz take the wave of information and adds using very sincere, calm words, "Dijo que no te preocupes. Eres humano, pero en el fondo eres un buen hombre. Estamos dispuestos a creerle a este tipo." He pauses murmuring, "Pajarito tiene miedo y necesita ayuda, resolucion, y queremos asegurarnos de que sepa si hay algun peligro porque esta ciudad es extrana. Sée que esto es mucho, señor, y ... Lo sentimos." He apologizes with a slight flinch "Lo... siento."

((Translation, roughly, "He said don't worry. You're human, but deep down you're a good man. We're willing to believe this guy." ...
"Little Bird is afraid and needs help, resolution, and we want to make sure you know that you might be in danger, because this city is strange. I know this is a lot, sir, and ... We're sorry." I have apologizes with a slight flinch "I'm ... sorry.")

It doesn't really take a reader to conclude that the man is, in a word, overwhelmed. First, the gut punch of being told that some fling he had with a pretty girl twenty years ago produced a child. A child, that nobody thought to inform him about until now. And then there's the rest of the words pouring out of the both of them to contend with. And his father. Santiago de la Vega, one of the names he has inked into his skin, in point of fact, though hidden at the moment under his uniform. He spoke to Finch. Why not him? Why didn't he speak to his own son?

He swallows eventually, drags his hands down his face with a soft scrape of beard against rough skin, and scrubs a couple of times before pushing back in his chair. His dark eyes glitter with what could be unshed tears, and practically pin Finch in place where she sits. "Please start over. Tell me what you want from me." His radio crackles with a message from dispatch, and he switches it off, and tugs out the earpiece.

Finch sits heavily back in the chair and she watches him, her eyes looking to shiny from unshed tears. She doesn't understand more than a few words out of Ignacio's mouth but she knows he's probably trying to smooth things over, because it's what he does. She lets out a slow breath and tries to compose herself.

"I want to know the other half of who I am I guess, but that is secondary to wanting you to be safe. Wanting everyone in my life and my family to be safe. There's some files you can pull, that will tell you a lot of what happened but," she grimaces. "The short of it is, a long time ago, a woman in my family made a deal with something Over There." She's trusting he knows about that stuff, since he was in Ignacio's Dream.

"Since then, every other generation, once the next generation has been established, has the Harpy Curse kick in. The oldest female of that generation goes batshit insane and murders every male of her generation, blood and marriage related. Gray Harbor should have record of Piper Celaeno murdering people in 1920. Then Starling Celaeno did the same in 1981. In 2008, my Uncle figured out the pattern, and that it went back to the family in New York, and way back to Greece. And that is why my mother tried to kill me when I was a kid, to try and stop the cycle. But that triggered my abilities, two decades early, and now things are totally fucked."

She knows Iggy as well as herself that's for damn sure. A quiet mental prod assures her"It's okay. Go slow." He says nothing out loud. Leaning back he leaves his hand on Finch's back letting the truth come out, but not pocking at Ruiz's head anymore at least. He speaks only to add trying to keep things quiet and conversational, "We visited her mom for answers and that's when we were, long way around, handed the photo. I think... maybe she was trying to protect you. We're, um... we're working to fix some things but... yeah." His thumb brushes the back of er shoulder in his hoodie where she sits in the chair adjacent and tells her, "That was good. Proud of you."

It's probably greatly due to what Ignacio said to him in Spanish, that the captain has even managed to compose himself at all. The younger man is watched quietly while he continues to chew on his words; no hint of challenge, in his posture or in his eyes. He has the look of an old, mean dog about him. But one who picks its battles, perhaps.

Turning back to Finch, he furrows his brows slightly as he listens to her. To anyone else, in any other town, she'd probably be getting a very different reaction right now. Incredulity, followed by stop wasting my fucking time. But he listens, even if this is a lot. A lot to process. "Explain to me what you mean by.. totally fucked?" Someone stops by outside the window to his office and holds up what looks like a report. He glances over, shakes his head, expression stony. The officer seems to know well enough to retreat, and does so without delay.

Finch chews on her lower lip for a long moment, watching Ruiz with worry in her dark eyes. "Celaeno, the Harpy, probably one of the inspirations for the Greek Myth, is who the deal was made with. My mother messed it all up and she might consider us reneging on it. My Great Aunt believes she might make me go nuts early, and indiscriminately, to teach the family a lesson, making me kill people of other generations. Or Celaeno may decide to just wipe us all out herself"

She looks from Ruiz to Ignacio and back to Ruiz. "Starling is the only Curse enactor who didn't commit suicide by cop after the deed. She's in Western State Hospital, in the area for the criminally insane. I think she held on to warn us, or warn me. I think she wants to get us out of this stupid deal, and I think maybe she had a vision that my mother would mess it up." She shakes her head and looks down at her hands.

"If something Over There gets control of me, I could do terrible things, Captain. I have the Gift."

Ignacio fills in, conversationally. Calm means it's fine, it's manageable right? "Celano es una arpía. En la antiguedad, los hombres de la familia de Celano le hicieron mal a la dama. Ha sido una venganza desde entonces." Filling in the short note that she was wronged and eeeeeeh he can't really blame her. It's a bit much now though. " He falls quiet and watches Finch fill in the rest of the details in teh 'fuckometer'. "Eeeeh yeah I'm not a fan of you losing free will. I guess or dying but, ya know we'd like history to maybe no repeat itself."

Ruiz runs his tonguetip along his teeth thoughtfully, still clearly trying to take all of this in. "Sí," he murmurs finally to Ignacio, turning to peruse the writer with those dark, intent eyes. "Venganza por los pecados de los padres. Y dices que yo también estoy en peligro. Veo." He glances down at his hands, then back up to Finch. "And you? Are you in danger, too?" His expression twists slightly at the suicide by cop remark, but he doesn't ask for clarification. And, "Yes. I can see that you do." Have the gift.

"Probably," Finch admits to Ruiz. She reaches for Ignacio's hand again, needing him to anchor her. "But we're hoping to fix it before it comes to that. We're doing research now, but we're going to try to go over there, with other friends," she pauses, "family, I consider them family. And we're going to try and either change the terms of the deal, or get rid of the Harpy. Not sure the latter is even possible. I mean this myth has been around since Ancient Greece."

Ignacio boundes a small nod looking up to teh Captin. See they are talking and de la Vega didn't break his remaining good leg yet! It's fine. we're all fine. "Si las cosas continúan como están? Tu y yo ambos. Sin embargo, es por ella que me preocupa." That he might be running translation for Finch upstairs? Well that's very likely, or maybe it stands to trust they're just on the same page with a lot of trust there.

His hand falls open to catch hers, fingers between and a squeeze given. Now it's English and since the Capitan hasn't flipped out he pauses explaining, "One theory is if we can show her the situation has changed or see if reparations can be made we'd like to. The rest um..." His knuckles go a little shite around her hand and pauses, "We respect this is a lot for you too. And... sorry for...earlier." Dark eyes look back to Finch. She okay? He falls silent to let them fill in teh gaps there

The cop's English is fluent enough, even if he speaks with a slight accent that he hasn't quite been able to shake over the years. Nevertheless, he doesn't seem bothered by the conversation diverting into Spanish at regular intervals. His lips twitch slightly at some of Ignacio's pronunciation, and perhaps a word or two he doesn't quite catch. "Your Spanish is very proper," he comments with a hint of amusement. His own accent is one hundred percent filthy street kid from Tijuana. Then to Finch, "So you want my help, I assume." A twinge of something. Hurt? It's too brief to read. He digs a notepad out of a desk drawer, along with a pen, and starts writing. "Western State Hospital, you said?"

Finch blinks at him a few times. "What? No! I didn't come here to ask for your help. I came here to warn you so you wouldn't be blindsided if things go sideways and we fail." Now she's the one looking hurt. She knows there are people out there who only seek out family when they need something, but she's not that person.

She rises from the seat, grabbing a folded post it from her purse and tossing it on the desk. "I didn't come here to ask for help or money or a Quinceanera. I just came to let you know I'm your biological kid and make sure the Harpy doesn't eat you. What you do with the information, well that's up to you." Clearly she thinks he has no interest in her as a daughter. "We've taken up enough of your time, Captain. That's my number if you need something."

Ignacio snickers and says, "My family's from Toledo. I'm from New York." Odds are exception he does not mean Ohio. But that would also explain him sounding a bit more direct as well. There's a pause and he's happy to drop that when he asks about help which seems to confuse Ignacio too. He holds her hand fast though and there's something, something he's picking up, but he neither lets go of her hand or stands. He looks up to her and bids her, "Finch? Wait."

His hand goes out like he's going to say something, but he doesn't and instead curls it into a ball pressing it to his lips. shitshitshitshitshit Deep breath and says to the Captain, "Look, We don't... know your situation, or your background, or anything other than you have a very public political profile to maintan as an officaila nd really, we *respect * that. This family's been through a lot and in this small town you can imagine how cruel that is and add in when your own family hides from you-"

He looks to FInch with a heartfelt apologetic look, "Babe I'm sorry." It's admission from a place of love really. He looks back, "No one wants anything from you but maybe if you are okay with it? Your time, and maybe an opportunity to learn something about who she came from as a people? It would not be unappreciated but that's also something no one can demand of you ." Well the little shit can really speak in earnest. He pauses, "Sir." He still doesn't let go of Finch's hand to at least let the man answer. After the pause he watches Ruiz for a moment and the too perceptive 27 year old wiggles her hand, "And I know you're scared of someone else walking out, and it hurts and you want to know what ist is to actually have family, but this is weird. Just..." His head tilts pulling all that calm back Iggy-ward, "Please give him a chance here to answer. He's scared too. I dunno why. I need your trust on that." Yup way overstepped a line, but maybe that's why he's here because it sure as shit ain't jogging or being subtle.

When his question isn't answered, de la Vega sort of sits there, pen in hand, internally debating something. He watches Finch carefully, as if trying to memorise her features; as if this might be the last time he sees her, and he doesn't want to forget. Emotion, and plenty of it, simmers under the surface of his calm. Too calm, to the point of appearing stony and closed-off. He watches as she drops the post-it note on his desk, but doesn't reach for it.

Eventually, his pen is clicked off and tossed back into the drawer. The top sheet that he'd been jotting notes on is torn off, folded, and shoved into a pocket. "Thank you. For the warning." Pink hair. Pink hair. His jaw twitches, and there's plenty more he'd like to say here, but he doesn't. He doesn't say a word of it. "You've done your duty, and I'm capable of taking care of myself. You should-" He looks to Ignacio, frowns slightly at the volume of words coming out of his mouth, and waits for him to be done before continuing. "You should be careful, as well, Miss Celaeno. Pido disculpas porque su búsqueda lo haya llevado hasta aquí." He slumps into his chair, and scrapes the heel of his palm through his beard again.

Finch is stayed by Ignacio keeping hold of her hand, but her jaw is stubbornly clenched. It gets worse when Ignacio opens up all that baggage and lays it out right on Ruiz. All the things he knew she would never say for herself. All the things she would never admit. She's been alone for a long time, with only her Grandmother, the rest of her family literally fled to the far side of the country and overseas to try and keep a generation safe from what she might become.

She wants to run, just like she ran away to Cornell for school. But she always gets pulled back. Always. This fucking town. She closes her eyes a long moment. She feels like throwing up again, just like she did when she was 13, only this time, for an entirely different reason. She feels vulnerable and she loathes that feeling. Hates it so much it makes her want to burn down the world.

At his response, she gives Ruiz a stiff nod and tugs Ignacio's hand. Either he's coming with or she's shaking him off, because she is out the door.

Ignacio sits very still and looks to Finch. He gives her fingers a squeeze but lets them go and says to her quietly, disappointed, "I'll be right behind you." His eyes drift back to the closed off cop and he says quietly, "...gimme just a minute." So calm. He asks de la Vega, "Can I borrow a piece of paper. You gotta be buried in post-it pads around here." His eyes scan the desk , but he's not stood up."

It's hard to say how much of that baggage was actually processed by the man. He still seems to be in a state of shock about the whole thing, and the more information that's dumped on him, the less he's taking in. None of this, of course, may be outwardly apparent; to most, he simply looks perpetually annoyed. Thumb and forefinger pressed into his temples, he watches the top of his desk, then watches Finch. Burn down the world. Well, that they've got in common. Rage fuels every inch of the man. Rage for days.

He registers, dimly, the fact that Ignacio's talking to him again, and levels a hazy, unfocused look the younger man's way. After a minute, the notepad he'd been using is pushed over, and his watch checked. "I've got a meeting to run." He starts to his feet with a rustle of clothing and gear. "I'll escort you both out. And I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help."

Ignacio nods slowly and seems calm. But it's more than an address he leaves on the paper. It's a note that reads:

This is really hard on both of you,
She's strong, and brilliant, and caring,
and very scared right now.
Take time. Please reconsider.

Finch Celano
XXX-XXX-XXXX
1 Bayside Drive.

Ignacio de Santos
XXX-XXX-XXXX
If you have questions, or
want to grab a beer or something.

Sorry about your head.

He flips the notepad closed and hands it back to him. Any feelings he might have right now are getting buried and buried deep as this isn't about him in the slightest. "Thanks for the time." He turns and the right leg pulls the rest of him as he works with his injuries to make some even progress back out.