2019-11-08 - Aaaaaawkwaaaaaard!

The text James received from Diana earlier read, "Memento Mori. It's a book store. Heard of it? I'm omw, join me?" She at least didn't leave until follow-up questions were answered, but she seems to be a little spur of the moment today. It's a nice day, just warm enough to mean sweaters and coats are optional without rendering them obsolete. Diana's already at the bookstore, peering up at the top row of a bookcase and scanning the titles rather than watching the door. She already holds three or four books in her arms.

James had to do a bit of quick thinking, maybe closing down the pawn shop he's been watching and manning for his friends a little early, but this is the second time this adorable, fascinating woman has texted him out of the blue now and he's pretty sure that's a sign of the Apocalypse, so, if the world is ending, what does it matter if the shop is closed by noon, right? And in that case, he can think of far worse ways to spend the last few moments this world has to exist than browsing books beside Diana. He rushes towards Memento Mori- and then right past it. A few seconds pass and then he's coming back from the other direction, looking a little flustered. He stops at the door a few moments to catch his breath before he lets himself inside, and... stops. Eyes go wide as he just looks around the place. So. Many. BOOKS. And the look of it! With the dim lighting and the haphazard organization and the lack of space and that book smell and a beautiful woman carrying books! "... perfect.", he murmurs to himself, then blinks a few times as he realizes he's been standing there for the better part of a minute. "Hey you.", he calls towards Diana, in a lightly hushed voice, because when you're surrounded by books you just tend to instinctively speak softer, don't you?

You very much do. And so Diana does as well, beaming over at him and waving her free hand before whispering, "Hey! I thought I could use some retail therapy in the form of lots and lots of books. I was running out of unread books, and that*is a travesty." She pauses, then finally thinks to ask, this time in a louder but still hushed voice rather than a whisper, "How was your day? I didn't ask you on the text. Did they find your friend's girlfriend yet?" She pauses again, and then leans in to impulsively peck him on the cheek, whereupon she just so happens to find herself *needing to look up at the top shelf of books again, cheeks reddening.

"Oh it was fine, not a lot of early morning pawn shoppers around here I guess, so I was mostly just goofing around on my phone to distract myself from all that stuff, and anyway, yeah, no, they haven't found her yet but Byron didn't sound too worried last time we spoke so I'm not worrying either, yet, and-", James starts to chatter on about until all of a sudden he gets struck by lightning- or the equivalent, anyway, as his words just full stop, mouth half-frozen mid-word. What just happened? He blinks, once, then twice, then sort of... looks around, as if trying to figure out where he is, his expression confused. "I. Uh." He swallows. "H-how was, uhm, yours?", he finally manages to get out, voice almost cracking, as he takes a step closer to be right beside her, while looking anywhere but at her.

Diana clears her throat softly, still looking up at the list of titles. "I'm glad neither of you are worried. That bodes well, right? Surely, if you were worried, it would be because you'd have a reason to think this was unusual enough to be worrisome. I mean... so it seems to me, anyway. You were at the pawn shop?" She glances over at him, surprise getting her over her embarrassment, and asks, "I'm glad you were able to make it, then. And, um. Belatedly, my day was pretty okay. I was getting nowhere on some research, so... retail therapy! And now you're all caught up!" She smiles.

James rubs the back of his head, smiling sheepishly. "Yeah, I'm kind of in charge of the place while she's out. Y'know, as a favor. I used to work as a bartender back in New York, so, it's basically the same thing." He looks over at her, curious now, though he does stutter a bit when he meets her eyes. "W-what was the, uhm, research about? I could help." He clears his throat, looking over at the books in front of him as if they were suddenly fascinating. "I mean, if you wanted."

"You were a bartender? That's neat. I'm... not great at mixing drinks. I figure it's the same esoteric art as baking, at which I am also rubbish." Diana smiles warmly at him, tilting her head at his question. "Well, I heard a rumor from a dockworker that there's a ghost that haunts the docks. Supposed to have been burnt in a fire at the docks, even. So close to water, burning too quickly. Something like that-- he was pretty vague. Anyway, I looked through years upon years of newspapers and microfiche, and-- well. There was no fire at the docks, therefore there is no fire ghost. Or it was covered up. But honestly, an anecdotal fire ghost on the docks being made up is more likely, given givens. It was pretty much a dead lead." She shrugs. "I was frustrated, and so I required novels to sustain my good cheer." She grins. "I appreciate the offer to help, though." A pause, and then, "Though there's a lot of other stuff I'm researching, that you could definitely help me with, if you're still willing?" She leans into his space. Casually and almost accidentally.

The shop is full of narrow pathways made by the haphazard shelves which, combined with the low lighting and the ambiance of books and antiques, makes it... really the perfect place for Gina to enjoy. So here she is, having been quietly browsing the shelves, footsteps surprisingly light considering her boots, her purple hair hidden by the black hood of her black peacoat. She's spotted James, the familiar figure, from glances across the shelves. She can hear them, on the other side of the shelves, even as she walke d to the end of the aisle, slipped quietly through to the aisle on their other side, and walked back again - to where they are closest to teh aisle entrance. Smiling to herself, as they're distracted. And so it's only a few quiet steps, a few light steps, her hands in the pockets of her peacoats, and she's right between the two, just behind them, commenting in a deadpan voice. "But James, I really thought we had something special. All those late night chats together, the tears, the stories of how you grew up."

James smiles back at Diana as she mentions being no good at mixing drinks. "Oh, you've got to let me mix you a few drinks, I was actually pretty good at it.", he says, which must mean either he's excellent at it, or utterly terrible, no in between. When she starts talking about the fire at the docks she was researching, though, his smile fades a bit, his gaze going distant as she goes into more detail. He clears his throat, blinking a few times as if he'd gotten something in his eye. "Ahem. I. Uh. That's not the only case of weird fires. Y'see, my parents-", he begins to say, and then, as if summoned by the topic of people being consumed by hellfire, a dark vision arises behind them, a diabolical presence with flames that chill the blood. James freezes, his instinctive reaction because somewhere deep in his lizard brain he still believes predators only attack when they see motion. "... oh, how delightful. Look who it is.", he deadpans right back, then sighs.

Diana frowns as she realizes he's not looking so emotionally great right now, and nods her head to show she's listening as he starts to talk about his parents. And then-- she actually does jump at someone speaking from so CLOSE to them. She swallows thickly, and honestly doesn't seem to have caught half of what Gina had to say. Still, she glances between them curiously at their greetings to one another. There's only one move here, or so her straight posture and determined look seem to indicate: she extends a hand in Gina's direction, smiling. "Hi. I'm Diana. It's a pleasure to meet you." For all the world, it's hard to tell if she means it or is just being polite.

Gina doesn't immediately take Diana's hand. No, she looks her over, top to bottom, before looking at James. "She's cuuuuuuute, Becker. You tell her you're a writer searching for inspiration yet?" Gina asks, smiling that slight little smile of hers. "Or are you saving that for later? Probably after you tell her about your parents. Hey." Now she looks towards Diana. Doesn't take her hand yet. "Gina. Local. Don't really like bullshit unless you're burying people in it." Gina's tone is, as usual, ever so ambiguous. Is she joking? Teasing? Being sarcastic? Mocking? Her tone can lean in any direction. "You should definitely ask James for help. He's aaaaaaalll about digging into things and clearing them out."

"No, trust me, it's not.", James mutters right after Diana says what a pleasure it is to meet Gina. "Actually, I was kind of saving that one up for none of your freaking business. Anyway, the book you're looking for is over there-", he says, waving a hand towards the furthest corner of the store from them. "- in the Mythology section." A beat. "Look under H. For Harpy."

Diana drops her hand without comment, listening to what Gina says-- also without immediate comment. She looks over at James when he says 'it's not' and shoots him a sympathetic smile, before looking back to Gina. She lets James speak rather than speaking herself, and the 'H. For Harpy' comment has her pursing her lips to try and hide a VERY amused smile. "You two are friends then?" she asks oh so pleasantly, though she doesn't look to James this time; this time, she has eyes only for Gina. She doesn't comment, beyond that single question.

Gina pushes her hood back, showing her purple hair and and done-up smoky eye with gold tints, "Becker, you sweet-talker. Me? Divine retribution? Can't even eat, you're so overtaken by me? A little much, though." Again that slight little smile, before she looks towards Diana. "Nope. Not friends. Unrequited love. Every time I try to get close, he cuts me down." Gina's tone is casual, with a little shrug-- is it deadpan? Resigned? Damnit Gina! "But I know he cares, deep down," Gina puts a hand over her heart, drumming her fingers, "See how he wants me to get away while he flirts? Always so considerate."

"Unreq- WHAT.", James protests, and points a finger up at Gina. "You-", he says, then can't seem to find the words. He looks to Diana, while still pointing at Gina. "She-", he says, and again, wordless. And then he drops the finger, and sighs, and hangs his head. "Diana, meet Gina. Gina works at the Grizzly. It's bear-themed." He pauses, giving Gina a moment of side-eye. "... and other apex predators.", he adds. "They make amazing burgers. The mental abuse and psychic scars, she just tosses in for free. And Gina, this is Diana. She is a fellow writer, and she is awesome, which makes her spending time with me pretty inexplicable, I know, but I figure it's a mystery worth investigating."

Is that far corner really the mythology section? Somehow that seems like one of the worst ones to hear an unexpected noise from. Especially in this town. On the other hand, the noise isn't so much an eldritch groan or an ominous rumble as a just-audible yelp of "Shit!" and a muttered series of "Nononono" that coincides with a sort of growing slippery-slidy noise and then a solid thump, several smaller ones, and a pained, almost accusing, "...ow."

Diana outright stares at Gina, watching her with a blank look on her face that's neither rude nor pleasant. She listens closely to James' reaction, eyes still on Gina-- at least until that bit about it being an inexplicable mystery. Her expression softens about thirty notches, and she allows a half-smile to lift to her lips. "It's not a mystery, but I'll help you figure it out later." Her gaze shifts to Gina, then to James, and back to Gina. She no longer looks expressionless, seeming far more thoughtful than before as she eyes the other woman. "I'm sorry you're--" she starts to say, in what seems to be a kind tone, but-- then there's the sound of 'shit' and multiple thumps, so maybe the world will never know what she'd intended. She turns toward the sound and heads for it immediately, leaving behind poor James and Gina both. "You okay back there?" she asks, searching through the stacks in the general vicinity of where she heard the commotion.

Gina just stands there as the accusations flow, looking at James and smiling. It's not a small one, but a full smile. And, angling her head JUST so, she winks the eye Diana won't see towards James. Because really, he's so cute when he stutters. "Always with the compliments, James." Gina says, shaking her head-- and about to open her mouth, but then there is Aidan, and Gina looks over. And then looks away, even as the ow happens, pulling out her phone to check it -- and clearly not about to go help. "Don't worry, Becker. I know how you feel. My fault for always falling for the wrong kind of guy. You two can nerd over books or whatever. "

James gets that 'someone walked over my grave' chill down his spine as Gina winks at him. glances over in the direction of the book avalanche, and blinks. "Oh, hey, look Gina. Misfortune. I think you're supposed to go over there and caw." But then Diana's running off to help, because she really is the best of them, isn't she? "It's Hecker, and you well know it.", he mutters, before carefully sidling around Gina without making any kind of contact, because many poisons can kill with a touch, even if doing so is a bit difficult in the narrow confines of the bookshop. He does, though, eventually escape and head over to join Diana and make sure no one hurt the books- err, got hurt by the books. "Hey, you ok?"

"Um. Yeah," comes the voice from back there, which when Diana turns the corner to that last shelf proves to belong to a tall skinny dude currently doing an impression of a long skinny dude by means of being sprawled on the ground beneath and between a small scattering of books. There's one of those little stools that only give people like six inches extra reach so why are they even there, tipped over on its side by the shelving, and he's giving it a sharp glare, though it turns into a sheepish grin toward Diana when she enters his field of vision. "Yeah, thanks. ...Sorry." He carefully picks up the books that actually ended up on him and sets them in a more or less neat pile to one side, starting to sit up.

He's wearing bright red jeans, a slightly too tight and definitely old yellow happy face t-shirt, and an unbuttoned bright purple shirt covered in a pink-orange-yellow paisley. Also flip flops, which might be part of the problem here. Well, it's arguably a problem regardless, but let's focus on the present. "I think that stool wants me dead though."

"Nothing to apologize for," he's assured by Diana. "Stools are notorious plotters, it's true. Always scheming and planning. I don't trust them, truth be told." And she gives a theatrical suspicious look to the stool in question. She grins as James comes up beside her. "Looks like more of an oopsy-daisy than a call to the ER," she assures James next, reaching out to offer a hand to Aidan. She, for the record, is wearing high-waisted pants, leggings with some kind of colorful print on them, barely seen around the ankles, and a sweater in the true 'ugly Christmas' style, only featuring the Mogwai and Gremlins: https://i0.wp.com/www.girlsongames.ca/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/Gremlins_Sweater_1024x1024.jpg

"Words hurt, Fletcher." Gina comments after that crack about her cawing. As he sidles by, she doesn't move, perfectly all right with casually checking her phone while James remains a drama queen. As soon as he's past, however, she turns on a heel and follows. Just to his side, possibly a little closer than he'd like. She does put a step of distance between them when they're in front of the splayed Aidan, however. "Oh, hey. The boy in ashes." Gina says, when she notices who exactly it is. "You cool?" Not that Gina particularly sounds like she cares-- what is she texting? Who knows. "Funny, considering."

James is in his traditional black hoodie, battered jeans and sneakers, and, as a concession to the growing chill outside, a jean jacket in true 90's style. He refuses to look behind him as he walks and Gina follows just that one smidge too close- we are all followed by the spectre of death every day of our lives, why should today be any different? He smiles as Diana reassures him, and while she's helping Aidan get up, James goes to help the true victims here: those fallen books. "Just glad you're ok.", he says. Presumably to Aidan.

Aidan blinks once as Diana gets into better view, and the sheepish grin turns into a proper one as he accepts the offered hand. "That sweater is awesome," he informs her, with complete sincerity, "and yeah, that's probably wise. It was sitting there all innocent like hey, go on, I'll make it way easier to reach that one book, but really it's just waiting for the chance to put another notch on its... stoolpost? Wait, I think that'd be a leg." There's a semi-antique-looking armchair back here, with a small table beside it, and a short stack of books on that; on the chair itself is a short yellowish faux-fur coat in particularly unconvincing leopard print. "Thanks," he says to Diana again, and adds, "And thanks," to James as he starts helping the guy clean up Aidan's own mess.

Gina's greeting distracts him for a moment, briefly looking confused, which he does pretty well, head cocked like a perplexed puppy. Then whatever she's saying seems to filter in. If the first reply isn't a non sequitur, though, they may secretly be spies. "Those cricket cookies are way better with frosting." He reaches up to slide a book where he's pretty sure it came from. "And of course I'm cool. You could, like. Store microwave waffles in me. Aside from the usual way."

Diana looks down at her sweater, like she can't quite remember what she's even wearing today. But she brightens when she sees it, confiding, "This is one of my favorites." She then grins as he talks about the stool, before adopting a serious look. "Leg, stoolpost, who dares catalogue the anatomy of the murderous stool? I ask you." She lets his hand go when he's properly standing, and smiles fondly as she sees the mess-cleaning-up on James' part. She looks between Aidan and Gina thoughtfully before asking, "You two know each other, then?" To Aidan, she adds, "I'm Diana, by the by. Nice to meet you."

"Did some extra testing. The flour's even better in chocolate coffee banana bread." Gina nods to Aidan as he rises. She didn't laugh at Diana's teasing regarding the stool, either. Not even so much as a smile. Just a glance in her direction before she turned her attention on Aidan and answered him. She does look back to her at the question, however, giving a careless shrug. "He's the Kinney boy. He almost became a school legend in our grade." She... explains??? to Diana, before looking back at Aidan. "You ever hook up with that girl you were with? You two seemed close."

"No worries, man. I know what it is to be clumsy, oh yes, I do.", James quips back and over at Aidan, giving the dude a quick smile before he turns back to putting away more books. He doesn't really look where he's putting them, just wherever they might fit, but that seems to be this store's typical method of shelving anyway, so it's likely fine. He studiously attempts to ignore whatever Gina is saying- though the bit about a school legend does catch his ear. He looks up and over at Diana curiously, then moves to join over at her side once he finishes putting away the books. He doesn't want to ask. But he does. But he won't.

Aidan doesn't laugh at the remarks on the stool either, though he does grin at them before attempting with iffy success to also look serious as he nods. "Only the bravest of stool-- ologists." He sticks another couple books back in place. "Okay, I kinda want to try that bread now. Also? I made a whiskey milkshake and it was pretty great." At the mention of legendhood, he looks to the other two and adds, "Only almost, though." Because this is important to know. He gets around to brushing off his pants once the books away away, glancing to Gina again. "Baylee? Yeah, we've been going out for like... I guess five months now. Huh." This seems to have suddenly occurred to him. Looking back to the others, "...anyway, hi, I'm Aidan. Kinney, like she said." If James grew up here, he may just vaguely recall the Kinney house burning down when he was, oh, 8ish maybe? "Nice meeting you, Diana. Hey, our names have the same letters, that's cool." For certain values of cool! "Unless you, like, spell it with a Y or something."

Diana watches the interaction between Gina and Aidan interestedly, but doesn't move to interrupt or ask any questions... yet. She tilts her head at James' curious look, but doesn't voice her confusion over what it's about. Instead, she idly leans into James' space without a word or another glance, and then says to Aidan, "Okay, that's awesome. So you spell it... A-D- no wait. A-I-D-A-N, then? Mine's spelled 'D-Y-A-E-N-N-U-H.' But close!" She grins, clearly joking about the spelling. ...or is she? "So how did you almost become a legend, and what stopped your meteoric rise to hero-dom? Also, nice to meet you."

"Not on the menu. But I'll message you next time she makes some." How... did Gina get his phone number? DOES she have his number? Or is she just messing with him, with that small teeny little smile in place that manages to be both polite, mocking, or friendly all at once? Stupid ambiguity! "Knew you two would end up boning sooner rather than later. Your funeral." Ahh, Gina, the romantic. Then her eyes glance sidelong towards Diana, "Oh, he wasn't a hero." Gina clarifies. Or muddies the water. She doesn't explain much after that, just tucks her phone away and notes, "That'd be spoiling. Anyway. I'm going to go check if the self-help books I ordered are here already. Gonna be a crappy life coach if I don't read up." She says this so casually, with SUCH a straight face! Humor gets no drier than Gina and her crew.

James blushes faintly as he notices Diana leaning in a little closer into his personal space, but he seems happy enough about this bizarre development. He tilts his head as Aidan mentions his name, and with Gina's penchant for reciting the woes of the past, it sort of clicks for him a little. "Oh, wait, I remember, I think. Your house burnt down, yeah? That's rough." And then Diana is butchering the spelling of her own name, and he chuckles softly. "James Hecker. Spelled like it sounds." And then Gina's talking about being a life coach, and the mere thought of that is enough to short out James' brain for a few moments, not letting him properly savor the realization that Gina is talking about being elsewhere. Elsewhere! That's where he likes Ginas to be!

Does Gina have Aidan's number? Did he give it to her? Does he have the slightest idea? Does it even strike him as something to worry about? Questions for the ages! Well, the last one gets a likely answer by inference, since his reply to idea that she'll let him know that way about the banana bread just gets a cheerful "'kay!" The potentially fatal nature of his boning proclivities gets an easy enough little shrug, and, "She's pretty awesome, though."

The further remarks on his history from various corners do dim the mood a little, even if it also gets a reprise of the shrug. Not precisely the same kind. "Yeah, basically. I was three. She says the kids in her year had stories like how I was a feral kid and living in people's basements and stuff, I think, or that I was dead, or started it." It's matter-of-fact, but possibly not his very favourite topic. Diana's spelling is a better one! "I kinda wanna claim I spell it A-Y-D, uh, et cetera, except I already forgot how you spelled it so that's not going to work. But yeah, nice meeting you." Which they already both said. But at least he can repurpose it by adding, "And you," to James, "So not like, J-a-y-m-z, huh?" Gina gets a hand lift and curious look in farewell, as if he might be pondering whether she really is taking up life coaching.

Diana tilts her head at 'wasn't a hero,' glancing to see Aidan's reaction to the words. "May your books be in and your step be light," she says with a vague, grand gesture to Gina, and then turns to look between James and Aidan as they talk. Aidan in particular, as he talks about The Past, and she nods her head sympathetically. "I'm sorry. Wouldn't have asked if I'd known it was tied to unpleasant memories. My apologies." They seem sincere, and she frowns softly before saying simply, "Feel free to change the topic or stay on it, whichever suits you better." She gives a small smile.

Gina's turning, walking away slowly-- ignoring Diana's grand farewell, but stopping at the talk of unpleasant memories, and looks over her shoulder. "You take a risk every time you ask a native about their pasts here, Fresh Pages. Gray Harbor hasn't been too lucky the past few years." Gina says this with...amusement? Warning? Lightness in her tone. "Not as bright and pretty here as it is in Roswell or Centralia." What makes her bring up /those/ cities...? "Drop by the diner sometime. I'll have my cards. Or better yet, go see the woman on the boardwalk. She's better than I am. Consider this me being nice, for Hucker's sake." A casual shrug, and she's off to find the front to pay, navigating the aisles like they aren't a maze. Well, she is a local.

"Hecker!", James calls after Gina, and then sighs and shakes his head. "Sorry, I should have warned you I know Satan herself personally.", he mutters at Diana, then looks over to Aidan, with a half-smile. "Nah. Just plain 'ol boring J-A-M-E-S. And, yeah, likewise. I mean, much as I hate to say it, Gina was right- poke a local's past enough, and something nasty will pop up to greet you, pretty much without fail."

"J-A-M-E-S isn't bad though. Even if I don't think you can spell anything else from it. Like. Sajem? I'm pretty sure that isn't a name. Cool beard though." Aidan's own is trimmed pretty short right now, but clearly he is in a position to know a good beard when he sees one. A glance after Gina, then back to Diana, "...I mean, on the other hand, it's kinda hard not to ever talk about people's pasts either, so..." He shrugs. "Stuff's probably gonna come up. Are you from Roswell? I went through there a couple years back, it was interesting."

Diana turns to look at Gina as she starts talking about locals and their pasts, and she does give a nod of understanding; even James admits Gina's right on that one. And then there's that mention of Roswell, and she tilts her head. It's not until the mention of Centralia that she blinks-- twice-- and just stares after Gina, watching as she navigates the maze so well. Eventually she finds her voice enough to say, "I'll pay you a visit." She's frowning, just a little. Still, she turns back to Aidan and James then, and though her frown is still there, it does lessen a bit at James' mutter, and as she looks between the two men. "...Maybe majes? You know, like, 'majes cast a spell that made mages spelled like majes.'" It makes less sense verbally, though. "I'm not from Roswell, no," she says, shaking her head. "Did travel through there, though. Wrote about it. Centralia, too." The frown deepens a little. "I'm from Indianapolis," she concludes. "But I often travel a lot. Traveled? I'm not sure." A pause, and then she says to Aidan, "Roswell is a good place. A lot to see. A lot to check out."

"Never been there myself... but I kinda have all the weird I can handle already in this cursed little town.", James says, as they talk about Roswell. He does notice Diana's little frown, and he instinctively moves a little closer to her, watching her to make sure she's ok. "Hey, though, road trip sometime, maybe? Too much time in this town isn't good for one's health."

"I only kinda got to check it out, I was working with this theatre group at the time," Aidan says, "but yeah, it seemed pretty cool. What'd you write about it?" He moves toward that little table, picking up the small stack of books there and looking over them thoughtfully. "Road trips are good shit, anyway. You should definitely do that." He considers a moment. "I should do that, maybe."

"Roswell's weird. I'm not sure it's THIS weird, but it's definitely weird. That said, if you've seen one weird, you have definitely not 'seen them all.' A road trip does sound fun, admittedly." Diana taps her chin thoughtfully, but gets distracted looking at the books Aidan's gathering up and possibly sizing them up. Hard to say! "Oh, and I wrote about places like Roswell and the like in a book about haunted places," she says, not using this opportunity to hawk her book at the very first chance. She'll never make it big at this rate!

"And I'm helping her with research for one on Gray Harbor!", James adds, smiling widely. "I mean we've just barely gotten started on it, but... it should make for pretty good reading once it's finished."

Aidan's brows lift a bit. "Oh, yeah? That sounds cool. 'cause yeah, the weird here is definitely pretty weird. Like, there's these tunnels in Portland? They're weird too, but like..." Not THIS weird, no. "There's gotta be a lot of haunted places to write about. How're you guys researching 'em? Like, do you go there and see if they'll talk to you or? ...and do you know anything about making ghosts, like, leave?" No reason.

Diana smiles broadly over at James, her earlier frowns forgotten, and tells Aidan, "It depends on the site, really. Often, it starts with rumors. Someone says there was a fire in 1802 or something, and it was set by, I dunno, a jealous husband after hacking his wife to pieces. Their ghosts haunt the area to this day, et cetera. Then the research starts. Some ghost stories are just that-- stories, told by people for whatever gain, even if the gain is only 'having a cool story to tell.' But I start looking back at historical records. Newspapers on microfiche, journals of the day-- that kind of thing. Determine, first of all, if there even was a fire in 1802. But sometimes they've got the year wrong, sometimes even the decade or more, so I look at more than just that year. And I try to get public records on the information as well. Once I can confirm -- or at least not 'deny'-- that the precipitating event may've happened, I do go to the location, and... yeah." She shrugs. "As for making ghosts leave, I'm afraid not. But I could look into it, of course!"

James catches that smile from Diana, and blushes faintly, looking down shyly for a moment. But when she starts going on about her research methods, he listens curiously, nodding here and there. "Yeah, sorry, a lot of this is kinda new to me, so... I don't know. But I'll gladly look into it? I mean, there might not be a generic method, maybe it's specific to each ghost, y'know?"

"It'd be a good thing to know," Aidan says, "'cause some ghosts are kinda assholes. I mean, I guess I maybe would be too if I was dead and didn't have anything better to do? But on the other hand I could go, I dunno, watch movies or something, it's not like I'd have to buy a ticket, right?" He briefly considers one of the books he's holding, then puts it back on the shelf for now, looking slightly reluctant about it. "Have you seen any of the ghosts?" It's clearly to both of them, even if James HAS just labeled himself new.

"Ooh, that's a good point!" Diana nods her head rapidly to the theory about ghost-specific methods of removal. "Worth looking into, for sure. In fact..." She pauses, withdrawing a small notebook from her pocket. After jotting down something presumably related, she slips it back into her pocket. "There. New angle to explore." She pauses at Aidan's question, and then merely answers with a nod to the affirmative. "...you?" she wonders in return. And then very lightly elbows James. "And you, of course."

Aidan hesitates, then nods as well. Because he definitely hadn't more or less given that away already or anything. "But people kinda act like you're nuts if you tell them that, usually. I mean, okay, they act like you're nuts for a lot of things, but like..." He pauses, wary for a moment as he looks at Diana, while James steps away to take a phone call. It's a closer kind of study, as though he's looking for something. "You haven't been here real long, right? Have you kinda... seen anything weird that isn't ghosts here, yet?"

Diana nods back to him before looking to James-- who gets lucky enough not to need to answer! She waves to him fondly as he heads off, and then looks back to Aidan. While he's studying her, well, she gets in a little study of her own. "I haven't been here very long yet, no. I--" She quiets, then frowns. "I haven't seen a lot, yet. Here." A long pause follows. "But I'm not going to call you crazy, I can tell you that much. No matter the story."

Aidan considers that, then nods. "You will," he says, which definitely has a note of warning in it, but not so much as to qualify as ominous. "If you stay long, anyway. Just... weird shit happens. And like..." He glances over his shoulder, for no obvious reason, then back to her. Quietly, "There's this ghost that haunts me. Like, it has all my life. He's kinda stronger here, though. I dunno who he is or why me 'cause he won't say, but. Yeah. So if you figure out how to make 'em leave? I'd kinda like to know."

Diana nods her head, not even having the good grace to look remotely surprised. "I've seen things other places, and... this place. Well, like I said. It's deeper." She leans in to listen to the talk about the ghost, and she nods again, more firmly this time. "Of course. I'll do what I can. I study this stuff. It's-- it's what I chose to do. Once I saw ... you know. Things. And stuff." She tilts her head, then reaches into her pocket for her notepad again, jotting down something and then ripping out a page, offering it over to him. It has Diana Wilkerson, and then her phone number, presumably. "We should keep in contact. And... I really hope a solution is found for you. Can you... describe what you see? Or anything at all you've noticed about you know who?"

"He's a dick." This is perhaps not terribly useful, but it's a salient point. Aidan accepts the paper he's given, and juggles things a bit so that he can set the paper on the books, then his phone as well, and transfer the information into it. "He throws things at me a lot, likes to knock things off counters and stuff. Says mean shit. He laughs when people hurt me. Though at least that happens less than it used to." A half-smile, a touch wicked and faintly self-satisfied as well, "He used to laugh when I got laid, too, but I think he finally got bored with that. I mean, seriously, he's an asshole. And all he'd ever say when I used to ask was that I knew why, which I don't, and that blood would tell. Which, I was adopted, I don't even know what my blood is." A pause. "I mean, I know it's red stuff in my veins keeping me alive with cells and stuff, obviously, but like. I don't think that's what he means."

"He sounds like an asshole," Diana agrees, and tilts her head as she listens to the rest of it. She winces at the pairing of 'blood will tell' and 'adoption,' shaking her head. "That sounds like a rough one," she says with a frown. "Please excuse me if this sounds like an obvious way to look into it, but I don't suppose there's any way to trace the records from before you were adopted? I don't know a lot about how ghosts operate, but at least in stories, it seems like maybe it could be a curse on your birth bloodline? Or something?" She pauses. "But I will look into this, one way or another. I can't promise to find an answer-- science and research don't really work that way. But I can promise to try."

Aidan gives Diana a small, helpless shrug. "That's kinda why I came back here, to figure out who they were? Only I don't really know how you do that. My birth certificate has the Kinneys on it so I can't just go by that. Mr. Clayton was gonna help get the information out of the hospital but I dunno if anything ever happened with that, I haven't run into him in a while. If you see him you could ask him, maybe? Also he knows a lot about this place, but, he said he's never seen a ghost so he might not be that good a source for you specifically, I guess." He pauses, hitting a button on the phone to send a text to the number she gave -- now she has his, too! "And, thanks."

"Of course. And that's a good start. ...who's Mr. Clayton? I'll certainly talk to him if I run into him, for sure." Diana smiles as her phone buzzes in her pocket, presumably with the text he just sent, but she doesn't pull it out just yet. She then cants her head to the side, thinking for a moment before saying, "Yeah, I'm not certain how to get information like that without being you, or a Hollywood-style hacker. Unfortunately-- or fortunately, depending on perspective, I'm neither."

"It's probably good you're not me, 'cause then who would I be?" Aidan says, tilting his head slightly as he considers her, "Also, you wouldn't fit most of my clothes." He's got over half a foot on her, after all. "I am me though, and it doesn't really help 'cause I don't know what to do. And Mr. Clayton's first name's Alexander, he's like... forty maybe? And he investigates things. Like, when I met him, some dude had hired him to check out this chick the guy thought was part of the Illuminati and-- stealing songs through his dick? Before he could write them." A beat. "But he figured out she was just a normal kind of thief. A lot of people around here seem to think he's crazy, but I'm pretty sure he's not."

"You'd be me, clearly. I mean, there still needs to be a 'me,' of course." Diana pauses, frowning thoughtfully. "You might look into laws about adoption and children of adoption's rights as far as learning about their birth parents. If nothing else, you can claim you need to to know for medical reasons, I'd think. And once you know that, you'll know if the route to finding out will be straight and obvious, or... a more winding path with potential detours." She smiles faintly. "For what it's worth, he doesn't sound crazy to me. Not that I know all that much about him."

"Well, on the upside I'd have that sweater," Aidan muses, and gestures with his free hand in the direction James and his phone slipped of, "and I guess he is kinda cute. Though I mean. If you being me means I'd be you how do we know that didn't actually happen and we're already each other?" Deep thoughts, by Aidan Kinney. "That's probably what I should do, though. Start trying to poke at laws and stuff, I mean, not be you." His phone, still resting on the books, buzzes, and he glances down at it, making a face. "Crap. I gotta go," he says, adjusting things again so he can quiet it and shove it back in his pocket, then moving to pick up the jacket lying on the chair. "But you have my number so maybe we can talk more later, right? Like, you can send me a text." He gives her a bright grin, then turns and heads for the counter with his remaining books, pulling on the coat as he goes. As he turns the corner he glances back to advise her, "Careful of the stools!" and then he's gone.