2019-11-19 - Aliens Among Us

True to his word, Ciprian had called Beth to hang out, and they had decided to meet downtown. There's plenty to see and do, and even though they're both locals, it's still a nice place to walk around, provided it's not raining. Luckily, on this rare occasion it is not. Ciprian is waiting in front of Likely Stories, and it looks like he might have come early to buy himself a book or two, considering he's holding a bag from that same establishment in his hands as well.

Beth is not wearing one of her almost overly conservative suits for once. She is dressed in a sweater dress over a pair of leggings and suede boots. A belted peacoat tops this. Her hair is down and curled at the ends. Behind her glasses she is wearing winged eyeliner. It's a departure from what she usually dresses like for work. She spots Ciprian and heads in his direction. A glance is given to his bag and she asks with a little grin, "Whatcha reading for?"

Ciprian is looking more or less how he always looks -- though maybe a little bit less formal. He's lost the tie and suit jacket, and his shirt isn't buttoned up to the collar under his warmer outer coat like it would be usually. It may be that he doesn't have that much less formal than what he generally wears, though. At least it suits him.

Haha.

He's looking up and down the street absently as he waits, and on one of those turns of his head, he sees her. "Hi," he says, a little smile settling onto his face. "I've been meaning to read Michelle Obama's book for months and I've only now gotten around to it. You look great."

"Now I feel real outpaced. I don't think I've read a book all the way through in years." Beth admits with maybe a little bit of shame, but it's a light shame so it's fine. She smiles when he says that she looks great. "I look like I don't work where I work you mean." She glances down briefly before her eyes flick upwards slightly to look up at him. She takes a leisurely step down the street so they can stroll and talk. "Can I ask you something?"

"I've had to consciously set aside time for reading," Ciprian admits. "Otherwise I'm just scrolling through my phone and clicking open new tabs for articles that I only read halfway through." He starts to walk when she does, too, and continues, "Maybe. I didn't mean to imply you don't always look great, by the way." But his tone is teasing. It shifts into a more curious look when she goes on, though, and he adds, "Of course. Go for it."

"You mean the only reading you do isn't manufactured drama on reddit?" Beth asks with a gasp as if she's guilty of that very thing. "Although clickbait articles of stories stolen from ask reddit are almost as good." She gives him an askance look from over her glasses before she says just as teasingly, "I mean if you're into the mortician slash republican congesswoman look I'll totally do it all the time. I mean what are friends for if not fulfilling our strange desires am I right?" She laughs a little before she asks a little more seriously, "Do you ever notice there is something....different? About some people I mean."

"I look at reddit like the Enchanted Forest of the internet," Ciprian opines as they walk. "There's some cool stuff there, but for goodness sake stay on the path or you'll get eaten by a troll." He looks over at her appraisingly, continuing, "I mean, I don't hate the look by any means." His smile widens a little bit, though it fades when she goes on. Not like he's upset, just into a more thoughtful look.

"Yes," he says after a few seconds' consideration. "I've noticed that before." A beat; then: "Why?"

"Oh goodie. I'll even throw in a few 'I can see Russia from my house, donchaknow' for you." It may be mild flirting on Beth's part, but she doesn't press it, and she seems more interested in his response to her question. "You just seem like one of those sorts. That's all." She gives him a little shrug and says, "But I don't want to pry. I know it's a very private thing, and it's hard to talk about."

"If I ever find out you've got a moose head mounted on your wall, I'm going to have to lose your number. I'm sorry." Ciprian says it as though it pains him, even though there's humor lurking somewhere there under the surface. He's quiet for a moment after that, but again, his expression is more thoughtful than anything else.

"Do I?" he asks after a moment with a little bit of a laugh, though it's not quite as amused as it might be. He looks from side to side, then behind, probably to see who's around, before he stops. He looks at a little pile of leaves under one of the trees for a moment, and then they start to move. It could be put down to a breeze, except there isn't any breeze, and it's a little too orderly to be put down wholly to nature, even if they weren't talking about it right then. It's just a few seconds, though, before they stop.

Beth nods her head softly. "Yeah. You're bright. Much brighter than me." The way she suggests it sounds like she thinks he is literally bright. She also looks around because if he's doing it there must be some reason, right? She doesn't exactly look surprised when those leaves move, and she glances up at him briefly, but doesn't comment on it. Clearly it's hard for her to talk about it. "You ever notice when you were away at college that people seemed less bright?"

Ciprian's eyebrows raise, whether at the description of him being bright, or at the idea that he's somehow brighter than her. He doesn't argue, but he doesn't seem like he quite understands -- or maybe he doesn't quite agree. In any case, he's noted the difficulty, and so he doesn't push it quite yet. Instead, he replies, "Sort of, yes. I don't...do a lot with it. But I had a harder time accessing it when I wasn't here. At the time I didn't think much of it, but now I wonder."

"I don't know if I believe everything I've heard about it." Beth admits, and she hesitates like there is a big but coming. "But sometimes I can't explain some of the things that happen. Last night I picked up this woman who had passed away around eleven thirty last night from her house, and I was unloading her from the hearse and suddenly I wasn't there anymore. And then I woke up in my bed and she was downstairs where she was supposed to be and not the garage where I thought I left her."

It's not difficult to sense that 'but,' and sense it he does. So, Ciprian does not interrupt, just lets her talk as they continue down the street. He nods slowly when she goes on, sticking one hand into his pocket. "Huh," he says, looking over at her again with another more scrutinizing expression. "That is strange," he agrees after a moment. "I don't know as much about it as my sister," he admits, "but it sounds similar to some things I've heard of before."

"I've never had that happen to me before." Beth admits, and she seems somewhat unsettled by it. "I know people who are real deep into this stuff, and I've heard them talk about it, but I never really took it seriously?" She smiles, but it's strained. "Guess I should have." She looks a little relieved when he says he's heard of it before even if he doesn't confirm to her that it's happened to him. "Okay. Cool." She says, and she crosses her arms loosely over her chest and keeps walking. "Your sister...I think she was a freshman when I was a senior. She was kinda goth?" She amends quickly, "Not that I'm saying being goth is bad. It's a cool aesthetic."

Ciprian shrugs, replying, "Well, we can't all research everything, right? I haven't looked into it as much as I should, either. I've been avoiding it, but I don't know that I can do that anymore." He looks away and toward the street again, though to be fair to him, he is walking. He probably doesn't need to look that hard at the street, though...but still. He has to smile, though, when she describes Minerva like that. "That's her," he says. "She still is." However, his tone is very fond. "She's in Tel Aviv right now for some family things, but I can ask her to talk to you about it when she gets home, if you want."

"Okay." Beth says at the invitation to talk to Minerva, and she smiles before she pushes her glasses up her face. "I know someone else I can check in with about it, but it doesn't hurt to talk to more than one person." She then changes the subject away from things they'd both clearly rather not discuss in depth. "So what else does she do now? She always seemed like a smart girl when we were in high school. I only had a few classes with her because my schedule got messed up and I had to take some of my freshman classes senior year."

"It doesn't," Ciprian agrees. "I don't think anyone knows everything about it, in any case." He's happy enough to move along to another topic, that's for sure -- he doesn't seem particularly uncomfortable, but he also doesn't try to bring it back to anything shiny or non-mundane. Instead, he says, "She's a parapsychologist. She used to have her own practice, but now she runs a sort of...occult store. Seraphim Acquisitions. She's done really well for herself; I'm proud of her."

"Good for her. It's good to see people do well." Beth says, and she pulls her coat a little closer to her to chase away the chill. "I've been thinking about what we talked about the other day." She mentions as they walk. "About how you do pro-bono, and I do stuff to help people who can't, either. I thought maybe there was something we could do as local professionals for the less fortunate? I don't know. Start a fund. Have benefits for people. Something."

"Oh?" Ciprian looks back over to her now, and when she outlines her plan -- vaguely, anyway -- he does look intrigued. "Huh," he says, considering it for a moment, before he continues, "That sounds like it could be a really good idea. I bet there would be a lot of local people who'd be happy to help out with it. There could be a scholarship fund or something, maybe. Or whatever you have in mind, of course," he adds quickly, since he doesn't want to put words in her mouth.

"I was thinking more like an emergency fund for people in need." Beth admits, but she looks like the idea of a scholarship is interesting. "But why not scholarships, too? We could do stuff like have dinners. Or casino nights. The funeral home has enough funds that we could sponsor the events." Her smile widens a little, "What would you do if it were your idea?"

"That's good, too." It's great, Beth! But really, it is good. As for what he would do, Ciprian shrugs, reaching up to run a hand back through his hair. "I don't know," he replies, falling quiet for a few moments. However, he does continue after a little more consideration. "Maybe have a legal fund for people who can't afford representation. Public defenders are great, but they're overworked, like you said the other day. Maybe try to fund some outreach so people can come get free legal advice."

"That's a great idea. Raise money so people can pay for the lawyers they deserve instead of getting poor attention from pro-bono services." Beth smiles up at Ciprian before she says, "I know we're both pressed for time, but would you want to start something like this with me? We could bring other donors in and pool money from local business owners and the well-to-do." There is a pause, "We could raise money for little league teams, too. Maybe a after school program."

Ciprian considers the idea -- he is busy, of course, but he's also obviously intrigued by it. "Yes," he says, "I think I could devote some time to that. It might need to be after the holidays, but it's a great thought. Maybe up until then we could look around a little bit, see what other interest there is from other people as well."

"Why don't we try to come up with a concise plan after the holidays?" Beth suggests with a small nod of her head in agreement since, let's be honest, they are probably going to both be swamped during that time. "And we could pitch the idea to other people who may be interested." She pulls her coat just a little closer to fight back the damp winter chill.

"That sounds great." Ciprian looks around then when she shivers, and nods to the coffee shop that they're just passing. "Want to go in there?" he asks. "It's a little cold to be walking around. I probably should have planned something that was totally inside, but I'm always hoping that it'll be nice enough to be outside." His smile widens a little bit as he pauses in his steps to wait for her reply. "And I forget not everyone likes to be in the cold."

Beth gives the coffee shop a longing look when he mentions going in. "As much as I love a walk in the brisk November air..." She lets out an amused huff before she starts towards the coffee shop. "I probably would have just picked a bar, and this is probably better, anyways." She says as she reaches for the door and holds it open for him. "You run hot?" She laughs at her own question before she says, "What a weirdo thing to ask someone."

It might be a weird thing to ask, but it makes Ciprian laugh, and he nods. "I do," he replies. "Always have. Ashira's the same way. She never has blankets on her. I used to try and get her to keep something on, now I just don't bother. I figure if she has them there, she'll use them if she wants them." He passes through the door with a nod of thanks for her, starting toward the counter. "What's your poison?" he asks on the way, looking up at the menu above it.

Beth steps up to the counter and tilts her head back slightly to look up at the same time he does. "Ashira is a unique name. It reminds me of some Babylonian diety. Like she and Ishtar get up to a lot together. How'd you pick the name?" She runs her teeth over her bottom lip thoughtfully. "I'm going to have a warm apple cider, I think."

Ciprian nods, ordering the cider for her and a coffee for himself, and when he's done he turns to her again. "It means, 'I will sing' in Hebrew," he says. "Her mom isn't Jewish, but I did want to name her something that was steeped in her heritage. And I've always liked that name. It feels powerful and beautiful, you know? Music and singing is very important in Judaism. I'm sure you know that," he adds quickly with a little more self-deprecating smile. "But that's why."

Beth smiles when he explains, "It feels powerful." She nods her head softly when he mentions how important music is. "It's good to give girls names like that." She says after a moment of reflection. "Everyone wants to give girls dainty names. Ashira is powerful and takes up space and no one will forget her." She turns her head to study his profile, "Preserving your heritage seems important to you."

Ciprian nods at what she says, replying, "I think so, too. I do want her to feel that she can do anything, or be anything, without limiting herself." Their drinks get called, and he takes them, handing her cider to her and taking his coffee for himself as he picks them out a table. "It is," he confirms as he starts that way. "I guess even more so, now, with everything that happened with her mom. It isn't as though I didn't raise her Jewish. But her mom wasn't really too involved in any of that, and now that she's gone it's helped me to fall back on it. What about you?" he asks as they sit down.

Beth murmurs a thank you when he hands her the cider, and she trails after him towards a seat. She puts the cup down on the table and slips out of her coat. "People do what makes them comfortable. It makes sense." She bites her bottom lip and rolls her eyes upwards before she shrugs, "I guess it's the privilege of being part of the majority culture, but it's not something I think about a lot. And I don't know if I believe in white beard man judaeo-christian god if I'm being completely honest . So the religious aspect, which I think is a big part of it, doesn't matter much to me."

Ciprian takes a sip from his coffee as he regards Beth, settling comfortably on the chair and leaning back a bit. He nods slowly when she replies, setting the cup down and turning it around in his hand absently as he considers her words. "It makes sense," he says after a moment. "I do believe, but a lot of it is important culturally more than religiously. Obviously it is a religion, but you know what I mean. I'm sure you have traditions with your family, though."

"Well-" Beth says thoughtfully, "Culture and religion are intertwined, and the culture effects differences in even people who believe in the same religious dogma. An Irish Catholic performs their religion differently than an Italian or French Catholic, for example." She wraps her hands around the paper cup that holds her cider and lifts it for a drink. "Now that I'm done being annoyingly pedantic I guess we do?" Her brows raise a little as if she's having a hard time thinking of any. "Like my grandma makes cherry pie for Thanksgiving. Some grandmas make blueberry or apple to go along with the pumpkin. And some families?" She lowers her voice as if she's about to say something scandalous, "They have sweet potato instead of pumpkin."

A little chuckle escapes Ciprian at Beth's first words, and he has to admit, "You're right. And it just wouldn't be a hangout with both of us if one or the other didn't bring up something awkward, political, or pedantic, would it?" But he certainly doesn't seem like he minds it. "Not annoying at all, actually."

He lifts his cup to take a sip when she recounts her family traditions, but his eyes widen at the mention of sweet potato pie. "That's just wrong," he says with a shake of his head. "If I didn't have pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving I'd probably stage a mutiny."

"No, but you know that's what you dig about this." Beth says with a little quirk upwards of her twist. When his eyes widen she nods her head and goes "Mmmhmm. Think about it-" She puts her drink down and puts her hands on the table to lean forward a bit to whisper, "There are people amongst us who look just like us. But are they like us, Ciprian? Are they?" She leans back and tilts her head as if to say absolutely not.

"You aren't wrong," Ciprian concedes as he sets his cup down again. "I think I'd probably be disappointed if something like that didn't come up." He leans forward, though when she does, his expression very serious, even though there's a little glint of humor in his eyes. "I guess that means we always have to be on our guard against the insidious agenda of the sweet potato pie cult," he whispers back, and it looks like he wants to laugh, but he manages not to.

Beth keeps a completely straight face as she keeps her head lowered and her voice low. This is clearly very Serious Business. "Oh you think it's funny, do you? Well maybe you don't know what it's like to get a nice piece of pumpkin pie, take a bite, and discover that it is in fact not pumpkin and you have been tricked." She shakes her head and tuts. "You know what all of this sweet potato pie shenanigans really are, right?" And then her lips twitch upwards as if she can't maintain the facade anymore.

Ciprian can't, either, and he just lets out a little snort. He isn't a man who laughs very easily or often, but he's done it quite a bit this evening, which is probably telling. "They're probably aliens," he agrees conspiratorially, attempting to keep that serious mien, but it doesn't work. "that reminds me of when I first gave blood, I found out that I was rH-, and when I looked it up, one of the first Google hits I got was this website saying that everyone who was rH- was descended from aliens, and one of these days they were going to come and take us all back to the home planet. It hasn't happened so far, but I'm hopeful."

"What do you think is the biggest food delivery to Roswell New Mexico is?" Beth asks before she chokes back a laugh, but when he mentions rH- and aliens she laughs outright. "What? No. I /did/ hear rH- came from getting busy with neanderthals, though. So you are in fact not completely homo sapien. Guess your great-great-great grandma by a thousand was into men with strong brow ridges."

"Did you? Well, that would explain a lot," Ciprian replies with another wider smile, sitting back again and grabbing his coffee cup. "I always knew there was something off about me. I just thought it was what we were talking about the other day. Turns out it's just that I'm a caveman. Who knew?" He takes another drink from his coffee, letting out a little satisfied sigh as he sets the cup down again. "I'm learning all sorts of things about myself lately."

"Glad I could be of help." Beth says, and she looks like she may say something else but just then her phone buzzes in her pocket. She resists reaching for it, but in the end she can't help herself, and out it comes. She glances down at it before she sighs, "Hey so I'm sorry to cut and run when you just bought me a really tasty apple cider, but I have to go do a pick up from the nursing home." She looks up at him to give him a apologetic look. "Do you want to maybe get a bottle of wine sometime this week and watch your kid play in the backyard? You know. Mom play date except without the mom?"

Ciprian glances to her phone, and he lifts a hand to wave the apology away as he replies, "No problem. Duty calls, right?" As for the suggestion, it seems like he thinks it's a good one. "Sure," he says, "that would be great. I'm sure she'd love to meet you. I warn you that she'll probably bombard you with questions about dead bodies once she figures out what you do." Hopefully Beth is used to that. "I'll call you later this week. Have a good night."

"That'll be a departure from when adults bombard me with questions about dead bodies once they figure out what I do." Beth says in amusement as she stands up from the table. "Thanks for the cider. I'll see you later." And then she starts towards the door.