2019-11-29 - Candy Land Preparation

It's evening, just after sundown, a couple of days after Thanksgiving. Alexander is at home, that much is plain: he doesn't have a car in the driveway, sure, but the lights in the house are on, and he's taking advantage of his housemate's visit to NYC to play classic metal at a volume that would probably be rude anywhere but Elm. He's laying on the couch, feet dangling over the edge, reading a book on victimology while a green-cheeked conure struts around on his hair, and a beautiful white cat lounges possessively on his stomach, her tail twitching this way and that as she blinks sleepy blue eyes up towards his head. She doesn't seem to mind that the view of his face is blocked by his book.

It's probably a bit later than a polite person would come by, but... well, Lex isn't polite. And so there's a knock at the door, familiar in one of those 'forever ago' ways.

There's a small explosion of movement from the animals, and Alexander curses as cat claws dig into his lower abdomen, perilously close to places no cat claws should go. Blue Bell leaps to the carpet, and Luigi flutters back to his cage. Alexander puts the book aside and rises to his feet, rubbing at his stomach. He's in a pair of old University of Oregon sweats as he answers the door. There's a blink, then a warm smile. "Miss Falco. It has been too long." He opens the door and waves her in. "Something to drink? I have...water. And soda. And tequila."

Lex says, "Hey. I, uh, sorry to come by late... night shift, and..." Well, he didn't used to be a night person." She begins speaking almost before he's answered, as if explaining her presence as a faux pas. The woman has dyed her hair blue at some point, and left to its natural curl. Certainly... closer to what he used to know? Plus some holes. A black trench coat keep out the majority of Seattle, but Lex's arms are nonetheless wrapped around at least three .. board games?"

"Don't worry about it. I don't sleep much," Alexander points out. "It's nice to see you." An interested glance down at the board games, but rather than ask about them, he waits for her to come in, the closes and locks the door behind her. It's Elm; leave a door or window open too long, and that's considered an invitation. A wave towards the couch. There's a coffee table to put the games on, too. "Night shift at...the tattoo place, or the dispensary?"

"Yeah, I... remembered that, but I gotta remember that six years passed here, too, y'know? I couldn't remember this one, do you eat chocolate?" A pre-packaged bag of briber -- of mini-snickers is raised in display, having been previously hidden by the board games. "I got you licorice, too, if you're weird about that, too." She sets the board down on the couch enough to respect what appears to be a porcelain chess set, atop Candy Land, and then, of course, Operation. The actual candy is dropped more casually, and she's shrugging out of her trench coat to regard him in black leggings and oversized hoodie. "So. Sorry to bust in like I did when I was a kid, I just... got some questions." And as far as Lex Falco is concerned, Alexander is the Knower of Things.

Lex says, ""Oh, and can we at least go back to Alexandra? You can even pronounce it weird.""

"I'm not weird about candy," Alexander says without visible offense. "And I like both chocolate and licorice, so thank you." He reaches out to offer to take the trench coat and hang it up on the backside of the door. "Alexandria, then. And I will pronounce it correctly." A fond smile flickers to life on his tired features. "And I don't mind visitors. You know that. I just don't get many. If I can answer questions, I will."

"Okay, I... okay, yeah. I just... stuff's changed." Clearly, there's a bit of a timewarp happening in Lex's brain right about now. "Did you want to play something?" That was her excuse for coming over as a teenager. Her discovery of his perhaps now regrettable fondness for board games.

Alexander takes her coat, hangs it up, and returns to take a seat on the couch beside her. "Yeah. Let's play something. I haven't played chess in a couple of months and," he laughs, "I don't think I've played Candy Land since the last time you brought it over. Tempted to say that for nostalgia's sake." He gives her a sidelong look. "You stand out more than you used to. What happened?"

Lex grins as he recounts her then-plethora of board games, glancing between the chess set and then Candy Cand. There's a more pointed look toward Alexander, one he might actually notice, before she plucks Candyland out of the stack. "Dyed my hair blue?" She ventures, green eyes narrowing slightly in confusion as she moves, without permission, to turn down the music to an 'I can hear you speak' level. "Or you talkin' about Gray Harbor voodoo?" She's never been one to be subtle about... well, anything. But Gray Harbor's... Gray Harboriness in general.

Alexander watches her go; the music is actually in his bedroom, but just inside the door, and he doesn't stop her from turning it down. Instead, he sits back on the couch, eyes half-lidded. "You did die your hair blue. It looks nice." A pause. "And you're dating that fellow who left town and came back, aren't you? But what I mean is that you've gotten sharper." A pause. "The way some people say they see people shine, or glow. That's stronger."

"Thanks," is her response to his comment about the hair, seeming to take the comment as more than 'the polite thing to say'. She starts to smirk and nod as Alexander describes Poe, though she doesn't get much of a chance to respond as he continues. She pauses in her study of the area, likely for somewhere to set up the board, and glances back at him. "You... can tell? Like... it's really worse? Well, fuck." She's drawing a slightly deeper breath, but otherwise, going about the set up of Candy Land.

"Dispensary," she responds, giving lifting a blue 'brow at the man, but offering no true surprise that he knows her current workplaces. Alexander Knows Things. "I don't do the parlor in shifts much anymore. A small town is... small town wages. Sometime I might ride down to Seattle for a weekend, but that's why I picked up the second. Got myself PRN with tattoos." She steps into house when invited, stripping off her trench coat with a pair of black leggings and an oversized black hoodie. Blue hair drawn atop her head in what's supposed to be a messy bun, but is mostly just messy. Hey, it was a few doors down, okay? "How're you? I figured I'd see more of you, with Ruiz and you bein' ... being buddies ... but I moved. I think he did, too."

"Worse?" Alexander lifts an eyebrow. "It's stronger. That can be worse. Or better. Depending." He gestures to the coffee table - it's the only table in the house, really, so it will have to make do. He grabs the other boxes and puts them to the side, so there's plenty of room. "And anyone can see how much you stand out, if they also do the same."

Alexander nods. "There's only so many pieces of ink you can do on the population here, I guess. Although I've heard good things about your work." He snorts, and shakes his head. "Javier doesn't often issue invitations to his house, or wherever he happens to be staying, in my experience." His voice is dry. "But I'm fine. Mostly fine. I'm sorry I haven't reached out more often. But you said you had new housemates? Still working well?"

"I mean... more sharp than before. I thought I'd just gotten out of practice or somethin'. After Gram died, I kinda... MIA'd this place... and the voodoo doesn't work outside of Gray Harbor. I'm sure you knew that. Anyway... went six years with nothin', then I come back and I'm blowing up fuckin' furniture when 'Javier' is .. himself." A pause, 'brows knitting a bit. "Happened other times, too, but that was the worse, I think. Went full blown Carrie on that shit."

"Honestly, I can't blame you. He can be very difficult," Alexander says, with a shrug. "But...you should learn to control it, Alexandria. It shouldn't control you." He frowns and leans forward to place his elbows on his knees. "It works outside of Gray Harbor. It's weaker, depending on where you are, and some places it's very weak, but don't think you're entirely safe if you leave."

"I don't think I'm gonna be safe if I stay, either," Lex is noting, just as dryly. Practically forcing the man to sit on the ground if he wants to be the Red piece in Candy Land. "I wanted to ask you about that. I mean... Gram taught me some shit, but there's only so much a kid knows to ask. I didn't know I was gonna fuckin'... upgrade. How do I 'learn to control' it? If I'm not half baked, and even then, shit starts to get like... floaty. It just kinda... was before. Now what the hell." She's chosen green for herself, should he be ready at 'Start'.

Alexander doesn't seem to mind sitting on the floor. He slides down there, taking up an easy half-lotus sort of position, and tapping the red piece lightly on its head. "I don't move things," he reminds her. "I don't know how much help I can be specifically to you. I can show you some of the ways I ground myself, and maybe that will help." He pauses. "You just have to remember that whenever you're doing something, using an ability, it's because a part of you is willfully reaching out to the world around you. Identifying why you're doing that can help a lot."

"Then... yeah, what do you do? Though, does shit ever go haywire when you're upset? If not, this is probably a stupid question." A pause. It seems she's as overly talkativeiin private as she is generally untalkative in public. "What... do you do to 'ground yourself'? When it's bad enough that stuff starts happening, I'm usually not in a ... thoughtful mood."

"Yeah," Alexander says, softly. "I...well. Not as much anymore. I've learned not to lash out with my powers when I'm angry, not unless I actually mean to kill someone. But when I was younger? Yes, I'd use them by instinct when I was upset or afraid. And while there are stupid questions, that's not one, Alexandria." He offers her a smile. "It's something that all of us have to think about, at some point. For me, I raise mental walls. I have a whole construct of sorts that I maintain to keep me in, rather than projecting out. Or receiving. That was always my weakness. I'd reach out to touch minds, and get a faceful of all their hurt and anger and sadness."

"How young ago was younger?" she queries dryly, lifting a 'brow as she considers the man. "I'm 24 now, and fuck knows how old you are." She pauses for a time at the more serious topic, wincing slightly at his mention of getting facefuls. "Gram moved stuff, like I do. It's... easier to put into words, I guess. I don't even know I'm doing it, is the thing. For all I know, someone's dish disposal turns on when I get annoyed at my pencil. I'm just. Fuck. Do you get the Dreams?" She rolls the die for her first move, and judges her little piece forward five spots.

"I could read people as young as I remember," Alexander says. "I started getting night terrors when I was about five or so, and had my first 'Dream' when I was eight or nine." His smile is thin and sharp. "My toys tried to cut me open and fill me with stuffing. I'd say I was pretty uncontrolled until I left Gray Harbor. It was hard to control it - I guess I'm just the kind of stupid motherfucker who reaches for the hot stove multiple times." There's a thoughtful nod. "I've never had the psychokinetic talents. I don't really understand them, or how they feel. You might need someone who can connect with you on that level to help you really understand what you're doing. I can show you my own shields; you've got some of my abilities, too, so we can connect."

He plays Candy Land way more ruthlessly than anyone SHOULD play a board game. Especially one that's essentially up to chance. And he smiles whenever he looks at the board, too; like a smug asshole.

Hey, Candyland is an entirely legit game. And it was in the 'game box' at Poe's grandmother's duplex. Considering the rumors of some of what has come out of 23 Elm, it was probably the safest selection. "Do you know if you are you born with it? The sharpness, I mean. I was probably six or seven until people figured out it was me doin' whatever."

"Some people are. Some people develop it later - or maybe they always had the potential, but it awakens later." Alexander grins as he pulls ahead in the joyful, colorful landscape of the board. "I'm going to crush you," he tells her, playfully. "I think it's more difficult, the younger you get it. Kids are impulsive. Not good at managing their emotions. Inclined to do stupid shit. Not a great combination with actual superpowers." His nose wrinkles. "What we can do can hurt a lot of people very badly. We have to remember that."

"Yeah, well, pretty sure I'd kick your ass on Candy Crush. I'm past the exploding sprinkle things." It's said with the same teasing understone. "Yeah, I know. That's kind of the problem. Though... I got things out here dealt with." A broad gesture toward his front room. Well, the world, but most immediately, his front room. "Had one of the real Dreams the other night, almost got me. I can usually fight back, but my 'powers' weren't working. And I got caught up in one of the town's frequent fuckfests with a pissy skeleton. I know practicing calls in all the 'oh shit', but... how else are you prepared? Or is that just the end?

"I don't know what those are," Alexander admits, because he's a fogey who games old school, and not with any of your newfangled phone devices. He grins at her, but it fades as she continues. "I'm sorry to hear that. The Dreams have gotten strange and frequent of late. I'm not sure if it's because there are more people who stand out, here, of late, or if people who stand out are being drawn here by whatever is also causing more frequent Dreams." But it bothers him, that much is clear. "And you always need to have a back-up. Don't become dependent on your abilities - if you can fight in other ways, do so. I gather your young man is pretty skilled. Perhaps he could teach you? I often end up having to result to physical violence." He draws a card, advances his token. "Although I don't know if that's truly 'have to', or just...using the tools I have available."

"I can't... see... my own sharpness. Dunno if you can. Poe, my 'young man'... yeah, he did cage fighting in LA after he left as a teen. I've already talked to him about teaching me to fight, and he'll... well, the kinda shit that's coming up in these dreams? If my voodoo ain't working... I'm fucked. And so's anybody who's in there with me." She's wincing slightly at that, shifting a bit on the carpet and reaching to take a card on her own.

"Are you fucking with these? Swear to God, you win everything..." Apparently, it wasn't a good card.

"I think he wanted me to ask you how to... stop them from happening, I guess. And fuck, all I know is that the more I do, the worse the nights are."

"How to stop Dreams from happening?" Alexander grimaces. "Only two ways I know - using less will make them happen less, on average. It's not perfect, and some days someone is just going to want to fuck you up, and you just have to buckle up and ride along." There's a shrug, like this is just the way the world works. Her draw is given a grin. "Psychic," he points out, with a hint of smugness. Even though this game has no possible way to benefit from psychic powers. Which is one of the reasons he likes it. Then the smile falls off his face. "The other way seems to be sign up with the Shadows. Feed them pain and suffering from other people, and apparently they'll leave you pretty much alone."

"Shadows?" She tips a glance upward once more, a blue 'brow arching upward. If this isn't a term he used half a decade ago, it seems she's forgotten it. "And I'm not even being a smart-ass here, but does it matter whose pain and suffering, 'cause..." She's a smart-ass.

"If you use your brain voodoo on me, I'm gonna start moving the pieces and callin' where-e-ever they land damn official." The idle thread is just that. Idle. She harbors no wrath toward the man -- the opposite, if anything -- and any venture into her 'brain' that he might make would assure as much.

"You don't... use yours much, right? Unless you have to?" A glance from the game board and back to Alexander. "The ones that happen no matter what. Like... if this shit keeps going down, I got serious doubts I'm gonna make it the year. How you still haunting this place?"

Alexander shrugs. "That's sometimes why I call them." He didn't talk about them much before; half-convinced that everyone was right and he was just a lunatic, he didn't go out of his way to try to prove it to the teen who hung around him. "Or dolorphages. I've also heard them called Dark Men. But I don't think they're men at all, so." He grimaces. "And no. It doesn't seem to matter whose - as long as you're hurting someone to divert them from you." There's no humor at all in his voice as he adds, "Don't do it. It's a bad way."

"I use it probably more than I should. In my work, and these days with all the Dreams. Which probably doesn't help, since it brings more dreams." There's a faint, humorless smile. "And mostly I'm just too damned spiteful to die, I guess. They want misery, and sorrow. They want me to hurt other people, or curl up and die in pain, and I just--fuck them. That's the long and short of it."

"So... pretty much the conclusion I'd come to, too," she notes, tone dripping with irony. "Go figure, huh?" She's drawing a deeper breath, and offering him a bit of a smirk as her little game piece is nudged about an inch forward. Because they do that. On their own.

"People who... don't slip into the Dreams all the time, or don't got enough ... sharpness pent up, they don't get it. You gotta do what you're avoiding to survive what you're doing. It's... fucked up. Here's another one... why are you still here? I had the misfortune of being born here, you..." Dryly spoken, but in a... familiar way. Teasing, with no malice behind it.

"Also born here," Alexander reminds her. "And I wouldn't fit anywhere else. Believe me, I did try. Didn't go well." He shrugs. "This town is fucked up, but so am I. And there's not a lot of other places where people are gonna hire a guy who's more comfortable chasing down rampaging elves or surviving giant zombie amalgamations of beloved classic television stars than he is, I dunno, building a web page or going to an office or," a hint of wistfulness here, "putting on a police uniform. This is the only place where I...kinda pass as, not normal, but...useful. Anywhere else, I'm just a middle-aged crazy with no real work history and a lot of weird fucking quirks."

Then he gives her a very serious look. "If you and Poe can get the fuck out, though? You should. Without hesitation."

"Well, yeah... but you weren't here when I was really young. So you left at some point. And then came back. Maybe I should've asked that... but it seems so... past-tense." She snorts softly to herself, then rolls the dice. "You're going to get stuck in that chocolate lava thing. If you don't, you're officially cheating and we're playing something you can't outsmart." She sounds rather adamant about that.

His last comment has her sobering, unfortunately, drawing a deep breath inward. "Things... weren't good when I left this place. I mean... this place is a hellhole, but the years I wasn't here... I think they were worse. Poe talks about leaving sometimes, but he was born here, too. I always try to chase off the goddamn newcomers, but they never listen."

"Amazingly enough, Alexandria, my life did involve things before you were friends with me. Before you were even born." Alexander's voice is dry and teasing. "But yeah. I left for college. College was nice - I fetched up in Eugene. But after that?" He shakes his head. "I made my way back here, eventually. Tried to become a complete hermit, except for this one kid who didn't make good life choices about who to tag along behind." He winks at her. "And no. I say 'leave', but...the town won't let us, I think. Most of us. Some people do escape, but," he shrugs, "it's not the way I bet."

"Yeah, Al-ex-an-der, I remember that you're fuckin' ancient," is her response to his first tease, and she's snorting at the mention of life choices. "What happened when you left?" Probing much? "I'll tell if you tell." Considering the young woman left the town a troubled youth and came back looking like living graffiti, her story is probably more elaborate than 'I spent time with friends'. "What do you mean, won't let us? Like... does that fucked up shit where you're like... driving in circles? Christ."

"Hey. Not ancient. Just older. I'd like to say wiser, but," he gestures at the shabby surroundings, with a grin. "I don't think it'd stick." Alexander leans back against the couch, and shakes his head, all of the humor leaving his face. "No," he says, flatly. "I don't like to talk about that." A shrug. "Sorry." He takes a deep, shuddering breath, and tries to keep his shoulders from falling back into the hunch that they want to go to. "And no," he continues in a more normal voice, "I don't think it's that blatant. But people say they were called here. And even those of us who know it's best to get out of town? Notice how we always make excuses why we don't just leave? I don't think that's just a psychological preference for the familiar."

"Sorry," Lex is offering, with what appears to be sincerity, when her question draws up visible discomfort in the other. There's a flickered glance toward his posture, and a dark 'brow is raised. "You can relax around me, you know. I may be young" - air-quotes - "but I'm an adult. At least all the legal places think I am." A green-eyed wink at that, before she draws a card. There's a short litany of Spanish curses, and then she nudges her plastic self into the chocolate lava pit. "By the way? If you haven't already found out, Ruiz is bad news. Or good news, I guess, if you're looking for an asshole." Hey, it's Gray Harbor. You never know.

Alexander shakes his head. "Nothing to be sorry about, Alexandria. I just don't like to talk about it." He smiles. "And it has nothing to do with your age." He snickers when she goes into the chocolate lava pit, and reaches for his own card. Smooth sailing to the next gumdrop. Really, maybe he's illusioning her to pick the bad cards, at this point. He moves his piece with a smug smile. One that turns into raised eyebrows at her next remark. "What happened?" He's not disagreeing with her assessment, but he's not agreeing, either.

He earns himself a few choice words in Spanish -- how does he keep ending up around these people? -- when he avoids the lava pit, and an exaggerated sigh as she hands over the dice for a missed turn card. "Well, cops are assholes in general, you know that. You know that, right?" A pause, and a slightly dubious glance toward the man. They did know each other prior to Lex's potential-felon status. "And he's... kinda worse than most, I think. Good at manipulating. Though, fuck, I guess that's what cops are supposed to be like, huh?"

"I disagree with that premise," Alexander says, with a shrug. "Some cops are assholes. Most are just trying to do a job, and aren't either good people or deliberate assholes, but can be either as the situation takes them. Some are...better than that." He doesn't say which one he thinks Ruiz falls in, but he takes the dice, and throws them cheerfully enough. The dice are kind, and he grins before moving his token and handing the dice back. "And you're avoiding the question, Alexandria. What happened?"

"What do you think happened?" she sighs after a moment, not bothering to play the word games that she probably learned, at least in part, from Alexander himself. "Slept with him, and two nights later, found him sleeping with that blonde lady you met. Luce? I dunno. Things have been weird since I got back, and that shit hole with Ruiz and Luce was the first place I found to stay." There's a one-shouldered shrug. "You still bring him coffee?" She offers the man a half-smirk, before rolling the dice.

Alexander makes a noise. It sounds both resigned and exasperated. "That happens a lot, I gather. Sorry. I'm sure it hurt." He nods at her question. "Sometimes. Yeah. We're friends. He can be sort of an asshole, sometimes. But he's..." there's a shrug of his own, the one-shouldered movement an unconscious imitation of Lex's own. "I like him. He's more than his flaws. But," a smile flickers, "I don't expect anyone else to feel the same way. You gotta decide your own limits, in this as in everything else." He studies her. "What about your new place? Still going okay? And it sounds like you've found some people?"

"I don't think he's a bad guy. I mean... I don't think he's going around trying to hurt people. Just... really bad at not hurting people, I guess? I've known a lot of people like that. Doesn't mean you shouldn't be their friend, as I see it... just means you should remember those flaws before they can get to you." Finally free of the lava pit, a roll and card has her sliding down something or another with a litany of Spanish vulgarity. "How are you winning a children's game? Christ, Alexander... you ever play the lotto? You need to play the lotto." If Gray Harbor hasn't been banned from such things. Everything's just fine in the town of psychics.

"Things got a little rough for a while, but it worked out. I live with Poe and his grandma." She snorts at herself, just in case he doesn't feel like doing so. "Though I think I've seen her... twice in the last month. You should meet Poe. He talks... -a lot-... around strangers, but he's a good guy."

Alexander chuckles, softly. "That part, I don't disagree with. But most of the people I like are assholes in one way or another. I'm a little broken like that. Not great at picking friends. Present company excepted," he adds, with a cheeky smile towards her. "And I'm pretty sure that you can't actually do that with a blender, not even if a cat's involved," he adds, in regards to the Spanish. He outright laughs as she slides down the board. "I'm only lucky when it doesn't matter, Alexandria. No lottery tickets for me." The amusement shades more serious. Softly, he says, "If things were rough, you should have reached out to me, you know. I might have been able to help. And I've met him. He was a troublemaker as a boy," he muses, reaching for his card, and grinning as he gets to move ahead several spaces. "Has some unsavory connections. But he seems to care about you, and if you like him...well," he shrugs. "I'm the last one to criticize others' relationships."

"Are you saying that this -" a dramatic point of her finger toward the boardgame "- is not serious? How dare you. I take these things to heart, you know. Potentially life-altering." She's sticking out a stud-pierced tongue when he offers that grin, and then snorts at the comment about the cat. "When'd you learn to speak Spanish? Or you just memorizing the curse words?" That seems... well, likely. The same would happen if he spent much time around her, nowadays. "What about you? I pretty much ignore most people, but I heard a rumor..." she draws out the last word, and lifts both 'brows in expectation.

Alexander snorts. "If it's that important to you, then you should play better," he says, teeth flashing in challenge. "And, uh," he coughs. "I speak every language, now. Or...understand. Every language. Alive, dead, whatever. I can speak them a little, but it's harder to fish words out of...wherever they come from, than it is to pick up the meaning of the words you're using." He hands back the dice. "And people spread a lot of rumors about me, Alexandria. I don't have treasure. I haven't eaten any cats or missing children. Beyond that, you'll have to be more specific."

"Those are the best rumors about you," she informs, with complete sobriety. "Normal shit like hoarding or conspiracy theory are completely a decade ago." His mention of poly...literacy? ... whatever one would call what he has earns a glance upward. "You've gotten into some pretty weird shit since we really talked last, haven't you?" Dryly spoken. It has been six years. In Gray Harbor. It's truly a wonder he's still alive. "And don't play coy. Girls don't announce their love over loud speakers every day, you know... and we do live in a rather small town..."

"They are at least entertaining," Alexander says, voice dry. "And I'd more say that Gray Harbor is getting weirder. Being able to go Over There, being able to bring shit back, all of that? It's made the world a progressively stranger place, and I suppose I become a little stranger with it." And then she goes on, and he sputters. "Oh. Oh. You heard that, did you?" His head ducks. "Um. Yes. I'm seeing Isabella Reede. You probably would have gone to high school with her, if she hadn't left town before finishing." He coughs. "And don't make any wisecracks about our ages. I know I'm too old for her. But she's..." He turns a little red around the cheek. "Anyway."