2019-12-03 - Elves and Accidents

Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells... Yep, it's that time of year. The streets and storefronts of downtown are hung with decorations that can only be adequately described by the word 'quaint', and harried shoppers are going from store to store, looking for either the perfect gift, or at least the gift that won't make the holiday end in tears. Tinny Christmas music is being piped from the speakers, the jingle of Salvation Army folk can be heard from several corners.

Alexander doesn't exactly fit the festive atmosphere in his shabby clothes, but he's got a couple of bags on one arm, so maybe he's actually doing some shopping. Right now, though, he's frowning at a couple of dancing people in elf costumes. They seem to be trying to advertise something on a sign, but the sign is being flipped and turned around so quickly that it's impossible to see what it is.

Abby is reasonably festive in her red wool coat with the big black buttons. At this time of year, the red just goes with the holiday theme. Underneath she's in a t-shirt and jeans and warm boots with fuzzy trim, but the woolen coat definitely classes up the whole look. She's strolling down the street, possibly doing some shopping, judging by the bag she's carrying at her side and the slowing of her footsteps outside a store here and there. She's also very much not Scroogy, because she's got a big warm smile for dancing people in elf costumes. And decorations. And tinny music. And everyone in general.

"Ms...Reed, wasn't it?" Alexander says, as he notices Abby in the crowd. One of the few people who seems to be genuinely smiling there, as it happens. He offers her a smile, in return, although the elf costumes get another wary look. He's watching you. But then a glance back at the nurse and her bags. "Holiday shopping, or the regular sort?"

The holiday music has moved on to 'I Saw Mama Kissing Santa Claus'.

It's a quiet meander that Abitha is taking, not so much directed, eyes turned toward tinsel and light-lined windows. One slow step in front of the other, browsing, maybe looking a bit wistful, the frustration of finding something good enough to send to her family grating, but not so much feeling the rush this early in the month. She's dressed in an earthy green wool cloak of some sort, her arms not really visible, a patterned skirt of some sort and some dark leggings tucked into fuzzy boots. Her hair is pulled up into a bun, and a black woolen band loops her ears and hair. She seems a tad oblivious, thoughts and possibilities running through her head, occasionally stopping to look and consider. The motion catches her eye, and she finds herself also frowning at the sign-spinny elf, and her frown turns to a grimace when the song comes on, a look swept around to attempt to identify the cursed source.

"That's right!" Abby answers, still smiling as she takes a moment to stare at Alexander. "Oh..." She snaps her fingers twice, eyes narrowing and flicking aside for a second, "Mr. Clayton, right? A little bit of both," she replies with a glance down at her bags. One clearly belongs to a nearby crafts store , the other has a more generic Christmas print outside. "Fortunately, I don't have a lot of holiday shopping left to do!" Glancing up, she spots Abitha, and stares for a second in thought before holding up a hand to wave a friendly greeting down the street. "Hello! There's someone who might help me with some of my Christmas shopping left. Well, if I'd brought the paper, anyway..."

"You don't? You must be more efficient," Alexander admits, ducking his head and looking sheepish. "I've barely even started on mine, although I don't have many people to shop for. But, aside from my parents, they're all...new friends, of a sort, so I don't really know what they'd like." He follows her look, curiously, and stares with a frank interest that borders on rudeness at Abitha. "How would this person help?" he asks, but not without a friendly sort of nod in that direction.

Oh god, someone greeted her on the street. Act normal. People interact in the wild. Abitha's eyes only slightly widened, the hallmark of a generally anxious person, she at least politely turns toward Abby, returning the wave. At least it was real easy to remember this one's name. Abitha wasn't sure she heard that last part from Abby as she approaches, slipping between people, only having to shoot one glare at someone walking a bit too close, not noticing the small woman. She does catch the near end of Alexander's question, and returns the look, quite proficient herself at it with her normally dour and flat expression. She even adds a slow down-up look to ice it off. The beginnings of a smirk betray at least a little humor in it. "I'm helping? Abby, you've been to my shop once. You didn't even buy anything." The twitch of that smirk wasn't keeping it a secret well that Abitha was just teasing.

Abby tilts her head towards Alexander, eyes darting from side, lowering her voice as if she's letting him in on a secret. "I start my Christmas shopping in January," she says with a wink and a bright smile, though that fades a little as she looks down at her bags again. "I don't really have that many people to shop for, either. Not serious shopping, anyway. There's degrees to these things," she declares, gaze returning to Abitha, who gets a friendly smile. "You will be! I have a - I'm supposed to buy a gift for a kid. For a - it was on a tree. It's a charity thing. There was a tree. Anyway, I have a paper that says what he likes and things, but I don't have it on me. I should've taken a picture with my phone."

The tinny music has changed to 'Last Christmas', but the recording seems a little off - it's a little higher and faster than the song should really be played. Just enough to make it feel noticeably odd, but not yet to Chipmunk level. The Christmas lights flicker almost in sync with the song - maybe they spent more time and energy on the decorations this year? The elves dancing in their costumes are actually pretty good - sure, you can't read the sign, but they're doing aerobatic flips and turns, and it's sort of a shame that no one of the passing shoppers really seems to notice it.

Alexander smiles back to Abby, warmth returned for warmth. "That's very early. But it looks like it pays off." His head tilts to one side. "Are there? What are the degrees?" That is a serious question, and this is a serious face he's making at her. Although he seems content to wait for the answer, instead studying Abitha, instead. "Do you run a toy shop, then?" he asks her. "I don't know you."

August comes down the street, a couple of bags in hand. Better to get the shopping done now so he can get everything shipped down to Portland ahead of him. He's in a black pea coat, slate gray sweater, and black denim jeans with brown suede boots. He gives the carolers a suspicious, sidelong look, tosses Alexander an up-nod. Abby and Abitha each get a curious glance, and then he too is watching the sign spinners. "I guess it must get them some business, or they wouldn't bother." He turns to the three, coughs at Alexander's usual blunt introduction.

"Oh yeah, charity thing." Abitha's eyes whip aside, literally the worst at looking innocent that one could possibly be. She's able to smoothly turn this into a plausible expression, though, face scrunching in slight annoyance or disgust, "Did they try to make a Nightcore version of 'Last Christmas'?" She shakes her head and glances at Alexander, "Nope. Control Pad. Video game store. And I don't know you either." she states matter of factly, still smirking, ready to leave it there as she turns on Abby. "But I'm guessing video games were listed." Her hands finally appear from the little openings in the poncho, gloved in black wool, counting off on her fingers while she lists all the current gen of systems to see if it jogs Abby's memories. During this, she notices August by his speech, eyes glancing to him for a brief moment, but her mouth continuing to move, looking back to Abby for any sort of indication. She wasn't attempting to be rude, she was just in problem-solving mode, and she wasn't sure who he'd been speaking to.

Abby seems to be into this whole Christmas scene, really. It's the red coat. She even vaguely wiggles to the music, however peculiar sounding. "Oh, yes, sorry! Abitha is my neighbor. Well, the store is anyway," Abby explains, gesturing at Abitha. Then she gestures at Alexander, "And Mr. Clayton is an investigator." She stresses the last word with her eyebrows climbing high, shooting Alexander another curious look. "Right, well, there's buying gifts for significant others and there's buying gifts for acquaintances, right? It's different. It's mostly acquaintances for me," she explains, almost as an aside, while her attention is focused on Abitha. "See, I think he has a Switch, or he wants something for the Switch or - I'm not sure, but I'll come by the store with the paper."

"Alexander Clayton," Alexander tells Abitha, and gives her an expectant look for a name to be supplied. He does add, "The sound system is probably just old. It only gets used about twice a year, and I don't even know whether maintenance is done in between." A nod to Abby at the partial introduction and explanation of degrees. "I see. That makes sense. I'll keep in in mind. That's half a name," he points out to the introduction, then flashes a smile at the approaching August. "August. Hello. Happy Holidays. Have you met Abigail Reed and Abitha who owns the Control Pad?"

Another costumed elf has appeared out of an alley way, and is dancing along behind August, holding a big sign that just has a wrapped present box on it.

Abitha nods to Abby, "That's fine. If I'm not there, Sparrow will know what to reccomend. At least if it's the Switch, that's the best variety of kid-friendly, mother-approved kinda stuff." Her look flicks to Alexander as he properly introduces herself and seemingly jokes, "Abitha Machinae. Or just Mac." Her hands had disappeared back into her cloak, though, favoring the internal warmth to human contact. But the introduction would bring her attention to August, who seemed to have his own issues to deal with... As well as whatever was creeping up behind him... Abitha furrows her brows, but dismisses it as just strange holiday buffoonery. She glances back to Alex. "Investigator, huh? Like frosted glass door printed with your name sort?" she asks, calling back to cliche old movies.

Abby nods, shifting her bags from hand to hand. "Some gifts I'm still working on, but I'm making those. And that's just a hobby, so I started them months ago," she explains further, tilting her head back to look around at the decorated street, even smiling at the dancing elves. She smiles at August too, and holds up a hand to wiggle her fingers in a wave, but doesn't say anything as the man seems busy on his phone. Looking to Abitha, she nods quickly, "I'll drop by. There are other things he'd like, but I don't think I can afford a whole fancy new console." Abby makes a small sorry face at this, nose crinkling up. "I'm not very good with console games. Sometimes I want a PS4 but... well, I'll come by anyhow."

"Sparrow. Philomena Sparrow Jones?" Alexander perks up at the mention of the name. "She works at your shop? And...Abitha Machinae. Unusual name. I'll remember it." He probably doesn't mean it to sound ominous. His hands stay in his pockets. A shake of his head, and an amused laugh, at Abitha's comment. "I don't make enough money to have an office. I have a website. That's about it." He's about to say something more to Abby, but then trails off. He's looking at the elf who was capering behind August. As August is distracted, it has danced around him and is moving closer to the three of them. One of its acrobatic turns flashes its face at them - and they can all see that its eyes are black from end to end, and its teeth are large and pointed, like a shark's. Behind them, the other two dancing elves are also starting to dance in their direction.

Abitha actually almost doesn't believe it. She's cosplayed, and contacts like that existed... They sucked to put in, but they existed... And the teeth? Ok, not so easily explained. She recoils a step, mouth dropping open, but no sound comes out, she seemed like she was totally in shock. Afterall, this was the first time she'd actually seen anything freaky in Gray Harbor. After a few beats of attempting to process what her eyes were telling her, she whispers quietly, "What the f-..."

Abby was just enjoying the capers. Her bags swing at her side, fingers moving to the beat of the music. She's focused on the chat, when everyone else obviously trails off, and her own attention follows theirs towards the elves. Abby blinks. "Oh, that's - either the budget's so tight that someone had to recycle their Halloween costumes, or that's not a very funny prank..." she deadpans, pulling her shopping bags a little closer to herself, brow set in a small frown as she sneaks a quick peek around at the rest of the street.

August comes back from his sudden work phonecall, tucking his phone back in his coat pocket. "Sorry there, sounds like someone had some sort of, lynx problem, or some...thing." He was going to introduce himself, but now, there is an elf with a very weird looking smile. He moves closer to Alexander. "Please tell me that's a video game character and this is just an advertising thing." This is directed at Abitha; he caught her comment about Control Pad.

People stream here and there - they don't seem to notice the capering elves at all. Although, actually, when someone takes a closer look at the faces of the other shoppers, they're a little bit blurry and out of focus, blank of emotion. And the conversations and movements seem to hold an artificiality to them, like bored actors going through the same part one too many times. The elves slide and skip through the crowds, giggling; the sound is high-pitched and joyful. The music is faster, and higher: Silent Night as sunk by drunk chipmunks. Alexander's expression goes blank and he beckons August closer as he moves towards Abby and Abitha. " I would, August, but I'm not good at lying. Let's try to get around them. Maybe we won't have to--"

One lunges at him, grabbing his shopping bag and stretching its mouth open wider than anything should - there are rows upon rows of shark teeth revealed and a throat that goes on forever - before latching on to his bag and starting to eat it. "Hey!" Alexander tries to pull the shopping bag back. "I already paid for that!"

Nope. That was the answer. Not that she could really verbalize it. Abitha was frozen to the spot for a long moment, the whites of her eyes growing to saucers as she stares at the capering elves. Abitha was no hero. Abitha had no idea how to even process this. When one lunges in their direction, even if it had been after Alexander's things, this is enough to trigger a final reaction. Pleased to remember she'd worn actual boots today instead of anything heeled, Abitha turns and runs, flat out. Discretion was the better part of valor, and a scream of fear would have just given her away. She just runs.

Abby stands still, shopping in hand, as the elves approach, head pivoting so she can quickly scan the street behind her. She slides a foot back, clutches her things tighter, then flinches, eyes going wide as one of the elves suddenly lunges towards Alexander and starts in on his bags. For a moment, she just stares at the sight, gaze darting down to her own bags before tracking Abitha's hurried departure. Abby doesn't run yet. Abby just starts to back away briskly, loosening her grip on her bags, letting them swing at her fingertips.

"August," he says to Abby and Abitha, on the logic it might be the only chance he gets. His suspicions are proven correct almost immediately. "What the Christ." His first reaction (Alexander will no doubt be glad to see) is to kick the elf in the side, hard. "Fuck off, I've had," kick "enough of violent elves and gnomes." He can't blame Abitha for departing with all due haste; really, it's a wise choice. But after last night, August is very done with this BS.

One of the elves lunges at Abitha, but the game store owner's fancy footwork takes her easily past it, and she can run through the strange, blank-faced crowd members without being hindered. Meanwhile, another elf appears from behind a Christmas tree display, and launches itself at Abby's gift bags. NOM NOM NOM - it grabs a corner in its teeth, and starts chewing its way up the bag, staring up at her with wide, black eyes.

August plants a solid boot in the side of the elf that's eating Alexander's bags - it gives way under his blow as if he were kicking a pile of crumpled wrapping paper. The bag tears, and the elf goes sailing with surprising force into a wall, bouncing off and to the sidewalk. It staggers upright. "Gimmegimmegimme..."

Alexander curses and grabs at the remnants of the bag, before stepping forward and trying the same trick on Abby's elf - but it's learned from example, and it swings around, so that he almost kicks Abby instead. "Goddamn it. Sorry, Miss Reed!"

Abby frowns at the new elf arrival that goes for her bags as she's trying to back away from the scene, not quite whirling fast enough to get out of the way. There are two bags, of course, and she gives them a yank as the thing starts to gnaw away at her Christmas shopping. "Let go!" She demands this. Alexander's swinging kick makes the elf swing about, and Abby yelp as the bag gets tugged along behind it, but at least she's not getting kicked. Or letting go of her hard-earned loot. Instead, she digs into the crafts store bag. The crafts store bag with her new knitting needles. Stab. Stab. Stab.

August watches the elf go flying, surprised. He scowls as it just gets right back up. "Alexander I am this close to setting these assholes on fire." He doesn't resort to conflagration just yet, though; instead, he swings his bags at the elf chewing on Abby's bags, aiming for its head. "So if you have a better idea now's the time."

The elf chewing on Abby's bag sees the woman get out her long, sharp knitting needles and makes a high-pitched "Nuuuuuuuuuuuu!" sound of alarm as she stabbity stabbities at it. Its hands flail upwards, batting the needles away before they can do anything more than scratch it. And then? Bags come down on its head. THUMP. The elf flattens on the sidewalk. Literally goes flat as paper, still making a tiny "nnuuuuuuuuuuuu" sound.

Meanwhile, the other three are circling around, a bit more wary, now. "Gimmegimmegimme," they chatter at the three of them, eyes black and staring. Alexander gestures towards August and Abby. "I think the store owner had the right idea," he says. "Unless we want to give them our shopping. I don't think they want to hurt...us."

Abby has a lot of enthusiasm, but not a lot of skill when it comes to stabbing things with knitting needles. She's only recently taken up knitting, after all. She jerks back as the bags come down on the things head, blinking as it goes flat on the sidewalk below. She takes two quick steps back, glancing around at the other elves from under a tight, focused scowl. "I don't - well, it's not that valuable, I suppose," she mutters with another look down at her bags, separting them so she's got one in each hand. Admittedly, one of them is already badly chewed up and bleeding knick-knacks on the street as she turns heel and starts to hurry off.

August's mouth flattens. Okay, quitting the area probably is the better move. "I just got this for Ellie, these shitheads can't have it." So he follows after Abby, ready to kick, or immolate, anything that earns such an intervention.

Nope. Nope nope nope. When the three try to retreat, the elves move to block them quickly. One plants itself right in Abby's way, hands out for her bags. "GIMME!" Meanwhile, two cut off August's route of retreat. "GIMMEGIMME!"

Alexander scowls. "It's like these things are the worst stereotypes of children from Christmases past," he mutters. And then he really hopes they AREN'T children, because when one tries to make another lunge at Abby's bag, he steps up and this time, it's a nice clean punt that sends the elf sailing through the air like an exceptionally unaerodynamic football. "Okay. They're not gonna let us run, looks like." He glances at August. "You tried, so immunity from any lectures."

Abby stops short as an elf cuts her off, blinking as it flies off with a kick from Alexander. She glances down at the ground around her, still holding her crafts bag close to herself. On the ground, a scented candle (vanilla and nutmeg) and a cat-themed pencil holder. "Go away, or else! This is no way to - you're being naughty, and everyone knows naughty elves don't get presents!" She has decided to admonish the elves, and ready herself to kick the scented candle into the first that comes running her way.

Immunity from lectures, if not Them or Their Middle Management--but whatever. "They seem like they might be made of paper," August says to Abby and Alexander, "so watch out." The subtext here is they might burn really well. And run around while doing it. He pauses, allowing Abby a moment to deliver her lecture. He cuts a look at Alexander. "Maybe try an illusion, if this doesn't work."

He raises a hand, calling up a tear-drop shaped flame with a tint of lavender to it, roughly the size of a volleyball. He aims for the two in front of him, on the logic at least he's the one to suffer the consequences of any screwups, and flings it. And if that doesn't work, well, there's always the old fashioned method.

Those black, featureless eyes swing over to Abby at her admonishment. She said the magic word! "We. Want. Pressies!" And then they stomp their feet! Stomp Stomp! "GIMME PRESSIES!" It distracts them, at least, and when August flings his fireball, they only roll out of the way at the last second, and their hands and feet are singed. "NUUUUUUU!" they shriek, and dance around.

Alexander takes the opportunity to take a deep breath, nod at August, and close his eyes for a moment. Nothing seems to happen, if you're not an elf. But to the elves, suddenly there's a glorious ringing across the street, and a boisterous, Santa Claus voice shouting, "Gifts! Gifts! Free Gifts for all the Elves!" Elf faces turn in that direction, lighting up with greed. "GIMMEGIMMEGIMME!" And off they go, dancing and capering through the crowd at speed. Alexander's expression is blank, holding the illusion. "Walk, don't run. Don't draw their attention back," he murmurs, starting to walk briskly away.

Abby didn't even wag her fingers at the elves, her hands being busy, but she looked terribly disappointed at them. She stares, mouth hanging open as the things start to stop and cry for presents, and her eyes shut tight for a split second. When they open, she looks disappointed. "It never works," the nurse mutters under her breath.

The ball of fire (and August with it) gets the same wary look she had been giving the elves early, eyes darting after it, blinking as the elves start to shriek. She looks on as they seem to lose interest and dance away, brow furrowing. Still, Alexander's suggestion seems sensible. "Oh, fine." She leans down to scoop up the candle, shifting her bags so her goodies don't continue to spill out of the rip, and starts to walk away at a brisk but perfectly normal pace.

August grits his teeth as they flee the splash of the fireball, but the illusion draws them off. He starts moving away at a healthy walk, making sure Alexander and Abby are in front of him. He's ready to set these little twits on fire if he has to. But maybe he won't, now.

Alexander keeps pace with August and Abby - and yes, he sees what August is trying to do, but doesn't make it particularly easy by clearly wanting to take the rear guard position. They walk, and the sound of the tinny music on the speakers changes from chipmunk singing to a pleasant if tinny version of 'Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree'. The background noise changes, too, becomes more real and more varied - the faces around them are real faces. And no more dancing elves. Alexander stops, sighs. "I think we're out of it." He reaches up a hand to rub at his head. "Everyone okay?"

Abby hurries up, quick strides with her bags clutched to herself, one hand wrapping around the handles like she's preparing herself to start swinging it like a bludgeoning weapon of some sort. And off she goes, continuing a few good strides forward even after Alexander stops and speaks up, at which point she turns about. "That was - I'm fine! I'm fine. I'm totally fine. Other than having a mental breakdown of some sort..." She mutters. "That doesn't count. It's fine." She looks down at herself, pushes her shoulders up in a big shrug and flashes a big, big smile. "I'll just be going home to put away my Christmas shopping, I think!"

August slows, takes in a deep breath and lets it out. He inspects his bags. "Yeah." A quick look at Abby, to ensure she's...well, not going to freak out on them. He can see she has Glimmer, but that doesn't mean she's used to it by a long shot. Then he turns to Alexander. "Good job with the illusion. Saw someone do the same thing last night, worked really well."

"Miss Reed," Alexander studies her with a flicker of concern. "You're not having a breakdown. We all saw the same thing." It seems important to him to reassure on that point, even if she wants to ignore it forever. "Uh...do you wanna get some coffee? Talk about it?" He offers her a brief, worried sort of smile. Then turns a little red at August's compliment, ducking his head. He doesn't quite go 'aw shucks', but it might be a near thing. "Sometimes. Sometimes it can work. If they're not as focused on hurting you as they are...whatever. Eating presents, or whatever."

Abby holds her shopping bags in the air in a big expressive shrug. Still smiling, eyes darting between August and Alexander. "Oh, maybe we're all having a breakdown! Mass hysteria is a bit old-fashioned but maybe it's coming back, like - early naughties fashion, that sort of thing," she suggests, then drops one of the bags to her side. The other is too damaged to swing it around, so she just squeezes it to herself. "I'm fine," she assures them, "I should. Maybe another time? Another time! I really should go, though. I'm fine!" She continues assuring them in a very steady and confident and reassuring voice. She's fine! She's fine.

August winces as Abby resorts to the age-old 'mass hysteria', and promptly turns down coffee. But maybe that's understandable, since she just watched August conjure a big old handful of fire and lob it at elves which were trying to eat their Christmas gifts, and clearly isn't up on things. He makes no attempt to stop her, verbally or otherwise, just watches her go. "Well. Next time we run into her, maybe." He turns to Alexander. "They definitely weren't into us, just our stuff. But," he pats his bag, "I had this blanket made special for Eleanor, I'm not letting some evil imp have it."

"Good bye, Miss Reed," Alexander calls after her, his brow furrowed. She'll be fine. Sure. This is fine. But it's not like he can stop her, so he turns his eyes to August, and smiles. "Well, then I'm glad we got out of there without it being damaged." He glances down at his bags, one of which has had its contents eaten. But, only one bag is ravaged, so he tries to be happy about that. "Oh. Uh. Thank you, by the way. For coming by. And bringing the things. And...some sort of bird? It's not a turkey, and doesn't seem to be a chicken. Goose?" Eyebrows go up to see if that's right.

"Goose," August confirms. "Lots of ways to roast them, ignore all the idiots who say it's gross. I know where to hunt up a good goose, and I can point you to recipes on how to do it right." He leans over, frowns at Alexander's mutilated bag. "Need some help replacing whatever was in that?" He might mean financially, but he definitely means moral support as well. Holiday shopping is brutal.

"If it's edible, it's not gross," Alexander says, with the practicality of someone who hasn't often had the luxury to be picky about what he eats. "An...easy recipe would be appreciated." He gives a brief smile. "Um. Sure? It wasn't very good, anyway. I don't...know what to get people. I don't buy gifts often. I have an idea for Isabella. And Itzhak. And you. But that's...about it, outside of alcohol, and," a huff of air, "maybe there's too much of that floating around at the moment." His lips twist in wry sort of smile.

August makes a sound, shrugs. "My brother-in-law Joachim, he does gift baskets. Always gift baskets. He finds interesting food and things to give people, because they'll use it up before next year--so he can always give more--and it's stuff they can't easily get themselves, or wouldn't think to." He raises his eyebrows. "And you can put anything in those. Food, soap, muscle balm, whatever. But," his mouth twists in a wry grin, "maybe skip the booze, yeah." He pauses a second, like he's unsure if he should ask the next part. "Everything okay with you and Isabella? I mean, after..."

"Gift baskets." Alexander's eyes narrow, thinking over the possibilities. And then he has to step aside as a woman gives him a glare for obstructing the sidewalk. He wasn't really blocking THAT much, but he sidles over anyway, hunch shouldered until her gaze passes on and she strides by with a sniff. "That's a good idea. Thanks, August." The question brings his head up. He opens his mouth, closes it. Thinks about it. "I...believe so? She didn't break up with me. So. Yes?" He and August are standing out in a busy shopping area - both have a couple of shopping bags, but one of Alexander's has been torn to pieces, whatever it held lost.

"You're welcome. Just don't be surprised when you get one from me." August winks at Alexander, sobers to consider the answer about him and Isabella. "Well, that's good," he says, nodding. "And," he makes a face, "how's Bennie doing?" His shopping bag is battered and torn, but whatever's in it appears to be soft and bulky, and so not at risk of spilling out in bits and pieces.

How many bags can one person seriously hold? Clarissa is testing that theory as she steps out of one of the shops, nearly obscured by the number of bags on her arms and boxes in her hands. She even has two small shoe sized boxes tucked under each arm. She's wearing a red coat that might as well be a party dress and heels that aren't doing her any favors right now as she stumbles out of the store she was just in backwards since she doesn't even have a hand free to open the door. As she does so, someone who was just about to go in slips past her, "No, it's fine, I'll just stand here holding all this and the door," she snaps and glares. Probably. It's difficult to actually see her expression due to box overload.

From the blink, Alexander is, in fact, a little surprised. But he grins. "I'll try not to faint," he mumbles, as if he's not touched by the idea. "And she's...um. She's being very Bennie about the whole thing, and I'm worried, but--" And then there's the wall of boxes, wait, Clarissa. Alexander recognizes the voice, even if the face is obscured. "Mrs. Robbins? Um, hold on a moment," he says, and hastily moves as if to grab some of her loot. Her precious, precious loot. "Let me help?"

"Yeah, I should see if she wants to spend some time over ice cream, maybe bitch about it to a friendly ear..." August's voice fades as he sees Clarissa step out of a store attempting the impossible. He moves with Alexander to help take some of the boxes, so Clarissa can at least see where she's going. Or, at least, try to. He vaguely recognizes her from the town hall meeting, but has to rely on Alexander for a proper name.

As soon as she hears his voice, Clarissa is more than happy to offload a bunch of boxes--too many boxes most likely--into Alexander and even August's arms with the practiced ease of someone that is used to someone else carrying the load for her, "Thank you, Mister Clayton. One thing this town is in desperate need of is personal shopper assistants," she complains, "Of course it's the time of year when my staff all want time off due to the holidays and I'd be a horrible employer if I denied them, but I have to wonder if they ever think about me out here on my own having to carry all these purchases myself," she adjusts the few bags she has left so she can distribute the weight evenly for herself, "Are you two out here doing your own holiday shopping?"

Alexander smiles at August. "I think she would like that. I wish I knew what to do to make things better for them, but..." He shakes his head and steps up to take boxes - buuuuuut maybe wasn't expecting quite THAT many boxes to be offloaded into his arms, and he grunts a bit as he takes a step back, but he manages not to drop anything. "Maybe...you could just carry a...cart?" he suggests, his voice a little strained. "I mean. Are these even business purchases, or are you talking about having your employees carry your personal shopping?" A suspicious look around the boxes. "Um. August Roen, this is Clarissa Robbins. She's Chairwoman of the Historical Society, and probably didn't kill her husband."

August's sage advice of 'there's actually nothing you can do because it's about them not anyone else' has to wait. He quickly moves to grab a few of the boxes, splitting them between himself and Alexander. "Those foldable carts are really useful for this sort of thing," he adds. "Canvas sided." He pauses in the midst of trying to sort out this purchase situation to stare at Alexander. "Good to meet you, Mrs. Robbins," he says, but his expression telegraphs 'did you say she probably didn't'.

That last comment earns Alexander a very sharp look, "Of course I didn't kill my husband," Clarissa huffs, sounding completely offended and indignant and ignoring his other comments, "Even the inept police department eventually reached the correct conclusion on that. And do you mean those things old people use?" She makes a face, then gestures for them to follow her, "My car is just over here. Weren't you the one at the city hall meeting who had some knowledge of the environmental issues?" She asks August, "The part you reworded was actually very good."

What? Alexander said probably she didn't. He seems confused by her indignant look, and although he huffs a bit, he doesn't rush to defend the police department, either. "There's nothing wrong with using carts, when you are buying this much stuff. They don't really make personal servants anymore," he points out, a bit dry. There's a grateful smile to August as he takes some of the boxes. Although, perhaps it's notable that he shows no complaints in being directed towards the car, and doing the menial labor. "Is this Christmas shopping, or ordinary shopping?"

August relaxes when Clarissa's reaction to Alexander's Oscar contender for most awkward introduction in a film doesn't have her react any more stridently than he's seen her be in the past. If anything, it's almost amusing. He coughs to hide a laugh, ostensibly about old people and carts. "I consider myself an honorary old person," he says, and begins to follow Alexander to the car.

"I was. I used to be in the Forest Service, so it's kind of my thing still." He cuts a look at her. "How's that coming, by the way? I couldn't find anything in the environmental reports to give you some firepower, unfortunately. It all looked solid."

"Sounds like someone doesn't have a butler," Clarissa clicks her tongue at Alexander and presses a button that causes the back of her SUV to open like it's MAGIC! The magic of great engineering, "I think people ought to start realizing that minus an act of god, that casino is going to open. The petition really is just to try to ensure that the owners remain aware that the people of this city can be a real headache for them unless they make attempts at concessions. I'd be shocked if at this point someone could find something to shut it down." She loads her own bags in first and then says to Alexander, "It's a little of both. One of these boxes has gifts in it."

"August owns Branch and Bole, and he's amazing with plants," Alexander says. "If you need plant-based decorations for the Addington House event, he'd be a good person to talk to." Then he blinks. "Wait. You have a butler?" The talk of the casino gets a thoughtful sound. "They just arrested a number of the security staff in connection with the Kruger murders," he points out. "If the cops link that to the casino's leadership, that could do it." He loads her boxes once she's done, only remembering at the last minute to not stick his own in there, as well. Just a shake of his head at how many boxes there are.

A butler, August mouths to Alexander from behind the boxes. He gets to playing tetris as the SUV's hatch opens. "To that end the petition's still useful. Warning them anything could come up at any time. Hell, they shut down fishing on the whole Chehalis recently since the salmon run was so bad this year. Things like that pop up all the time. But, even if it is stopped, the building's done. Letting it sit derelict won't work; the city'll need to do something with it, since no one'll want to pay for demo." He tilts his head, waiting to see what Clarissa thinks about the arrests.

Clarissa gives Alexander a look that's almost disappointed, "Mister Clayton, the owner of that casino has a lot of money. Even if they had something to do with the murders, which you'd need a mountain's worth of evidence to try to prove it and a number of judges in your pocket to make it stick. Haven't you ever watched Law and Order?" She has and that makes her an expert. "And we will need some garland and floral arrangements for the party, so if that's some business you'd be interested in, Mister Roen, I'd like to keep as much as I can local. And of course I have a butler. I'm from New York."

"Sure," Alexander says, a touch morosely. "They have a lot of money because they deal drugs out of their casinos and murder people who get in their way. I recognize that the chances of seeing justice done are low, but that doesn't mean that I can't hope for it." He sighs, and steps back, his gaze drifting over to the storefronts nearby. The word 'deadly' is used, so his attention sharpens and he listens. His eyes widen. "August..." a quick, worried glance to the man.

"Be happy to," August says, nodding at Clarissa. "I'll email you some information, you can let me know what you want." He's mildly amused to see Alexander and Clarissa speak so frankly and openly of the presumed corruption of the casino owners, but maybe he shouldn't be. It's Gray Harbor, after all.

He hears his workplace name said again, half-turns to look at the TV display. For a second he stands there, staring. Starts, pulls his phone out of his coat pocket: a call, from Maria. "Ah, sorry," he says to Alexander and Clarissa, the color draining from his face. "I need to..." He turns and steps away from them, not bothering to look at either, and swipes at his phone to answer. He's not close enough to easily overhear, and his back's to them, but Alexander can see him tense, duck his head.

"Allegedly," Clarissa adds on in a mild tone to what Alexander accuses the casino owner of, "And what do you think they'd do to people spreading those rumors? Though I suppose you have a good excuse," she's heard his weird doll theories! She glances at August as he steps away, seemingly a bit confused but then it does register that the name mentioned on the news is the one Alexander just gave her, "...was that one of his employees?" She asks Alexander in a low voice, clicking another button and letting the back of the car close on its own, as if by ghosts!

"I'm crazy. No one listens to me," Alexander tells Clarissa in apparent agreement - but it's absent. His attention is fixed on August. "Yeah," he says, softly, to Clarissa. "Guy was just married, too. We were at the wedding. It--" his expression goes blank, but something dark stirs behind his eyes. "I'll have to look into this. It...just to make sure that it was actually an accident." From the way he says that, he doesn't really believe it was. But hey, by his own admission, he's crazy.

August comes back a minute or so later, tucking his phone in his pocket. His eyes are a little red now. "Sorry. I should--get going. Maria's gonna need..." He stops, sighs, shakes his head. "Anyways. Alexander," he looks at him directly, and Alexander doesn't need the mind Gift to know underneath the shock and grief August is already harboring doubts, "can we, talk about this later? Because, after the wedding, and you running into that guy..." He can't quite bring himself to say 'this feels wrong' but, well, it feels wrong. James was perfectly healthy, should have had no trouble surviving a car accident.

Clarissa looks a bit skeptical when Alexander immediately jumps to conspiracy theory, but she manages an expression of sympathy towards August, "I'm so sorry, let me know if there's anything I can do," she tells him and seems sincere even though there probably isn't anything she can do. "Anyway, thank you both for the help with the packages. I ought to get going myself."

"August, I'm sorry. Please pass on my condolences," Alexander watches the other man's expression, and his own tightens when he sees the reddened eyes. "If there's anything I can do, let me know? And...yeah." A pause. "I used to go to high school with the new ME, and he's been asking about some stuff. I'll see what I can find out. One way or the other." Because it would be a relief if it turned out that it was just an ordinary horrible tragedy - but this is Gray Harbor, and that's not the way Alexander is betting. A nod to Clarissa. "You're welcome. Don't die, Mrs Robbins." There's a grim note to it, as if reminded just how easy it is to happen here in this town. "Just call me, August. Anytime."

August nods at both of them. "Thanks." His voice sounds a little rough; he's staring at a spot on the ground with a distant expression. Them he blinks, shakes his head. "I'll um, email, about..." About the party he is now 900% in no mood for. But, work. Right. He nods at Alexander, pockets his phone. "I'll call, or...later." Or, maybe give him a mental tap. Or show up at his house. Something. For now, he has to go see Maria, and tell Eleanor, and everyone at work. December officially sucks.