2020-01-15 - Contraband

(TXT to Alexander) Enzo: where is my beer

(TXT to Enzo) Alexander: Aren't you in the hospital? Are you allowed to have beer?

(TXT to Alexander) Enzo: I'm a grown man, if I want to drink beer in the hospital, I can

(TXT to Enzo) Alexander: I feel like you've been gone long enough to have forgotten what our nurses can be like. But I'll bring you by a beer.

(TXT to Alexander) Enzo: Cool. You're a good friend, guy that I kind of know.

(TXT to Enzo) Alexander: You tackled a killer doll for me. Least I can do.

(TXT to Alexander) Enzo: I really thought I could take her, she was only like 4 feet tall

(TXT to Enzo) Alexander: And wearing the skin of other people. That usually adds at least three feet to the threat calculation.

(TXT to Alexander) Enzo: Yeah, that's a good point. Did she take our hair? Or am I just embellishing an already horrible scenario?

(TXT to Enzo) Alexander: I am pretty sure hunks of our hair ended up in their hands, yes. One of them tried to take my teeth.

(TXT to Alexander) Enzo: Your TEETH?

(TXT to Enzo) Alexander: Yeah. Tiny doll hands in my mouth. Not cool.

(TXT to Alexander) Enzo: I hope you have good dental.

(TXT to Enzo) Alexander: Ha. No. But anyway. ::beer emoji:: Prefer any particular brand?

(TXT to Alexander) Enzo: Maybe THEY were the dentists, ugh. And usually but not now, currently preferenceless.

(TXT to Enzo) Alexander: All right. OMW.

Enzo is one of the many rooms with nice windows that overlooks the town. He is not happy to be there, if the uncomfortable expression on his face is any indication. He looks like a man that was severely beaten up by several other large men and not by many small homicidal dolls with the name Jill that just wanted to be his friend. Friendship is clearly overrated. Also someone shaved his hair because it looks better that way versus chunks of it removed from his scalp. Life is hard.

Alexander has a wool cap on, even inside the hospital, to hide the fewer hunks that have been pulled out of his scalp. One hand is bandaged, and he moves stiffly, bruised, but is clearly in much better shape than Enzo. He appears in the doorway, with a bundle that looks like maybe he brought extra clothes for him or something like that, but once he's inside, he reveals the bottle of beer - a local microbrew from Seattle - and pastries from the very nice local pastry shop. He puts them down on the bedside table. "There you go." He turns and studies Enzo with a frown. "They really did a number on you. How are you?"

The arrival of a person prompts Enzo turn his attention away from the dreary winter outside, the moves to sit up a bit and get his bearings under him. "Yes... Thank you." This will go well with whatever they've probably given him for the pain, surely. "Yeah, they were a lot tougher than I thought they were going to be. I'm not sure why I bother going to the gym or practice when I could just transform into a murderous children's toy and be way, way stronger. Other than the obvious, fine." He cracks his knuckles and turns on eye on Alexander in return, "What about you? How did the girls make out?"

"Transforming into a murderous child's toy actually solves fewer problems than you might think on first glance," Alexander says, moving to take a seat in one of the visitor's chairs. "For one, you'll never reach that high shelf." A flicker of a smile. "Isabella broke some ribs. She's shaken up, unsurprisingly. Anne is here. Looks like she got a nasty slash from the saws while they were away from us." He frowns. "I'm sorry. That you all were hurt."

"You're probably right and I need to buy a whole new wardrobe to outfit myself, sounds like trouble." Nevermind the murderous aspect of the entire situation. Enzo grimaces at the explanation of what happened with Anne, "That's terrible. I thought I heard the saws and screaming as they were kicking and hitting me. But it was kind of all a blur, you know?" He should! He was there. "Don't be sorry, everyone going in knows that it sucks there."

"And really, where will you find a tailor willing to meet the particular needs to make murderous dolls fashionable again? You're right. Best to keep the body you have, even if tiny homonculi can beat you up." Alexander's hands twitch and fidget along his thighs. "It is terrible. Both the injuries, and just the other side in general." He frowns. "And I'm not certain we learned anything useful. Jill Baxter disappeared on the day Elvis died, which was a Tuesday. But why? She's the dolls in the shop...but did she do that to herself, or did someone do it to her? If so, who? Or what? And why did it have such an impact on the Veil? People die all the time."

"My natural inclination to scalp and de-tooth the tailor would probably result in me being blacklisted as a customer," Enzo adds on gravely. Then he tries to stretch, but the stretching hurts all of the parts of his body that are injured. So he sort of grunts and mumbles to himself, reaching for a pastry. "I don't know. I have sort of a vague understanding of the intricacies of these things, but couldn't she have walked into the Veil, died there and...? The doll shop was made around her? Twisted her... soul? Or something? They really didn't like when August blew that door to a million pieces." He takes a bite and says, "But I guess I'd feel that way if August tried to blow up one of the doors in my apartment."

"Maybe," Alexander allows - more likely to the point about dying. Getting blacklisted for trying to scalp a tailor is a certainty. "But it remains curious, doesn't it? People get lost and die...not all the time, but often enough. But this death, or soul twisting, remains strong decades later." He purses his lips. "I think it's because she's a Baxter. But I don't know why." Then there's a chuckle. "It is rude. To blow up doors. A lot of the Dreams people have been pulled into have been punishing--attacking people for using their abilities. It seems to be a theme."

"It liked her or wanted to torture her, because of what she was? So it held onto her. But is everything in there terrible? Those little creatures we saw around Christmas, they weren't so bad. Just trying to make their way without getting their asses kicked and eaten." Oh, the darling little Octopi. Enzo exhales and then furrows his eyebrows, thoughtful before shrugging. "Hell if I know. Maybe it's making a point. Stop using them?"

Alexander's brow furrows. "No. Not everything is terrible Over There. The octopi were...yes, they seemed okay. I guess it's possible they secretly survive on the brains of innocent children, or something. But there's a difference between the Veil, and the places where things try to murder us. I'm not sure we were at the actual Veil carousel, as opposed to a Dream that was just...wearing its face. But, again, I don't know much about making the doors between the sides." He peers with interest at Enzo. "I don't know if you can open a door into a Dream."

"I hope not, that would be really aggravating." Enzo would not be amused if the octopi were eating the brains of children, that wouldn't be okay. "There is? The Veil vs Murderous Places seems kind of- I don't know either, I mean, Anne did open the door? And we went through? Unless that act of opening the door was all some sort of illusionary mindfuck." He looks down at his hands like he doesn't appreciate the implications of what he just said. So he grabs beer and manages to crack it open against the side of the hospital bed along edge of a metal rail. "That was not my best trip."

"It would. But I don't think they are. Some things seem fine. There's a City Hall over there, and the people there are -- bizarre, but they don't seem hostile at all." Alexander shrugs. "But it's hard to say that I'm not skeptical about things that I meet, until proven otherwise." He falls silent as Enzo cracks the beer, but it's only briefly, before he says, "Do you go over often?"

"Bizarre? I could see that. The whole place is kind of..." Well. Enzo ends up painfully shrugging his shoulders as he takes his first drink of the beer he defintely Should Not Have. "That's probably for the best. I mean, I kind of feel like that's a useful regular life skill. You never know when someone is full of shit. Why would that be different in there?" He drinks from the bottle and stares up at the ceiling for closing his eyes and then re-opening them, trained on Alexander. "I used to before I left for college. A little since I came back. I don't know- I feel like... it's the worst idea. But it feels good to be able to do it. Hard to explain."

"Fucked up," Alexander contributes, tonelessly. "It's really fucked up." He grimaces. "But what isn't? And...yes. Better to be a bit wary of people you don't know." Speaking of, he stares at Enzo for a long moment, watching him drink the beer as if waiting for him to start convulsing or something. There's the flicker of that smile again as Enzo elaborates. "The worst idea but feels good to be able to do sums up our abilities rather handily, I think. Don't go over there alone, if you can manage otherwise."

Helpfully, Enzo does not begin to convulse or transform into a horrible monster here in the hospital room. Which would be super unpleasant for just about everyone involved here. He replaces the bottle onto the little table and glances to the door, keeping an eye out for any nosy nurses. He almost manages a smile for that reply, "Yeah. It's not as easy to find traveling companions as you'd imagine. Especially not with uh..." he gestures to himself. "Such fine advertising."

"It is hard to sell most people on the prospect of horrible death at the hands of dolls. Or other monsters." Alexander chuckles, briefly. "Isabella, August, and I are usually persuadable." He smiles. "It could be argued that we're not very bright. Or just self-destructive." A shrug. "Still. We're available." A pause. "You promised me autographed books. By the way. Just a reminder."

"Good to know," Enzo replies with a half managed smirk. "I'll keep it in mind for the next time I decide to go wandering on in there- oh, the books." That manages a half laugh from him. "Yeah, I did promise that. I'll get them to you after I get home. I'm going to leave today." It doesn't really look like he should be leaving todday. But he's a grown man, surely no one can stop him from discharging himself.

Alexander doesn't try to hide his skepticism. "You should stay at least another day." A thoughtful look at him. "Or two. Possibly three. As embarrassing as it no doubt is to have been hospitalized by dolls, imagine how much worse it would be to be sent BACK to the hospital because you failed to take care of yourself and heal the first time." He sighs. "But it is your decision. I imagine."

"Maybe," Enzo says on his need for hospitalization. "But I fucking hate hospitals. I don't like how they smell, I don't like the other people in them. I don't even like the lightbulbs." This sounds like a real personal hang up that he has here. He's probably going to discharge himself too early or escape out the fire exit (and accidentally set it off). "Yeah. Anyway, hey, thanks for the beer and the pastries."

"I hate them, too," Alexander says. "So I can't blame you. But if you end up messing something up, you'll just be back again. Still," he shrugs. "Your choice." At the thanks, he rises to his feet. "You're welcome. Have a good recovery, and try not to die until you're out of here, at least." A hint of teasing there as he starts to move towards the door. "Let me know if there's anything else you need that you're not supposed to have. I don't mind enabling poor decisions." On that note, he leaves.