2020-01-22 - More Questions Than Answers

The cold winter certainly has kept the morgue briskly moving, mostly due to natural deaths from over exposure, falling through ice, or other elements that humankind manages to put to best practice through stupidity in action when it comes to winter behavior such as drunk snowmobiling that ends up with the person slamming into a tree. This is what Yule has just finished up, still in scrubs and having just washed up his hands as he heads through the hallway and towards the office that serves as his own little space. There is a touch of tiredness to his features on this particular morning, though nothing too severe. Otherwise? It's ever so quiet down here, nearly serene if one ignores the fact of why the morgue itself exists.

While Alexander isn't the kind to deliberately ruin serenity, he does rather tend to just by his presence. He's bundled in his heavy green jacket, hands in his pockets (although he's carrying what looks like a small briefcase with him, tucked under one arm) as he hesitates. He recognizes Yule in the hallway, and a ghostly sort of smile appears. "Yule. Hey. Busy?" A curious look as he approaches the morgue doors, shamelessly peeking in through the windows at the interior before glancing back at Yule.

It's a brief glance down to the briefcase like package, whatever it is, while Alexander will get a fair chance at seeing the cloth covered body through the windows in the background. "Hey Alexander," Comes his warm tones, his head dipping into a friendly nod towards the other fellow. "Just wrapped up. Finishing up the official paperwork can wait a little bit. What's up?" That green coat is soaked in, along with his hands in those pockets, and his brow furrows in consideration before the question spills out without a second thought given to it. "You have the same perpetual cold that Isabella has?"

Alexander's eyes widen in momentary surprise. Then he smiles. "Of course, she would have said. Yeah, I had it, but we've both gotten over it, now. It only lasted as long as the injuries from the lost place - she got hurt worse than I did." He frowns, and his hands come out of his pockets. He rubs at one with the other. "Both times. We went over with Anne, and she got broken ribs. There were evil dolls." A grimace, and then he's slinking his way closer to Yule. "How are you doing, though? Everything okay?"

"That's good at least. It felt like," A beat of a pause as Yule considers, his head tipping both ways before he finally murmurs, "a virus that spread through glimmer usage. I could feel it trying to get to me when I was just checking her out." A soft grunt comes from him when Alexander gives that litany of issues, one dark brow ticking upwards, "Hope whatever you went over for was worth it. And yeah," Comes his response, a faint flicker of a smile curling to the corners of his mouth, "I'm good. Just been a busy week or two. Keep going over in my mind what I should be looking into next." Once Alexander is coming closer, it's into that small office he heads, just in case some wondering resident meanders by. "What is it that brings you by my neck of the woods?"

"Not...really. Worth it, I mean. Didn't find out any significant facts, although plenty of things that support suspicions." Alexander trails along behind Yule to the office, and takes a seat without needing to be asked. He pulls out a folder, sets it on the desk. "From August Roen. He wanted to see if his medical records could help with some of the research you're doing." A frown. "And yes. Some of the dreams are getting even more...forceful about the use of our abilities, lately. I'm not sure why. Sometimes it seems like they want us to use them, other times...not." He shakes his head. "Patrick thinks we should leave well enough alone," he adds, dryly. "Says that he doesn't use his at all anymore, and hasn't had any trouble. I wonder a bit. About that. If he's onto something."

"August. Yeah, I planned to talk with him. Isabella said he has ideas about how to get a lab under one of the cabins." He murmurs as he shuts the door, before he heads towards the desk. Once he has a seat himself, he reaches out for the folder, though his mind is on the other thoughts Alexander has expressed. "Wonder if use of the powers helps to let them feed... or survive, but they don't want them used so much that we can find out about them. Every force has an equal and opposite reaction, after all... there has to be something that happens to let us do what we do. Some way it is fueled, or the equivalent of a chemical reaction that is given off... fire with heat, ice with cold." It's then he flips it open, but those brown eyes remain focused upon Alexander. "Does it come and go? We have... a lot of people here now. Drawn in, using powers, like a beacon. I wonder if that has happened before, an ebb and flow of usage."

"When we sent Gohl onto to...wherever, he mentioned 'closing this behind him'," Alexander muses, softly. "And since then, our range has been much shorter here in Gray Harbor. August says that the Portland thin spot didn't seem to be affected, though. But it would suggest that there's something environmental that can hinder or facilitate the use of the abilities." He relaxes into the the chair once the door is shut, tracking Yule's movements with an unblinking, near-black gaze. "And there's some variation, but it's mostly seasonal, that I've noticed. Winter has always been hard. Summer is usually better. I don't know if that's just because people tend to be more sad and miserable in winter, though."

Yule's eyes flicker down to the file, all just to give a cursory look before he closes it up, putting it down on top of everything else as a sign he'll be reviewing it soon enough. "Closing this behind him," His features scrunch up, a momentary bit of consideration for it all, before his head just shakes a bit. "There might be different groups Over There with different agendas. And they clearly have agents here," His hand reaches out, curling about a bit of paper, so nice and hand written, before handing it over for Alexander to read. "Apparently, on this particular day I sent in the blood samples to test? The lab I use got swamped, and they sent it to FCN without telling me. I got back this nice, handwritten, creepy note with the results, which were all perfectly normal."

Thank you for using our services! If you have any future testing needs regarding blood samples for remarkable individuals, we welcome your business. Please feel free to contact us at pickup_appointments_only@fcninc.com to arrange pick-up times, and one of our agents would be happy to assist you.

Alexander takes what's offered, and reads it, although his eyes narrow at the mention of 'FCN'. "They were affiliated with the Vivisectionist. After that whole mess, I tried to do some research on them, but couldn't find anything of use. The only FCN I could find on this side is a technology company that doesn't seem to have anything to do with our situation." He grunts at the letter, then moves to hand it back. "Perfectly normal, huh? You think the samples were altered? Or just moved to this FCN so that no one starts to think about Gray Harbor too hard? I told you before - any attempt to put down data tends to go awry."

"If there is nothing there, why go to the effort? And how did they manage to get the lab so overwhelmed they farmed it out... or did they just have someone who made up an excuse." Yule's head shakes a touch, not pleased with it at all as those brown eyes refocus upon Alexander. "Isabella showed me her coin. She's also gotten me a sample of the soup to examine. Maybe they will reveal a few secrets for us to ponder over... or not." He doesn't sound overly hopeful, given all that, a small hmph coming from him for that reminder about the data. "Well. The question is how do they pull the strings Over Here? With a corporation like FCN? Or is that all just a ruse as well. I'm half tempted to email and see what they respond with."

"It's the same with records," Alexander says. "A while back, Byron, Isabella, and I tried to find a copy of the original deed of sale, of when the Baxters sold the Gray Harbor lands to the Addingtons. There was nothing here, so we tried to get in touch with the county and state records' offices. Every time, there was a delay or a diversion. Calls were lost, endless redirections, unusual office closings, everything. Eventually, we were invited to the Other City Hall." He pauses, then laughs, briefly. "Still didn't get a copy of the damned deed, though. Maybe I should go back to looking into that. But my point is that something just...protects any knowledge of Gray Harbor beyond the completely mundane. Some of it is Addington meddling, I'm sure, but they're not this powerful."

"Records that just go disappearing from here is one thing. Dreams happen here. Tears. But when it is other places, well away from here?" That is the part that has Yule stumped and frustrated, a small frown curling against the corners of his mouth as he thuds back into his chair, slumping further down for a moment. "You said that before. The Addingtons meddling, their hand in this. Do you think Patrick is saying to leave well enough alone because that is what they have always done? Or is there merit to it, I wonder." One dark brow arches upwards at something, the mention of that invitation, and that has a soft snort coming from him. "Yeah? How did they invite you, exactly? And was it because you just went snooping for the records long enough?"

"I think the Veil is everywhere. It's just that this is a...thinner? Place. But you can use abilities away from here, if you're strong enough. It's harder, doesn't work as reliably or as well, and some places it barely works at all. But it's everywhere. Almost." Alexander jumps at the thud, his fingers going skittery and fidgeting along his pants. "And I don't know. I don't think so. I'm not...someone who has had much contact with Addingtons," it's a wry observation, "but neither Erin nor Hyacinth seemed to see that as an expectation. And Margaret didn't have any trouble connecting to me at the funeral. I think it's mostly Patrick's thing." To the others, he shrugs. "Just a phone call saying we had an appointment. And yeah, I think it's just persistence."

"I don't know that I look forward to my invitation, if that is the case, given what Isabella has told me of the Vivisectionist," Comes his dry reply, a huff of laughter pushed out as his head shakes just a touch. "Which seems to be whom has their eye on me, if FCN is associated with it. I'm struggling with where to go from here. Items to check out, but I don't know what I'd do Over There now... if it's wise to go over there and experiment now. Well, /wise/ isn't the right word, it probably was never that. But useful." His eyes flicker off to the side, looking through the window to the morgue itself, before he murmurs. "So maybe they, from Over There, are strong enough to get through wherever they want. And somehow they can keep track of everything going on to know just when to interfere."

"If I'd had to guess, then...yeah. I'd say that if you're looking for historical records or things like that, then it's the Archivist who takes an interest. If you're trying to do science, or experimentation, then the Vivisectionist and FCN reach out to you." Alexander frowns. "Which would leave the Collector, maybe, for looking into items or objects of unusual import, and then the Exorcist for ghosts. It might be interesting to look into different things and see who - or what - steps in each time. I gather there are a lot of Departments over there."

"Departments? You make it sound like a whole government bureaucracy. Who runs the Department of Redundancy?" A small, true bit of amusement comes to him for that particular word Alexander has used, Yule's head tipping to the side as he murmurs, "Do you think they all work together, then? No potential, competing agendas? I know the Vivisectionist didn't sound... nice. At all. At least not based upon the list of experiments Isabella gave me." It's a glance back down to that email, his mouth pursing in consideration, weighing that email address again once more. "She thought we should see about having someone hack into their system, maybe. Don't know anyone that could do it, and that I'd trust. Especially given it might put them in quite the wrong sort of danger."

"It is. Or it seems to be. Kinda bizarre one, but yeah, there's a Department of Redundancy department, I think - I don't know who's running it, though. Think we saw copies of ourselves down that hallway, though." Which makes Alexander shiver. "And they do, to some extent. The Archivist got us an appointment with the Exorcist, and delivered items to the Collector. I don't know that they do so perfectly - they seem very...human, for blobfish and severed feet. I imagine there's some sort of office politics." He frowns at the other. "I don't know anyone, either. And I don't know that we know enough to go trying to break in on them, electronically or otherwise."

"Copies of yourself? Like, more than one, or just... your alter-Over-There-ego?" That causes a glance down for a moment, his arms closing in around himself for a moment in dislike of that particular thought, before he finally brushes it aside. "Likely. But they just... let you stroll in and talk to this Archivist? Poke around the weird city hall? Seems awfully... hospitable of them, all said." A soft grunt comes for the last thoughts, and his head dips into a faint nod of agreement, "Probably not. And Isabella didn't like my idea of breaking and entering. Something about," a chuckle of amusement comes from him, those brown eyes lightening in amusement for a bit, "it being difficult to get a few hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of lab equipment out without being seen."

"I'm not sure." Alexander grimaces. "It was just a glimpse. Could have just been a mirror or something. We did see a very small and grumpy August Roen, though. And he seemed to live there. Or at least have enough agency to know his way around?" He chuckles. "It was a weird trip. And I'm pretty sure they control what we see and where we go; each time you go over, the floor plan seems to be different. But yeah, not all of them are...bad? Although I don't think they're good either. Just different." His eyebrows go up. "And I'm glad she disapproved. You make a better medical examiner than a thief, I suspect." He frowns. "But lab equipment is expensive. But partially because, it feels like, we don't actually have any research question or hypothesis, right? It's sort of 'let's see what's there'. Maybe if we narrowed the question down, we could find cheaper and less dangerous ways to test the question."

"I wonder if they have their own copies over here, somewhere," Comes his considered muse, that thought drawing him into a momentary, unfocused thought before a warm bit of laughter spills fourth from the man. "You are quite right, Alexander. I'm fairly sure navigating to wherever they are at would be enough to stump me... let alone getting inside." Yule's features turn into a grimace at those last thoughts expressed, sinking back into his chair as a loud breath is pushed out into a sigh. "Yeah. But how else do we know to narrow down the questions besides experiment and see what works? Looking at the soup and other things might help, give leads I suppose. But right now? It feels like looking at the night sky and figuring out which star we should start looking at first."

Alexander grimaces. "I'm quite certain the world doesn't need more than one Archivist. I'm not sure it needs that one. Even if it's not intensely hostile." He still looks grumpy about something regarding it, although the expression lightens just a little at Yule's laughter. "An appointment could probably be arranged, though. You could ask Anne Washburn at City Hall. I suspect she'd be interested in your research, too." He rubs at a few healing scars on his palm. "If it were me, it'd be a question of utility. What would be the most useful to know. How are the Addingtons and the Baxters connected to the history of the town and why it's so very strange? That's where I started. Sort of."

"Assuming the clones are anything alike, yeah? But, who knows." It's a thought that he gently shoos away with the wave of a hand. "Yeah. Anne and I have talked. She's agreed to help me set up a system for storing research, if we can figure out a way to keep it safe. But if I'm going to poke, I'll probably poke the email first, just to see what gets returned, if anything." A low mmph comes from him, and his head dips into a small nod at that reasoning, "It's where I'd started as well, with the gluminol. Basic, little things to help... but that got into dangerous territory quickly. Being able to infuse essences into liquid... like a healing IV drip or the like, would be useful. Breaking down the items we already have, like the coin and soup are next on the list."

"Good." Alexander brightens. "Just having a way to collect and store data would be immensely helpful." Although his enthusiasm noticeably dims when Yule mentions poking the e-mail. "Just...be careful. I note that's an e-mail for sample pick-up, and we don't really know what counts as samples, or whether those samples have to be, y'know, consenting. You could get kidnapped." He leaves that cheery thought there, before moving on with interest to the next thing. "Breaking down? How?"

"It would," Agrees Yule, clearly pleased with Anne's own enthusiasm and talent in this particular area. "Yeah," he agrees, offering a reassuring smile to the man, "I'd only poke to see if I get a response... not to go meet anyone. Not that brave. Or stupid. Take your pick," Up one shoulder lifts as he shifts the topic, considering just how he'll go about those tasks. "From what Isabella told me about the soup, it quickly accelerates healing. Sort of like one of us doing it, I guess? I figure they had to have used glimmer on it somehow. Made it with glimmer, or took normal soup and altered it, like what I wanted to do with the gluminol. I'll examine it with all the ways I have of probing, just to see if I can detect what they did and how they did it."

"Just be careful," Alexander repeats, stubbornly. "We got that soup because the Vivisectionist inflicted the Veil Flu on us. And giant germs. She did not ask permission. Don't...draw too much attention from her, because of all of the named ones so far, she seems like the most," a long pause, "dangerously capricious. You might get volunteered for something." Stern warning given, he runs one hand through his hair, and nods. "Makes sense. I have some samples, too. And if I can help, let me know? I haven't tried to read the soup or anything, but if you end up needing something like that..."

"I get the need for care," Yule reassures once more, his chin tucking down to flash the other man a knowing look, "And you need to do the same. But sometimes? We have to poke a bit. What if next time that flu is far more deadly, dangerous? We can either just bury our heads, and stop using powers all together like Patrick suggests and hope for the best... or take a few calculated risks." His head dips once Alexander volunteers, and he gives a tip of his head, one hand lifting to rake through his hair. "You can see things with reading it, yeah? The past? Can you control how far back? Like, would you be able to see it when it was being made?"

"I don't entirely disagree," Alexander mutters, "I just don't want anyone to get hurt who doesn't have to." He sighs at that knowing look. "And don't you start. I can take care of myself, Yule. I've been doing it a long time." Grump grump. "As for reading...it depends. I get the strongest emotional impressions associated with the object. There's not a lot of control, when it's really strong. I don't know if it being made is something someone felt strongly about, or if it just rolled over a magical assembly line, somewhere." He plucks at the seams of his jacket, nervously. "I could try it. See. Or try it as you're breaking it down. Maybe something will react."

"All it takes is once, Alexander. And you have people in your life to keep in mind now with the risks you take." This has Yule leaning forward, arms resting upon the desk as he presses against them, a faint flicker of his mouth coming to his features before it fades into something more serious. "I see. Do you have one that you put away immediately after getting it? We wouldn't want to use one that might have been carried about where you could pick up some weird, off tangent thing by accident it happened to be around." It's that pluck that has his eyes narrowing gently, a light frown returning to his features, "But only if you feel comfortable with it. Someone was just telling me this was dangerous, and we should be careful."

Alexander looks like he wants to grump and argue more, staring at Yule with a ferocious frown, before he rolls his eyes. "Isabella got to you, didn't she? Worrying about me, when she dives head first into every blasted thing that comes along." His hands flutter up in fond exasperation. Then, though, he says, "My entire box. I stuck it in the medicine cabinet and haven't really touched it again. I don't really trust gifts from strangers, and supernatural gifts from strangers who choose to call themselves 'The Vivisectionist' not at all." He sighs. "Mostly, I'm just worried that it's like made of the powdered bones of children, or something. There's a lot of murders living in my head," he admits, with a shrug. "But I'm sure it's okay. And if it's not...we need to know that, too."

"If it helps any?" Comes Yule's far too cheerful response, that ghost of a smile blossoming briefly on his features, "I give her the same warnings. And I think you both are going to listen to me equally the same, too." A small grunt comes from him as his head dips into a small nod of agreement, murmuring, "Yeah. And gifts from that particular person, too. Have to wonder what it leaves in you." It's only when Alexander puts forward his own potential thoughts on what it might be made from, joking or not, that one brow arches up, and Yule doesn't dismiss it outright. "Sort of like your soul box, yeah? Well, fingers crossed we find out something about the soup, anyway. Something useful."

"I listen. I may not obey, but I always listen," Alexander says, and then the hint of a grin flickers into life. "And I'd remind you that I'm the elder here. So don't get cheeky." He runs a hand through his hair, again, and the rest is dealt with a bit more seriously. "Yeah. I hadn't thought about what it might take to...enchant these items before Mister Carver mentioned that. But now it's hard not to think about, especially when you say that it does seem to require infusing Glimmer into the object. What if, to make an enchantment permanent, you have to give it everything? That's what I wonder about. But I guess we'll find out. Mister Carver is gone, now, though. I wanted you two to meet. But he decided to be smart and actually leave this town."

"Hopefully it goes well for him. Given how this place pulls people back in?" Comes his thought about Carver, his head shaking just a touch before that smile blossoms a bit wider. "Yeah? You always listen? So, then," A hand lifts, planting itself gently against his cheek to prop against, "How are things going with you two? I hear she's staying at your place for a few weeks." The unabashedly direct question comes without a hint of remorse from the man, before a soft 'mmm' comes from him. "Everything? As in all three aspects, or as in... everything you /have/, in whatever form that is, inside of you."

"I think if anyone can stay ahead of it, it's Carver. And I think he has something he doesn't want to lose, now. Which helps." And then Yule's smile widens and Alexander is instantly wary. His eyebrows go up at the inquiry. He doesn't seem offended, though, and answers, "Yes. Although we might end up having to camp in the living room. I think I'm going to end up giving the bedroom to a friend for a week or two. And we're...okay? I think. I don't really have a lot to compare it with," he admits, with a sheepish little smile. "I like her being there, even when it means coming home to find my cat chasing live crabs around the living room. I'm trying not to," a pause, "expect things. She's going back to England to defend her thesis, and she's only even here in town because of a research contract. Once that's done, she needs to leave."

"And yeah. That's what I mean. The latter. I don't know if such a thing as a 'soul' really exists? But I feel like it's entirely possible that - if it does - you have to invest that much into something to turn it...magic. For long term. I hope I'm wrong. But," he waves a hand, "just about everything about over there is horrible. I can't imagine that enchanting things isn't."

"Don't be silly," Comes Yule's chiding comment towards the man, his chin tucking down to give a peering look towards Alexander. "You don't need to expect things to enjoy them. And trust me, Alexander. You should appreciate it all while you have it. Do you tell her that you enjoy having her around in the house?" Comes the next question, "and do you tell her about these," A beat of a pause, but he calls it like he sees it in the end, murmuring, "fears? About what might happen after she's all done with her thesis? She's a pretty good listener too, you know."

It's the thought of making something permanent that has a soft mmm coming from him, lips tugging downwards. "Anything is possible, I suppose. But I'm not quite ready to buy into that one, yet."

Alexander scowls at 'silly'. "I am not. Being silly. And I am enjoying it. And very appreciative." He crosses his arms over his chest. "And I...think I have? Told her that I enjoy having her around. Surely, I must have. And we have discussed my concerns. She knows that once she's finished with her work, she needs to leave. Not let Gray Harbor drag her down." His expression softens. "She is going to see the world, Yule, and explore all its mysteries. She has what it takes to really make a mark on her field - the intellect, the drive, the passion. I'm not going to let some...small town hookup with a guy who is going nowhere and has nothing to offer distract her from what she really, truly loves. Don't worry about that. She'll be one of the ones who gets out. She doesn't even like using her abilities. If Patrick is right, then as soon as she's away from here, she shouldn't have anything else to fear."

To the last, he just shrugs. "I'm not saying that it's true. Merely that it's possible. Something to watch out for, if you start trying to make these things."

"If you aren't sure," Yule points out, "then she probably isn't either." His mouth purses, a small frown forming at something, but whatever his thoughts? THey are kept to himself, at least today. Mostly. "And you shouldn't be so down on yourself. One, because you aren't, and two, she doesn't strike me as the sort to stick around somebody with nothing to offer her. She might just value things you don't realize." It's the wheels of a cart, the knock on the back door that finally has Yule stirring, a glance down towards the paper work before he offers up, "That'd be something new to take a look at, apparently. I should get back to it. We'll chat again soon, yeah? Go out and get some waffles."

Alexander stands up, practically a full-body twitch that lifts him out of the seat, when that knock on the back door happens. "Yeah, well. I'll try to make it clear." He doesn't clarify whether he means the appreciation, or the need for Isabella to shake the dust of the town from her boots. But he does smile, slightly. "Nice to talk to you, Yule. Enjoy work, and don't die." Then he's turned and is slouching his way towards Bethlehem - or at least towards the hospital elevators and the more public areas.