2020-02-01 - Monopoly (Or Why You Don't Just Simply Tell Your Girlfriend She Gained Ten Pounds)

Alexander and Isabella have been incredibly kind letting Bennie stay here until things get sorts. Easton declared 'Not one more night!' about her staying in the storage locker, and although she tries to stay out of their hair by crashing at the Station when she's able, she's now started her temporary leave of absence with the Fire Department to begin her detox. The first step is tapering down instead of going cold turkey, lest she risk serious medical side effects. Seizures or heart failure are certainly not on her to-do list but she's not yet in full blown withdrawal.

In order to keep her distracted, Bennie suggested a game night, ladening the coffee table with Monopoly and Scrabble and then went to the kitchen to get herself something to eat. And she's been in there a full fifteen minutes, just staring at the label on a package of bagels.

"Oh this is a terrible idea," Alexander tells Bennie, with a certain amount of relish. Is he talking about detoxing with only amateur support? Of course not. He's talking about game night. "Isabella is, I'm told, competitive." And it turns out that he has a small selection of games, including one very nice collector's edition of Clue, tucked away in a closet, as well. But he's one of those freaks who actually likes Monopoly. He's changed out of his outside clothes into the comfy, oversized sweats he favors indoors. The bedroom has been changed for the detox - including locks installed on all points of egress, although Alexander tries not to bring that to anyone's attention. But there's also fresh, clean linens and a comfy blanket.

He notices that the silence in the kitchen is stretching on a BIT long, so he gives Isabella a look, then moves towards the kitchen. "Bennie?" It's his kitchen, so there's no hesitation to wander in and get all up in her business.

Alexander has been warned, repeatedly, by members of the Reede household about one incontrovertible fact regarding Isabella and the family game night - it is absolute carnage. From Battleship, to Monopoly, to even Jenga, the archaeologist has been raised in a clan who takes relish in sabotage and all manner of dishonesty in an attempt to secure the win. It was just the Reede way of turning the simplest of boardgames into competitions of blood and tears. This is quite possibly one of the many reasons why she has grown up to be the way she was.

Fortunately, in 13 Elm, this is the Clayton household, not the Reede household, so presumably Alexander and Bennie are safe. Presumably.

"Alright!" the archaeologist crows, triumph in her tone nevermind the fact that they've yet to start. She rolls up her sleeves in an exaggerated fashion and wiggles her fingers towards her companions. "I spent half an hour with the stress ball to warm up my dice throwing hand, my body is ready."

Oh god.

But with Bennie taking a little bit too long in the kitchen, she exchanges a look with Alexander, and as he moves off, she leans from where she's situated by the coffee table, curious eyes peering into the open entryway of the kitchen.

Alexander is met with a confused look from Bennie, "Sorry, sorry. I'll be right there." That same looks is given back down to the package before the blonde just rubs her forehead and puts it back where she found it, apparently abandoning the idea of making one for herself because she can't figure out something as simple as a bagel when her head is hammering like that. "Get it together, Oakes." She mutters to herself. Normally this is when she'd plaster on a smile and head back out in the living room, but there is no reason for pretense around the pair of her friends. Not now.

"It's okay. We're not on a schedule to get trounced by Isabella." And yes, he says that loud enough for the archaeologist to hear. He slides by her to grab a glass and pour some apple juice for himself. "Anyone else want anything?" he calls to them both. If anyone answers in the affirmative to that, then their drink is brought as well when he returns to the living room and takes a seat on the floor around the coffee table. "Try to be gentle with us, Miss Reede. Remember that we're only playing for pride, not money." A flash of a grin. "Unless anyone wants to play for candy or something. I could probably find some, somewhere." It wouldn't be edible, but it's probably THERE, in a cabinet, lost and forgotten.

"It's no fun if neither of you fight back, though!" Isabella calls from the living room. "And I'll just have a coffee?" Code for how she intends to work after the games, hence why she's not reaching for the scotch at this very moment. Bennie gets a glance upwards when she returns, her smile an encouraging one. "Do you need aspirin or anything, Bennie?" she wonders - she doesn't have the medical training to diagnose most things accurately, but she does sense her biological distress. She hasn't perfected the art of filtering out external extrasensory stimulus just yet.

As Alexander settles near her on the floor, she takes her coffee and busses his cheek lightly. "Candy? Do you have a secret candy stash?" Her grin tilts upwards mischievously. "The things I learn about you, Mister Clayton."

"What I'm gonna need is some antacids to be able to stomach how cute you two are together." Bennie says in a sing-song voice of teasing as she comes back into the living room, cracking open one of the cans of cola she bought along with some of her other favorite staples so as not to deplete Alexander's own groceries with her presence. But instead of just glossing over the offer of medicine to help her discomfort, she for once acknowledges it. "It's only a dull throb now but aspirin might stave it off? Really, the worse is fighting the urge to just pop a pill." But Alexander has been given the entirety of her stash and she wrote out a schedule of how they're to be tapered off over the next few days. The worst of things will come in about five days when the dosage is a big fat goose egg.

"I'm not cute," Alexander says, immediately. "Isabella is cute. And I'm willing to accept that, in conjunction with her, there might be some cute elements. But only a few." Then he gives Isabella a look. "Oh, I'll fight back. I assure you of that. I throw a game for no one." She's not the only competitive person at the table - sorry, Bennie! He just shrugs about the candy stash. Maybe he does. Maybe he doesn't!

"I get to be the little dog," he says, as he starts to set out the Monopoly board. His gaze rests on Bennie, though. "Let me know if it starts to get too much. I can tamp it down a little, here and there. Both the physical and the mental."

"He's sweet to assign me the burden of all the cuteness in the relationship but no, he's absolutely adorable," she tells Bennie, every contrary and oh-so-casually. "The ice shipwreck out in the backyard is all him. Anyway, you might think that now, but that's only because it's day one. You should have heard us yesterday arguing about scientists, it's probably the only couples debate in the history of the world that'd put people to sleep." Isabella winks at Bennie at that. "If that's the aim, though? No pills."

With the board set up and the dog called immediately, there's a mock-glower over at Alexander, before she reaches out to pluck one of the small Monopoly pieces. "Racecar, then. So you can eat my dust." Mention of the tamping down has her looking up to the investigator and then to Bennie.

"I dunno. Even that sounds miiiiiighty cute." Bennie decrees of their intellectual debate as she pulls a throw blanket around her shoulders and tucks up her knees. "We'll hold off on the juju until the worst of it. I can muster through for now, no need to go tinkering about in my brain meats just yet, silly risk for a bit of discomfort. But I totally reserve the right to change my mind." Her nose wrinkles at the remaining choices. "Parker Brothers really needed to come up with some more feminine playing pieces other than an iron and a thimble. Seriously, this game is totally sexist. I'll the top hat, I guess. Imagine a little feather in it or something to make it more fashion forward."

Alexander rolls his eyes at the continued characterization of cute. "You're both skewed in your thinking," he mutters. Then grins at Bennie. "I like the top hat. It's my second favorite choice. And, as you are the guest and the owner of the game, you should get first roll." He hands her the dice, before glancing back at Isabella, with a teasing smile. "The last time you faced off with me with a car, it didn't end well for you, you know."

"I think everything automatically becomes more fabulous when there's a feather in it," Isabella tells Bennie in agreement as she hands the blonde paramedic her top hat. "How's E doing? I haven't talked to him since the last time we shut down TIBS together about...a week and a half ago?" She also grins when she gets the dice. "House rules, like the man of the house dictates. Guests always go first."

She totally just made that up.

And then Alexander brings up her shameful defeat and she laughs. "Consider this the night I'll be balancing the scoreboard between us, Alexander Clayton. Just because you picked the cute puppy before I got the chance to doesn't mean I'm going easy on you. Boardwalk and Park Place are mine."

"Some how I am picturing this game ending with Alexander fanning himself with money and you trying to shove hotels down his throat. And it couldn't make me happier." Who doesn't love a little carnage with their Game Night. "Easton's good! Well. He's okay? I mean, he seems as committed to bettering himself for himself as I do the same. He's been really good about keeping clear of the hard stuff as a constant and keeping sober at work. But if you guys could check in on him while I'm laid up with this? He needs a support system too." Which Bennie just can't be right now, and she feels entirely guilty about that. "Man, if he were here, he'd totally rig the dice." She takes up the little cubes and gives them a shake, declaring a, "Six!" As being rolled. It's clearly a five.

Alexander says, "Boardwalk and Park Place are a mug's game," Alexander claims, loftily. "Even if you get them, you'll never manage to beat a properly diversified property portfolio." He winks at her, before settling back and nodding. "We can check in on him. He's a good man, and a good friend. And it's hard to stay something like sober in Gray Harbor. Especially if you have anything your past you don't like to think about very much." He sighs, rubs at his forehead. But the darker turn of his thoughts doesn't stop him from saying, "That's a five."

Ohhhh. He's gonna be one of THOSE players."

"If that's how this game's going to end, I'm fine with it. Even if I lose, I win," Isabella tells Bennie with a laugh. "And yeah, we'll keep an eye on him, too. He told me a bit of his plan and he seems like he's doing good on it. He's a good man..." A nod to Alexander at his exact comment. "But he's also terrible by the way. Making me eat potatoes, how dare he. I swear to god a night hanging out with him and suddenly I'm twenty pounds heavier. My poor wetsuit."

It's all fake grousing, and she laughs again as she tosses a pillow right at Alexander. "Yeah, well, I'll mug your face. Keep talking that way and I'll tell Byron all about this conversation. Me? I like being the wildcard." She winks back at him, but there's gleam in her eye - the face she wears when she's about to act on some degree of inspiration or kick a door down. His comments do end up putting a more sober look to her, but she attempts to gloss over it by exclaiming, in tandem, "That's a five!"

She leans forward in an exaggerated fashion towards Bennie, looking like a cat that's about to bat all of her things off the table. And proceeds to do just that, and nudges the top hat back one square. She ends up grinning brightly, though, and presses an exaggerated air kiss towards Bennie's direction. "Your turn, Alexander."

"Oh, he's not going full sober." Bennie says simply as she leans forward and blinks at the dice as Alexander claims a different number than she though, blinking owlishly at the pips and counting them again. And again because she still got six. Right. Only five. Honest mistake. She's mouing a little frown as she leans back. "He's just trying not to use it as a crutch so much. But yeah. It's going to take work. Hard work. Do you guys have the rule you can't buy anything until one time around the board 'cause if not, I'm totally buying that railroad."

"Whatever works for him," Alexander says, in neutral tones. "Either way, it's still a good thing." He grins at Isabella's laughing comment. "There's nothing wrong with potatoes, you know. And you didn't gain twenty pounds, so don't pretend that you did. Only," he pretends to think about it, his eyes going up and down her, "ten. Tops. And they are beautiful pounds. Also, we can never play this game with Byron Thorne. He will end up with everything in the bank."

He takes up the dice and tossed them. Three. He bounces ahead. "I don't see why we can't buy things immediately. Monopoly is long enough already. And I want that purple property."

"I think the most important part is that he's doing this for himself," Isabella says regarding Easton. "And nothing worth having or keeping is easy, anyway. Just means the two of you are investing in yourselves, speaking of diversified portfolios." The grin from Alexander has her smiling back, until he claims she gained ten pounds, which leaves her gasping and for a moment she actually looks legitimately horrified. "What?" She tries to look around herself, craning her neck over her shoulder in an attempt to look at the state of her rear end. "Did I really? But I've been running every day!"

And it must be her distress fueling it, because when it's her turn, she takes the dice and tosses it, and lands a twelve. Her racecar jumps twelve squares and lands on the Electric Company, and shells out her one hundred and fifty dollars for it. "Well, I'm taking the plunge and buying this utility company. Opportunity waits for no one, my friends."

"OOOOooooOOOh no you did not, Alexander Clayton. If she kills you, I'm totally helping her hide the body with zero remorse. I mean, I'll plant flowers on your grave every year, totally, but if we get caught I will absolutely testify that it was justifiable homicide and the jury will agree." Bennie hands over the cards for the properties they bought, and when she rolls again she immediately lands on the utility that Isabella just bought.

"You get a pass this time if you help me hide the body," Isabella deadpans towards Bennie, and offers her a high-five.

"What?" Alexander gives them both a genuinely baffled look. "I don't see what I just said was worth killing anyone over." He grump grump grumps," and makes his roll, landing on Bennie's railroad. HARUMPH. He passes over the money. "You're not overweight, Isabella. Even if you gained twenty pounds, you wouldn't be overweight." He seems to think this will honestly help put the concerns to rest.

Bennie totally high-fives to that, despite Alexander's grump.

She groans dramatically at Alexander's harrumphing, flashing Bennie a this is what I have to live with look. "Alexander, I love you. Very much. So what I'm going to tell you now, I hope you'll remember because it'll probably save your face, if not your life, one day, but the weight thing is definitely one of those conversation points where you just smile and nod and say absolutely nothing." Isabella rolls her head back and presses her hand against the side of her face. "It's definitely not about whether twenty additional pounds would put me over and everything to do with wanting to fit into the clothes I do have." And now she's poking a little bit at her pajama pants, frowning at it and wondering if it does feel tighter around the hips. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE??

She rolls her dice again and lands on a... "Oooh, Community Chest." And reaches for a card...

"...Doctor's fee, pay fifty bucks?!" Another dramatic groan, passing the bill over. "Story of my life, these days."

Bennie has started gnawing on her thumb nail, chewing off little slivers with her teeth. "Mm." She squeaks as Isabella warns him about the finer points of not mentioning a girl's weight. "That and her age. Never ask a woman's age or guess it either. Unless your guess is a gross exaggeration like: really? This is your daughter? But you could be sisters! Or, you couldn't possibly be old enough to drink, Bennie! Basically, either lie or be silent on those two points." And she's completely lost track that it's her turn.

"That makes no sense," Alexander points out, bluntly. "If you didn't want to talk about it, why mention it?" He looks to Bennie for support, here, and is clearly deeply disappointed by her response. "This is all nonsensical. It's basic information, mostly publicly available. I can find out either of your birthdates without hardly breaking a sweat. Asking is just being more forthright about it, and saving both of us some time." He reaches for his juice, takes a swallow, and adds, "Your turn," to Bennie. And, after a moment, continues, "And make it a good one, because Isabella is pasting us already."

"I hate to break it to you, Alexander, but people lie about their height and weight all the time while filling out their driver's license applications and doctor forms unless they're actually there to get such things measured," Isabella replies, her tone as dry as a desert. "So even if you did find those publicly available bits, they might not actually be accurate. You'd probably have better luck with age, though, because it takes a very special person or an incredible set of circumstances to forget their birthdays, unless they were adopted. Plus nobody likes being told that they're...expanding!" The last is stated with an exasperated laugh.

And the argument will probably continue from there, because the archaeologist is determined to make the investigator understand why boyfriends don't just tell their girlfriends that they've managed to get ten pounds heavier from the day they started dating, and Alexander will probably protest that collecting exact data is important. The game continues in the midst of all the noise but it does end with Bennie tucked warmly into bed in the one functional bedroom in the house, and the other two sharing the couch.

...which probably won't help Isabella's self-consciousness at all because they'd probably fit better on it if she was ten pounds lighter, and he gets to hear about it for the rest of the night until he silences her, possibly with a pillow until the flailing stops.

[FS3 Rolls] All That Running (a NPC) rolls 4 (8 7 5 4 1 1) vs Scream After Checking The Tape Measure (a NPC)'s 4 (6 4 3 3 3 2) Marginal Victory for All That Running. (Rolled by: Isabella)

DISASTER AVERTED