2020-02-29 - A Third First Meeting

It's a bright, clear, cloudless day, but bitterly cold, with a gentle wind to add just a hint of windchill. Honestly, Spring can't come soon enough.

August is in Espresso Yourself, nursing a cappuccino and theoretically working on his next book while in reality just staring outside and enjoying the warmth, physical and otherwise, of the cafe. He's taken a few days off work in the wake of the strange junkyard Dream (plus another event that he's been generally reluctant to discuss save for that it seems to involve numerous long, thin cuts all over his neck). His tablet is open in front of him, the page half-filled with text, but he's not paying attention to it in the slightest.

Coooold. Why is it still so cold? It should be practically Spring by now! This is not one of Aidan's favourite Februaries so far. He's trying to cheer it up by wearing a calf-length coat quilted of myriad colours and patterns of fabric in apparently random-sized patches, except for the white stars appliqued equally randomly over things. A thick brown velvet rope-like trim capped by a fluffier golden one attempts to bring everything together by limning the hem, cuffs, and collar. It looks like he might have escaped from a relatively low-rent performance of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat. He's wearing it over black jeans, with a honey-coloured sweater covered in crushed golden sequins that end up looking a bit like shiny crinkled paper. The neckline says it's a woman's sweater; Aidan apparently says it isn't.

It has not entirely worked; he looks like whatever's on his shoulders is heavier than the clothing right now, as he pushes in through the door, glancing up toward the menu as he walks and glancing around only listlessly. It's enough to catch August, though, and he blinks once, then musters up a smile for him, even if it's not his best one ever. "Hey."

August can't not notice that outfit. Well, maybe he could, and if so today would be that day, but he does notice, and so gives Aidan a small smile of his own. "Hey." He sets down his cappuccino, studies Aidan for a bit. "Did you, ah," he gestures at the other seat at the table, "wanna join me? I know we haven't formally met, but..." His voice fades, suggesting that after a few Dreams together maybe it's time they remedy it. (Especially that last one.)

Quite a few people seem to notice the outfit. Aidan doesn't really seem to notice that, but he's probably used to it. He does brighten a touch farther at the invitation, though, and glances from August to the counter and back. "Yeah, thanks, actually," he says, "Just-- one sec." Because he does not yet have coffee, and that really needs to be fixed.

It doesn't take particularly long to do so, just a couple minutes before he's back, slipping into the opposite seat with a whipped-cream-covered mocha and an unreasonably large banana-nut muffin and, if August says 'yes' when he gets a "Hey, do you need anything while I'm up here?", whatever that might be too. A glance briefly takes in those many long, thin cuts as he settles. "Are you doing okay?"

August shakes his head at the offer, indicating his still untouched muffin and cappuccino. "Thanks, though," he says, and shuffles things so there's more room at the table. He flips his tablet shut, sets it aside.

He rubs at his neck self-consciously. "Yeah, I ah...it was just another one of those, things, of Theirs." He makes a face. "Just annoying, for the most part. Should heal up in a few days." He sips from his cappuccino, glances at Aidan over the rim of his mug. His expression shifts. "How about you? How you, ah," he looks into the coffee, "holding up."

Hey, never know! August could be Inexplicably Hungry today. Aidan doesn't look particularly shocked that he isn't, though. "Another of those," he says with a nod, seeming to accept the idea that it'll heal itself soon enough, except that he does end up looking at it again. It's hard not to be tempted to fix something one probably can. Instead, he rips the top off his muffin, and a piece off that top, watching it instead of August for a moment at the question. "Um. Okay, I guess. It's kinda not... my favourite month so far." The bite-sized muffin piece gets eyed instead of immediately eaten. Suddenly a little less hungry, perhaps. A shake of his head, and he puts the food into his mouth, looking up again as he chews and swallows. "You, though? Aside from that? And, also, hi. Did I ever remember to say I'm Aidan? Kinney."

The lines are thin, almost like papercuts, and are fairly extensive, especially on his hips and arms. Fortunately they seem to have missed the places they'd be the worst to get, so that's something. Like any paper cut, they're more annoying than anything else. he could easily put it down to an ill-advised trip through a porcupine tomato vine, if he had to. And if there's anything he can relate to, it's a desire to heal someone when it's possible, though of course, they've both had a brutal reminder of why it's not the best idea. So goes life in Gray Harbor.

"Yeah, mine neither," he murmurs, watching the muffin as Aidan dismantles it. He clears his throat, offers his hand. "August. Roen. Good to meet you, Aidan. Sorry it wasn't under, ah, better circumstances."

Probably unwise in a coffee shop, even if the wounds are relatively minor to see. Maybe it's the combination that helps resist the urge to at least offer, right now. "Nice meeting you for real," Aidan says, shaking the offered hand, and he manages a better if brief grin, there. "...yeah, though, better circumstances would've been... better." He makes a face, partly at the memory and partly at the phrasing, and hesitates as if debating whether to say something more about that last circumstance in particular. But there is, at least, muffin, and he has another bite of that for now instead. "Were you looking for anything special at that sale or just kinda looking around?"

"You too," August says, and manages another small smile. His grip is firm and friendly, his hands calloused from years of working with them. There's a sense he recognizes the reluctance to talk about what happened, even lets Aidan know he knows it, but makes no attempt to push.

He shakes his head. "Nothing in particular, really I was just going out of habit. We didn't have a lot of money growing up, so we did a lot of thrifting. Though with the way that fight was looking I doubt there'd have been much left to find." He arches an eyebrow. "You?"

Aidan's hands are smoother; he's had fewer years to work up calluses and less suitable work to do it, though there's the fainter feeling of fading ones there. SOME suitable work, at some point. It's a decent handshake, though one that seems more naturally friendly than businesslike.

He smiles a bit in spite of himself at the mention of the fight, and shakes his head. "That robe was kinda cool." He's not quite sure what happened to it: he was holding it when things went fraught, and never saw it again. "But, yeah, nothing in particular. I never had a lot of money either and thrift stores and yard sales have mostly the best stuff anyway." He gets around to a sip of his mocha, and immediately looks like he kind of wishes he'd put it off just a little longer, taking a bite of the whipped cream on the top to cool off his mouth and looking slightly sheepish.

August gestures with his cappuccino. "Precisely, like, where else am I gonna find a good price on near-mint records, or books that've been out of print for twenty years? Not on Amazon, that's for damned sure." He has a sip, sits back in his chair. "Everything was pretty picked over by the time we got out, I figure." Or maybe he's telling himself that to feel better about it, since he walked straight back to Eleanor's place and hid in the bathroom with his set of keys he found.

He studies Aidan a moment, then asks, "How long have you been...dealing with this sort of thing?"

Aidan nods firm agreement with the question about the records and books, mouth quieted with another portion of muffin, and slightly less definite agreement with the theory for when they got back. "You do wanna get there early for most of the best stuff. Even if there isn't someone there trying to make it not get sold in the first place. Which-- I mean if they were actually right I'd kinda feel like a dick if I bought stuff they didn't want sold, you know?" Probably true; likely also something he's telling himself to feel okay about heading right back to his place and hiding in the bed again. Those covers are getting a workout this month, and not the fun one.

The question has him pausing with the cup near his lips, and he takes a smaller, more tentative and less regrettable sip before replying, "Kinda depends which you mean by this sort of thing. But... I guess as long as I can remember's probably right either way? The, uh," he wiggles his fingers, "well, spark? The first I remember anything clear for sure I was like five, but I don't think that was actually first." A glance at the coffee; possibly not the ideal train of thought either, though at the moment it still beats the fresh memory of the wounded trash-man. "'bout you?" he asks, gaze lifting again.

One of August's brows goes up. "That's always the thing, right? Someone deciding to sell something and someone else really disagreeing with that. I mean--well. I haven't come across that myself but I'd probably just walk away. Who needs bad blood over something from an estate sale." Not in a town this size.

He nods in comprehension, and, as it turns out, shared experience. "Pretty early for me too. Maybe not that early, but...I have this memory, when I was eight, of trying to bring a flying lizard home. Like, a baby dragon, or something. Just got my hands scratched up, parents assumed it was a feral cat. Might be the earliest, I'm not sure." He nods due south. "I'm from Portland, the place down there isn't like here--not as wide. And I think I forgot a lot of things, when I was on assignment in Forestry."

He toys with his mug. "The reason I ask is, I can tell you're strong," another twitch of his brows, the kind that says, 'you know, since we both incinerated that poor thing', "and, we've got a problem in Firefly Forest we could use some help with. If you're interested." He holds up a hand. "I understand, if you're not. Not everyone's up for crossing Over and mucking around out there."

Aidan nods again, turning his empty hand upward in a 'yeah, exactly' sort of gesture. "I figure if it's awesome enough I'd be tempted to try and get it if that was going on, then it's probably something whoever didn't want it sold'd really miss and if I got it I'd feel like a jerk about it every time I looked at it anyway. So. Not worth it, right?"

The mention of the (maybe) baby dragon makes him smile, and he glances over Southward at the nod, as if he could see Oregon from here. "I'm from here originally," he says, "but kinda all over after that. Portland before here, though, for like..." He has to think about it. "A year and a half? I remember the place." Another piece of muffin ripped off. "I kinda forgot some stuff when I was a kid, but not-- I am pretty decent at it," it's almost apologetic, "so it didn't go away, when I went away. I just didn't realise how much harder it was until I got somewhere easier again. So I remember... I think I remember a lot of it?" Hard to be sure, especially when he starts really trying to think about it.

He gives his head a shake, dismissing the thought for now, and worries his lower lip as he considers the request. "What do we need to do?" It might be a yes; it's definitely an interested.

August grunts, nods. "Yeah, it's hard to be sure. And mine changed a lot after Bosnia, so it's hard to be sure what's from that and what was already there." He shrugs.

"That's the problem--we don't really know." He admits this with no small amount of apology. "We do know that the trees are fighting some beings that used to live in a specific area. Gnomes, I guess we can call them. They're," he holds a hand low to the ground, "small things, real fragile, honestly." A sip of coffee, then, "I'm assuming we could be facing rampaging tree monsters, but it might be a bit simpler than that. Won't know until we get there, the gnome 'elder' didn't give us details." He shifts in his seat. "It's, ah, possible this is the result of an experiment I did." He clears his throat.

Another little nod to the mention of Bosnia, and a flicker of something like sympathy -- Aidan may not have any proper military experience, but he can imagine or extrapolate and what he comes up with isn't exactly a good time.

He goes through a bit more muffin as the situation's explained, head tilting at the not-knowing and brows lifting at the mention of gnomes. Not in disbelief -- gnomes aren't even close to the weirdest thing he's run into this year -- but they're still not something you run into every day. And somehow odder than potentially rampaging trees. "Well, I mean. That'd be a good reason to have to fix it. What kind of experiment?"

"We don't really know about how we interact, biologically, with being over there, so I figured I'd test a few things with plants." August has the decency to look abashed, for like, a whole two seconds. Then, "The first experiment was just to plant some things in the Park. Those all died. So, means I know that one or more somethings needed for plants to live--rain, solar radiation, whatever--isn't available. And that begs the question of how well we would do over there. And if we'd be okay, why?"

Before they can get off on that tangent, he has a bite of muffin and continues, "So my next experiment was grafting. Took a piece of Sitka spruce and grafted it to a tree over there. This way I'm by-passing the need for the plant to provide for itself from what's Over There." He winces. "Which might? be the source of the rampaging trees, but since I don't know where the ones on the fritz are, I can't say for sure until we get a look at it."

Aidan may never have really thought about how they interact biologically with being Over There before, but it sparks some interest. And a small wince for the plants that died. It's probably for the best that August goes on, because that was an intriguing tangent, but one that the younger guy is easily enough directed onward from by the grafting, and the explanation of why. "So... possibly adding our trees to their trees, like... drove their trees mad or something? Or it might be totally different trees, though, I'm guessing the ones you grafted to aren't there anymore, if you can't just look at the ones you did, huh?" He's quiet for another bite of muffin. "It's still kinda weird to me hearing some folks can just go over on purpose."

"I think you might be on to something there," August says, pausing to have some coffee, "because the chalk marks I made to lead the way back to the graft site seemed to be...copied, to all the other trees. So what if the graft did that too? Or maybe it gave rise to some new kind of hybrid?" A shake of his head and a sigh. "Either way. We're going to deal with it. I kind of hope we don't have to just--" He stops. He was going to say 'burn it all' except that's a little close to home just now. So he opts for, "Just, ah, tear it all down. But we'll see."

He fidgets for a moment, then admits, "Honestly? It's weird to do." He coughs a laugh. "And I've even done it a few times now. Defintiely not the kind of thing I'd recommend anyone just dive on into. But, we need to know about it, since it's not waiting around for us to make up our minds."

Aidan turns this over in his head. "Wait, so were the chalk marks also on trees and now they're on all of them? Or were the chalk marks on other stuff leading to the trees, like... rocks or the ground or something, and now they lead to all trees? But the trees don't also all have grafts now?" And some new kind of hybrid is a bit worrying, given, "It's kinda hard to know what's gonna be what kind of alive, over there... though I think it might be kinda different?" Visiting on purpose, he means, outside of Dreams; the main indicator there is that the look to August seems to be genuinely inquiring.

'Burn it all' is probably in his mind anyway, but-- yes, maybe still a little close to home, particularly in this particular company. "I don't know how to do it," he admits, "Going over. But, yeah, I mean, usually it's kinda better to know how things work? So it makes sense, trying to find out. And... yeah, I can see if I can help out with the trees. And if it is the grafts, maybe we can just kinda un-graft them or something."

"The chalk marks were on trees leading to the one I grafted," August clarifies. "Not on the grafted tree itself, since that was pretty easy to see. Or, so I thought." He pulls a face. Maybe this isn't the best way to learn he has to throw every single assumption he ever had out the door, but he was bound to find out somehow. "I guess we won't know for sure what's what until we can have a look at it."

He smiles and nods at the agreement. "Don't worry about not knowing how--we'll have people who can open a door for us. And, thanks." He raises his eyebrows. "I appreciate the help, especially since it might be my screwup."

Where does one even start, when anything might be different? Aidan nods at the clarification, and takes a thoughtful drink of the mocha, which is now at least fairly safe to do that with. If you don't mind risking getting whipped cream on your nose and having to wipe it off. He uses a piece of muffin to take off some more from the top, and then eats that. "I mean, that'd be a pretty decent reason to help anyway if it is, wouldn't it? But either way, yeah, I'm in. Do you know when you're gonna go?" A tiny pause. "Prolly I oughta give you my number, huh. Also... do we know what happens if you try to grow plants from there over here? 'cause maybe they need things we don't have, too. Or. We have things that kill them? Is it definitely something missing there for ours to grow, or could it, like, have the right stuff but also poison them?"

"Probably in a few days here--I'm gathering people up, working on what we might want to bring with us." August pulls out a business card--Branch & Bole on one side, Out on a Limb on another--and offers it over. "There's mine. It's my cell as well as a work number."

He toys with his cappuccino in response to Aidan's question, glances around surreptitiously. Is he looking for Eleanor? Yes. "I was thinking about trying that next. Bringing a cutting or some pollen over, maybe a seed. Only, given how this is looking, I'll want to make a special greenhouse for it." He nods firmly at the last point. "Exactly. Was something poisoning them? Was it just that spot? I'll have to try a few more places."

Aidan accepts the card, and pulls out his phone, tapping through to set up a contact and put all that information in. A few taps more afterward, and August's phone does whatever it's generally inclined to do when it gets a text, due to the arrival of one that just says, 'hi! this is aidan'. The sender slides his phone back into a pocket, and the card as well, even though he presumably has what he needs from it already.

"Thanks," he says, and maybe caught the surreptitious glance, since he takes a slightly less sneaky one himself. Or maybe it's just 'check out the room' time. Either way, he doesn't find anything that stops him staying fairly comfortably where he is. "Some kinda quarantiney isolationy thing probably makes sense, yeah. As long as it's not like... I mean could loneliness make it not grow? But on the other hand it might be even more trouble if we somehow ended up with trees wandering around out here, so."

August's phone chimes in a quiet, noncommittal fashion; he pulls it out, taps to add a contact, and makes note of the time. He sees Aidan watching him look around, and explains, "I'm Ellie's guy, but she tries to not have too much Glimmer going on here at work. Kind of keeps it a safer space, you know? So." This is code for 'I maybe sort of haven't told her I am going off to kill some murder trees and am actively recruiting you to do it,' and since August isn't a skilled liar it's no doubt obvious.

"Lonely, that's a good point," he murmurs, eyes ging unfocused. "I mean, they can't be like our plants, so what if they're closer to us than note?" He scratches his beard. "But, yeah--quarantine, probably solid concrete floor with a pre-emergant layer under it, that sort of thing. I almost brought some soil back last time but I was concerned about microscopic eggs and spores. So yeah--some sort of barrier. Maybe a few."

He takes a last drink of his cappuccino, then says, "I should get going. Got a couple of errands to run before we head home."

As codes go, it's not a bad one. Aidan grins, looking a little bit cheerier than he did when he arrived, for whatever reason. "Okay, good to know." He will not go inform Eleanor of this glimmery skullduggery in her shop. Not that he intended to in any case.

'Pre-emergent layer' is a phrase that gets a blink, but from the context he can at least make a probably-decent guess as to what that means, even if he isn't sure what precisely it'd be. "Solitary confinement kinda sucks, but yeah, 'cause..." He doesn't have to finish that, August clearly knows exactly why. Probably better why! He gives the man a smaller smile at the leave-taking, and nods. "Good luck with them. And-- nice seeing you again. With, like... just muffins and coffee and stuff."

August packs up his tablet, sets his dishes on the busing cart. "Thanks. And, you too. Definitely the preferred way." He pauses a second, maybe because they didn't really talk about that elephant in the room. Except, maybe it's not time to. Not just yet. It's tender, just stitched, and needs time.

He ducks his head, raises his hand in a farewell. "Take care, Aidan." And then he's out the door.