2020-03-15 - How To Open A Jar(Head)

Doors. Things that open. Things that close. Things that let you get from the inside, to the outside and vise versa. There are lots of kinds of doors, too. Wooden. Screen. Metal. Metaphoric. Even metaphysical. Tyrone uses one of the more mundane, automatic ones, though, as he enters the library in his wheelchair. He's come in search of a someone instead of a something, this time, and so the first place he looks is the circulation desk. And if Harper isn't there, he'll just start cruising around until he finds her.

The stern, middle-aged Melinda is manning the circulation desk with an iron fist. Harper? She's down an aisle in non-fiction, dealing with a Dewey Decimal emergency in the philosophy and religion sections. Books are pulled out here, reshelved there. All the while she gives them -- the books -- a quiet, but stern talking-to. For once, she doesn't see Tyrone arrive, wrapped up in a metaphysical crisis as she is.

Melinda gets a nod and a grin, as usual, because Tyrone likes to poke the bear. And, since she's not Harper, he just keeps rolling by. He cruises around the main hub of the library, checking down the aisles, until he finds Harper in one of them. Reorganizing books, again. She does that a lot .... He pauses at the entrance to the aisle, collecting himself a little, and reaffirming to himself that he's doing The Right Thing. And then he rolls into the aisle, approaching but not getting overly close. And then he'll wait until she's done or until she notices him, whichever comes first.

Funny how librarians spend so much time doing things with books. It's a mystery. If he's going to wait until she notices, he'll have to watch her work through four shelves of books. It looks like some industrious patron thought they'd reshelve the books they'd been using for research. And now Harper's having to fix that resulting debacle. "... remember that you're ... no, I don't care if ... always put Kant next to ... survey of religious ... so sorry, my little ..." Two books left on the floor that she scoops up and pushes from her easy crouch to stand and then startles when she catches sight of Tyrone waiting there. She turns and looks down the other end of the aisle before looking back at him, perhaps suspecting he's a figment of her imagination. Her gaze settles neutrally on him the second time and she places the two last books before crossing her arms over her chest and arching a brow. Not a word. But she's looking at him.

When Harper startles just a bit, Tyrone grimaces. But, when she doesn't say anything and just gives him a look, well .... One hand lifts to rub at the back of his neck as he looks to the side. "Okay, yeah, I hear ya," he admits, even though she didn't say anything. "I just ... well ... I mean ... I dunno, I guess I just ...." Yes, this was all going just PERFECT. Tyrone sighs and shakes his head, looking down. "Well, I just wanted to say that you were right, I was wrong, and when I thought I was bein' tough and brave tryin'a handle e'rything myself, I was really bein' scurred 'n weak by not talkin' to you when you was tryin'a help. So ... yeah. Sorry." Tyrone pauses for just a moment to make sure he managed to get out everything he meant to, then he nods to himself and backs up to start turning around. "Have a good day," he adds, beginning his retreat.

"You run hot and cold," Harper says more quietly than he is accustomed to her speaking in the library. Her stance remains as it is. In response to his apology her voice is even and quiet, "Was there something you wanted?" She means before. "Because it seemed like you came into my library," Yes hers. Argue with her about that. "-- looking for something only to shrug off all my best efforts." Harper may not be the push-over people have her pegged to be. If he's going to retreat from a difficult conversation, she won't chase him. But she doesn't turn and walk away, either.

Tyrone pauses, already mostly turned around, then slowly turns his chair back towards Harper. He shrugs his shoulders up all the way, looking unsure. "Well, I mean, I mostly wanted to apologize for being a jerk when you were trying to be nice and be my friend. I've ... done a lot of that, lately," he admits. He looks around again, obviously uncertain, and leans up on one arm to adjust his positioning in his chair, resettling. "Look, I really don't know much of anything except how to be a marine. And now that I'm not that, I've really been struggling to figure out ... well ... /me/, I guess. And you're a really nice lady and you were being really nice /to me,/ and I blew you off. And I shouldn't have. So. I'm sorry. And, if you're not fed up with me, I'm willing to try and do better. Going forward. If I can. If you want." It's obvious from the way Tyrone doesn't make eye contact and the way he's shifting in his seat that this whole 'opening up' thing is definitely not easy for him. But, he /is/ making an effort, so. Maybe he can get credit for that?

If he gets credit, it's hidden. Harper does inscrutible as well as she does relentlessly friendly, apparently. She watches him, his body language, listens to his words without replying directly. She leaves him space to add more or modify what he's already said. After an almost uncomfortable amount of silence she shifts her weight to one hip. "And in the future if you clearly want and need something but you tell me to leave you alone?" What then? Because Harper is going to lay down parameters. Her tone is neither icy nor warm. It's hushed, matter-of-fact, and strangely mild.

Tyrone winces like he's been pinched, shaking his head a little. Sure, he had it coming. Sure, he deserved it. But it didn't make the medicine taste any better. "Well ... I'm not gonna tell you what to do. If you don't wanna argue with me or push me, I get it, and you ain't gotta. But, if you think it's clear that I want or need something, I give you permission to call me on it and point out that I've already admitted you were right and that you know better than me, and that I've had to come crawling back here, hat in hand, and grovel." At least he finally makes eye contact at the end, mostly because he needs to see how Harper is reacting.

"I think you may not know me well enough, Tyrone. I don't mock people with their mistakes or hold my own judgment over their heads like a blade. That's not my style." Harper meets his gaze directly, her own brown eyes level and bright, just giving away no hint of her reaction to any of this. "I learned to leave you be. And I'll be frank, Tyrone. Once I've swallowed that pill, it changes things." She relaxes just perceptibly and leans a shoulder into a bookshelf, crossing one ankle in front of the other. "But I'm not heartless. And I don't find being cold to be a pleasant condition. I don't believe in punishing people. So we're not going there." The woman taps the fingers of her right hand against the other forearm, a silvery ring worn on that hand, ring finger. "Tell me what you want, Specifically."

Tyrone's lips purse and he nods. Things changed. But ... what does he want? He looks a little surprised at the question. Then, his brow furrows and he considers it. "Honestly, I don't know. Well, I mean, I do know, but it's not possible. I'd /like/ to go back and make things better, but if I can't, I can't, and I'll live with that. But ... really, I haven't ever really wanted anything /from/ you," he says. Then, he smirks and can't help but snicker just a little. "I mean, I did really wanna holla when we first met, but. I've still never ... I dunno." Tyrone shakes his head and rubs at his hairline. This talking stuff is just not his style. "I guess I'd be happy if you at least were friendly to me, again, instead of just staring at me? I won't ask you to be my friend, but ... cot dang, ma'am. Your cold shoulder is frigid. Penguins wouldn't wanna stand next to you and even polar bears would tell you to chill." Then, Tyrone smiles and shrugs a little. "But, I guess it pro'ly feels that way cuz I'm so used to you being warm. So ... I mean, if I can at least get halfway there. I ain't askin' to be let back in the living room, but could I at least get outta the doghouse?"

Harper has said she doesn't punish people, that she doesn't enjoy being cold. But it's true that this composed version of the gracious woman, keeping her own counsel, could be a bit disconcerting. It's not cold. In fact the more Tyrone really looks at her, the more he sees the depth behind those expressive brown eyes. She's searching him. She's searching for sincerity, for his truth, for a steadfast part of him to trust enough to open up again.

What he wants. "No, I don't mean what you want for the past. I don't have a concern for whether or not you feel remorse. That's not a thing for me, Tyrone." Fingers of one hand where her arms are folded pluck lightly at the sleeve of her thin sweater.

"I want to know what you want moving forward." There just might be a hint of a light briefly behind those eyes. "I don't know what holla means, but I'm pretty sure I'd be happier not knowing." She breathes in a deeper breath and exhales it slowly. "Tyrone. This is not cold. This is neutral. You do not want to see cold." That's pretty much a guarantee. "I'm with-holding judgment. Listening to what you have to say." She nods faintly as he says what he's used to from her is warmth. "Do you want to tell me what happened before when you came here and then told me to let you be? Was someone hurting you? Did you think I was going to hurt you?" She tips her head toward the bookshelf she leans against. "Or am I missing the point entirely and you simply want 'friendly Harper' around for a superficial but pleasant acquaintance? Because I can be that Harper at the snap of a finger."

Tyrone chuckles a little and shakes his head, smiling faintly when Harper says she doesn't know what 'holla' means. "Just so you're aware, 'holla' means to ask a girl out or to let her know, out loud, you attracted to her. Don't necessarily mean nothin' naughty," he explains. "And fair enough," he adds, accepting that this isn't Harper being cold. "Far as what happened, I can tell you if you wanna know? Long story short, I tried to bail on Gray Harbor and got stuck in the Dream for like three months and didn't even know it. Didn't find out til I tried to do something stupid and got my ass handed to me," he explains, shrugging casually.

It's sometime after the holla explanation and into Tyrone

It's sometime after the holla explanation and into Tyrone's explanation of what happened after he shut her down that Harper's brows furrow. "Stuck in the Dream." She echoes quietly. "For three months?" Just the hours she's been in the Dream have been punishing. She tries to get her head around that idea. "So... you rebuffed my efforts and sometime after that found yourself caught away from this reality?" Harper straightens only to sink to that easy crouch in her heels in front of Tyrone. Her brown eyes are softer now. More expressive. "I hate to say it, but I think I might be glad you tried to do something stupid, if it freed you from some sort of imprisonment." She considers it all further. "Are you still planning to leave?"

"What? No, no no no," Tyrone says, shaking his head and waving his hand. He chuckles again, smirking. "Nah, this was back before Christmas. Like, a day or so after I checked them books out? Me and Easton got into it, and I was just fed up wit' e'rything, so I bought a ticket and tried to hop on a bus to Seattle. Planned on heading back down to Cali and Camp Pembleton, but turns out I never even left Gray Harbor. Sometime between getting to the bus stop and getting on the bus, I wound up in the Dream and didn't even know it. And there I was, three months, thinking I was down in Riverside, figuring out how to fight stuff on the other side. So, when I thought I'd made some progress, I went huntin'. Found the dragon I tangled with first time I slipped over, picked a fight and got tossed out of the Dream, onto my ass and into the hospital," he explains. Of course, the way he retells it, you wouldn't think he'd been in any kind of danger or anything. But, then, he's in a wheelchair because he got shot in Afghanistan, so it might be a little less scary to him.

Harper gets lost trying to track what about what she said receives the emphatic denial. "So you were Over There for three months. You fought something that hurt you badly. You ended up back here. And now ... where does that leave you, Tyrone? What's your plan?" It isn't lost on her that he's come back to the library for some reason. That he's faced some of what he finds so difficult in order to have this conversation. Then comes a very Harper statement. "I'm glad you're better." Not in the hospital.

Tyrone blinks a few times, then shrugs again. "I don't /have/ a plan? I guess, first thing I'ma do is go see if I can get my job as a tour guide back. Then maybe look at using the GI bill money that's waiting for me or something. I dunno what I'd go to school FOR, but ... I gotta do something, right?" he offers, gesturing aimlessly with one hand. "Oh! And if you meant you wanted to know why I decided to come back and apologize, it wasn't anything that happened. I just got to thinking about it and figured some stuff out. One, being that I owed you an apology."

He doesn't have a plan. Going back to school. Yes. That's what she meant. What is he doing here, now? "How did what you felt then change?" Harper inquires with a hint of that gentle tone.

Blink. Blink blink blink. "... what do you mean?" Tyrone asks, looking confused and rubbing at the back of his neck. See, she asked him about feelings, and he's obviously still not used to those yet!

"Something has changed between the moment when you shut me down and this one, Tyrone. What changed?" Harper patiently runs through the circle again.

"... huh?" Tyrone replies. And it takes another second before it clicks. "Ohhhhhhhhhhh. I get it." Because he does. Except, now he looks a little perturbed as he thinks about it, glancing up at his left eyebrow as he considers. Whih takes several more seconds and proves to be fruitless as he finishes with a shrug. "I dunno. Like I said, I guess I just realized that I was being a p- ... uh ... a punk, not tellin' you why I was upset sometimes or why I was lookin' for them books before. You just wanted ta help or at least just listen and try'n be my friend 'n stuff, and I was bein' a jerk not letting you. I mean, I would march up 'n down main street tellin' e'rybody how awesome you is, but then here I go not lettin' you be my friend? If that ain't the stupidest thing I could do, I don't wanna know what is," he explains, smirking again.

Harper remains there crouched with her forearms atop her skirted knees as she waits and listens. "It's your prerogative to choose what you do and do not tell me, you realize." She offers a quiet smile. "But it is true. I did want to be your friend. And it was disheartening when I failed to do that." She lifts her right hand -- the one with the silvery ring -- and offers it to Tyrone. "Shall we try again?"

Tyrone shrugs and nods when Harper agrees that it's up to him what he shares. But he does take her hand, giving it a single, firm shake. "Yes, ma'am, I'd like that. And you didn't fail one bit. Hence I'm here, now, eatin' all this crow," he says, smiling again. "In my defense, though, I ain't had anybody actually care 'bout how I was feeling in over four years. So I ain't used to talking 'bout it, much less even thinkin' bout it. I'ma do my best, but it may take me a while to get used to making friends like civilians. I'm used to just trustin' the dude next to you when the ish hits the fan, and thankfully there ain't a lot of those blowin' right now." After saying that, though, Tyrone grimaces and looks a little sheepish. "Well, at least, not many that I ain't start up myself."

Harper's hand is soft but firm in Tyrone's before she releases his and draws back. "I never intended for you to eat crow, Tyrone." In his defense. "I try my utmost to be worth confiding in," she discloses. "How can I help you through this transition?" she inquires about his effort to make friends civilian-style. "So you're staying in Gray Harbor?"

Tyrone shrugs his shoulders way up. "Well, leavin' wasn't very successful. And I ain't really got any place else to go, so. I figure here's as good as anywhere. Plus, all my stuff's here, anyway, so." Because that's a valid reason for staying. Even though his 'stuff' mostly fits into carry on luggage. "But I dunno that there's anything anybody can do /for/ me. I just gotta get used to not bein' a soldier anymore, and that's just gonna take time."

It's one of her strengths: listening. Harper listens without trying to interrupt or console. "It's a tremendous adjustment. More, I suspect, then most people could comprehend. But I can offer to be here and I'll work to be as safe as I can."

Tyrone laughs, again, grinning at Harper. "Oh, Harper, you couldn't possibly be safer. I mean, you's a librarian! And you all of what, maybe a buck? You couldn't be dangerous or threatening with an army behind ya," he teases.

Harper arches a brow at that laughter. Oh-ho how much Tyrone underestimates what Harper is and is not. She doesn't, however, correct him. After all, it's been her life's work: convincing people that she's nothing but a superficial, friendly librarian. She eventually smiles. "You're right. I'm the safest." Of course she is. Harper is harmless and sweet. What you see is what you get. And that's comforting, is it not?

Yes, Harper's veneer is thoroughly intact with this one. Tyrone wouldn't believe anything otherwise, and will- for better or worse- probably never know any different. Which is why he just chuckles a little more at Harper's seemingly sarcastic agreement. "So, anyway. Since I'm tryin' ta make amends for shutting you out before, I'ma give you an opportunity here. You can ask me any question, about any part of my life, and I will tell you everything you want to know about it. One time offer, today, only. After that, I reserve the right to selectively edit." With that, he interlaces his fingers and presses his palms outward, popping several of the knuckles, before stretching his arms over his head and then placing his hands behind his head.

Harper flickers a glance past Tyrone toward the circulation desk. Melinda seems to have everything in hand and is not signalling Harper that she is needed. She looks back to Tyrone. "I don't think you understand how this works, Tyrone. I only want to know what you want to tell me. So the ball is back in your court. What would you like me to know?" Her smile lifts, faintly playful, but still sincere.

"Oh, I understand. I was just giving you a free pass to find out anything you wanted to know. But, if you ain't got no questions you want answered, I ain't got no stories I feel like tellin'. But, if I know you, you pro'ly bout outta lives with all that curiosity. So I just figured I'd go ahead and let you ask, if you wanted. If you don't, that's totally fine with me. Easier for me, I ain't gotta say nothin'," Tyrone says, smirking again and shrugging as he leans back in his chair.

Oh, Harper can play. "Alright, Tyrone. I'd like to know what you least want to tell me. Please share." Harper tips her brows up with the challenge, maintaining her strangely quiet tone.

Tyrone blinks a little, then he shrugs and grimaces. "I dunno, Harper? I mean, I ain't really wanna talk about some of the girls I was with back in high school or while I was overseas, but I don't think that's a story you really wanna hear, either. Plus, I don't think it's really a big deal, now, anyways." He shakes his head and straightens up a little, removing his hands from behind his head so he can shift his weight in his chair and adjust his seating position. Because pressure sores aren't any fun. "If you really ain't got nothing you wanna ask, it's alright. Like I said, I just refused to talk to you about stuff before, so I was offering to absolutely talk about something now."

Harper pursues Tyrone's line of thought. "What did you not want to tell me that day?"

"... /which/? Cuz I don't think there was a day when I came in here and you asked me something where I /did/ wanna tell you," Tyrone says, grimacing again. "Like, when I came in and you recommended the books? Or when I returned the books and wouldn't tell you what happened? Or was there a time before either of those that you were thinking of?"

"I'm curious to know if you want to tell me either of those answers, Tyrone. It's truly not my modus operandi to extort information from people I consider friends." She pauses, then adds. "Friends want to share things with you. They share because of that friendship. There's something rewarding, satisfying, and reassuring about having someone to talk to." She smiles faintly with a hint of warmth behind her brown eyes. "And that's what I want to be. A person you seek out when you want to be heard, or need a sounding board, or want to work through your thoughts."

Tyrone frowns, then rubs at the back of his neck for a few seconds, looking down, then frowns again and sighs. "Okay. Well, I already explained what happened when I returned the books. I tried to fight a dragon and got my ass kicked and found out that instead of going to San Diego, I'd been stuck in the Dream the whole time and never actually left Gray Harbor. And then I was in the hospital. And so I was a little butt hurt about it. So, that's that. As far as before, though ...," he trails off, furrowing his brow again. Mark it on your calendars, folks, Tyrone's gonna try and talk about his feelings. In person. For real. "So ... there's this girl. This woman. I met her when I first showed up in Gray Harbor- she introduced me to the pizza place. After you made it clear you wasn't go'n even give me a chance- you mighta already been dating, I dunno. But I bumped in to her a couple times and ... man. Like, shawty was definitely e'rything I thought I could want. I think part of it was also the fact that she ... what do y'all call it? Shines or something? Glimmers? Yeah, she glimmers a ton. But she's also flippin' hot, and really nice. So, I was tryin'a holla at her but she wasn't even tryin'a hear that." Tyrone takes a breath and shakes his head again, continuing to look around as he tells the story.

"So, we went out on a date, and it was like one of the worst dates I ever been on. Just totally separate pages. And even though I was tryin'a show this shawty how much I was in to her and stuff, she was just determined to not let /me/ get close. Like, even worse than I was with you. Straight up told me she thought the only reason people asked questions of other people was so they could talk about themselves, when really I just wanted to know e'rything about her. So, date was terrible. I figured that was that and we would just go our separate ways. But, then she wanted to hang out another time, and we did, and it went a lot better. So I was excited. And then ... something /else/ happened. And ... some stuff happened .... But not how I woulda wanted it. Because I really liked this chick, and wasn't tryin'a just be eff dubya bee. But it seemed like that's all she wanted. So ... I kinda gave in and kinda didn't, and the next day I came in here looking for books to help me figure out how to get shawty to open up and let her guard down so I could get closer. Or to at least understand why she was bein' that way and if there was anything I could do about it." And that's the first time Tyrone's ever said ANY of that stuff out loud, to anybody. Ever.

Tyrone clears his metaphorical throat and a hush falls over the crowd. Of one. Most recently? He was butt hurt. Harper will have to put that together with how that shut things down. She watches him work his way up to capital-S Sharing. There's a woman. There is some history. The relationship is complicated and both sides see it differently. Friends with benefits. Harper tips her head to one side, listening, taking it all in without any sign of judgment or answer. Deeply listening. Measuring. She wasn't going to give him a chance. Tyrone was clearly enamored with this woman in his ife. Something else and some stuff happened. The double whammy. He gave in and he didn't give in. That's not inscrutible at all. He came in search of books with answers. A dozen or so seconds pass after he stops speaking before she finally draws breath to respond. "It was your personal life and you didn't want to discuss it with some older librarian who didn't need to hear all about your love life." No sarcasm. This is Harper trying to understand from Tyrone's point of view.

"Well, yeah, plus ... I mean ... you don't tell a girl you wanted to date about the troubles you have tryin'a date another girl. That's just, like, a rule," Tyrone says, shaking his head again and rubbing at the back of his neck again- clearly what he does when he's uncomfortable. "Plus ... I mean, that's just stuff I don't talk about. Ever. At least, not ever before. You deal with your feelings on your own, and if you can't, you button them up and put them away. Spent the last four years doing that. Hard habit to break."

"Maybe can I be something other than a 'girl you wanted to date', Tyrone?" Harper postulates hopefully. "We don't need romantic chemistry, you and I. It's not part of the equation." Her warm expression helps to offset how harsh that could sound if he were being completely unreceptive. "As for talking about your feelings being something you're not accustomed to, how has that been working for you lately?" She adds, "Not that you have to choose me to be your confidant. Certainly there is no obligation there. But I do a marvelous job of it, most times," she murmurs with a wry smile.

Tyrone laughs and gives Harper a placating smile. "Harper, I'm a guy. You'll /always/ be a 'girl I wanted to date.' Even if we friends. That's just how guys work," he explains. "And as far as chemistry, like I said, you made it clear a long time ago we wasn't fittin' ta be romantic, so that's not a point. And ... really ... as far as talkin' bout my feelings? This is it, so you tell me?" he says. Then he chuckles a little and shrugs. "I guess I did tell Lyric what I was trippin' about, but .... I dunno. She wants us to be friends, so ... I'ma try? I think I'll pro'ly always be disappointed, though, that we ain't go'n be somethin' more. 'specially since I already seent her nekkid and stuff." And there's a rueful shrug and shake of his head at that, maybe even slightly wistful.

"Far be it for me to try to inhabit the mind of a 'guy'," Harper murmurs drolly. "Your gender is a mystery to me on most occasions." She listens a bit more and then nods, "You're talking. And there appear to have been feelings involved," she concedes. "Is it what you expected?" And ... there's progress. He told Lyric about his feelings. This is the first Harper has heard a name, not that she knows the woman. "In my fair share of experiences navigating the world of romantic pursuit, I would only say that it didn't work until it did. My current opinion on the endeavor is that it is almost entire an exercise in tenacity. Likely it's not a soothing thing to hear when in the thick of it, but I think you're doing a good job of moving forward."

So long as no one is trying to make their way down the aisle she and Tyrone are occupying, Harper is content to continue the quiet conversation where they are, settling to the floor on one hip, her heeled shoes tucked modestly around to one side in that long skirt she's wearing. She lifts her hand to tuck a dark strand of hair behind her ear. "It seems to me that you're making an concerted effort to move forward now that you've returned. Do you have any short-term goals past this conversation?"

"Short term goals?" Tyrone asks, his head sliding backwards in surprise. He considers, then grimaces and shakes his head. "Other than figurin' out what's for lunch and dinner, nah. I gotta go and ask for my job back givin' tours, so I might try and do that today. But otherwise, nah. I'm pretty much just kinda winging it," he confesses. And then he returns to the subject of romance, if only for a second. "And as far as the whole romance thing, I'm pretty much out, for now. I ain't really lookin' to put in the work of goin' out and meetin' new folks or nothin', and I ain't interested in doin' no friends with benefits with nobody, either. So, I'ma just lay low for a while and see what shakes out. Still ain't too sold on settlin' here, long term, no more, since I ain't got no peoples here like I thought."

Harper watches the surprise flicker across Tyrone's face. She gives him some time to think. "Would you accept some impromptu advice about goals, Tyrone?" Because she's not going to force her advice on him. It may be that she's a bit cautious still with the soldier.

The librarian nods about leaving romance be for awhile. "That's when it happens, if you ask me. When you're not looking for it." He has no people here? That one stings a bit, but Harper doesn't say as much.

Tyrone shrugs a little and nods. "Yeah, sure. I mean, it's obvious /I/ don't know what I'm doing here," Tyrone says, smirking a little as he resettles in his chair again.

"Find something," Harper says simply. "A project. A passion. Something that you can pour all that marine-corps energy into. Something that makes the days more than the sum of a few meals and going through the motions."

There's a rueful chuckle and Tyrone shakes his head. "That's what I /thought/ I was doing, when I /thought/ I was down in Riverside. Spent seven days a week working on shooting from my chair, working on getting into what I thought was the Dreaming. Couldn't find any entrances to the Veil, but now I know it's because I wasn't actually in the real world. After all that work, thinking I was getting somewhere, when I did finally confront that cot dang dragon, I 'bout got myself kilt. So … yeah. Like I said. I gots no idea what I'm doing next. Haven't even really figured out if there's anything I like doing besides soldiering, yet. So." Tyrone shrugs again, helplessly.

Harper listens. She's quiet for a time. "It's time to choose something now that you're in the actual world. Explore your interests. Try something new. Think of it like a mission if it helps. Or a challenge. If you don't, you'll be a victim to life rather than in charge of your own destiny. And you're a marine, Tyrone." As if he doesn't know this. "Marines don't let life toss them around. They grab life by the -- well, by something that's probably off-color. But they do it."

Harper's need to demure causes Tyrone to laugh, which he quickly stifles into a snicker lest he get them all in trouble with Melinda and have her come investigating. His smirk is impossible to hide, though, as he offers, "Horns?" Which is even more funny, since he thought of it and the librarian didn't. He smirks at Harper smugly for a few seconds, before moving on. "And … that's just it. I don't know what to try. Which is why I'm gonna try and get my job back and try just doing that for a little while. But, that's also why I'm not sure if sticking around Gray Harbor is in my future, either, since … I dunno what to do here. But I can't afford to up and move somewhere else, yet, and I've decided that going about it half-cocked isn't a great idea, either, so. I'ma be here for at least a few months more. If I don't figure out anything, by then, I'll take it as a sign to move on."

Harper gives Tyrone an excellent stern librarian Look when he laughs at her and then comes up with the tame version of an answer. But she can't keep a sparkle out of her brown eyes. "You don't have to know. You just have to try some things. See what's out there. Do you like mechanical things? Join a club for drone-racing. Do you like art? Take pictures or try your hand at painting. Do you like being outside? Try some new form of exercise. It's a matter of putting that sharp mind of yours to the task and coming up with options and then trying them, one by one. Eventually one will feel right. But you have to be tenacious. I can't imagine your training allowed for anything less than that. I can almost guarantee that if you just stick to a job and menial tasks of the day you won't find any reason to be here or anywhere else." She seaches his expression for comprehension.

Tyrone snickers again, but this time it's at himself. "Pretty sure the corps does all it can to take our minds and make them blunt instruments, more than anything else," he offers. But, at all of her ideas, he just holds up his hands, surrendering. "I get it, I get it. I'm not gonna just sit home and play video games. But, I also am still getting used to being a cripple, too, so you're go'n have to cut me some slack when I say I don't know what I wanna do. I ain't never been a cripple before, so I don't know what I might like ta do in this chair." Then, he smirks a little and rolls forward so his foot nudges Harper's knee. "'cept comin' to bother this town's smokin' hot librarian."

At least Tyrone's laughing. Harper nods to what he says about the Corps, though she doesn't believe it undermines her argument in any way. "Of course you get it, Tyrone. You're a smart, sweet, dangerous killing machine." He hasn't been a cripple before. "I'm sure it's an incredibly overwhelming transition. But I also know you're not going to let it best you." Her confidence is unflappable. She glances down as Tyrone nudges her skirt-draped knee with his foot. Smokin' hot? "I'm definitely the hottest lead librarian that this town has, it's true." There is only one lead librarian. More sparkling behind those brown eyes.

"Just because you're the only one doesn't change the fact that you're super cute," Tyrone counters, quite aware of Harper's attempt to somewhat deflect or mitigate his compliment. "And obviously being crippled ain't gettin' the best of me, cuz I'm not lyin' up in some hospital bed or holin' myself up in the crib cryin' woe is me. I just lost my entire life plan, so. I'ma figure /somethin'/ out. Just don't have any clue what it is, yet. And I ain't fittin' ta rush and try and figure it out. I got my disability check, I got a place to live, I got food on my table. I'ma settle in and see what shakes out."

"A word of advice, Tyrone. Girls don't typically like being called cute. It's a compliment, but underneath it's diminishing in some way. Dismissive, maybe. I don't know." She smiles, "But I know you think well of me, so we'll pretend you called me 'nerdy' or 'delightful'. " Really? Harper puts those two descriptors in the same category? Apparently so.

"No. You're not in a bed or hiding from the world. And for that I give you all the credit in the world. Just ... don't spend too long living and eating and waiting for something to appear in a beam of light. You've got to grab those ... horns," She reaches out and grabs his ankle to demonstrate, whether he can feel it or not.

"Well, you /are/ cute. And hot. You can be both. And, frankly, you're taken so I don't have to particularly care if you /like/ my compliments or not, long as I'm not being a jerk," Tyrone protests, smirking. "And yeah, I ain't fittin' ta wait for somethin' to fall in my lap. Just … get my bearings. Get used to what every day is like when you can't walk. … like the fact that, fastest way I can tell I'm asleep or in a Dream? If I can walk. Even when I'm unconscious, my brain knows it can't tell my legs to do nothin', so I can tell right away if I can get up that I ain't awake. Takes gettin' used to."

There was a time not so many months ago that Harper would have asked Tyrone for a ride around the library and note what a great way that would be to entice the ladies. Somewhere between the space between them that was broken and the fact that he's calling her 'hot' makes her reticent to play that game, now. "Oh ho, so he has a Frankly-My-Dear-I-Don't-Give-a-Damn complex now, does he?" There's nothing standoffish about her teasing. "All the getting used to, Tyrone. I don't begrudge you any of those lessons. Just do me a favor and live in the meantime."

"Is that a complex? Because I think it's just kind of a general state of being for us guys," Tyrone responds, making a face at Harper and then smirking again. And yeah, Tyrone hasn't /asked/ for advice about women and really, he hasn't even been flirting like he had been with Harper, either, so. Things definitely change. "And as far as living goes, that's what I'm doing. That's why I'ma try and get my job back. And get back to the gym. I think I'm pretty much all healed up, now, so. I ain't worked out hard in a few months, time ta get back to it."

For us guys? "Hey, who am I to quibble? If that's your flavor of bravado and it works for you?" she holds both hands up in an I surrender sort of pose, the silver of the ring on her right hand catching the light. "-- who am I to tell you otherwise?" She smiles. "So go get your marine butt to the gym. Unless you wanted me to pull out an unabridged dictionary or two for you to press."

Tyrone chuckles and straightens up in his chair, snapping into a salute. "Ma'am, yes, ma'am," he replies, before relaxing and re-centering in his chair. "I'm paying for the gym memberships, so I think I'll lift there," he adds, winking. He backs his chair up a little, clearing room so he can turn around to leave once more. "Thanks for being such a nice person, Harper. I know you ain't gotta be friends with me after I was a jerk, so I'ma do my best not to make you regret it. … just don't go sneaking stuff onto my phone again, that's rude." Though, by the way he smirks at her when he says it, he doesn't seem all that upset about the reminder he discovered.

That marine snappy salute is impressive despite how teasing it is. Harper's eyes flash. "The gym it is, then," she agrees, as if she had any say in the matter to begin with. Being a nice person? "It's what people expect of me," she answers cryptically. "But now and then I truly mean it." Implying it's genuine with him? "We're friends, Tyrone. Don't you doubt it." His phone! She mocks a disappointed look. "A man needs a reminder now and again. I won't apologize for that." She smiles and watches him turn around, staying seated on the floor for now.

"Oh, you ain't wrong. Most times, we need more than one. But next time, just send me a text or call me. Boundaries, 'n stuff," Tyrone says, still smirking. "I'll see you around, Harper. Have a good day," he says, holding up a peace sign as he backs down the aisle with one wheel.

Harper simply watches Tyrone wheel away with a thoughtful expression.