2020-03-22 - Logging Inventory

It was supposed to be a relatively easy night of overseeing things, the week's shipment coming in, the storage of the inventory and making sure everything that was ordered had arrived, and then closing up the week, ready for a new week to begin. It was supposed to be. But then both one of the clerks and the guy that he had coming in late to work on inventory called out, which left Elias manning the shop most of the day, and come closing time, alone with a massive pile of boxes. He'd at least been able to oversee the unloading of the truck, but there was a lot to go through. He'd told Dante to come around through the back door since the front was locked up, and that he'd be inside.

And that's where he is, in the storage warehouse in the back, which is about half the size of the shop proper, and two stories tall, filled with shelves and boxes of stuff up off the ground. There's a fork lift to move things around, and all the supplies one could imagine rather neatly arranged save for the crates of books and calendars and magazines and all the other things that had come for the shop. Elias sits on top of a crate with a barcode reader in one hand, a clipboard with the barcodes from the shipment in the other, and his laptop propped nearby, scanning each item on the order to make sure that everything he ordered was actually there, and then locating it in the boxes, setting things in piles to go on shelves. It is a kind of controlled chaos.

Dante has been in self-imposed writing exile for the last week or so. That's meant little text conversation and no phone calls. He's needed to get something out to get his editor off his back. But now he's emerging from that cocoon, fighting a head cold from the looks of his less-than-polished self. He appears at the back door, in soft gray suit with white shirt beneath, hair coiffed but with glasses. "Elias? Are you buried in boxes?"

"I'm sitting on top of boxes," Elias replies to the familiar voice, a little smile quirking his lips. "Fortunately, not buried beneath them, as I'm not sure I'd be able to get out, and I wouldn't want Jimmy to have to find me flattened in the morning." He glances up from his scanning to study Dante when he comes in. "You look like you could use some soup."

"Apparently a week closed away from the world is all it took for my immune system to take a vacation. Just a little sniffle." Dante grins. He says that, but his nose is a bit red around the edges. "Can I help?" A beat, "Let me rephrase that: how can I help. The 'can' is not a question." He studies the boxes, looking for an obvious task.

Elias looks around at the pile of stuff everywhere and then back to Dante, opening his mouth to answer the question when the follow-up comes and he sits there for a moment, frowning slightly. "You're not here to work. We were supposed to go out. Just let me finish the scanning and then I can.. leave this for tomorrow. It's not like the piles are going anywhere without me." He chuckles. "Feel free to pull up a crate, though.. or one of the comfier chairs from inside if you want. I'll try not to be too long."

"Don't be silly, Elias. If I help you, we'll get out of here a lot faster. And I won't be in there cracking the spines of your books. Now..." Dante claps his hands together. "Give me a job. Go on then. I'm not afraid to get m'hands a bit dirty."

Elias snorts at that, an indelicate sound followed by a laugh, "You wouldn't dare crack a spine on a book." But he relents then, and says, "Okay, okay.. getting out of here before midnight is definitely high on my priority list." He nods toward the piles nearest to him and says, "These have already been logged and just need to go on the shelves with the similarly numbered boxes. The number ranges are on the ends of the shelves, and there are little labels on the shelves themselves where specific things go."

"You don't know. I could be a book-cracking rebel," says Dante with a toothy smile. But he listens to the instructions, nods, then looks down the list. "By ISBN, yes? Or is this a different system?" He picks up some of the books and examines them to see if he's got it straight.

"ISBN," Elias confirms, chuckling. "I'm far too lazy to come up with a whole new system just to confuse myself and others." He then picks up another box, opens it up, and checks to see if there are in fact 10 of what he ordered in it, and on confirming that, scans them in boop. This, he repeats. "Thank you," he says, finally. "I.. really don't like asking people to help with stuff like this. It's my responsibility this place.."

"Your responsibility, yes. But sometimes being responsible means asking for help when you need it." Dante is good at organizing and following numerical systems, so he doesn't have much problem with this particular task. "Good thing I'm wearing my sexy librarian glasses. All decked out for the part. Not wearing my jacket with the elbow patches though. More's the pity."

"If you want to run home and find something more tweedy, I'll wait," Elias teases with an amused little smile. "It doesn't matter what you wear. You always look sexy." He scans in some more items, the boop, boop, boop coming in small groups of things as he continues to assemble more piles for Dante to stack, and empties out more boxes, pushing the empties over to a corner to be broken down later. Though he does pause and say, "I suppose. I would have just called Daniel in the morning and made him come out and do it for pizza." He grins a little crookedly, then. "He would, too. I'd just owe him."

"You say that now. Wait for a few days when this cold knocks me on my arse and I'm in a wrinkled tee with soup stains." Not that Dante would ever, short of being on his literal death bed. He's picked up a rhythm with the shelving of the books. "You know, this is rather relaxing. A bit like noodling away on the piano."

Elias laughs at that mental image and says, "Nope. You would, even in your weakest state, look at a stained wrinkled tee in horror and take it off and crawl to a dresser for a fresh one before being seen in it. Your hair might be curly, but soup-stained? I disbelieve." He chuckles as Dante shelves books. "I don't mind doing it, particularly when there's someone else here with me so that we can talk as we go through it. It's really not bad at all. It's just a lot for one person."

"Yes, well, maybe not. Being covered in food would not help me feel better." Dante hefts a set of books and slides them neatly into place. Probably more neatly than they need to be, but that's no surprise. "How have things been? I feel as though we haven't talked much lately. Part of that was certainly my self-imposed writing exile."

"Things have been good. I finished my book as promised, and delivered it for the first round of edits, so that is done and I have some time to myself with no deadlines for the moment, and a couple of other things I'm working on that aren't tied to anything in particular, so I can work on them at my leisure," Elias says as he boop boops his way through another box, then can't seem to find something, and goes hunting about for it, opening one crate, and then another, and then the one he was sitting on only to finally find it there. "Went and saw that new murder mystery with Garrett the other day. That was nice. I hadn't seen him in a while. And had dinner with Tyler a week or so ago."

"Look at you, being all productive and busy and social." Dante doesn't mean that in a condescending way at all. He slides a few more books into their home base. "I didn't get as much done as I should have during my exile, but I think I got past the worst of the block. So that's something, at least."

"I do get out and about every once in a while," Elias says with a little smile. Then he thinks of something, "Garrett mentioned that he hadn't heard from his friend Kelsey in a while. He'd mentioned that she had been perhaps working with you on some stories of local lore? Have you heard from her at all recently? I haven't.. but then I never knew her that well. We'd only met a couple of times."

"Ah, I met Kelsey when I first came here. But no, I haven't spoken to her in quite some time. I ran into her at...I believe the Firefly. But that was some months ago." Dante opens a book gently to read the inside jacket author bio, then slides it onto the shelf. "She was one of the first people to tell me something was off about this town. I do hope she's all right."

"So do I," Elias says thoughtfully as his brow furrows just a little bit. "Garrett has the dog that they were co-parenting, so it's especially strange for her to be out of touch with him." But people going missing in Gray Harbor happens sometimes, too. And sometimes people just flee, as well. "I'm glad to hear that you got past some of your block though, and that the writing is progressing." He wanders over toward where Dante is shelving things and wraps his arms around him briefly, resting his chin against his shoulder for a moment, before stepping away and returning to his boxes.

"Careful," says Dante with a soft chuckle. "I'm all germy. If you get sick, who will mind the shop? Gray Harbor's ghosts?" He reaches back and gives his arm a squeeze before he moves out of range. "It's progressing like walking in ankle deep wet sand, but it's better than being at a standstill. It's a new novel. Seeing as I can't figure out how to write the story of this town without telling the truth."

"I fear no common cold," Elias says as he brushes his fingertips lightly through Dante's hair and Dante can likely feel that tingling, the Glimmer use in the air as he can feel some of that healing energy that Elias had used to heal his wounds before go to work on his cold. It won't cure it outright, but it certainly helps speed up the process and alleviate some of the symptoms. "And telling the truth will be difficult," he agrees on the topic of the writing. "What did your publisher have to say?"

"Elias," says Dante softly. He reaches to try and catch his hand. "You shouldn't have done that. Taking the edge off a few cold symptoms is not worth the risk." Someone's been learning more about the Veil, and the dangers involved in using abilities. "My publisher is miffed. They had a place in the fall line-up for my book and it's already been pushed back once. I only managed to console them by promising a new novel a full year ahead of schedule."

"It's my risk to take," Elias says and allows his fingers to be caught briefly, giving Dante's hand a little squeeze before he goes to grab another stack of things and begins to help with the shelf stocking since the scanning is mostly done, and some things need to be moved out of the way, first. "Well, I'm glad at least that they're a bit placated by that, even if miffed." He stacks a few books on the opposite shelf and straightens them a bit. Then he turns to lean back against the shelf a bit, which is possible only because they're all bolted together so it won't tip.

"I only have their good graces because I've always delivered very close to deadline before. But they've been patient and I've pushed this one back twice. At first I was still learning about this place. And then I realized I can't possibly write a nonfiction book. I mean, quite literally," Dante gestures with one of the books he's shelving. "I've heard this place turns editor and won't let you. So I've turned to the excuse that the atmosphere of this place allows me to be creative. Which of course means I've got to start producing drafts for them to believe it."

Elias smiles a little wryly and says "That is the conundrum, isn't it? I'm glad that you took the time to get something written, even if it meant not seeing you for a while." He smiles, "Not that I didn't miss you, but I know what it's like, and sometimes you just have to buckle down and get some words out." He pulls away from the shelves and heads back over to the boxes. There's some more soft sounds of beeping as he manages to clear his way through another box.

"I'm usually fairly disciplined, but this town has more distractions than most," and Dante doesn't just mean the spooky goings-on. He steps away from the shelf and towards Elias. "I'm sorry I haven't been round as much as usual. But I'm glad you've been keeping busy."

Elias smiles over his shoulder from where he digs through another box, neatly stacking its contents on a mostly empty table next to it as he gets things in order. "Mhmn," he chuckles on the topic of the town and its distractions. He shakes his head then at the apology and says, "You have nothing to apologize for. And I'm hardly incapable of entertaining myself for a week or two. There's always some trouble to get into or another, and this town is quite good at providing trouble for those who don't look for it, let alone those who do."

"Yes, I've noticed," says Dante with his toothy grin. "I'm rather shocked the town didn't distract me from my writing with a trip into, an, oh I don't know..." he gestures, "...a pirate-themed adventure or something. It seems to like to remind you every now and again that you're on its turf."

"Have you spent any more time in your dungeons and dragons adventure?" Elias asks curiously as he pushes the empty box into the corner with the others and turns to survey what is left. There are only a few boxes left and only a few stacks of things to be shelved. "This does go much faster with help." He smiles a little bit wryly and says, "I do appreciate it."

"That is the right response. Gracious in the face of help," says Dante with a teasing little smile. "And no. Haven't tugged into any Dreams lately." He looks around for a surface to knock on firmly. "Only a matter of time on that, mhmmm?" He gathers up one of the last armloads of books to take them to their resting place.

Elias chuckles and shakes his head just a little bit. Elias doesn't blush, because Elias knows no shame, but that doesn't mean that he's not self-aware enough to take the ribbing with a little bit of humility. "I have been finding more people who are interested in learning about them, but that's... par for the course. Garrett asked me to tell me what I know when we were out the other night. I have a feeling that he might be starting to experience some of the strangeness as well."

"Once you know it exists, it's hard to not want to know more. To at least know what you're dealing with. Even if it comes with a hearty dose of nightmare fuel in the bargain." Dante shelves his last armload of books. "At least, that's how it is for me. But then again, I've always been the type to peer into the darkness."

"So have I," Elias says, "But then, I was never particularly afraid of the darkness. I always liked the dark. It felt familiar. And it felt powerful to not be afraid of it." He smiles wryly. "It will likely get me in a good deal of trouble some day. But I refuse to live my life dictated by fear."