2020-04-26 - Pyroparapsychology

Aidan has a certain amount of ambivalence about the psychological sciences, truth be told, and that may be part of why it's well into April when Maggi receives a text to the number she'd put in her Friendzone ad a good few months back now.

(TXT to Maggi) Aidan : hey. are you still looking for people to talk to for your masters interning thing or are you kinda done with that?

(TXT to Aidan) Maggi : Hell ya! I am about to work a shift though. Can we do both?

(TXT to Maggi) Aidan : i mean, probably? kinda depends where you work. like if your other job is stand-up comedy or something that might get awkward.

(TXT to Aidan) Maggi : 😂Not many people go for the dark humor these days, gave up on it a few years back. Nah, I work at the Pourhouse. It should be pretty quiet though this time of day.

(TXT to Maggi) Aidan : well, that's too bad but kinda handy this time! you'd probably've gotten the weirdest heckles. so yeah, that works. bartenders are always getting talked to anyway, right? and nowish works for me if it works for you. also hi, i'm aidan.

(TXT to Aidan) Maggi : Sounds rad! I’ll be the working stiff pouring beer. Important not to talk to the wrong parapsychology bartender, you could get abducted. Now is great Aidan!

There's no reply to that one, and no immediate arrivals at the Pourhouse -- well, at least not any that seem to be looking for anything beyond the usual offerings. It is, in fact, long enough that (given the size of Gray Harbor and long it takes, or more accurately doesn't take, to get from any one point to another) one might begin to suspect there won't be any such arrivals before the door opens and Aidan slips in.

He's tall and slim and wearing bright red jeans with a tie-dyed t-shirt, light red through orange to yellow and back, top to bottom, with realistic brown-black palm tree silhouettes printed on top, under a not-quite-sheer unbuttoned white shirt, and a biker jacket over that. Worn black Docs with glittery gold laces. A pair of cheap white plastic, round, and slightly oversized dark sunglasses pushed up on his curls. And yet he appears to be trying to be unnoticed, right now, judging by the relatively small, quiet opening and closing of the door, and the way he lingers to one side of it for a moment, gaze darting across the place as if there just might be people lurking there to abduct him for talking to the wrong parapsychology bartender, and then to the bar to assess what's presumably the parapsychology bartender herself.

For her part, Maggi's golden blonde hair is tied up in a high knot, exposing the shaved portion of the head. Her tank appears to be one cut originally from a pale yellow t-shirt given the frayed edges of the cotton. Unlikely to Apologize surrounds a cat on the tanks front. Though she is furiously attempting to scrub the bar to limited avail, dark wash skinny jeans and a spiked belt are just visible.

Maggi refills a few drinks for lunchtime customers, each time coming back to the bar, apparently at war with something stuck to it. She has yet to notice Aidan, given his natural ability to slip in unnoticed. Her own black Martens are well worn. 'Heavy' by Collective Soul is currently coming through the the speakers as DJ'd by Maggi's phone. Good luck in fact hearing anything besides classic rock or grunge on her shift.

All the best Docs are well-worn. Aidan and his lurk for a good half-minute or so, during which he gradually starts moving a little bit to the music. Just a slight shifting, but he probably isn't going to complain about the chosen genres. He studies Maggi -- the haircut, the tank (which gets a small smile even if he's uneasy), the belt -- and seems to come to a decision. Some might argue for suits or at least business casual to give an air of professionalism, but apparently what he sees is enough to persuade him she probably isn't going to eat his delicious soul, abduct him, whatever, because he straightens up a touch and starts toward the bar, choosing a seat near the end to slip into. He waits until she looks his way to greet, with a quick and faintly sheepish smile, "Hey. ...you're Maggi Madsen?" It's uncertain, rather than surprised or disbelieving.

'Good' by Better than Ezra is what the Pandora directed speakers croon in transition. Maggi smiles when she notices him, a lopsided sarcastic grin spreading on her face. She seemed to be studying him in a similar fashion as she walks to the bars end, approval evident in her eyes. "I would say the one and only, but if you add the 'e' you get nine on Linkd in and a minor character from 'Transformers'. What will it be Aidan?" She doesn't ask if she is correct, confident enough that she isn't wrong. Over the past few months Maggi had developed her own strong distaste for trying to be something other than she was. Not a clinical office worker, not a suit person, and very unlikely to record today's meeting for course credit given the location. Slowly she had been learning that there were some things just more important.

"Yeah, but if you add an 'e' to 'hat' you get 'hate' and I'd way rather hear about a rash of hat crimes," Aidan replies, relaxing a fraction more. Still antsy, though, even as he settles more comfortably onto the stool. "Can I get a... cream stout, please? If you have a nice one," he asks, and hesitates. "Um, so when it said parapsychology. That means you're not gonna decide someone's delusional if they're talking about weird shit, right? 'cause I can see you've got the kinda... spark, and all." Which probably isn't the sort of thing that's going to make him sound totally well-adjusted if that isn't what listing parapsychology means, but surely that's not the kind of listing that happens by accident, right? Either way, it's unlikely he'll be at all disappointed about it not being recorded.

"I only have mean ones, but I will still supply you with that." Maggi grins and disengages long enough to return to Aidan with a damn near perfect pour. To the rim, no excessive head, decently clear for a stout. This is no easy feat for any beer containing lactose either, but she had been practicing, She slides the glass to him and addresses the other of his concerns, leaning forward in a consistory fashion.

"I spent years studying what made people special , come to find my boring home town is a glittering congregation. You probably know this better than I given how much closer to the sun you are, Icarus." She tips her mane in reverence of his superior glow. "Also if one of the two of us was going to get judged as unhinged it's probably the girl who wrote a paper on humans as an overall lesser evolution and thus why extraterrestrials troll us with crop circles." Was she being serious about the last part? That was entirely difficult to tell. Perhaps it was part of her weird charm to say utterly ridiculous things. Or perhaps that paper had earned her a B minus. What a reasonable pair they made.

"Well, I mean, as long as they aren't cruel, I guess?" That's all anyone needs in their day, a malicious stout. Aidan gives the one he's given a very slightly wary look, but it probably isn't a judgement on the pour, which is indeed remarkably good. He may be waiting to see whether it has snide comments on his fashion sense to make. He doesn't wait all that long, though, before taking a sip, and seeming to decide it's acceptably civil. "Thanks," he says, quietly, and listens.

She gets a small, slightly wry grin out of him for the 'Icarus' remark. "I know that story," he murmurs, and he tilts his head in a 'welllll...' sort of way at the mention of her paper and effect on comparative judgement. "I, um. I mean there's official papers that say I am? Only not in those words 'cause it's not professional-sounding enough for them. And I mean. I do have manic episodes, if the meds aren't working right," he admits, still a little quietly. "That much they're right. But, like, for example, I really can set shit on fire by thinking about it, you know? I've always been able to. And they definitely put stuff like that down under delusions, so." He watches her, still a bit uneasy. She has the spark and she can clearly see it and knows it's a thing, so that helps. But things are... a little fragile, right now.

What neither of them actually knew was that the stout was making nefarious threats, however neither of them spoke fluent beer, so all in all it was harmless.

Maggi's thin lips remain neutral, despite her eyes which were always in some form of judgmental gaze. That was more just her face and less a commentary on what Aidan was telling her. "Pretty sure everyone has official papers some where that say some shit about them. Nothing wrong with taking care of yourself. You wouldn't expect anyone diabetic to function without treatment. The fire thing was the first bit I could do, just not reliably." She smiles a sideways kind of grin at him. "I have a working theory that the first thing someone is able to do is usually what's easiest for them honestly. Setting stuff on fire came first. Still working out if it is more about personality or situational factors."

The way she talks about this is as though it's the weather or some other perfectly mundane occurrence. "Not to say that you are by any means boring, just makes me wonder what we have in common." She has seemed to disappear into an academic portion of her brain, debating the age old nature versus nurture.

"Well, I mean, that's why I take those ones," Aidan says, nodding. Self-care! "What we have in common besides the fire? 'cause pretty sure fire was the first I could do, too. I dunno for sure sure, 'cause I don't remember that far back. But the first thing I do remember definitely being me, it was fire." A pause, quiet, and he takes a reasonable drink of his aggressive stout. If it's going to make good on those threats, he's probably got an hour or two's grace, at least.

That pause stretches a touch -- not in the sense of being objectively lengthy, really, but in that way that draws anticipation, that feeling of someone about to speak for longer than the run-up generally takes. "As far as I know I could always do it," is what he finally comes out with, softer. "And I wasn't even living here anymore, that first time I recall for sure. It's just so much easier here, and a couple other places I've been... but the fire was always there with me. It would pretty much always come when I called it, anywhere. And the flames would dance for me." His brow furrows. "They still come. But they don't dance for me anymore. Since about two months ago. I-- I don't know what I did." It's almost matter-of-fact, voice well under control, but the sense of loss still seeps through, particularly when he looks up from the glass to her again.

Maggi slams her hand down on the bar in excitement, the nicked wood relenting a thud from force. "Badass!" She exclaims, blue eyes wide with amazement. The idea of controlled flames and not just a force of destruction was the absolute coolest thing she had ever heard of. They could repair, so this made a lot of sense. They could finesse rather than destroy completely? Well, Aidan could, at some point. Maybe he could teach her like Thewlis had taught her to mend things. She was willing to bet she would be waaaaaay better at controlled and methodical destruction than pure force.

There is a glitter to her gaze now, admiring his abilities in the face of sorrow. This also supports her theory that this could be something people were born with or developed which was very interesting indeed. "Thewlis says there is another side, if you have always been able to command flame, it could be the peanut butter side of the sandwich rather than your jelly half." WSU was big on metaphors and the teaching style had leaked into her subconscious. This was an assumption as Maggi hadn't noticed a huge difference and had never been able to conduct fire.

Aidan was not expecting that, and startles at the hand-slamming, eyes briefly widening. It helps that it comes with that exclamation, at least. 'Badass' does not generally suggest a negative encounter to come unless it's being exclaimed at a donkey. He grins a little then, crookedly; appreciation is nice and a bit of a relief, but not enough to overcome the distress over the situation.

Her metaphor doesn't entirely land, unfortunately, leaving his brow furrowed. "Wait, what could be the peanut butter rather than the jelly? Also usually I eat both of those together?" A tilt of the head. He knows he's missing something, here. "What do you mean by another side?"

What?!?! Maggi was never the more informed on this area of expertise, it actually felt great. Aidan may outpower her, but it was kind of amazing to actually teach universal secrets you had worked so hard to uncover. Icy eyes glint with academia.

“You actually pretty much have the concept exactly! So when you eat the sandwich you rarely notice the individual bits because you are just used to it’s sandwichness. That’s kind of how we perceive reality a lumped together concept. To give you a different metaphor our side is like the faucet of a sink. You don’t really see the plumbing underneath, but one can influence how the other works. Between the two is something called the veil. It’s not like fun though on the other side. Unless you are into masochism. Not been on any field trips.”

Now who sounded like there should be official papers Aidan? Maggi doesn’t seem to care though, she’s just happy to talk about humans pushing boundaries. “I’m just saying like. I don’t think it’s your fuck up. Could be happening on the shitty Narnia side.”

She is smiling still, more joyful than anything really. Aidan was probably used to receiving mesmerized stares while performing and that was exactly what she was giving him.

The initial part of the explanation does not do anything to alleviate Aidan's confusion, his brow furrowing further as she talks and he takes a distracted drink of his beer. And then, when the word 'Veil' comes into it, one can kind of see where that whole lightbulb-for-idea concept came from, with the way his expression suddenly clears and brightens. It doesn't wipe away the hints of the unhappiness with things that brought him here, but he nods, and starts listening with a greater sense of actually following along.

When she gets to the straight-up version of what she means -- that it might be the Veil itself, not him -- there's another level to the epiphany look, though subtler, and with a thread of hope. "You think so? It could... maybe it could be. A few months back, before this, something changed that as far as I could tell DID hit almost everyone. Before that, if I was sitting here? I'm pretty sure I could've set anything in town on fire. I mean, if I wanted to, which I didn't, 'cause people, like... live there, and stuff. Now it's more like..." His eyes half-close, brow furrowing a little again as he looks off sideways into the distance, "...probably the pharmacy?" A mile or so, as the crow or possibly phoenix flies. "So you think maybe this is like that? just kinda... there's less people who're gonna notice, maybe. 'cause I dunno that many people they'd really do it for."

That little touch of hope wavers a little, then. "If it's not me, though. Then. Maybe I can't fix it." A pause, and his eyes widen slightly, focusing on her with something like horror, albeit decently-controlled. "What if one morning we wake up and it won't come at all?"

Now they were cooking with gas! Same brand, recipe, and all. Until...he starts talking about the change in things. Then, it is time for Maggi to look a bit confused. A student who didn't know it was test day. Her arms fold and she stands straight, head cocked. "Soooooo, I don't know too much about that part. I'm pretty new to this stuff so I had yet to get max range on abilities or anything, I was never so gifted as to control the nuance of a flame...I can still communicate with Leon mentally as I could...Nothing really changed for me. Maybe I just wasn't strong enough for it to really effect me? Something felt a tiny bit off but I thought it was me stopping putting a shot in my morning coffee."

She seems to consider his information carefully before making an admittance. "I was still sort of learning what I was capable of at the time." An idea seems to spark in her, removing the muddled expression. "What if we took that morose conclusion and flipped it Aidan?" Maggi seemed to bounce a bit with energy produced by her conclusion, she continues, "What if we figure out how to fix what happened on the other side to get back your control AND THEN you could teach me how to do that!!?!??" Frigid eyes beam with anticipation for his response.

In fact his proposal terrified her too. The idea that the thing she had waited for all her life would be taken from her without her consent, or the ability to fight it. The idea of losing something that had become such a huge part of her...To lose that connection with Leon...It was less a lack of acknowledgment of his spoken words and more that she couldn't even entertain a notion that would shatter her own life so completely.

"So... it's kinda weird, but, that's the one thing that it never seemed to matter exactly how far away? I mean, it was way harder to do most places than it is here, but talking to someone in their head, if they're down with it, I've known people who didn't seem like they had a whole lot of range with anything else, but that, that still went pretty far." Aidan takes a drink of the stout, brow creasing again. "Everything kinda... collapsed in, one day. Except it didn't seem like moving stuff did for me, but I was kinda really bad at it then. I'm better at it now, but, yeah."

The pure energy in Maggi's expression of her idea is contagious, and Aidan brightens almost automatically. "Think we can? I mean. 'cause yeah, that would be pretty kickass. Fixing the problem at, I guess the root, basically? Only." A slight dimming. "I dunno where we even start on that. I'm not really good at..." He trails off, unable to think quite how to phrase what it is they'd be attempting to do.

"I guess we'd... start by trying to figure out what caused the changes? Like, what things were going on then, maybe? Though it could be anything, like, if it was even something over here and not something that happened over there to people over there, or by people over there, we don't know for sure it wasn't, I dunno, someone drinking Mountain Dew and eating Pop Rocks at the same time. You know?" The tone is a little less enthused, but not defeatist -- there's a touch of hopefulness in it, like maybe she has a good answer for this.

So there were things that Aidan was still learning too? That was reassuring, maybe there was hope for her too then. "My guess would be because you can think as far away as you like? There is no real way to measure how far away a thought could travel right? It's a working theory anyway."

Maggi holds up a finger in pause as some dude with a haughty attitude taps his three-quarters empty glass. She makes a round about the bar checking on patrons with a sickeningly sweet as artificial as splenda. It was obvious that she enjoyed the craft and knowledge behind bartending, the in depth level of conversations that was possible, and not the customer service of random people. Were she to have ever worked retail she would have been one of those who spent a large portion on the day stamping 'sale's stickers to her forehead forehead from a sticker gun.

She returns to Aidan with another fresh pour, setting it next to his current drink. "Sorry about that, hate when people bitch in that passive aggressive way. He still had part of his drink left. I hate hovery bar staff when I'm out." Maggi raises an already arched eyebrow at Aidan in query. "Do you really think it's the poprocks? Could be right?" She can no longer keep a straight face trying to treat his joke as potential evidence. A non-zombified grin that only amplified how terribly fake the plastered one as she had done a lap around the bar emerges. "You aren't the only one stuff changed for so we could try asking around. The other option would be to try to find a work around for just the fire bit. Trying to replace the whole furnace is a lot, patching the system less so. We would just have to get to the other side and figure out how to do a patch."

When she got excited almost all her words were steeped in literary devices. Maggi was probably a lit major in another life.

"Maybe..." Aidan is, perhaps, not entirely convinced by that theory, but if so, it doesn't look like he can quite put his finger on why. He doesn't seem about to argue it, anyway, even before she's drawn away by having to deal with other customers. While she does, he nurses what remains of his stout consideringly. Could they really figure out the issue here and fix it? Was that the sort of thing people could do? Where would they even start? And what if that dude was cursed to explode if his drink ever ran out while he was still thirsty or something? You'd think that'd make you only ever drink at home with, like, way too many bottles handy just in case...

"Oh, hey, thanks," he says when she returns with another glass for him, and polishes off the first one in order to make the trade. "I mean... it probably isn't Pop Rocks? But I mean when we're talkin' about what makes it so our psychic powers suddenly change, I dunno what we can assume is dumb and what's not, you know?" It was a joke, mostly, but it's not entirely now that he's having to think about it. "...asking around might be a good start, yeah. Like. Did stuff change for you and when and do you have any idea why? Or remember what else was going on then? I dunno where we'd start with just the fire, though. And. If you patch the furnace instead of replacing it, isn't it kinda more likely to end up exploding?"

Were the man to in fact be cursed, Maggi could understand why. He was rude, and were she able to curse him or at him, she may. Currently he was a paying customer however, so that would need to be off the clock behavior. For all she knew being rude to those in customer service caused the shift in the veil. She nods to Aidan's 'thank you', at least he wasn't part of the problem.

"It could be, you never know. I also think you have a point, but we won't know until we get over there and figure out what happened. We can't know if it's a patch or replace job till we look. Not much changed for me but, I have been a bit of a slow learner on what I can actually do. It's more probable that something changed that I didn't know I could even do." She smiles at him reassuringly, a feat difficult given her personality. Something about being partially dead inside put one at a disadvantage for that sort of thing. "You still have your fire. Short of asking around we could try to track it to it's source with help? I'll try some forums first but, do you know anyone who can go over there?"

Literally cursing people is almost definitely in the 'Don't' section of the Employee Handbook anywhere but the Grizzly, surely. Though it might be less disruptive than just verbally cursing them, since they might not even need to be there for it...

Aidan would be pleased to be deemed not part of the problem if he knew about it, but alas he remains in a mild funk trying to think through all this. "So... we should probably ask people that stuff, though," he says, "'cause maybe it'll give us clues we'd need if we went over. Have you ever gone there on purpose? I only have once, and I think it's pretty... big. But-- but yeah. I've met a couple people who I know can do it, like, in passing, though I dunno if I can find 'em on purpose or they'd be into it. Though I think I know at least one guy who probably knows more people who can..." He thinks this over. "They might maybe want kinda more of a plan first, though? Which isn't what I'm totally best at. 'cause right now it seems kinda like..." He trails off a moment. "I mean we know kinda where we are and kinda where we wanna go but it's like we wanna perform at Carnegie Hall and so far we're pretty sure we know which direction New York is from here?" Look, he can analogize too! Sort of.

"If we'd both been over there lots on purpose we could at least see if anything looked like it changed that didn't usually change. So I guess... maybe finding out about someone who's done that lots could help, for getting there and also maybe telling if it's different." A pause. "And getting back out. 'cause that didn't seem super easy either, when the dude in the group I was with did it." He nods, as if this settles something. "We definitely gotta find someone good at Over There if we wanna try that." This arguably does not in fact solve the bigger issue there, but it brightens him up as if it might.

Aidan had been clever enough to keep up with Madsen madness thus far, she didn't question his mastery of literary devices for even a moment. She herself had only ever been dragged into a dream here or there...nothing like dealing with the entire other plane of existence. She would take an experts advice that they were dealing with a desert. Vast, dangerous, difficult to explore without the proper resources. In order to find correlation they couldn't look at causation in definite, just possible connection. This generates another idea. She was a good old fortune telling machine dispensing ideas out with lucky numbers.

"Your fire is still your fire though right? Like other than what you can do, it feels the same? Maybe we could get someone to follow what it pulls to over there. After we find like a guide person or whatever so we don't die of getting lost." The last part is the only section spoken with less enthusiasm. Maggi wasn't the strongest, or the fastest, but she was resourceful. In her mind, there was no question they would crack this eventually. She just had to help Aidan stay positive. "To Carnagie Hall we go then I suppose."

She had no idea what it took to get in and out of the Veil. This would not stop her from seeking out a crazy awesome addition to her abilities, helping a fellow fire folk, or doing more intensive research than she had ever dreamed. Maggi was going big picture here, forest, not trees.

Aidan's fire is still his fire? He cocks his head at that question, understanding blooming as she goes on. "Yeah," he confirms with a nod, "It still feels the same, except for-- well, except the obvious. I mean, that makes it feel different, but I think not the way you're asking. I dunno how someone'd follow it so I dunno who might be able to, but..." But if they could figure that out, it's an intriguing thought!

He looks at his new beer a moment, then takes a drink. "So, okay. We've decided... we think it's not me, prolly? That it's a thing that maybe hit everyone but maybe not a lot of us were in a position to notice that change? And that we should ask people if they noticed anything odd around then, and prolly try to find someone who knows the other side and how to get there and back really well so we can try to go and take a look. That's kinda... we have a plan, sorta. Yeah?" It's not what he came in for, exactly, but it seems like a decent thing to leave with.