2020-06-05 - Wellness Check

The days after the Asylum excursion have been fairly quiet while the residents of 13 Elm engage in various business - some together, some apart, as usual with two separate lives that intersect in various but very specific points. On her part, Isabella has bounced between fussing over her lover and fussing over her work; now that summer is upon them, she's been busy scheduling dives for herself and other colleagues in a few future conferences meant for marine archaeologists, while tackling the project that had brought her to Gray Harbor in the first place. Between her mother's death and the thesis-related stress of the last year, it's probably unsurprising that the contract is taking a while to fulfill.

She's able to prepare some food, at least - quick things that she can pop in the oven and chop up and toss with salad dressing. She picks up the tray full of lasagna and salad so she can deliver it to Alexander's office, balancing it deftly with one hand so she can knock on the doorframe with another. "You need to eat," she tells him as she ventures within. "And coming from me that's saying something, love. Don't make me find a funnel." The last is mostly a jest - though it's probably a safe bet that she's not about to forcefeed him like a goose well on its way to turning into foie gras.

The day is cool outside, Spring clinging stubbornly in the air - but it's not as chilly as it has been in the last several months. Perhaps the ridiculous Pacific Northwest wet is finally giving way to some warmth, but not without a fight.

Bennie sent Isabella a warning text that she was coming over, though the 'warning' was given when the Blonde was already standing on the doorstep with three quarts of ice cream already softening from the trip here from Safeway. Easton's Jeep is parked out front, Bennie reasoning that making use of the vehicle is economical of her time. Ironic that Easton, Isabella and Alexander went through all that trouble to get her free of her crushing debt allowing her to ease back from her work load, only to then have to take on the TiBs during it's busiest season. Moments after the text there is a knock on the door.

Alexander has been taking refuge in research. And long walks at odd hours through the town as things warm up. But mostly research. The post-it notes with their slightly unhinged scribblings have escaped the confines of the murder room, and a few are taking up refuge here in the office, tracking murders and disappearances across the Pacific Northwest. He jumps, starting when Isabella arrives, turning to look at her. He just blinks a couple of times, like he has to remember what this strange thing called 'food' is, but then he smiles. "Thank you, Isabella." He rises so he can take the tray and give her a kiss. "This is very kind of you." A pause. "Did you make it?"

As casual as he's trying to be about that question, there's still the sliiiightest edge of trepidation. Alexander's no cooking savant, but he doesn't set quite as much on fire as Isabella does when she cooks. There's a glance towards the door when there's a knock. "Are we expecting company?"

Green-and-gold eyes track over the post-it notes in his office, softening briefly - it's a fond expression overall when she always relishes this exercise, being able to visually track how Alexander thinks.

The gratitude gets a beaming smile, which changes comically when he asks her if she made it. "Relax, Marie Callender did," she says with a laugh. "I just popped it in the oven and followed the directions at the back of the package. I did make the salad, though. You're going to have to take me out back and wiffle-bat me if I can't manage to chop up raw vegetables and put them in a bowl without incident." Her burden relinquished, Isabella returns the quick kiss. "There's more salad and lasagna in the kitchen, I warmed up and chopped up extra since-- " Before she can continue her statement, the text chimes at her phone and she digs it out to peer at the screen. "....it's Bennie," she says, returning the device to its place against her person. "You, sit." She points to the living room with his tray. "I'll go get her."

And she does. She opens the door and smiles at the blonde. "Hey, Benz. We're just about to have lunch, you want some? Lasagna and salad."

"Looks like I brought dessert, then." Bennie hoists up the bag as if it escaped Isabella's view, and she wants her due credit. "When life takes a giant crap in your Cheerios, it calls for ice cream and we're in a giant litter box of breakfast cereal." She's not doing her fake smiling. She doesn't have to smile for the benefit of Isabella and Alexander, the test of a true friendship. "Uh, but sure, lunch sounds great." If all the scat talk hasn't turned anyone away from the thought of food.

"You did, which makes you the best by default," Isabella tells Bennie with a laugh, reaching out to give her a quick hug if she allows, then offers a hand to retrieve the ice cream so she can put it in the fridge. "I'll work up a couple of plates for us," she tells her. "Alexander's in the living room, eating like a proper human."

She'll usher the paramedic-waitress-interim bar owner into the house, before heading for the kitchen.

"Bennie." Alexander's expression lights up, and he slinks without argument towards the living room and the coffee table there. He doesn't sit at the couch, leaving that for the ladies, but takes a seat on the carpet, instead. Putting the tray down, he waves to the paramedic-now-bar-owner. "Ice cream fixes all things. Eventually. Either you feel better after eating it, or your arteries are eventually clogged, you die, and don't have to worry about anything anymore." His appetite is not affected by the talk of litter boxes, clearly. "What flavors of ice cream? And how are you doing?"

Bennie is all too happy to return the hug from Isabella, perhaps even clinging to the other woman a little bit longer than prudent. Ice cream relinquished, Bennie follows after into the living room proper. Where she promptly joins Alexander on the floor. Talk about death by Ben & Jerry's doesn't faze her, as it would be a welcome death to go by mint chocolate chip. Preferable, at least, to their real threats. "Honestly? I have no idea. I just saw the label of that fancy kind August likes, and I grabbed three at random after staring with the freezer case door open for like fifteen minutes."

Her hand reaches out to tap the carpet near Alexander's knee, but hopefully not close enough to make the man flinch. "You find your head?" Because last she'd seen him, he insisted it was gone.

A polite man would wait until everyone, especially the cook and the guest, have their food before eating his. Alexander just picks up a fork and knife and digs in. At least he chews with his mouth closed, and doesn't speak with his mouth full. He smiles at Bennie as she settles down on the carpet. "I did. Turns out it did not move from its place on my shoulders. Just felt like it did." His smile falters, and he pauses to eat another bite of pasta. "I'm feeling much better. How are you doing?"

"Still no word." Which in and of itself should be enough of an answer as to how Bennie's doing, but she adds, "And everyone keeps looking at me with those sad eyes, you know how much I like that." She doesn't seem to mind that Alexander has started eating, so long as he doesn't mind that she's snicking a piece of lettuce off the edge of his plate. Whether or not she receives a fork jabbed into her hand for her efforts remains to be seen. "Lilith and Byron stopped by the Twofer, and she gave me some juju to help with the pain but I'm on admin duty at the firehouse until it heals properly. Said I broke my collarbone rollerblading." She says of her broken wing that's in a sling across her chest.

"Oh, and I quit the diner."

Her mouth screws up to one side. "I'm sorry you got whammied. Honestly, I knew just a sliver of what was going on in the Asylum, but that seemed...rough."

"I'm glad that you quit the diner," Alexander says, after thinking about it for a bit. "A person really only needs three jobs at once. Four is just getting greedy." It's very deadpan, with a flicker of a smile towards her. His gaze drops to her collarbone, briefly, then to the sling. "Now you have to go rollerblading. Keep up the alibi." He takes another bite. "It's okay. I get whammied a lot. This one was just---usually it's after the fact. Someone's death that has already occurred. Being in the moment is new. Unpleasant. Even if I kinda wanted to kill her myself." He frowns. "But this was in the moment. It was," he pauses for a long moment, then settles on, "unpleasant," again.

"The Asylum was a terrible place." Another bite. "I think. It's...Isabella and I have been trying to talk about the Doctor, and what its motivations or the Asylum's purpose might be."

Bennie has to wrinkle up her nose in thought when she tries to count up the number of jobs. But if you subtract the diner, add the bar, carry the.. "Hey, I'm down to two now, thank you very much!" Well, if you don't count her side hobby of selling stuff on the internet, but that's fallen by the wayside lately, so it doesn't factor in! "Well, if you need a little happy juice boost again I don't mind. I'd rather use my powers for good." Rather than dropping an entire room full of patients and orderlies for example. "Could it have been some kind of experimentation? Harvesting our shiny bits, maybe?"

Alexander smiles, and shakes his head. "As lovely as your happy juice is, I think it best I remain legitimately discombobulated until I recover naturally." He suddenly makes a noise. Stares at Bennie for a long moment, expression in that blank flatness that means he's thinking really hard and not actually thinking about how someone would look dismembered, even if it really does look like that last thing if you don't know him well. Then he blinks, and looks away. "You've got a lot of juice, though. And I think experimentation, yes. But why? Harvesting seems...when Isabella comes back from the kitchen, ask her about the Doctor. It would seem odd that he would need to harvest anything."

"Of course." Says the woman who didn't even go to the hospital to get X-rays, but then again she's an EMT and this is sort of her bag, to know how injured she is, even if she can't Glimmer herself to find out. "Just let me know if it gets to be too much. Which you won't, but hopefully Isabella will just call me when you're rocking in the corner talking to the dust mites." Bennie smiles then, full and bright, even if it dims shortly thereafter by the notion of her 'juice'. She just gives a one shoulder shrug, looking uncomfortable about it really. "I promised Easton I would keep it in the bag."

Alexander sniffs. "The dust mites have a fascinating view on many things, you know. It's a very small view. But fascinating." He waggles a fork at her. "I will, if I need to. But really, I'll be fine. I have nightmares already. This isn't going to make them worse." Because they're already as bad as they can get, but he doesn't point that out. He just smiles at her. "Well. That's your decision to make, you know? There are a lot of benefits to trying not to use it. And it does get you unwanted attention. But it's always your decision. You're not betraying Easton, or anyone else, if you decide to use your abilities."

When Isabella finally returns, there's two plates - one with a 'girl' sized portion of lasagna, and one that's big enough to feed a small horse. Two guesses as to which plate is intended for which woman.

The archaeologist hands Bennie hers, before sinking on the floor on the other side of Alexander, because everyone is sitting on the floor, and she's not going to be the diva that lounges on the couch. "Ice cream is accounted for in the freezer," she says. "And sorry about that, I would've come in faster with hot food, but Blue Bell needed to argue with me about something." These days, she and the cat have long discussions, and usually about the man of the house. "I think the princess wants us to get a bigger bed so she can sleep with us, but I'm not sure." She could just be joking, though. Animals can't really talk, can they? "I told her no because we're very attached to the present size of it for certain reasons."

To their blonde visitor, she also hands her a glass of ginger ale on ice. "How are you, Benz? With the aches and pains?" The clarification is necessary - she knows what she must be feeling regarding Easton.

Clearly Bennie is reaching for the overloaded plate regardless, because mama needs to feed her misery. She manages to juggle it to a rest on her crossed legs before she begins stabbing at it with a vengeance, or rather a hunger, still not used to nabbing food at the TiBs like she used to at the diner and there is a chance she forgets to eat from time to time. "I talk to Gunner." She says companionably, as if to let Isabella and Alexander know they aren't crazy alone, talking to the cat and dust mites respectively.

Her hand curves over her mouth as she chews and talks, fork dangling from between her fingers. She's not near as polite as Alexander when it comes to feeding her stomach monster. "I was telling Alexander that Lilith helped with the pain, but you know. Can't take painkillers, so. Ice and the sling. I'm managing. But there was a ...shift... in the healing art after we left the asylum. I'm afraid to find out what that means for my abilities. So. Tell me about the Doctor. What's your current running theory?"

"Gunner seems like a good conversationalist," Alexander says, with a faint smile. He scoots a little when Isabella sits, taking a moment to gently lean his shoulder against hers, so lightly that it only barely registers as a touch. Then he straightens. "And Blue Bell is a princess. Her desires are to be listened to at all times." About this time, the cat strides by, tail in the air, looking every inch the princess he proclaimed her to be. He looks in that direction, and his expression tightens with sadness, for a moment.

"Not getting a bigger bed, though," he adds, after a moment. His attention shifts back to Bennie. "Was there?" He perks up. "What kind of shift? I rarely ever use mine, so I don't think I've noticed." The Doctor is Isabella's horrifying existential baby, so he lets her handle it.

The horse portion was for her, the horse, but Isabella is more than happy to relinquish the overloaded plate to Bennie - besides, there's an entire tray left in the kitchen. Alexander's brief lean into her has her flashing him a quick smile, before leaning forward to rest her chin briefly on that hard curve, green-and-gold eyes fixed on their guest. She can relate; the reason why she eats like a farm animal is because she also forgets to eat, though this has vastly improved since living with Alexander, who will remind her even if he has to bat at her head repeatedly with a pillow to make her look up from her work. "I've never met this famous Gunner," she says with clear interest - she is an unrepentant dog person. "With a name like that, I'm sure he is."

She lifts her head from her lover's shoulder at that, pressing a quick kiss on his cheek - she tries not to notice the glance he gives the cat, the sadness therein, but the fact that affectionate token is a timely thing suggests that she did - before shoveling a forkful of lasagna in her mouth. Still, the news about the shift in abilities for the healers has her furrowing her brows. "I've been experimenting with the limits of our abilities with a couple of others, but this is the first I've heard of any shift with the healing aspect. Could you describe it?" It's one that she shares with Alexander.

As for the Doctor? The expression on her face is indescribable but she says, with relative confidence: "He's our power," she tells Bennie. "As in, whatever gives us all of this? He's made of it. It would explain why Joe's lightning bent around him when he tried to attack him, and how the bullet Javier fired simply disappeared. Ancient, and at the moment, completely and utterly beyond any of us. He's a purely psychic entity."

"He's a gentle giant." Bennie says of Gunner down to her plate, using the side of her fork to cut off another bite from the corner of her lasagna, but this time it doesn't get speared and lifted to her mouth. Just toyed with. "Maybe you can stop by sometime soon. Meet him. Help me decide where I should put the furniture." See? She's setting up house, Alexander! Albeit slowly. "So I told you Lilith helped me, right? Well, I can feel she's stronger than I am. But. She couldn't just POOF me back to healed. I mean it's definitely better, just like she was able to encourage healing but not like...I mean, I've seen wounds just knit together and burns disappear in a blink. So what if the Doctor...sapped the juju out of those patient for himself? I mean, that would drive me crazy."

"You should definitely meet Gunner. He's very cute." Alexander is an animal person, and says this with very real relish. He also bestows a bright smile on Bennie as she mentions setting up furniture. But where the conversation goes next turns that into a thoughtful frown. He considers Bennie's sling. "How odd. Would you like me to try? I'm not strong in healing, but more data always aids in gathering a hypothesis."

At her last suggestion, Alexander gives Isabella a worried look. "Now that is an idea that did not occur to me. If all of that power has been stolen, through the ages..."

"I'd love to help," Isabella tells Bennie, warmly and genuinely. "I don't look like much but I can open boxes and move things. Maybe I can even help decorate!" Which may or may not inspire adoration or terror in Alexander both because the archaeologist is a beyond terrible artist. She cannot work crafts to save her life. It never stops her from trying anyway, but that way only lies Hell. "I'd love to meet the pupper."

She listens to the rest, nodding in encouragement when Alexander offers to try and heal Bennie. "I'd like to observe," she says. The worried look inspires her to rub her hand up and down Alexander's back. "That's not...beyond the realm of possibility," she admits. "But at the same time, it's just as likely that he also strengthens himself with the Veil itself. He might not even need to do that, so long as the Veil exists. But as Alexander sometimes says - insufficient data." She ponders. "I'm going to see if I can try to talk to Megan while Javier has her in his custody."

"If you don't," Bennie warns Isabella about helping, "I'll likely be sleeping on the floor with Gunner next to the wood burning stove for like, all of ever. I still can't bear to use the tub." And the tub is her usual safe haven. Her lips worry against each other as she continues to pick at her food, "I mean. I guess you guys can...experiment on me or whatever. Just...be careful." A thought occurs to her, and her head tilts. "The Dark Men. They say the feed on us, right? Our fears or glimmer usage, whatever. So what if the Doctor was inducing psychotic breaks and...well, feeding the Veil to feed himself?"

Alexander? Alexander looks pleased as punch with Isabella's offer and Bennie's acceptance of it. He notably doesn't try to insert himself into the middle of this girl-bonding/decorating disaster in the making. Nope. He just...enjoys the thought. And eats his lasagna, like a good boy.

Once he's eaten a couple of bites, he turns and reaches for Bennie's arm. He doesn't touch her collarbone, or even get near it. He just lets his hand hover above the wound, and his face goes blank. Bennie can feel, and Isabella can sense, the outflow of energy from the investigator to the paramedic. His eyes close, and he hums thoughtfully to himself. "This does feel...different. There used to be a sort of internal sensation of alignment when something that was wrong wasn't. But now, it's like an ache that decreases in intensity, but doesn't quite go away."

Never say that Alexander, too, can't be a trickster. And honestly, with so much psychic power and potential in the room it's downright miraculous that nobody can read each other's minds at the moment. What the god, Gray Harbor?

"I'll be there," Isabella promises with a laugh, reaching out to offer her pinky to curl into Bennie's, should she choose. And then she settles back to observe, extending her own abilities - they might be broken at the moment, but at the very least, her potency in that arena is gradually recovering. "That is different," she murmurs thoughtfully. "Interesting." She makes a mental note, and a reminder to herself to text Yule. It's likely that nobody's informed him yet. "Accelerating the body's natural propensity to heal itself, instead of erasing it entirely, you think?" she wonders.

Bennie's theory about the Doctor gives her pause. "That's possible, too," the brunette confesses. "All I know for sure is that we've never encountered anything like him before and that the Veil has a symbiotic relationship with Gray Harbor - big changes here affect there, and vice-versa."

"Deal." Pinky promises are bonds, and one the Blonde suddenly seems heisitant to make, but eventually her finger curls into Isabella's and she gives a little shake to seal it accompanied by a faint smile. She makes a face before Bennie closes her eyes as Alexander reaches for her, going still as if not sure what to expect at a second attempt at her shoulder and then a scan from Isabella. "Right?" She says of the shift. "So the Asylum...dissolving or whatever obviously either released something or sucked something out of us. Which is SUCH GREAT NEWS."

Alexander thinks about it, then gives a slow nod to Isabella. "That would seem to match the available data. That's what it feels like, anyway. So, uh, no one go get yourself sliced open to an artery, because I don't know that we can stop you from bleeding out, now." He takes another bite of lasagna. "Although it does mean the hospital doctors won't have to lie quite as hard as they did."

He smiles at Bennie. "It's not really great news," he informs her, solemnly. Then a pause. "Oh. You were being sarcastic. Sorry. Um. It's not entirely bad news, though, either. Every time we change something, we learn a little bit more."

"Every time something big happens over there, our powers shift. Same with the funeral, when Billy closed the door on his way out and suddenly, our powers don't reach as far," Isabella reminds her companions. "When FCN crumbled to dust and the Vivisectionist died, something changed - I felt it, but I'm not quite sure what it did. Not as apparent as this new one, I think. Something happened to the Asylum and now the way we heal changed. And Thomas Addington...when he died, something changed, also, and everyone felt it. It follows a pattern, at least, the changes vary, but always regarding our gifts. There's definitely a connection, but what it actually means is a mystery still. Something we're going to have to try and crack open, I think, if not just to prevent any of us from getting hurt or dying."

"Mmm." Bennie intones lightly, "I think I'm going to leave this one with the brain trust. I really ought to be getting back to the bar." She looks down at her plate, sucking her bottom lip against her teeth. "Can I maybe take this to go? I'd hate it to go to waste, and I can eat it when I'm doing the closing paperwork."

Alexander gives Isabella a look at her assertion that they'll have to crack open the mystery...but he doesn't disagree. He just says, "Maybe we could find a way to do historical research on previous changes in abilities? These can't be the only times its happened." And then Bennie is moving to go, and he rises to his feet, reaching for her plate. "I'll wrap it in some film for you, so you don't spill it. And get your ice cream." He offers a smile. "It's good to see you, though. Always."

"...some of your ice cream," Isabella rejoins, shifting her eyes sideways, because while she's not a big fan of sweets, she makes a decided exception for ice cream and some of the flavors Bennie mentioned earlier sounds great. She, too, rises, though she lets Alexander take the plate to wrap up. With friends parting ways again, she moves over so she can give the paramedic a hug - it's a tight, long and lingering thing. And while not necessarily good at expressing her feelings through words, she's less shy about it with her body.

Damn Physicalists.

"Thank you." Bennie says quietly, lifting her plate to Alexander's waiting hand. "I'm glad you found your head." She smiles up at him, soft but genuine. "But be careful with that always bit, or you'll end up with me living in your tub again." The blonde turns her attention to the hug, folding herself into it gratefully. Sinking into it, even, as if it's a tether and she's in danger of floating away. There's a little sniffle, and Bennie pulls away with one last squeeze of Isabella's shoulder with her good hand. "Decorating soon, yeah? We'll make a pajama party out of it. Gunner's gonna love you."