2020-07-30 - Talk Glimmer to Me

It's not every day in Ravn Abildgaard's life that he brains a woman with a shoe in a thrift shop; or anywhere else, for that matter. He just did, though, and while fortunately, she saw the humour of the moment, he still feels rather embarrassed about it. He's certainly not sorry to escape the shop, trailing after the white-haired Lyric as she makes her way homewards with her loot. "Mind if I tag along? I've got nowhere else I need to be until tonight -- nothing to clean at a bar until people have been there and, you know, made it dirty."

Surprised he follows her, Lyric doesn't look upset about it. It's the opposite, in fact, she looks welcoming as he joins. It's not too far to her house. The house she shares with three other people. It's not perfect condition by any means. They're struggling artists and all with second jobs leaving the band more as a hobby. The younger ones of the group anyway. Itzhak doesn't live there but he was a new addition to the rest of them. While he walks up beside her she gives him a warm smile looks towards the house. It has a garage and a front porch with a roof over it at least. "Please do," she says simply.

As they approach the house though, she climbs up the few steps, "Wanna come inside while I put these things away?" Leaving it entirely up to him as she reaches for the door handle and turns it before pushing open the door. "I got things to drink in the fridge if you want?"

"Sure and sure, if I'm not imposing." Ravn looks around with the interested expression of someone who is seeing things in real life that he only has read about before, or seen on TV. There's nothing judgemental in his expression, certainly no scoff -- just plain curiosity, the kind you'd expect to see in a face that has literally travelled half-way around the planet to see something he didn't grow up with. "I guess I'm a little inclined to cling to the one person who's given me pretty straight talk about things here, and seems friendly. Also, I'm going to hide behind you if that lady turns out to have a boyfriend who doesn't appreciate his girlfriend getting shoed in the face."

"Oh you're not. Not at all." Leading him inside, well.. opening the door and letting him follow her inside,

OOC: desc incoming

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Medium sized house, that sums up life in on Elm. Each driveway has enough room for two cars to park in a garage. On the decking out front there are potted plants. Around the base of the house is mulch and a small landscaped area with a few rose bushes and flowers and plants.It's an obvious attempt to make it look better than it actually is.

The interior is clean. The living room is the first room, it's plenty big for the several people living there. A hardwood floors and a few well placed throw rugs. A well worn large dark blue sectional seats several and has recliners built in with a few blankets folded and placed over the back of it for if someone gets cold. A scuffed coffee table immediately in front of it offers a place to rest food or drink or anything on it. Against another wall there is a television on a stand.

Immediately to the right is the kitchen with a fair sized table, a refrigerator, stove, a microwave and a couple of other small appliances like a blender and a toaster. There's even a dishwasher! While none of the appliances are new, most are in good working order. Not the dishwasher of course.
Down a hallway to the left from the front door leads to the two bedrooms and the guest bathroom.

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The things aren't placed down in the living room though, she tilts her head to the side towards the hallway. "I'm in this room. We used to all share a room with bunk beds, but I wanted my own so when Cole moved out, I moved in his room. It's nice. Park is gone a lot with her girlfriend so I stay here mostly." Walking over to the bed, she places her new purchases down then turns back to see if he followed after she'd invited him to. "Wanna talk in here or the living room?" Leaving it completely up to him.

"Either's fine by me." Ravn looks around, taking in the sights here too. "I mean, I'm sure your roomies don't bite. This place kind of reminds me of the dorm I stayed in while I was at university... You'd be surprised how much of a mess four young guys can make in a year."

He wanders around a bit, looking at things and glancing out the window at the rose bushes and flowers; they may be paint on a dead horse, so to speak, but they still improve the dead horse's general appearance. There's something to say for making the attempt. "Heh. What about yourself? Boyfriend, girlfriend? Not that it's any of my business, just -- you know that's one thing people warn travellers against. Reading the situation wrong, that is. I'm not trying to pick you up, all right? There, all clear on that."

"I wouldn't be surprised at all. Living with those guys.." A shake of her head and a small laugh before Lyric walks over and perches on the edge of the bed, as good a place as any to talk.

His question and following comment leaves her a touch uncertain but she is honest in her response. "No boyfriend. I'm not into girls though so not that either. Not dating anyone. Mostly cause everyone here? I know them and they know me. It'd be like dating my family. Kinda like Alexander said before. And I don't know my father, so I don't even know who I'm related to. It'd be kinda weird."

Brows lift though at his quickness to clarify and she laughs. "I get it, you're not flirting or trying to pick me up pr date me. I won't mistake that."

"I've had a couple of misunderstandings," the Dane notes and wanders over to sit down next to Lyric. "Both kinds -- people who offered me a place to sleep and expected, uh, something in return. And girls who thought I was creeping on them when I genuinely was just looking for a place to sleep. Although, from the stories I've heard from other backpackers, at least I'm a six foot three male -- it's apparently a lot worse if you're a girl and not looking like you could fold a guy down the middle for looking at you wrong. People are assholes, sometimes."

"I'm not offering you a place to sleep. And you don't intimidate me cause I've proven I can hold you down if I wanted to." Lyric scoots back on the bed a little and removes her Converse before dragging her socked feet all the way on the bed and crossing her legs, then looking back at him with a smile. "Some people are, yeah. But not everyone is. You don't gotta worry, I'm not trying to make things awkward and be all flirty with you or anything, cause awkward isn't all that fun."

"Naw, that's fine," Ravn says and leans back a little. "I don't think I could intimidate anyone if I tried. That bloke at the shop right now -- he was a bit intimidating. There was a moment there I genuinely worried he was going to punch someone in the face. Pretty intense fellow."

He cants his head, looking at the woman next to him. "Everyone here seems pretty intense, to be honest. I didn't really believe all this murder motel, dead bodies pond and whatnot stuff at first -- I'm not really sure I'm buying all of it yet anyhow -- but I do think people here are scared. It's in your faces. A glance here. A warning there. Everyone acting as if they're sort of... waiting for something bad to happen. I had my first work shift last night down at the beach bar and the patrons -- same thing, you know? I'm used to how it is in small towns, you're the outsider, folks look at you like they're wondering why the cat dragged you in, but here is ... it's a lot more intense."

"Alexander? He wouldn't punch you. Or anyone. He'd have to touch you to do that. He may lightning bolt you, but he'd not punch." If indeed that was Alexander's sort of thing. Lyric seems to think so anyway.

"I agree though, most people here are like that, really intense. Everything people told you is real. Last night I was in a dream with Grant Baxter, Vyv from the Patisserie and August. August grows trees and things, he's a really, really good guy. He's most people's sort of.. father figure. I mean, not mine, it's not like that, but he seems super smart and full of lots of information. He'd be good to learn from. I could introduce you to him."

She'd gotten off track so she directs things back that way. "Last night in the dream we were at the beach. The kids were disappearing and they were going underwater. So we all went out there. When we did, we were taken deep underwater and turned into merpeople. It's weird, I know. But that's just one dream. In another, It was like I believed there were things crawling beneath my skin, sort of like scarabs or something. I freaked out and exploded a wall. People were hurt from the splinters. Its real, everything is real when you're in it. Then when you get out? It's real. It really happened. You go to bed, you sleep, you go places. Or you walk through a door and suddenly everything is changed. I agree, people here are intense. Probably scared, but we protect our own. Our friends."

Ravn listens carefully to everything Lyric says. Only when she is indeed reaching a natural break does he respond -- one item at a time. The Dane seems to be possessed of an analytical mind; the kind that carefully examines facts, labels them, and sorts them into their appropriate boxes before shelving them in his mind's library for future reference.

"Lightning bolt," he notes, and does indeed look as if he's considering taking the idea at face value. He's seen people -- the people sitting right next to him at that -- float straws, and glue him to a chair with the seat of his own pants. Maybe lightning bolts are... not as Dungeons & Dragons as one might think. At least it might be... reasonable... to keep the door open to considering this notion. Just in case.

"I think I met August at the bar last night too," he proceeds to the next item on his mental list. "Older fellow. Said his sense of taste was ruined. Looked absolutely miserable -- he was with the pawn shop lady, Lilith. Gave me that look of who the hell are you and what do you want here too -- I mean, I'm getting very used to that. I should take you up on that introduction actually. Might learn a few things -- and you know how it is, people don't fall into a philosophical debate with the guy who's picking up the dirty glasses when they've finished their drinks."

Then Ravn circles back mentally to the magic bit. I exploded a wall. People were hurt. We protect our own. "So I'm guessing that the lesson to learn here is that if I want to stick around Gray Harbor and find out more about this whole... power we have... I need to become our own. Instead of being a random tourist who blew into Main Street last week and hasn't figured out that moving on would be the smart choice yet. I guess that's what I should be working on, then. I did make an an appointment to see a man about a boat."

"Yeah somethin' like that. People use guns too in there if they don't have all the strong powers and all. It's somethin'' people can do." Lyric offers, since not everything is magic. The hem of her shorts gets her attention briefly and she tugs on a frayed thread as she ponders about August and the locals. "He's an older guy. I think he's gettin' married to Eleanor. They're both really nice. He'd be a super good person for you to meet because he knows much more about things than I do." A wry look when he mentions his position at work, but she doesn't refute it.

Her eyes lift from the hem of her shorts to him again and she gives him a crooked sort of smile. "I don't think of you as a random tourist who blew into town. Hopefully we'll be friends. It's good to have friends. If you do move on, would you let me know first?"

With a head tilt, there's a curious light in her eyes, "A boat? You wanna buy a boat? Do you fish?" It ignites so many more questions though, about the man and his interests. "Do you swim or anything?"

Ravn laughs softly at the woman's enthusiasm. "I'm Danish -- we're an archipelago, there's no place in the country you're more than an hour away from the coast. Sailing is practically a national pastime. That said, no, I just considered renting one -- you know, somewhere to sleep, keep spare clothes and maybe go for a trip around the bay every once in a while. I can stay afloat, I figure, but I'm not a particularly strong swimmer, no."

Then he sobers a little and nods his agreement. "I don't think I'll be going anywhere else soon. I thought it was pretty funny at first, the whole Hotel California vibe you folks have going here but... I mean, I've been here less than a week and I already got a job and somewhere I'll probably end up renting. If that's not life hinting to me I'll be staying around for a while, I don't know what is -- and then there's that whole shine thing. I was quite serious when I said I'd never met anyone else who could do that sort of thing. And not only can you do that sort of thing, you're a hell of a lot better at it than I am, and you're telling me it's normal around here."

"I admit I don't know anything about where you're from. I guess I shoulda paid more attention in geography class. I like the idea of being surrounded by water though. I love going to the beach and swimming. Even if bad things sometimes happen in the water, it happens on land too, so ya can't blame the water for it." Perking up, she grins. "You're going to get a house boat? I guess the waves would sort of rock you to sleep. You'll sleep all the time," she teases.

Keeping the smile in place she changes position a little and bends her knees, drawing them beneath her chin only to wrap her arms around her legs and regard him a moment. "Yours may grow stronger. You fit here, this place sort of draws in people who aren't really locals but fit in like they were. You'll meet others, others like me. But everyone is different."

Lifting her chin off her knees she laughs a little. "People tell you where you shouldn't go, but some fun places, if you ever want to go to them, the carousel at the Addington House, the ferris wheel at the boardwalk which is nearby Sweet Retreat, which is an ice cream shop, those places are good. The Waffle Shoppe is good. The Grizzly Diner is weird with the bear thing and the people who work there are not really into good customer service," a grin at that, "but the food is good. There is the Firefly Club if you like to party. And weird dance battles. A lot of things to do."

"The omelette at the Grizzly Diner was in fact the very first thing I was specifically warned against here," Ravn notes. "Apparently it is haunted and bordering on the murderous. I shall have to brave it some day, just to find out how terrible it is."

He glances at Lyric speculatively a moment before sitting back, palms on the mattress behind him to support his weight, stretching his legs. "What you said earlier -- about being related to everyone. It's like that in my town as well. That joke we have, that everyone's either old class mates, cousins, married, or a combination of the three, it's pretty much truth. I guess the main difference is that back home, people don't blow in on the breeze and stay around for some reason -- they tend to just keep moving. We're a town of seventeen hundred people, so to me, Gray Harbor is pretty decent sized. Seattle's got more people than my whole country."

"Does it?" Curious at that, Lyric tries to imagine a place so small but doesn't seem to get the imagery in her head. "Will you tell me about your home? I've never really left here, We were gonna go do a gig before but we never really made it there. It was in Seattle. So maybe one day I'll go there and see, but I don't have a car or anything, so maybe not."

Lyric does seem genuinely interested in his past so she looks at him expectantly to sort of fill in the blanks. "You can tell me about where you come from and where all you've been if you want. It'd be cool to listen to."

Ravn raises his eyebrows, clearly surprised. "Denmark is... I guess, I never thought of it as very exotic or exciting? Everything is a lot smaller and, I suppose, often a lot less colourful. We have this idea that Americans do everything big and flamboyant, though to be honest, I think that's largely because we get most of our impressions of your country from Hollywood. I think the biggest difference, though, really is the scale -- I can't think of anywhere in Denmark you can go where you can turn all the way around yourself and not see a single sign of human life. There'll be a house, a barn, a road -- something. Not like here where you can walk into one of those Natural Parks and literally not see another human being for a week. That sort of thing blows my mind, all the space you've got."

"I never thought of it like that. The vast spaces an' all. I guess we all just don't see it as much as people from other places do since we've never known anything different." Resting her chin on her knees again she looks to be musing over it in her mind, certainly thinking on things. "What was it like when you first learned you could do things? That you could move things with your magics?" Shifting her eyes to him, she nods towards his shoes, "You can kick those off and get on the bed better." There's like a zillion pillows. Well, not that many, but there's lots of pillows and each in a variety of boisterous colors and shapes. The bedroom doesn't have any photos or anything. No computer or television. A phone charger the only real sign of technology.

The Dane kicks off his boots and puts his feet up, making himself comfortable; he is, on the whole, a pretty relaxed fellow at most times. "I honestly don't remember. I can't have been very old. I remember doing things -- opening the window latch so I could get out of my room, but way before that, it'd be getting things I wanted. My mum might put something on a shelf to put it outside of my reach and I'd look up at it and want it to fall down, and then it would. When I grew older I did tricks -- mostly to impress the other kids, I admit. It was just this thing I could get away with because everyone knows magic isn't real."

He looks over at Lyric and then laughs. "And then some white-haired girl glued me to a chair in a coffee bar. So magic clearly is real, and I'm still trying work out how you did that. And how you can be so very casual about it, like that sort of thing happens once a week and it's hardly worth raising an eyebrow about. You realise that there are people who made an entire career out of bending spoons without touching them or moving things with their minds, and you put them all to shame without even trying?"

"So it's like it's always been then. Like it's always been part of you? Me too, it just always was. I don't know why, when I was little, I didn't think about it, but I think my mom had it too. The shadow men came. Or I guess they call 'em the Dark Men, but they're like shadows and they attack people who use their powers. Or overuse them maybe? People who do things they shouldn't do with them." Lyric has seen them, she has a healthy.. or unhealthy fear of them

Catching that look to her she laughs in response, "The clothes. Your clothes. Your gloves an' all. I can hold them down. If you weren't wearing them maybe I couldn't do it. I did throw a zombie at a sea hag once cause both were attacking other people in the Dream. Dreams.. if you ever have one, I hope I can be in it with you. They're sometimes scary. Just.. when you get in one, don't think it's just a dream and not really real. Every dream just assume it's real and you'll have to follow through with what it guides you to do, or you won't get out. If there's a door, it probably needs to be opened. If there's only water, you probably gotta go in it. If there's innocent people, you should try an' save them. Just follow your instincts and you'll proooobably get through it." Maybe.

"From everything you're saying about dreams, I kind of hope you can be with me in my first too," Ravn murmurs. "Mostly so that you can tell me what's going on and what direction to run in, because let me be honest -- they sound absolutely terrifying. And 'dark men' doesn't sound very reassuring, either. You're not even joking about zombies, are you?"

For a moment his voice sounds like he's considering reconnecting with reality as most people know it; writing Lyric off as a nut job or frequent acid dropper. Then he shakes his head and seems to accept that wild as her stories may be, they probably do have at least an element of truth. She glued him to a chair just by looking at him. That's a very good argument right there. Very hard to dispute.

"There can be anything in Dreams. Anything you've ever imagined and some things you haven't. Flying bats so big they can carry you. Books that do bad things. Water that is so icy cold you get so many bad burns from it." There's a note of sadness in her voice at the last one but she forces a smile as she lifts her eyes to him again. "There are bad things everywhere, but in Dreams they all wanna hurt you." Dropping her knees down she sits cross-legged again, lacing her fingers together on her lap. "I befriended the bat though and when I'm over there, he comes to me if I want him to and he will fly me places. Some things are good. Some things aren't so evil."

The smile turns a touch more genuine as she watches him, seeing things, thoughts and emotions running through his head, but she doesn't try and capture any of those, leaving him to his privacy. He does appear a little contemplative to her though and she continues to study him a moment. Finally, she says quietly. "I hope your shine does get stronger so if or when you do Dream, you are able to fight back better."

"And I will have to." It's not so much a question, really. So far, anyone who has mentioned dreams to Ravn have been quite clear on that part. "There's no such thing as a good Dream, is there?"

"It's funny," he muses in a tone that hints that he doesn't think it's very funny at all. "I've had nightmares all my life. But it never occurred to me to think that there might be more to things than just... bad dreams. Didn't think that there might be something else. Do you even know what it is -- why it is? I mean, what is actually going on here? Why does all this happen?"

"A good Dream? I've had a good Dream and I have a loyal following of Gingerbread men with cotton candy hair." Lyric has to laugh at that, realizing how incredibly crazy she sounds having said it. "I mean, you can still get hurt in one. Like in the last one like it, my mouth was burned and I couldn't taste things for weeks! It's like Mario Kart, we all have race cars like on Wreck it Ralph, candy cars. We have to race through fudge and things and obstacles to get through. It's super fun though. Not everything is bad. Sometimes it just seems like it."

With a shake of her head, Lyric looks uncertain. "I don't know why it is or even what it is. All I know is that there may be more answers from others, people who've studied the things. I don't know them though. There are other places though, places I've heard are like here. Where the wall between the worlds is super thin."

Ravn stares blankly a moment. Wreck It Ralph is a reference he actually gets. His mind wanders off to little animated princesses in candy cars and roads where the asphalt is licorice and the street lights are lollipops. You can almost hear the gears in his mind go on strike.

He shakes his head, clearing the mental imagery. "But on the bottom line -- fun or not so fun -- Dreams are real. Like the Matrix. You die in the Matrix, you die for real. That's how it works, yes?"

It's the blank stare that gets her, Lyric overloaded his mind! At least she didn't mention the exploding cats! With a giggle that starts out small she ends up laughing, wrapping her arms around her stomach. "I broke Ravn." Though really it's probably not funny and as the question at hand turns more serious, very much so, she nods, eyes a touch wide. "Yes, you die in there, you die for real. You get lost in there? You're gone from here."

"You broke Ravn," Ravn confirms. It's hard to not laugh along; crazy as it all seems, Lyric's attitude about it all is pretty laid back -- bubbly, even. He shakes his head and smiles. "As long as I don't need to put on a princess costume... Right. No dying in dreams. Can't say I've ever dreamt I died before, not going to start now. I don't suppose that dream catchers are a thing around here?"

"You can try one. I don't know if people use them, but I don't. I just go with whatever comes." Lyric draws her gaze over his frame, imagining him in a princess costume. "You'd make a good Princess, but a better Prince. There are guys in the dreams too. They are very competitive in the racing ones and they're not princesses. But you can be a princess if you want to. We could even have a tea party but around here it'd be more like the Mad Hatter tea party."

The Dane laughs again. A voice in his mind keeps telling him that this is all very serious, and he should be very serious about it, the seriousness of it all -- but honestly, come on, gingerbread men, Wreck It Ralph, and himself in a pink princess costume. Maybe it's better for one's mental health to laugh, indeed. "I'll admit, I don't usually remember much of my dreams in the first place. I used to dream a lot as a kid that somebody was chasing me, and I get the recurring 'oh god I'm somewhere important and I'm naked' one that I think everybody gets but..."

His laugh sort of draws her in and Lyric shows her appreciation by giving him a bright smile. "The fun dreams make the bad ones easier to take sometimes. I always remember these Dreams. But the regular ones? I don't really remember so much. Maybe you won't ever have a Dream like that. It'd be good if you didn't, but if you do, just be smart and never assume a rock is just a rock or anything."

"So what do you do? Is there some kind of... survival guide? Don't look down, or, don't eat or drink anything in Fairyland, or some other rule?" Ravn raises his eyebrows. "If this was a fairytale, I'd say, bring something cold iron -- like a horse shoe or a handful of nails, or a salt shaker. The faerie traditionally cannot tolerate cold iron or salt. But that's not the kind of thing we're looking at here, is it?"

"Mostly when you go into the Dreams you don't get to grab things to take. One minute you're just there. Unless you slept with those things in your pocket or had them on you at all times, it couldn't be done I don't think." Lyric does consider it though, "All I take is my powers. The things inside the Dreams? I guess they all have their own weaknesses, but the powers just seem to be able to adapt to what is needed."

"And that's why... having stronger powers would be good." Ravn nods. "Yeah. That makes a lot of sense. Guess being able to do a few quick card tricks and swipe a house key out of someone's pocket isn't really going to cut it. Not if what you can do isn't quite enough to impress anybody."

"Yeah!" The conversation had gone full circle now and Lyric sits up a little straighter. "Do you know how to cook or anything? What kinds of food did you have where you're from? I bet there's a lot of things you tried in all your travels." Just to lighten the subject a little, turning it towards something more universal. "And do you like cotton candy and gingerbread?"

"I'm okay with the basics," Ravn nods. "Don't ask me to cook you a five star gourmet meal though. I think we're mostly famous for those little cookies that any actual Dane will confide in you are really a secret weapon in our quest for world dominance -- they taste like cardboard and we actually invented them as ammunition. And we made you all buy into them by putting them in tins that make for really handy containers for thread spools."

He chuckles, not missing the point of what Lyric is doing, derailing the discussion. "Gingerbread kind of reminds me of home too. We have a tradition with gingerbread cookies for Christmas. You buy a gingerbread heart for people you're fond of, and it'll come with a small glitter-covered picture of an angel or Santa Claus that you can peel off. You get them for family too, not just girlfriends."

"I can do basics too, I went to a cooking class with my old roommate Cole. He was a ballet dancer, he was pretty fun to hang around. He's gone though." As if gone is inevitable or something. "Those blue tins with those one cookies in them? I got one for Christmas once from a boss where I used to wait tables. The cookies are good. Were they really ammunition?" Taking him at his word and soaking up all the historical facts he delivers. Taking them all as fact.

With a nose crinkle she laughs, "Gingerbread is good, but fruit cake is so.. soo.." giving an involuntary light shudder, she says quietly, "That should have been the ammo. Everyone would run away." The story that accompanies his mention of the gingerbread brings a sort of whimsical smile. "I guess I could give it to friends, but I don't got the family or the girlfriends. Or the boyfriends," another crinkle of her nose at the last. "Pretty sure you'll find people here, a girlfriend and stuff, you'll have to send home for some of your cookies. You're a good guy, you'll do good here."

"Nah, we get them with coffee in cheap hotels, that sort of thing." Ravn shakes his head, making a mental note to hold the tall tales. "Most Danish people find the cookies to be really, really boring, though. The kind of thing Grandma serves if she doesn't like you well enough to actually go to the shop and get a proper cake, nevermind baking one. Think I'll... find something nicer, if I should end up with a girlfriend at some point, though. Something that's not cardboard with sugar on."

Then he backtracks slightly, displaying that analytical thinking again. "When you say gone, I'm guessing you don't mean that Cole moved to Portland."

"But it's a good story and it sounds like a fun tradition. I don't have any traditions so I was just thinking that one sounded kind of fun. Part of the fun would be laughing over the cardboard cookies." Lyric shrugs, just a slight lifting of her shoulders. "You still have six months 'til Christmas."

His question in regards to Cole and she smiles, "No, he's not gone like that. He was new to town and somehow he found the way to leave. I used to always say people always leave, and really, they do mostly, but some don't get away as easily as Cole did."

"So people do leave. Good on Cole -- from the way you say it, Cole did the right thing." Ravn smiles lightly back. "Have you ever -- tried to leave, Lyric? Just, pack a bag, hitch a ride, go where your feet take you?"

"I'm glad he got out. He was a good guy. I think he missed his family is all." Lyric shakes her head at the question though, an easy answer that one. "I don't have anywhere to go. I don't know anyone else anywhere. Here, at least, some people care about what happens to me. Here, when I go into Dreams, I can trust the people I'm there with. When I turned eighteen and was no longer in foster care, the very day, I was on my own. " Probably since before then, really. "The people here hired me so I could get a place to live, so eventually, I moved into the trailer I lived in when I was a kid. I guess I just stay cause it's the familiar."

Ravn leans back on his hands, sitting on the bed. "It is funny," he agrees. "You stay here because it's familiar. I left home for the same reason. I've got a home, but it's never felt like one. That's what's so weird about this place... It feels like I should be here. I've never been anywhere before that did. You must think I'm a complete overseas whack job by now."

"You can be the overseas whack job and I'll be the local one." Lyric gives him a crooked smile. "I'm glad it feels like home. Means the locals are doing their job in welcoming you. Some? The first words are.. you should leave. And that's true. You really should but if you get stronger, and things happen away from here, there's not so many people able to help you with it."

Ravn dips into a pocket in his jeans only to procure a coin; some foreign denomination, smaller and lighter than a dollar. He spins it, and lets it wander up and down his knuckles, looking at it absentmindedly. "What happens to people when they do get stronger? Do they leave? God, I swear, Lyric, I have so many questions I don't even know where to start. I'm part fascinated, part terrified. It's like being in a Stephen King movie, you know? You know that the sane thing to do is get on the first bus but you also know that you won't. Because you'd be spending the rest of your life looking back and asking yourself, I wonder what I could do if I knew a bit more."

"People can get stronger, just practice it and concentrate on it." Lyric seems as fascinated by his talent with the coin as he seems to be absentminded about it. Her eyes watch the movements, following them. "I think the ties here are so strong and the move powerful you are the stronger they get. I don't really know that as a fact, but it feels like it." Lips slant into something of a smirk but almost a smile. "Stephen King should have been from here. Maybe Dante is the next Stephen King but with first hand knowledge. I wonder if Stephen King is someone like us with the Shine and stuff. I wonder if he's really seen some of the things he writes about."

"Kinda hope for his sake he hasn't, because he's written some pretty creepy stuff, " Ravn murmurs. "Is that the... formal name? The Shine? How can you even tell? I look at you but I don't see anything special."

He pauses. Manners, Ravn. Don't be a dick. The girl is not exactly ordinary looking, with her snow white hair and curious clothing style. "Well, I see a lot of special, but not that kind of special."

"I don't think it's called the Shine really. People call it other things. I think I heard Glimmer or something. But it sounds weird talking to someone else. It's sparkly though. Mostly glowing around someone who has it, like an aura or something. You're just naturally drawn to them, I guess?" Lyric stumbles a little over the explanation. The special thing, that just makes her laugh. "You don't have to say things like that. I'm just me, the weird girl from the trailer park. I know where I fit in." A pause before she adds. "And where I don't."

"I don't see it. The ... glow thing, I mean." Ravn smiles. "But I also don't see why you'd be hard on yourself. You've been nothing but nice to me, and I don't think I'm all that special. Some people are just nice. Or maybe I'm shit at reading people, but I don't think I am."

"Not really hard on myself. Not so much. I just know in this town there are the haves and the have nots. I have friends though, I'm good with being me." The smile she gives is easily shared and the brightness is still there in her eyes. "Course you are. You're from an exotic place with all these wonderful stories. You're pretty fun. And you're nice too. I'd be glad to be your friend."

"The haves are people like Byron Thorne and Dante Taylor, except that at least one of those two seems like a pretty decent guy in spite of being an Eton boy?" Ravn nods thoughtfully. "I don't know. Money matters, of course -- particularly if you don't have it. But it's not what makes somebody a good person. I grew up with a lot of people who were definitely the haves and most of them were conservatives who thought the world of themselves and keeping up appearances, and now you know why I'm living in a backpack on the other side of the planet."

"Byron yeah, like him. Dante is a good guy I think. I don't know him very well, but he seems really nice. Especially with being famous and stuff. And super smart." Lyric gives credit where it's due! "I have money. Now, I mean. I worked for some, I save most of what I make. I don't buy lots of things and when I do it's usually at cheap places. Maybe Byron is someone who does things for appearances, he seems like it to me, but he's never really seemed to be rude to people that I've seen. But I don't know him really well. I'm glad you got away with not being like them."

"I only really said hello to him in passing so I have no idea," Ravn notes. "Dante seemed pretty cordial, I liked him -- though if I see him again, I'm still going to rib him about being an Eton boy. He'd probably be disappointed if I didn't. I don't really know a whole lot more than you do about the UK, but if it's anything like home, boarding schools are -- well, you can't get your nose much more up in the air than graduating from one of those. It's like old school nobility -- you're somebody just because you were there."

"I do think we should go see that place of his sometime if you're up for it. And the other places. I'm not letting you off the hook on any of them except maybe the strip club." The Dane looks a little sheepish on that one; as if he's still not quite sure what to expect from a place with such a designation.

"I think he would like it if you teased him about it." Lyric squints a moment before adding. "I guess. I mean Alexander got mad when I didn't expect him to over the father thing. I've not seen him get super mad before like that. So maybe I'm the bad judge of character."

There's a look to her closed closet and she bobs her head, "I'm not backing out of any of the plans. I'll go with you to his place whenever you want. Or any of the places you wanna go. But yeah you really don't gotta to to the club, it's not for everyone."

"You know what they say -- don't knock it until you tried it." Ravn tilts his head, the coin still spinning from one end of his hand to the other, dancing around his fingers. "It's just... May be my ignorance showing, really, but isn't a strip club kind of... I mean, the girls who work there..." He trails off, clearly not entirely certain what kind of women work at a strip club, what they do exactly, and whether he should feel sorry for them.

Uh-oh. Hackles rise and Lyric gets weirdly unsettled as she watches him. Despite that demeanor, her words are calm and quiet in their delivery. "What about the girls who work there?" Brows lift, hands still on her lap and she lifts her eyes to his, a guardedness in her own.

"I don't know about them," Ravn says, not at all oblivious to Lyric's response and trying to explain. "I've met girls who were on the streets, doing what they had to do, to eat. Girls who definitely didn't want to be where they were. But I've also met girls who danced in exotic bars because it made them feel liberated and free. And that's the thing -- when you say 'strip club', I only have Hollywood as a reference. So on some level I'm expecting miserable meth addicts -- and I don't know if that's even within arms' length of the truth. I'd be totally fine with watching someone do their dance and paying for the privilege just as I'd be going to the ballet, but I'd not be cool with basically exploiting people. Does that make sense?"

"Dahlia is really sweet. Zoiya was too. There's really good girls there, sweet people who dance because they like dancing. I've not noticed them using drugs or anything before. They even share their tips with me for doing their music. I really like working there and the people I work with. Everyone has a good heart. Antonio is the boss, but I don't see him a lot except big nights and payday. They all work hard for their money and dance because they want to. It does make sense, but I think maybe the movies make things worse than they are." Lyric backs down some, but the protective instinct is still there.

"I bet they do," Ravn agrees. "Strippers in movies are either really awful people or they're victims, there's never any in between. That's why I'm -- wary, you understand? Don't want to jump to conclusions based on -TV-. If you tell me it's a place where girls dance because they want to dance, I'm happy to go there and see the place. It'll be no different than going to the ballet except I won't have to rent a tux. Right?"

"Do you wear a tux to a ballet?" Asks the girl who had never been to a ballet. Or any sort of high class event. Lyric grins, all the wariness gone from her expression. "I bet you'd look pretty cool in a tux. I saw one before, not at Prom, I missed prom, but when I worked at the restaurant and a couple came in. He was wearing one. It was kinda cool looking."

"Everyone looks good in a tux. That's the point of them." Ravn chuckles. "Everyone also looks like a penguin. Seriously, it can be hard to even tell people apart, particularly if the light is bad. It's... It's not my kind of thing. I'm not really keen on the whole fancy upper class thing. Everyone spending a small fortune on looking pretty, everyone secretly comparing the size of their credit card to everyone else. I know it sounds terribly pretentious but honestly, I'm far more of a jeans and sneakers kind of person. I like being around people who are what they say they are. People with real problems, not just... Well, being entitled and spoiled, to be honest."

"Penguin?" Lyric giggles at the imagery. "Like that guy in Mary Poppins when he wears the weird pants." More giggles and she shakes her head at the memory. "I like penguins. And Hippos. We can go to the zoo in town too if you want sometime." While he does mention the upper class she looks a touch dubious. "But you do kind of wear it too. Like a shield or something around you. It's a natural thing though, this.. I dunno how to explain it. But you seem kind of better than most. Kinda like Dante."

"I do?" Ravn doesn't look entirely thrilled with this information. "Are you sure I don't just need to shave, or something?"

So, maybe it's against the unspoken rules or something, but Lyric reaches out a hand and tousles his hair playfully. At least she doesn't pounce him! "It's not a bad thing. You just kinda talk all proper and stuff, look well dressed, sorta like you were born into money. Maybe it's the accent." The last added with a brow waggle.

"I can't help the accent," Ravn laughs. "I was taught by very British people. People who'd probably sell their souls to get to have coffee with Dante, actually."

He doesn't seem to mind the ruffling. On the whole, he is a pretty laid back nature, that much is evident by now. He does glance down at himself though. "You know, I wasn't kidding about black being the new black. Everything I've got sort of goes together because it's all the same. Very handy when you literally live in a backpack."

"Well don't change it or anything. You're good like you are. So, for the first sort of exploration of forbidden places do you wanna go exploring? I can show you the Gray Pond if you want? We don't have to go inside it or anything, just look at it. It's by the stone bridge on the edge of town. It's a good place to walk." Lyric grins, wondering if he would accept the challenge or pass on it.

"Do I have to dive for dead bodies like the pawn shop lady suggested?" Ravn chuckles and makes to get up. "I mean, why not? I'm going to see places eventually -- might as well see them with someone who at least knows when to pick up and run. If I see you bolt, I'm running right after."

"Kinda like the bomb squad shirt? If you see me running, you better run fast or something?" Lyric uncurls from her position and slides to the edge of the bed to get her shoes. One is on, the other follows before she gets to her feet and stretches a little. "Ready when you are then. No bodies or anything from the pond. I hope." She does sound a little doubtful. I mean.. it could happen!

The Dane pulls his boots on before getting up. "Ready as ready gets. Hoping there are no bodies. Please, let there be no bodies." He laughs all the same as he gets to his feet and follows Lyric out. "So, the pond is up by the church somewhere, yes? The pawn shop lady told me what way to go -- and to go the other way."