2020-08-22 - Bonfire Festival

August is finally, at last, not looking like he was run over by a particularly enthusiastic herd of horses. He still has to take it easy on his left shoulder--will for the next few months, in fact--but otherwise he's in much better shape. The strange bruising has faded and his skin color is back to normal, an all the claw marks are pale lines or faded entirely.

He's in gray cargos that let the edge of the raven tattoo on his left thigh peek out, a black Black Sabbath tee, and urban hikers in deference to the likelihood that bottles will get broken and leave glass in the sand.

For her part, Olivia has found a spot near the stage to enjoy the tribal drumming at a distance from which she can watch the performers from a closer vantage point than from the other side of the enormous bonfire. Dr. Kincaid is wearing a flowery-flowy, above-the-knee sundress, sandals, and a denim jacket against the cool of the August night. She moves just a bit with the rhythm, a half-smile teasing across her lips. Now and then her attention will sift over groups or couples as they dance, laugh, and generally enjoy themselves.

Vic is here, partly to enjoy herself, partly to make sure nothing goes awry this close to Two if By Sea. She wasn't assigned, per se, but she still feels like she owes something to Marshall. The tall blonde is in cut off jean shorts that could almost be scandalous if you didn't consider they cover far more than a bikini would. Paired with the shorts is a pale blue tee with Smurfs on it, faded from many washes, a dark windbreaker, and running shoes. Her hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail as she sweeps the crowds for familiar and unfamiliar faces alike. There is no doubt she has a pistol holstered under the back of that windbreaker, but who is going to frisk her over it? She has a beer in one hand as she strolls along the edges of the crowd.

Itzhak is getting one of the volunteers to show him how to dance to the pounding drums, at the moment. He's laughing with her, scuffing up sand during the quick footwork. This is all extremely his jam, at least until he can't take any more of it and has to flee into the cooling darkness. But not yet, not yet. For now he's dancing by firelight and drums, grinning so all his crow's-feet are crinkled, having a grand time.

Having walked out from the apartments of where he lives, Devlin has grabbed a beer as he wanders through the crowd. His steps in time with the music along with a bit of a shift of shoulders. At times it looks as if he's dancing as he gracefully side step spins to avoid a boy chasing a dog. All with out spilling his beer even. As he draws closer to the bonfire he catches a familiar figure that he starts making his way towards. Again, moving through the crowd all the while not running into anyone and most times the people nearly bumping him are not even aware of the graceful shifts he makes.

Olivia catches sight of Devlin moving through the crowd and offers him an uptip of her chin and a smile from across the way only to abruptly swing around in the sand to look around behind where she was standing with a bemused expression.

There's nothing like a beachfront bonfire to draw folks out. Justin is no less affected by this draw. The sound of the drums, the flickering of the flames, the bright sparks and the smells of food are enough to draw even the recently reclusive man out from his Bayside home and down toward the main stretch of beach. He wanders along in a pair of jeans and chucks, a plain t-shirt in dark blue, hands in his pockets, just taking in the sights and sounds.

Vic takes a slow sip of her beer, eyes resting on Itzhak learning to dance. The beer is lowered and she looks momentarily amused at the mechanic, but that amusement fades into conflict. His boyfriend is persona-non-grata with the Kelly organization at the moment. Rosencrantz' personal standing she hasn't been updated on, so is he excluded by association as well? All this thinking makes her head hurt and regardless, she needs the guy to do some work on her truck, so she begins heading his way.

Cecil meanders up the beach, having traded his khakis for jeans and his button-up for a t-shirt. He acquires a beer, then looks around. Upon spying Olivia, he makes his way toward her. He offers her a smile and says, "I decided to try getting out of the house. Are you having a good time?"

August gets himself a ginger beer to drink, nods a hello to Devlin and Olivia. He pauses when he sees Vic, giving her a longer look (a 'mutually survived some kind of insane bullshit in the church' look), moves to watch Itzhak learn how to dance to the drums. He stays just out of reach of the flying sand. Mostly. Eh, what's a little sand between friends.

It is a bit of a crowd to maneuver though. Not quite a two steps forward and three steps back type thankfully. Catching the uptip of chin, he gives Olivia a smile but misses her swing around as he dodges another couple. He spots August and gives the man a thumbs up with his free hand, still making his way towards Olivia.

Shuffle turn shuffle turn shuffle turn! Itzhak doesn't have anywhere near as much hip as his instructor, but what he's got don't lie. She cheers for him and hugs him exuberantly, which he returns, laughing. Then she's off to teach the next hopeful, while Itzhak wipes his brow and takes a minute because she was working him. "Not bad right?" he calls to August over the drums, saucy. Vic making her way towards him, he catches sight of and jerks his chin and eyebrows at her all giiiirl what's up.

Justin's steps turn invariably toward the water, drifting away from the lights and the sounds and leaving them behind him to make his way closer and closer to the dark expanse and where it meets the shore, sneakers leaving faint impressions in the wet sand behind him. He walks along the water's edge as though called there, his attention out into the darkness rather than on the festivities going on behind.

Vic gives August an upnod when she spots him. "You're looking better. Roen, isn't it?" she asks. "Hey Rosencrantz, I wanted to talk to you about doing some work on my truck if that's...." her words trail off as her eyes focus on the crowd, zeroing in on something. Her eyes sweep across towards the water, and back again to whatever it is she sees. She scrubs a hand over her eyes, as if trying to clear a fog from them. "That's not possible," she whispers, under her breath.

Olivia frowns for a moment only to catch sight of Cecil approaching. She turns half away from the stage to watch him approach with a pleased smile. "I'm glad the creatures let you out to play. This drumming is fantastic." Just past him she catches sight of August and lifts a hand to splay her fingers in a bit of a wave to the man before looking back to Cecil. "You're just on time. I've always wanted to see a Forensic Scientist dance to African tribal drum music." Because that's a thing. Devlin approaches and she motions with her hand from one man to the other. "Cecil, this is Devlin. He's a paramedic. Devlin, meet Cecil. He's our own CSI: Gray Harbor. I'm sure you two must have crossed paths down at the precinct." She looks over her shoulder again and back between the men with a brief hint of the previous frown. Then she continues, more pleasantly, "Cecil was just about to demonstrate the dance of his people." She lightly elbows Cecil with a challenging sparkle in her blue eyes.

Cecil laughs quietly and says, "Oh, I'm not going to dance." As if the mere notion that he might is the height of comedy. He follows Olivia's gaze to August and lifts a hand in a wave to him. He then offers his hand to Devlin to shake. "Hello, how do you do. You look familiar, and no, I was not about to demonstrate anything other than my ability to put away beer." The drumming seems to have him in good spirits, even if he has no intention of dancing. He glances past Devlin, toward the water, and his brow furrows. His good cheer is broken up by a troubled look. As the shapes coalesce, that troubled look deepens.

Devlin shakes the proffered hand, "Good to meet you. I think I have seen you in passing." He chuckles with the not going to dance comment. "Me.. I do enjoy dancing. I took some time learning to get rid of that second left foot some of us have." And as he takes a small sip from his beer he swings his hips a little while moving his feet in what appears to be a complex pattern. "Just a....." and his voice trails off as his head turns to see the figures.. "What the hell...."

The figures coming out of the water cause Justin to pause and take a half-step backward, because nothing good has come out of the water for him recently, his eyes widening just a little bit. When the figure whispers something to him, he nods, though, in the affirmative, looking at the burning wreath that the thing holds, as though uncertain how one might accept it without, you know, getting lit on fire.

Olivia's laughter in response to Cecil's deferral is inaudible beneath the rhythmic sound of the drums. "Oh, Cecil. I'm startled and disheartened. But beer does sound like an acceptable substitute. For now. Let's talk after a few more beers about the dancing." Speaking of a beer, she definitely needs one. She flickers a glance in the direction Cecil turns to look only to double take, missing the larger part of Devlin's commentary. "Are those ...?" Olivia stills from the gentle sway and stares. "... maybe they'll dance." The figure that approaches Justin receives the larger part of her attention, as does Justin's response.

"Sure, bring 'er on by," Itzhak says to Vic--and just before the flowing creatures begin to become obvious, snaps his head around as if he saw something very alarming out of the corner of his eye. He saw a head of curly black hair just like his, and an enormous proud nose just like his...or did he? Then they are there, beautiful and fey, and Itzhak swallows, prominent Adam's apple going up and down. "Shalom aleichem," he murmurs.

Vic looks momentarily stunned by what or whom she saw, and she begins making her way towards the water's edge, eyes narrowing sharply as she chucks the unfinished beer into a trash can en route. One hand slides behind her back, under the windbreaker, to close around the grip of her Glock. She doesn't draw it, just wants the reassurance of it's presence. The other beings, the ones with the wreaths, they give her pause as she comes up short, skidding in the sand. "What the fuck?" she breathes.

August waggles a hand at Itzhak. "Not bad for learning." His smile and his time belie his words; he's just fucking when him. This is what he gets for being his best friend. "Better," he agrees with Vic. "You too, looks like."

He's about to take a drink from his ginger beer when something gets his attention. He stares through the crowds, frozen in place for a couple seconds. It can't be, though. He's just imagining it. But he narrows his eyes, scanning the people moving to and fro in the firelight.

This brings the figures into his line of sight, and those he really stares at, hairs standing on the back of his neck.

Cecil stares at the figures, and even his beer is forgotten. "I could've sworn I saw my da," he murmurs, "but that's impossible." He unconsciously shifts so that he's putting himself between the figures and Olivia. Doesn't even seem to register that he's doing it. In a low tone, he says, "We should probably go." He glances to Devlin. "Don't you think?"

Justin reaches out and accepts the burning wreath from the figure in front of him and says a quiet, "Thank you," when it passed into his hand. Then, the figure just dissipates in front of him and he's left standing at the edge of the water with the burning wreath in his hands. He looks down at it, watching the flames that generate no heat, having completely forgotten about the celebration going on around him at this point. It's only after a moment that he notices all the other figures, and glances back over his shoulder to see where they are going.

Olivia lifts a light hand to rest atop Cecil's nearer shoulder, looking past him with narrowed blue eyes lit by the firelight in the darkness of the summer night. "Mine, too, Cecil. But he's deceased." She keeps her hand where it is which means Cecil will either have to remove her hand from his shoulder or stay where he's standing. "Maybe it's some sort of ... memorial?" It is Gray Harbor, after all. "Let's not go just yet. I want to see what they do." Clearly Olivia doesn't lean as far toward the self-preservation end of the spectrum. She echoes in a whisper as if it were a riddle, "... looking for someone."

Nodding to what Olivia says, "Yeah.. we should stay and see.." Devlin adds. "Looking for someone.. hell.. that is a laundry list for some of us." He takes a deep breath and finishes off his beer. Curiousity seems to rule the moment for him as he remains there but his feet have stopped moving with the music as he pivots a little more to get a clearer view of what is going on.

"Pop!" Itzhak has apparently decided he's figured out who he's seeing. He goes tear-assing down the beach towards the water, towards the figure that looks quite a lot like him, although shorter, without his attenuation. "Abba!" Whether or not the figure stops for him, he chases it. He glances at Justin holding the flaming wrath, waves him at the ocean. "The water. Float it on the water," he tells him low and urgent.

Olivia's blue gaze skitters from Justin toward Itzhak at his exclamation, his sprint down toward the water, and then his address of the similar-looking wraith-like figure there. "Maybe he's right," she muses somewhere between the two men nearest where she's standing. "It's worth a try, at least." With a pat to Cecil's shoulder, "Come on, Harvey. I'll watch your back." Olivia heads toward the figures at a slower pace than Itzhak did, watching how his interaction goes.

August hesitates. Is he looking for someone? Sometimes he thinks he is. Another version of himself, his Aunt, people he failed in Sarajevo. In some way he'll never not be searching for them.

He glances from the wreath to the figure, back to the wreath. He holds out his hands to accept it, gives them a nod. Itzhak's shouting startles him, and he calls, "Hey, wait! It's probably not really him!"

"Why!?" Vic calls to Itzhak. What will that do?" Because if it brings these ghosts back to life, she'll have to cap this Sinaloa asshole again, and that doesn't seem like a good time for anyone.

Cecil doesn't try to remove Olivia's hand or move away from her. He glances back at her with a small, fleeting smile, and he nods to Devlin as he says, "All right." He takes a drink of his beer and squares his shoulders, planting himself where he stands against whatever is coming. Until Olivia moves past him and toward the water. "Wait!" He follows after her. "There's still a lot we don't know about this." Still, gathering evidence is in his blood, and he takes out his phone to start filming what's happening.

Walking with Olivia towards the water to see what is going on, "Yeah... may be." He takes a breath, "It's Gray Harbor.. Austin has nothing on this place when it comes to weird." He looks at the figures and then back to Olivia and Cecil. Devlin then focuses again on the figures to see what is going on with people and the figures.

When it is suggested that he release the wreath out onto the water, Justin nods thoughtfully. It certainly seems like a reasonable thing to do. "Like releasing lanterns," he says, and then he crouches at the water's edge and lets the wreath go, out onto the waves, watching to see if it floats back out or if it simply vanishes the way that the spirit did. He crouches there for a while, just watching, the wreath, or the space where the wreath might have been.

Olivia accepts the offered wreath after murmuring something under her breath at the figure she takes it from. Without regard for her leather sandals she walks out far enough into the water that she can actually set the wreath down in a place where it can float and not end up simply dragging back up on the sand. Up to her knees in sea-water she lifts her arms to hug herself as if chilled for a moment after. Then the doctor looks over at Cecil and his filming (she said she'd have his back) as she wanders back out of the water to the wet sand, sandals all but ruined. "Which one is your 'da', Sess?" she asks Cecil.

You know that part in a movie where some weird shit goes down for some of the cast and then another person shows up - having just missed the weird shit? That's Dahlia! Skirting the edge of weirdness. Which is perfectly fine with her.

She'd had to work and her shift just ended a little bit ago Dahlia decided to check out the bonfire event instead of going home just yet. She's drifting through the crowd, listening to the music and totally oblivious to the strangeness that is happening aside seeing people releasing wreaths into the water? Maybe it's a new tradition. She does, however, spot Justin also and his contemplativeness - so moves in closer.

He'd feel her hand on his head, running her fingers through his hair. "Whatcha up to?" A curious note in her voice as she looks to the water a moment and then back to him.

August tenses, ready to run after Itzhak, but first... He accepts the brilliant wreath, saying, "Thank you," as they vanish. He's distracted from the need to chase down good friends by the heatless flame, turns the shape this way and that. The light from it renders him in stark shades of black and white.

"On the water," he says to himself. He starts down to the shoreline, running his fingers through the fire. It's not like the fire he makes; this is something else entirely.

Devlin accepts a wreath after taking a little time to say a few things quietly to the figure. He then walks out into the water to nearly waist deep before he sets the wreath out on the water. After setting the wreath into the water, Devlin pulls out a flask from beneath the light wind breaker he's wearing. He pours a shot into the cap and the pours that into the water. He mouths something silently followed by lifting the flask to his lips. The flask is then slipped back under the wind breaker. It is several minutes as Devlin stands there, perhaps lost in old memories before he turns around to walk back up to the beach.

Cecil lowers his phone as he's approached with a wreath. To Olivia, he nods to one of the figures that vaguely resembles him. Especially around the eyes and that ridiculous crop of misbehaving hair. "That's my da," he says quietly. He steps into the cold Pacific Northwest water, drenching his hiking boots and the legs of his jeans, and he lays down the wreath. It's a solemn moment, but then he steps back, and up comes the phone again. Someone's got to science this, it isn't going to science itself.

"Esta ciudad esta jodidamente loca," Vic mutters. Her other hand slowly comes out from behind her back to accept the wreath of heatless flame from the figure before her, suspicion still glinting in her eyes. She holds it in both hands, squinting at the fire that doesn't burn like it might change its mind and char her fingers any moment, as she steps towards the water. She toes off her running shoes because she isn't rich enough to replace them over something this insane. A foot in, the other, a few more steps, and she crouches to set the wreath on the tidal flow. She is concerned about this, but more concerned if she doesn't do it and something terrible happens because of it. She's trusting Itzhak's call on this.

The touch of fingers in his hair startles him out of his reverie and for a moment he jumps, until Justin hears Dahlia's voice and realizes that it's her, and his expression shifts to a smile. "Hey, Dahl," he says, looking back out over the water for a bit where the flaming wreath eventually disappeared. "Just.. thinking about Easton, hoping he's okay wherever he is out there," he says quietly. She and he are the two oldest friends he has. But at least he knows where she is. He finally straightens up and turns to face her, a smile spreading over his lips, "So, how was your shift? Did you get some food? Want to grab something?" He nods back to where the bonfire roars and the music continues to play.

Olivia stands beside Cecil until he deems it time to stop recording (for science!), she casts a half smile to Devlin, then says to one or both of them, "I definitely need a drink after that. I'll see you by the fire." Sand clumps on her sodden sandals as she heads up the beach to where the alcohol is being sold.

Dahlia studies Justin for a moment, looks back to the water and the last couple lingering burning wreaths that seem to be floating off. Then back up to Justin and smiled again. "I didn't know him well, but Easton's a tough guy. I'm sure he's doing okay." She murmured, giving his hands a squeeze as he stood up. "Work was decent. No one had to get slapped or or tossed out for being a jerk!" She said brightly, though Dahlia did take some pleasure in giving Cabaret clients the what for if they tried getting fresh. "Food sounds perfect. Let's get some food and then we can dance! The band they have going right now is pretty kick ass." She released one of his hands, turning to lead him back up towards where all the action is going on and where some food stalls are set up.

Cecil turns to head up the beach as well, once he's gathered enough footage to obsess over later. "I definitely need a drink," he agrees. He glances to Devlin to see if he'll be joining. "Do you have any idea what the hell that was?" he asks. "I've heard stories about this place, but this is the first time I've ever encountered something."

Vic stands at the water's edge, scooping her sneakers up in one hand, and stares out at the Bay, as if waiting for the zombified version of Hector Perez, a member of the Sinaloa cartel secretly feeding information to the rival Los Zetas, to walk out of the surf to take his revenge. It was a Cartel vs Cartel war going on when she was undercover, and Francisco Ojedo had sent her and De la Vega to take the guy out when his treachery was discovered.

When Devlin heads up the beach, he moves to rejoin Olivia and Cecil. He seems somber as he moves with slow purpose. He catches what Cecil says at the end.. "Scary thing is that you'll get used to it.. and just roll with it, Cecil. you just roll with it.. " he shakes his head a bit. "At least this time.. no one is getting hurt. They are getting helped.."

Speaking of de la Vega, who should come trudging up the beachfront from the direction of the pier, but the police captain himself. He's in his usual civvie attire of faded tee shirt with cheeky saying across the front (adios bitchachos, says this one), snug-fitting black jeans, and enough tattoos for an ex-convict decorating both heavily tanned arms. He's also got a pre-lit cigarette scissored between two fingers as he makes his way through the crowd, dark eyes flickering between the act getting ready to head up on stage and take over for the guys tearing down, and the massive bonfire lighting up the water.

"I hope so," Justin says, and then gives Dahlia's hands a squeeze before letting her lead him away, back toward the food stalls are and where the music gets louder. "Maybe we should dance and then get food, work up an appetite." He grins at her and tugs her toward an open space where some people are dancing. He very carefully does not mention ghostly beings coming out of the water. Considering what they'd been through recently, he feels that's a wise course of action.

Cecil makes his way to where alcohol is being sold, and he gets three beers with those big forensic science bucks. He gives one to Olivia and offers another to Devlin, keeping the third for himself. "I suppose that's a positive," he says. "No one got hurt. It was kind of nice to see my da again. I always regretted not going back for the funeral. There was a case I was working on, and I couldn't get away." He shakes his head. Then he takes a drink. "It was nice to do something in memory of him."

Dahlia yelps a little in surprise as Justin tugs her towards the open dance space and laughed. "Fine, fine. Dancing and then food - I can deal with that." She moves in closer to him. Her arms drape loosely over Justin's shoulders. "How's your day been?" The live music having transitioned to recorded during the band changes, Dahlia's keeping an easy sort of pace with her movements. Save the more intensive dancing for the live music! Spying Ruiz out of the corner of her eye, she gives him a little wave before refocusing up on Justin. "Also what with those wreaths? Was it something like that lantern thing people do?"

Vic needs another drink. Vic needs a lot of drinks, some blow, maybe a nubile young hunk, and a carton of cigarettes and her recovering lungs be damned. She just saw someone she outright murdered in some weird ass ghostly fire ceremony. She needs to remind herself she's alive and not going to burn in hell just yet. In this town though? Maybe sooner rather than later. Maybe the beer was drugged and it was all just a hallucination? She continues to glare out at the ocean as if it has deeply, personally, offended her. Well it kinda has. Will they be serving anything harder at this party, or will she have to hike back to the TwoFer?

Olivia returns from wherever it was she disappeared to in time to accept a bottle of beer from Cecil. "You're the best, Cecil. Thanks." She looks from Cecil to Devlin and back again. "'Nice' is a strange word, don't you think?" she comments in response to Cecil's last statement. "It never really means what the word actually means, like some sort of vernacular camouflage." She takes a long drink from her beer and then toasts afterward, completely out of order, "To nice memories and superb African drumwork." She flickers a glance over as the silhouette of the police chief walks across the beach between the fire and where she's standing, a thoughtful expression settling over her features.

"Something like that," Justin says to Dahlia as they dance along to what music is played between band changes, his arms wrapped loosely around her waist. "Doesn't hurt to remember folks. Maybe send out a little light for them to follow to find their way home." He follows Dahlia's glance and gives a nod and smile of greeting to the familiar face of Ruiz before he says, "My day was fine. Got a lot of work done this morning and afternoon so decided the call of music and the bonfire should not be resisted. You can hear the music from the back yard of the house." He grins.

Devlin accepts the beer, "Thanks. I'd love stronger.. but" he shrugs, "Cheated once...I think a repeat would be a bad idea, even if tempting." He then sips at the beer, "I never thought I'd see Doc Roseman again.. It was good to say good bye to him. I missed out.. " He takes a larger pull on his beer and then pulls out from within his wind breaker, "Jerkey? It's venison.." the offer made to Olivia and Cecil. "If we are going to drink.. a little food sounds like a good idea."

August watches the wreath float out and away, light swallowed by darkness. He turns to look for Itzhak, can't be surprised to find him gone. No doubt he'll turn up in the morning, having chased a vision of his father half way to Vancouver.

He turns back to the festival, up-nods a greeting to Ruiz. As strange as it was, there's a sense of peace filtering through him now, a notion that whatever they did was in accordance with expectations. Whose? That was harder to say. But if Gray Harbor has taught August anything, it's that going with his gut's not the worst idea.

Cecil takes a piece of the offered jerky. "Thank you," he says. He toasts Olivia's words, raising his bottle, and then he takes another drink. "Let's hope our next encounter is as pleasant as this one, relatively speaking." He glances across the crowd and spies Ruiz. "Oh look, it's the chief," he says. He raises his bottle in greeting to him, not even sure if he'll be seen in the crowd.

"No, it doesn't hurt to remember people at all." Dahlia agreed, maybe thinking of her mother for a few brief moments before another smile lit up her features. "I hope they see it." The light that is. "It would be hard to resist, especially hearing it from the house. I'm glad you decided to check it out. I didn't want to drag you out again so soon and for you to feel like I'm pestering you." She laughed, relaxing against him. "But these things are always better when you're with people too. So. Maybe would've dragged you out anyway if you weren't already here."

Ruiz stops to buy himself a little plastic cup of some sort of craft beer, thanks the girl who hands it to him, and wanders on again. Roen's spotted after a minute in the sea of faces, and he returns the up-nod, and continues on a rough trajectory closer. Then a familiar blonde whose blue eyed gaze he happens to lock onto for a beat or three, and he drifts in closer. He curves her a quick smile, all crow's feet and silver-flecked beard, and he looks both older and younger in the firelight. "Doctor Kincaid," he greets warmly, raising his cup to her. "Es bueno verte aquí." Cecil and Devlin get a nod of greeting as well; the forensic scientist even gets a wink as he's spotted.

Vic finally draws her eyes from the Bay, and begins to trudge towards one of the places selling booze. A beer can at least get her somewhere with stronger stuff. She stands in the line, smacking the sand off the soles of her feet one at a time with her shoes, and then sliding them back on.

Justin grins and says, "Look, I've been out three times in one week. I think the hermit phase is finally lifting. And you know I'll always go out with you whenever you want to drag me out of the house, even if it's just to keep you company." He relaxes with her, easily moving with the music and grateful perhaps for the fact that the people around them are more focused on what just happened and the music and celebration than on them, so that they get a little reprieve from all the crazy comments.

Olivia declines the offer of venison jerky from Devlin, continuing to watch Ruiz's progress to the beer vendor. After his nod to August and his look in her direction, the doctor tips her head ever so slightly, arches a brow, and offers a slow smile along with the carefully (and slowly) enunciated words, "Captain. �Viniste al tambor, a bailar o a mirar?" Sidelong to Cecil while still watching Ruiz, Olivia murmurs, "It's never pleasant. If it is, it's an illusion." The words are quiet, friendly, and faintly singsong after the Spanish.

Devlin takes a piece for himself to chew on as he drinks beer, "Welcome and thanks for the beer." He smiles a bit, "Hopefully the Chief did come to dance." He shrugs, "Balance... light dark.. ying yang.. can't have the good without bad." He takes a pull on his beer. "I'm just happy this time, I am not having to patch someone up, I can relax, and I can just enjoy life..."

Cecil grins at Ruiz, one of those warm smiles that brightens his eyes behind those thick glasses. "Chief," he says, and he raises his beer to the man. He then tells Olivia, "Relatively, I mean. Compared to, say, a murder-homicide. On the list of what I'd rather delve into for leisure." To Devlin, he says quietly, "I see the bad. Not so much the good, but it's a living."

Catching sight of Justin and Dahlia, Ruiz favours the pair with a slight dip of his head, should he manage to catch their eye. He makes no move, for the nonce, to approach them however. Instead, a sip of his beer chased by a drag off his cigarette as his attention roves back to the trio of Olivia, Devlin and Cecil. "Porque no los tres?" he queries in a low, very amused rumble, dark eyes creasing up as he watches the blonde. Then to Devlin, "Haven't seen you in a little while, McCloud, how're things on the FD side of the building these days?"

"Sounds like it! Which is a very good thing, mister." Dahlia teased affectionately and laughed. Ruiz would get a little wave in response to his nod. "Yeah, I know and same goes for you. I just try not to be a bother." As the music kicked back up to an electroswing number, Dahlia looked a little mischievous "Alright, let's see whatcha got, baby." Releasing him to take his hand and start moving more in rhythm with the upbeat tempo of the music.

Devlin nods to the chief, and in Spanish that carries the infamous learned via Rossetta Stone accent, "Va bien remendar a la gente. Solo necesito que Michaels crezca un poco." He sips his beer, "Hope I got that right and as to Micheals, just tired of his disrespect is all." He then adds, "Things are looking up though over all. Been looking at the Paramedic in Charge position." He finishes off a piece of jerky, "And half expecting some push back, granted the good Doctor Kincaid had reminded me I should be more positive where my career is concerned."

Vic finally gets herself not one, but two cups of beer, slugging the first one down in a few gulps and tossing the cup into a trash bin, before she cradles the second to her body and heads towards where she thought she saw Roen head. There's a cluster of people and, oh look, her partner-in-murder, the Chief himself. "Javier," she grunts out at Ruiz, nodding to the others in his little circle who all look...coppy to her.

Olivia flicks a glance to Devlin as he suggests dancing was the top of the list for Ruiz. There's a quiet 'hmm' in response to that. "No patching necessary. Not yet," she concludes in that enigmatic tone she's toying with for no apparent reason. Cecil's greeting and statement draws her attention and she tips a small smile at her housemate. "Relatively. Of course. We're still working on the list." It's a living? Olivia seems to agree with that, a dip of her chin.

She looks back to Ruiz. His response to her question draws an abrupt, quiet laugh from the woman in the sundress and denim jacket. "A full evening, then." Her blue-eyed gaze, reflecting the flames of the bonfire, slides to August, then Justin and Dahlia and back to the more recently arrived captain. "You missed the drumming. And that's a shame. I think you would have liked it."

Olivia pauses, allows for the conversation to volley to and fro. Then once more to Ruiz, "You also missed the ghosts. I'm not quite so sure what you would have thought of them. And the current music, while playful, isn't quite as conducive to dancing." Drums and dancing eliminated. "But there are all sorts of things to watch." She lifts her bottle a bit, "The fire is certainly inviting." A swallow of beer.

August meanders in the direction of the coalesced group, ginger beer dangling from one hand. This makes one less cop-like person to balance it out for Vic. "Evening all," he says. A last glance over his shoulder at the ocean, then he focuses on the people here in front of him. "You just missed the show," he tells Ruiz. "Whatever it, ah, was."

Cecil glances from speaker to speaker as the Spanish flies freely, and he doesn't seem to have a single clue what's being said. He takes that time to munch on jerky and drink beer. Then Olivia mentions the ghosts, and he whips out his phone. "I took video," he tells Ruiz, and he angles his phone to show whatever it is his phone's camera picked up of the ghosts. "I can't explain it."

Justin smiles to Ruiz, catching the nod, and then chuckles at Dahlia's teasing. "You," he says to her seriously, "Are never, ever a bother to me. Remember that." But then a swing number is kicking up and he laughs, "You got it, doll." He moves into a swing number with her, feet moving quickly in time with the upbeat song, giving her a little spin and even a lift or two before the song is over, though keeps it confined to a small space since there's a crowd, saving some of the more expansive maneuvers for another time.

Olivia mentions ghosts, and August is a little more ambiguous when he alludes to a show, both of which make the (acting) Chief's brows knit a fraction as he finishes off what remains of his beer. "Mm," might be meant to convey his enjoyment of it, or might just be him ruminating on the utter bullshit that is Gray Harbour. He pitches the thing into a nearby trashcan, shoves his hand into his jeans pocket, and takes another drag off his cigarette, scissored between inked fingers.

To Devlin, "You want someone to back you up, you let me know. I'll write you up a recommendation." Then to Olivia, "Are you fucking kidding me? Of course you can dance to this shit. You want to?" Dance, he probably means. He dares a smile, though it's slightly wolfish. Then he leans in past August to see what Cecil's showing him on his phone screen.

Vic raises her remaining beer to August in greeting. "So what did you do that made that guy in the church want to shishkabob you so bad? I mean that guy was fucking determined." Yes August, it was YOU that was targeted. She idly rubs a hand over the new scar where the gunshot went and they opened her up to rebuild her ribcage and patch up her lungs. There is metal in there now, something she is not happy about.

She slants a look to Ruiz and notes, "Yeah, you missed the show. Hector Perez came to say 'Hola'."

Swing isn't something Dahlia is an expert at, but the beat is fun and the moves aren't too difficult to follow. She lets Justin lead and no feet get stepped on or people get injured. When the first song winds down, she's grinning and laughing some - ever so slightly flushed. "Alright. That was definitely fun. We're doin' that again." She confirms, giving his shoulders a squeeze where'd they'd been placed when he lifted her. " And yeah," Reeling back to the conversation prior to when the dance number had started. "I'll remember that I ain't ever a bother." She assured him with another chuckle. "Hmm think we can go for one more? Or you wanna grab a drink?"

Olivia follows each of the different greetings and comments being tossed to de la Vega with a sparkle to those fire-lit eyes, a longer bit of attention resting on August for a bit. Then she leans to the side to nudge her denim-clad shoulder lightly against Cecil's. "You were on it, Cecil," she compliments amiably. "We'll discuss some possible explanations with the cats." She finishes her own beer and turns away to move a few steps over to a recycling container to drop her bottle there. Pivoting in the sand in her ruined, sandy sandals, she returns to the grouping and the conversation there. A glance from Ruiz to Devlin at the promised recommendation. That may be a pleased look she tosses in Devlin's direction. Ruiz addresses her and her attention slides back to the inked, smoking Chief of Police. "Relatively speaking," she begins when asks if she's fucking kidding. "--the drums were far more ... compelling." Does she want to dance? There's a hint of a challenge to the set of her shoulders and the look in her eyes, not to mention that smile. "Absolutely."

Devlin executes a bow with a flourish from Ruiz to Olivia, "I believe.. the lady wishes to start." His tone teasing. "And I think I may take you up on that recommendation." He finishes off his beer, "I think Cecil and I will have take up the quest of proper disposal and seeking dance partners as we enjoy our jobs..." more teasing of course. "I think I have resisted the drums enough tonight." He swings his hips as he moves through the crowd to the recycle bin.. and no waiting for Cecil..

Cecil glances at his phone, and his excitement dims. It's like the universe just kicked a puppy. "I swear there were spectres," he tells Ruiz. "I filmed them." He shakes his phone, like that might make the ghosts show up on it. "Oh, that's dirty pool. Weasly supernatural." He pockets his phone, then lifts his chin and says with all the dignity he can muster, "There were witnesses. We know what we saw." Then people are going off to dance, and he looks at the dance space with some trepidation. "Well, have fun," he tells them. Nope, he's not dancing.

"Definitely," Justin agrees with Dahlia with a bit of a laugh as the swing dance comes to an end and the next song kicks up. He gives her a little squeeze in return and then considers. "One more, then food and drinks. What do you say?" He gives her a little wink, definitely seeming to be in good spirits for the evening. And so they linger in the crowd of dancers as the next song begins.

Hector Perez? That name instantly drains the good humour from de la Vega's face, and he stares at Vic for a few long beats, like he's heard something most discomfiting. Eventually, he finishes off his cigarette too, puts it out in one of the designated receptacles like the responsible fucking citizen he is. And glances over his shoulder like he half expects this guy to be standing there, still. Come back from the dead. But at the absolutely, he's shaken from his introspection, and gestures with a hand for Olivia to accompany him. Where? Well, there's a free patch of 'dancefloor' near the water, and the band's keying up a rolling, jazzy tune with accompanying vocals by a smoky-voiced ingenue who's strutting the stage limned in bonfire light.

Cecil's given a glance over his shoulder as he departs, like, yeah, this town'll fuck with you all right.

August tilts his head at Vic, sips from his ginger beer. He frowns. "You really think so? You're the one he shot." He licks his lips, tries to think of any grudges that might have developed. Now, of course, he'd blame the memory alterations. Those were recent, though. What did that leave? "Honestly? No idea. I was just there because of those statues." He sighs. "Maybe I sold him a bad plant or something. I assume there's no ID on him yet," he cuts a look at Cecil, "not that I expect to be told that kind of thing." No trial, after all. The guy's dead.

He watches Ruiz head off to dance, toys with his ginger beer. After a bit he shrugs a shoulder. "This town's just like that sometimes," he adds.

"Alright, ya got me. One more." Dahlia grinned, letting Justin lead them in the next song. Keeping a little closer with the jazzier rhythm. This was good. A break from the wild stuff that had been happening and she'd be pleased as punch to know that she lucked out with her timing if it ever comes up. "Hmm...this song is giving me some ideas for my next Cabaret number. Maybe go a little more burlesque or something." Dahlia mused. "Also inspiring me to update some of my playlists with some different music."

Vic's cold gaze meets Ruiz's and she shrugs. If it was a fucking ghost, at least they can be sure he's really dead. Not like there was much question of that after they put a half dozen rounds into his head and chest, and dumped his weighted down corpse in the Willamette River a few miles south of Portland. Black water in that river. Even divers with flashlights can only see a foot or two. Perfect place to deposit a body you never want found again. She watches the police chief mosey out to dance with the blonde and a brow arches, but she's brought back to the group by August's words.

"Positive. I just got between him and you. If he wanted me dead, he'd have made damn sure I stayed down. And even people who tried to tackle him were ignored so he could get to you. If he hadn't lost the back of his skull, he'd have finished you. Pretty sure no wilting daisy would drive someone to that kind of single mindedness." Vic sips her beer again, slowing down on this one as she's already buzzed.

While Vic and Ruiz share the moment of the past rearing its ugly cartel head, Olivia turns to Cecil. "At least two more beers in you, Cecil, then we'll dance. And you'll like it. Doctor's honor." August's addition to that conversation draws her attention back to the man and she listens thoughtfully, collecting details, by the look of it. Ruiz gestures for Olivia to follow and she does indeed do so, making her way across the sand with her shadow cast at a dancing angle by the bonfire while she glances up at the stage and listens to the music with a different ear now. Down near the water where the sand is more firm, she pauses and removes her strappy, sodden sandals, tossing them a half dozen feet away from where anyone else might be enjoying the music, then turns to Ruiz with a playful smile, her words low and slow. "No pensaste que estar�a de acuerdo en bailar, verdad, de la Vega."

Shaking a bit of a tail feather, Devlin makes his way to the recycle bin. He gives a wave to Ruiz and Olivia with a grin.. almost bumping into a young woman out to have fun, "Care to dance?" he asks. And in reply there is a smile and a "Sure!" Devlin doesn't do to badly, he does have a few moves. For the moment, he appears to be having fun.

Cecil smiles pleasantly at Olivia. He's not outright saying no, but he looks dubious at the idea that she's going to get him onto that proverbial floor. He takes another drink, then glances to August. "Hmm?" Distracted, he didn't catch all that. "Has who been ID'd?"

August shifts, uncomfortable at the idea of being targeted, even if it was by some random guy. "Well, if it was me, no idea why. Definitely don't know who he was. And, he picked a weird place and time." He has a bit of ginger beer. "Unless he just hates people with the Art." And either way, it's over with. Right?

"The guy who stabbed me," he asides to Cecil. "No idea what it was all about, was just curious if you guys had figured anything out about why he attacked," he cuts a look at Vic, "us."

No more is said of the ghost of their poor dead quarry, if indeed that's what Vic saw. Ruiz continues to watch her a while over Olivia's shoulder, even as the pair take up some lively swing dancing on the sand. His moves are nothing spectacular, but his exquisite command over his body is certainly something. He moves with unshakeable confidence despite his limited repertoire, and if Olivia has any designs on leading? They're about to be dashed.

"Por el contrario.. pensé que podría usar una distracción," he murmurs to the blonde, giving her a little spin, and a twinge of a smile once he has her in his sights again.

"Yeah, it'd be nice to know who it was that shoved a gun into my ribs and blew a hole in me," Vic adds along with August, squinting at Cecil. "You work with the cops?" she asks. Oddly, there's something in the way she holds herself, even half-drunk, and how her eyes never stop moving, that almost screams cop as well.

Cecil tells August, "Ah, yes. I'm not working that case, I'm afraid. I wish I had more to tell you. I can look into it." He then says to Vic, "I'm a forensics specialist with GHPD." He offers his hand to her. "Cecil Harvey." He's been drinking steadily since he got here, so there's a slight slur in that otherwise pristine English accent.

"Har� mi mejor esfuerzo para ser una distracci�n extraordinaria entonces." Deliberate, carefully chosen words with no accent whatsoever. Olivia may not be a huge fan of swing dancing, but it's not difficult to follow a lead that is as confident and commanding as de la Vega's is. She spins with a whirl of the skirt of her sundress when he twines her fingers just so, she dips to one side or the other, her blonde hair swinging, when he presses at her hip, and if her toes encounter his feet a time or two, it's no matter given the fact that her feet are bare. A conversation continues throughout the dance with quiet laughter here and there from Dr. Kincaid. It might be that at some point late in the dance she tries to nudge him toward the water that's not so far away.

Justin and Dahlia disappear into the crowd to dance another round before finding themselves some drinks and food, laughing and enjoying themselves through another song amidst the other revelers. Eventually, though, they peel off and go to find some quiet place to sit with their food and drinks to rest and watch others dance.

Devlin's temp dance partner goes off to join friends. He smiles and just moves on, to a beer vendor to get another bottle along with a fish sandwich. The beer he drinks slow, the sandwich is devoured as if he had not eaten for days. As he wanders the crowd he draws back to where August is, "Hey August.. your pretty good with botany things.. right?"

"Forensics specialist, hm? Where did you study?" Vic asks, curiously. "Someplace overseas, I'm guessing, by the accent?" She looks at the hand a moment, pausing, before she takes it for a quick shake. She has a good grip, no polish on her short nails, someone who works with her hands perhaps. She's also wearing a watch, analog, not digital. How archaic. "Vic Grey. I've had a bit of an interest in that field. Let's call it a hobby."

"Cambridge," Cecil says, "And Georgetown. I've been working in the United States for about a decade now." Hasn't lost the accent, though. He shakes Vic's hand firmly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Vic. Have you been in Gray Harbor long? I've not quite been here a year, and it's pretty intense."

August mmmms at Cecil. "Only if it won't get you in trouble. I don't remember having any vendettas," he makes a face, "at least not at the time, so I'd be interested to know what the deal was."

He nods at Devlin. "I am a card-carrying botanist. What's up?"

Devlin smiles to August, "Would love to meet up with you later to show you something interesting when you have time." He then takes a pull on his beer.

Vic shakes her head. "Not too long, no, but I'm a native of the Pacific Northwest. This place has it's own...unique charms though," she snorts, glancing around, eyes fixing on various people in the crowd. Threat assessments done for the moment, she looks back to the Forensics specialist and gives Devlin the once over at his approach. "I took a few classes at Western Oregon U. Fascinating stuff."

"I won't do anything that gets me in trouble," Cecil assures August. He glances out at the crowd, bright eyes alert despite that this is far from his first beer. "This is my first time in the Pacific Northwest. I feel like it could be home. I like places with weather." He laughs a little. "You don't get that so much in Texas. That's where I moved from."

August nods at Devlin. "Sure. If it's nothing big, feel free to bring it on by the shop." He finishes off his ginger beer, tosses the bottle into a recycling bin. "Or if it's something you need to show me we can swing on by wherever." He grimaces. "Not being at the shop is a better idea, right now." He cuts a curious glance at Vic, trying to plot the course from criminal forensics to not great bartender.

Devlin says, "Your shop will do nicely. I should really think about calling it a night. Early day tomorrow for me. Pitty.. I've been having fun."

"Weather sure, if by weather you mean rain, rain, and more rain." Another glance around and Vic grimaces at something. "I'm going to head out, nice meeting you, Harvey. You be careful out there, Roen." She tips her glass towards the trio of men before she begins wending her way back towards the Twofer where she parked her truck in the lot.

"It was nice to meet you, Devlin," Cecil says, "and you too, Vic." He lifts a hand to August. "Always a pleasure to see you. I think I'll turn in, too. I officially dub this excursion out of the house a success, ghosts notwithstanding."