2020-09-11 - Congratulations, Innocent Bystander...

August has recently become the proud dad of three kittens. Two are at his shop with nerdy names that get him rolled eyes and threats to be replaced on the regular; the other is at home, fast friends with two minipigs. All three are in need of cat trees, and so here he is.

He's aware he could probably grow one, but, he's promised to stop using Glimmer for such things. That, and his right arm is now in a sling, a long, white, wound bandage over the impressive, ragged gash his bicep took when he refused to accept a fake reality. So he's taking it easy and doing the right thing by supporting a local business.

They're still kittens, so he's looking at smaller trees for now. Once they're a few months on he can think about the big ceiling to floor trees. He's in post-work clothes (even though 'work' amounted to keeping an eye on Xylem and Phloem and managing orders); a Led Zeppelin tee, a black and white plaid camp shirt, denim jeans, and heavy hikers.

Ravn Abildgaard was in here last week to purchase a cat carrier; his newly adopted stray needs to talk to a vet about getting spayed and vaccinated. There's just one snag in that plan: The stray in question has no damn intention of letting him touch her, or indeed, stuff her into a carrier. Perhaps jingly balls are the solution. At least that's why the Dane wanders into the pet shop today, and heads pretty straight for the shelves with cat toys.

And then, the indecision. All of the indecision. So many jingly sparkly things. What does a cat like? How do you tell what a cat likes? Do strays like toys?

Might be best to just leave him there a while.

Diana has no cats at all. Why is she here? It's a sexy mystery! She's eyeing everything from cats in the window to random pet toys. She's dressed in a t-shirt featuring a pair of glasses and the words, 'Talk Nerdy To Me,' high-waisted beige pants, and leggings featuring retro spaceships that's just barely seen beneath her pants. She's quiet save for humming, though it's so soft it's hard to make out the Jaws theme unless you're close. She's apparently a hands-on shopper, what with picking up toys, eyeing them thoughtfully, and then putting them down again.

Itzhak also has a sling, and his arm--his left arm, his dominant hand and his fretting hand--is in a cast to the shoulder and he is not happy about it. You think he's cranky usually? Buddy, you ain't seen nothin' yet. While August shops for kittens, he's in the reptile aisle, yelling about mealworms.

Some small detail of the reality outside that of glittery, jingly balls with bells in slides up and very quietly taps Ravn on the shoulder, figuratively speaking. It murmurs something to him about paying at least a bloody minimum of attention to his surroundings before disappearing back amidst the other figments of his imagination. He looks around and eventually realises what his subsconcious not very subtly was trying to point him at.

That there is August Røn with his arm in a sling. He frowns lightly and nods at the other man. Grey Harbor. It's probably not a sad accident with a pair of leaf cutters.

Diana wrinkles her nose and sniffs lightly, and then carefully unwrinkles her nose, perhaps in the interest of politeness. She's lost in the world of pets and pets accessories for a bit, until she hears yelling and turns to see Itzhak. She gives a nod of recognition his way, and she definitely eyes that poor arm, but there's no comment about it. Or anything else, just yet.

August gives Ravn an upnod when he sees him, chasing it with a wry smile for his bandaged and slung arm. He's probably about to explain, when he hears Itzhak shouting about mealworms. He sighs, goes to save the employee on the receiving end of Itzhak's temper.

Sidling up to Itzhak, he casts an apologetic 'sorry about my friend he's just like this' look at Candice. "Hey, hey. Yelling at her won't get you mealworms."

Just one lizard, but that lizard's a hefty one who likes her chow. "Nah look this kind got too much chitin!" he's complaining/explaining at the top of his considerable lungs. "Maybe that's fine for ya bearded dragons, she's a skink, a carrion eater!" August arrives to save Candice and Itzhak grumbles in Yiddish, tossing up his unbroken hand, like can you BELIEVE these people.

...something smells weird, but it's a tiny small-town pet store and he's in the reptile section. Of course something smells weird.

Maggi enters the shop with her hair looking as though she had in fact learned what a brush was. She knew that most adoption required you to look somewhat stable so she had tried. Tried was the key word considering her black faux leather shorts, knee high socks and oversized black french tucked tee reading There is Fuckery Afoot. She looks about the place covertly with icy blue eyes. Leon didn't know she was scouting out cats, but after her life was saved by Kitty Pryde, it wasn't a question. She needed a cat to protect her. It was a safety measure like an alarm system. He surely couldn't argue with safety. Seeing how perky and overly helpful the staff seems, she swerves to avoid them.

Pet stores are not Vyv's natural habitat. Pet stores are not that suit's natural habitat, either, even if it's a nice casual summer one, all cream linen with a cheerful blue and orange check dress shirt, polkadot pocket square, open collar and no tie today. Downright casual! The chef looks around the place a bit dubiously as he enters, taking in the overall look and then scanning the signs for what lives where. He heads toward the area labeled for fish, looking faintly surprised at how many people he recognises as he passes them by. Ravn and Diana get a "Good afternoon," each; August and Itzhak look... busy. They do get a head-inclination of greeting anyway, and watched with some interest, since 'yelling about mealworms' is more drama than he'd really expected in a petshop.

Cecil peruses the different varieties of cat food. He checks ingredients with a critical eye. These are his babies he's getting food for. It has to be, objectively, the best cat food there is. Then there's the recipe to consider. Chicken? Tuna? Beef? When would a cat in the wild ever get beef? He shakes his head. Too many decisions.

Ravn's grey gaze follows Røn and he too spots the New Yorker in the snake department. He nods in that direction and slinks back towards the cat toys. Where's a shop assistant when you need one?

Not a one in sight. But there's a familiar blonde face coming in and he nods at her, even taking one gloved hand out of a blazer pocket a moment to give a small wave. "Hey there. I didn't know you had pets -- did I miss a furball when I visited you?"

Diana's lips lift into a curled smile at the greeting from Vyv, and she gives him a full-out friendly wave before saying, "Good afternoon, yourself. You're going to be covered in cat hair, you know." She seems amused by that, rather than truly troubled. Then she tilts her head. "Do you have a pet? I don't have a pet, but I'm thinking about it. I saw this adorable Persian in New York..." She pauses, and then quiets when she spots that he might've been trying to eavesdrop on the mealworms drama.

Cecil's eyes narrow, and he lifts his gaze from the ingredients of the bag in his hands. He looks around with a faintly disapproving expression. Mildew? He can't feed his precious babies food exposed to mildew. He puts the bag back on the shelf, and he notices familiar faces. Vyv gets a small smile, and August gets a wave. "Hullo," he says. "Stay away from Fancy Feast, they use slave labor to collect their fish."

August gives Candice a grateful for the forebearance. "Look, ask them for a special order, and we can get some from Hoquaim tomorrow." He means he can drive Itzhak there. Which is possibly a little humbling for a car person like Itzhak, but them's the breaks when your arm's...uh, broken.

He's thinking of steering Itzhak to Ravn, because August needs to look for cat things anyways, except, "Why are all the dogs freaking out?" As a long-time West Coast native, his first thought is earthquake.

Maggi raise one hand up to Ravn in a half hearted too cool wave. "Hey Casanova! Nah, tried to convince him. Given how your cat saved our lived the other day, figured I would look around for some ya'know furendship." Hearing the dogs start to freak out Maggi calls out to the beasts, "This is why no one loves you!" It is just loud enough for Ravn and anyone nearby to hear, but not a yell. "I hate dogs, Leon swear that they are better than cats, which is wrong. I mean listen to those things go crazy. Probably saw their reflections or something..." She grins to Ravn.

"Yeah yeah yeah," Itzhak mutters. He's not being the person Mr. Rogers knows he can be, today. He hasn't noticed Ravn or Vyv or Cecil or anybody except August and these unacceptable mealworms. Next stop is the dog food, the canned kind that costs a fortune--but before he can tell the unfortunate Candice what he wants, he lifts his head, eyes widening, like some slim hooved creature in a forest who just heard a twig snap.

"What was that," he says, head turning to point his magnificent beak at the back room.

Ravn nods at Vyv in passing and, perhaps a bit uncharacteristically, retreats further into the abundance of sparkly, glittery cat toys. He toys wtih a pink specimen containing a small bell as if trying to decide whether it might do the job, then swaps it for a yellow, and then a cyan. Indecision is a factor there-- and for some reason, so is watching the door out to the street. He eventually returns to the original choice of pink and picks it off the shelf, making his way towards the counter with a carefully blank expression.

If only Candice wasn't busy over there. And what's with that infernal racket?

... Right. People skills. He's got them. Ravn turns back to Maggi and looks sheepish. "Sorry, did I just walk away while you were talking to me? I'm sorry. The noise here, I'm not --" He trails off. "Not a dog person, no."

"Mn, I don't intend to pick up any cats," Vyv replies to Diana, "...or maybe only cream ones. And I do have a lint brush in the car." This may or may not be a sort o joke. It's probably accurate regardless. "I," he informs her as if it were indeed a matter of some import -- or possibly still a bit of a surprise to him -- "have fish. One's a betta, and apparently they like blood worms for a treat." And presumably he must be being a good betta, if he's getting him a treat.

He absolutely is eavesdropping on the mealworm drama, but if you can't have a bit of conversation while eavesdropping on another one, what kind of eavesdropper even are you? He's able to get a small smile and tilt of the head in to Cecil in there as well, before the dogs start making it actually difficult. His lips purse a touch. "This is the problem with dogs." Tch. Something has him glancing in the general direction of the back room as well, but only fleetingly.

Cecil drifts toward Vyv. The man speaks properly, for starters. His attention though is on the dogs freaking out, and the back room since everyone else is looking in that direction. "Did you notice the mildew?" he asides to Vyv in a low tone. "I can't say I feel confident buying food from a place with mildew."

"Cream cats could help, yes. I suppose I didn't think of it. ...and I knew you'd have a lint brush. Just in case." Diana smiles warmly, seeming to mean her teasing to be light rather than pointed. Still, she does have to correct him: "'The' problem with dogs? You mean aside from all the other problems?" Everyone's a critic. She just barely catches Cecil's aside to Vyv and butts herself right on into that conversation: "I smelled it. Thought maybe I was imagining it." And her nose wrinkles up all over again.

"Hey, Gus!" Itzhak is suddenly shouldering his way past everybody to go after Gus and try to stop him. "Lemme take a look at it, pal, yeah?" Whether he gets him or not, especially moving slow with this busted arm of his, he's sure trying to keep him from going in that back room.

August follows Itzhak's look towards the back room. "You hear something?" He doesn't mean did Itzhak hear it with his ears, because who could with all this racket. He likes dogs, so is concerned about their panic. "I've never seen this many dogs get this upset about a cat." Thus, because he's a nosy, suspicious sort, he drifts after Itzhak, intent on getting a look for himself.

Also how dare this guy have the same name? Like really.

Ravn glances at Maggi. "I think I might just come back some other day," he murmurs quietly. "Dogs making a racket and now there's no power. All I need is... well, this." He holds up the bright pink cat toy with the little bell in.

Maggi snickers at the Dane's reaction. "Just take it, the lights are out anyway. The rule they gave was don't break anything. Stealing was not addressed." She looks around at the now very dimly lit store and back to him. "Cover the bell though so it doesn't jingle." Maggi's moral code was a vague thing when it came to capitalism. It was littering and social justice she got heated about. She gives a wink he probably cannot see because ya'know, dark.

There's definitely something to be said for people who speak properly, and it's to be said properly, too. "The loudest problem," Vyv replies to Diana with a tiny quirk at the corner of his mouth, and agrees thoughtfully to Cecil, "No. Not precisely an appetizing scent. Or an encouraging one. As the lights go out, he looks upward, the way people do, as though they might be able to diagnose the issue by looking at it from multiple feet down, in the dark. "Ah, lovely. Darkness and mildew and a full Grand Pupera." It's faintly disconcerting, really, and anyway, now it's hard to see. "Perhaps now was a bad time."

Cecil tells Diana, "Mm, no, you're not imagining it." Then the lights go out. He too looks up, because that helps. "You know, I do try to support local stores, but this is becoming something of a trial." He takes his keys from his pocket, and one of his keychains is a penlight. He clicks it on and aims it around the store. "Hopefully they'll the lights soon."

"It's always a bad time, if you think about it," Diana mutters sourly, seeming displeased by the lights out as well. But in her case, grumpy about it. Still, she acknowledges, "...Grand Pupera was pretty good, though, I have to admit." It's said distractedly, but it's a compliment all the same. She has a smile for Cecil though, as she starts to dig out her phone. "Nice penlight! All I've got is a flashlight app. It'll do, but not as well." There's the sound of beeps and boops as she turns on the app, for what good it'll do. She's quiet for a moment, and then says in a soft voice, "Does seem a lot to go wrong all at once. Might want to get your food elsewhere after all."

"I'm not a thief," Ravn mumbles, and then corrects himself: "I'm not that kind of thief. I'm paying for this or I'm coming back for it tomorrow or something." He glances back towards the counter where, indeed, Candice is still failing to materialise (and even if she did, odds are that the register requires power to work), and then back to the blond woman next to him. "Wait, if you don't have a cat -- this is about that... thing in the water, isn't it? The one Kitty tried to eat?"

"Yeah, 'course I will," Itzhak says, like he wasn't just bitching about mealworms. But his attention and aggravation are redirected now. His posture is alert, wary, yet confident--whatever he heard ('heard', in the way he hears the Song), he's pretty sure it's handleable. And hopefully isn't another dead body, gross. "Open 'er up and let's have a look."

August clings to the notion of Gus being short for Gustav. Right. Nice and Swedish. Not Roman at all. No competition. None.

"You're not having pack rats or raccoons, are you? Had a real pack rat problem until those owls moved into the greenbelt." He glances over his shoulder as they head into the back room, eyeing the dogs. Are they looking somewhere? Barking at something in particular?

Maggi holds both hands up in a non-confrontational manner, which the copper blonde may or may not be able to see. "I wasn't attributing labels, more pointing out opportunity. I take gum sometimes, it's pretty harmless." She stiffens when he mentions the creatures. Who's afraid of the big bad wolf? "N-uh..No...I've wanted a cat. But, who likes having small hard to see creatures hell bent on murder running about freely?"

"Me? 'Small creature hell bent on murder' sounds exactly like the kind of creature I like to keep about. That's my cat in a nutshell." Ravn manages a small smile in Maggi's direction. "Sorry, I think I've been in town long enough by now that something unusual like this -- barking dogs, loss of power, I'm sure it's all very mundane but I bloody well wish I was somewhere else." He jingles the little ball. Tinkle, tinkle. "My little murder machine better appreciate the effort I go to for her sake."

August leaves Itzhak and Lesser Gus to fixing the breakers, returns up front to see what the commotion is. He blinks at the shattered ceiling tile. "What the hell," and cranes his neck, trying to see into the darkness of the crawlspace. "Anyone got a flashlight?"

Vyv gives Diana a small mock-bow, mostly head and just a hint of shoulder, at her compliment on the pun, reaching into a pocket to withdraw his phone and follow suit on this 'making a light' thing, just about the time he catches a sense of movement above them. He glances up, tensing faintly as one might if about to, say, bat something out of the air -- and in fact, he does lift a hand just slightly, nowhere near enough to actually go it, and make a tiny batting motion. Nothing else happens, unless you count that tile clonking Diana and breaking, and the ensuing coughing and unhappy noise he makes at the dust.

Suddenly he looks up at the ceiling again, jaw shifting. "Oh, this had better not be those gremlins again. Last year the lights went out in Bayside's lobby one day, and little monkey-like creatures came out of the ceiling... I thought we were free of those."

Cecil coughs from the kicked up dust, but he manages to squeak out, "Are you all right, miss?" to Diana. He shines his penlight on the ceiling. "I think, perhaps, we should get out of here." He glances between Vyv and Diana to see if they're on board with abandoning ship.

Diana gives a gasp as she catches the ceiling tile coming down at her, but honestly she really only has a second to try and get out of the way; naturally, she instead stares at it as it bonks her in the head. A spate of coughing ensues, and Cecil gets no answer to his question at first-- at least until she holds out her hand toward the penlight with one thumb jutting upward. I'm a-okay, that thumb says, while she coughs up more dust. That's all she has to contribute at the moment, though she's making no move to get out of here whatsoever, instead looking to Vyv curiously.

Hearing a light crashing sound Maggi looks around and considers that the sky may indeed be falling. She then wrinkles her nose and grimaces before getting out her phone and turning on the flashlight function. The case on the back states simply 'stay weird.' "They're here" she offers conspiratorially to Ravn, motioning to move with her toward the crash as she lights the way. Seeing Diana covered in ceiling dust as well as an assorted small crowd she does her best to look athoritative. "You okay Diana? These trash monsters take stuff and have a propensity to cause murder. They are also damn near invisible sooooo be careful." Ya, because it's really easy to avoid the ceiling falling...

Ravn doesn't need to ask who they are. "Oh god. Should have brought my cat."

He steps up behind Maggi, following her and the light she carries. He has no idea who half these people are, but the Harry Potter elves, the gremlins -- he does know what they are capable of.

"Would it be bad to let out a few cats?"

August glances at Maggi between stretches of peering at the ceiling. "Cause murder?" The idea of letting out cats makes him grimace. "No, I don't think this is something we want to have access to the animals. And the cats might run outside if they get scared."

Maggi is not looking at August when she responds. "Ya, you remember. There was a bus, a Karen, some guy in the sewer...the other day they downed a boat. Trash Monsters I tell you! I'm all for letting the cats out, but that is mostly because I want to pet them." She has a light shined up towards the ceiling and points excitedly as one scurries out of sight hurriedly. "THERE!" She looks back to Ravn and sees him facing the wrong way. She taps his shoulder and points to the ceiling.

"My cat nearly killed the last one," Ravn points out in August's general direction; he's not got particularly great night vision and he's certainly not got the spatial awareness of many more powerful Physicalists. "Cats really don't like these things. And these things killed the Spanish writer once -- Ignacio, you know him. I think drastic measures are in order." Maybe that fixation is why he's staring at the cat cages instead of the ceiling like everyone else. Or maybe it's just the tension in him; he really does not seem to be in his happy place at the moment.

Maybe that's why he startles and spins around when Maggi suddenly taps his shoulder. "Christ!"

"The cats are safest where they're at," Cecil says, "and we've a duty to protect them." Then he asks, "What in blazes were those things?" His penlight still skims the ceiling as he looks for further traces of whatever-the-hell-those-were. "Maybe, actually, we should start talking about moving the animals out of here until this infestation is cleared up."

Vyv sees them, and makes another annoyed sound. "Them," he says, in a way that suggests not whichever Veil critters he had in mind before, "Yes, the ones that took that bus's... band thing." Look, he's many things, but 'a mechanic' is very decidedly not one of them. "Lyric and I followed them to a building. They were very pleased with... their triumph, though I don't know if it was getting the thing or causing the trouble." He eyes the spot where they've disappeared. "They went down some sort of drain in a basement. I was rather hoping we wouldn't see them again."

What does one do when newly arrived in Gray Harbor? Well, besides rent a room at the Murder Motel and call the hospital to let them know their newly transferred surgeon from Manhattan has made it there safe and sound. Apparently, the other thing to do is swing by a pet store to get food for your parakeet who made the direct trip with you. The little bird does need to eat while they are waiting on the moving truck to arrive, and finding a more permanent residence to move into. So it is that Doctor Jonah Moore enters Best Friends Fur-ever with a skeptical glance at the punny name. He's far overdressed for the shopping trip in a button-down lavender dress shirt and gray trousers, with a navy blue tie with small white designs on it. At least he left the suit jacket in the rental car. He blinks a few times, pale blue eyes sweeping the store and how busy it is for something so small.

"Killed him?" August stares at Ravn, surprised. Ignacio is probably going to get interrogated, big time, at work tomorrow. And in the mean time he agrees with Ravn on one part of that--it's time dfor drastic measures.

"They don't like cats, you say?" He stares up at the newly missing ceiling tiles, and tries to bring to life the idea of a cat. But not just a domestic one; something big, something with glowing eyes and too-long claws. Something prowling after these little bastards...whatever they are.

"That's what he said. Hospital revived him." Ravn's calm voice belies the way his fingers are twitching. "He's still addicted to pain killers. These little shits sank a yacht at the marina a few days back as well. Would have gone for mine next, if my cat hadn't clawed the face off one of them. They are afraid of cats."

Maggi looks at Cecil as though he is in fact deaf. "Tra-sh Mon-sters." She says slowly at him. "Also nowhere is safe, they can be anywhere..." She pauses for a moment and looks at Vyv with a look on her face that vaguely resembles someone attempting to work out how much an appropriate tip amount at a restaurant would be. "Did you say drain?"

Diana nods to Maggi, and her coughing is definitely slowing down. With a bit of a rough edge to her voice thanks to all that hacking, she says, "I'm okay. Just breathed in dust. Apparently you're not supposed to do that?" She gets a nervous frown at the rest of what Maggi has to say, and then gives a more serious frown to Ravn at the cats suggestion, shaking her head, though she doesn't comment. Her eyes follow the trail of illumination from the penlight, and then she blinks at seeing the bastards with her own eyes. "...they're kinda cute," she murmurs, then blinks as they scatter. Cecil's talk of protecting the cats has her giving a nod. "Exactly. We can't send them in as shock troops. Inhumane." She purses her lips then, nodding to Cecil again. "...do you think we've enough carriers to get them ALL out? I'm all for being on the evacuation team. I'm not very strong besides." And then Maggi's poo-pooing the idea, and she shrugs. "How fast do they move? Can we corner them, maybe?"

August concentrates, trying to insist BIG SCARY CAT, but finds a whole lot more minds than he bargained for. He can't quite make it stick convincingly. He pauses, tired by the effort, glances at the new guy coming in. "Now might not be a good time," he says. "Vyv--think you can convince them there's a big mean cat in here?" He cuts a significant look at Vyv, suggesting he doesn't mean 'make some fake meow sounds'.

"They move too fast. And they do want to hurt us." Ravn turns around and starts to look around the corners of the room. Every shop with a valid insurancy policy has a fire extuingisher somewhere. Prepare to eat foam, suckers.

He glances up just in time to notice August's illusion. "Black," he says. "Make it black -- like that one, the scary one. Mine is black."

There is a twitching of the new arrival's nose as Jonah catches an unpleasant whiff of mildew. Such uncleanliness is anathema to a surgeon who requires things to be pristine and sterile in the work environment. However, he also lives with a pet that has seemingly no control over its excretory functions, so he must have some leeway for STANK in his home life. He clears his throat as he approaches the cluster looking at the ceiling. "Pardon me, can someone point me to the domestic bird food?"

Cecil shoots Maggi an annoyed look, but whatever else he has to say, he decides to keep to himself. "This is madness," he tells Diana. He stays near her, more or less accepting that the best thing he can do right now is be a human shield. While the presence of the trash monsters seems to have freaked him out a little, the illusion of the cat doesn't seem to faze him.

"Well, it looked like a drain. In the floor, had a grate over it, I wouldn't have fit in there. They closed it behind them." Vyv pauses. "I suppose for little thieves who have no problem with causing chaos and bodily harm, they're tidier than one might expect." He pauses, thinking over what he recalls. "They're quick, quicker than you'd think, but they weren't faster than we can run. Their minds are... odd. Hard to get a proper hold on. She thought they were imps. I'm not entirely convinced they do actively want to hurt us, actually. They may, but I think it's as likely they just don't care. They take things, certainly, but whether the effects are an aim, THE aim, or coincidental..." He trails off, shaking his head slightly, and lifts a brow at August. "A big mean black cat, mn? Well, I can give it a go, yes." Why not? "Though if this is the third time we're encountering them, we may continue to until we sort something more out." But for now... illusory cats.

Some people fight gremlins and house elves with the Art, glimmer, shine, sparkle, song, presence, awareness, etc. Ravn is not one of those people. He manages to hone in on the fire extuingisher and settles somewhere several paces away from everyone else with it, getting it ready -- a task that would be considerably easier, no doubt, if his fingers were not visibly shaking. If one of these bastards comes too close they'll get a face full of foam. Bastards possibly currently defined as 'anyone with feet'.

And yet, in the middle of all this chaos he still finds the time to look at the newest arrival and say, "I think the shop is a little closed on basis of being invaded by monsters, sir. You may have to find the bird seed and just leave the money on the counter." Best BBC accent. Slightly manic glow in grey eyes, though.

August's mouth flattens. He's not inclined to get too drastic; these things are probably stuck here, on accident, and have no idea what they're doing. Maybe. (Is there any doubt he's friends with Itzhak?) At the very least, he's not into the idea of killing them outright, even though he could. So he pushes Vyv's illusion abilities a bit further, strengthening him against that horde.

...it works a little better than he expected. "Oh Christ," he says, wincing against the noise. He grits his teeth as his left ear rings, old injuries responding poorly to aggravation. "Get out of here you little fuckers." He tries to add some weight to Vyv's illusion by slashing at one of the things with Glimmer as it flees.

Maggi squints at Diana's assessment of the murderous creatures. 'Cute' is not how she would have described them...

She gives a flinch at the terrible shrieks, but is able to remain otherwise unphased. "Ack!" A middle finger finds itself aimed squarely up at the trash monsters. Her ears are still ringing slightly but she feels the information is too important not to share. "They live in water." She offers, too loudly given the noise that just broke the sound barrier. "Drain, harbor, sewer..."

Jonah looks to Ravn and his explanation and one brow sloooowly arches upwards in a somewhat non-plussed manner. Or the man simply thinks the Dane is pulling his leg. He opens his mouth to protest the store being closed with so many people in there, but then there is the screaming and, well there are things about that are clearly not normal. And there goes a fire extinguisher which the doc sidesteps the foam spray of with the reflexes of, well, a surgeon. "Right, leave cash on the counter, grab the seed." He begins sidling away from the frothy gremlin thing Ravn just sprayed towards the aisle marked for BIRDS. "Those things aren't rabid, are they?" he calls out.

"My cat is still patrolling the deck for another chance to claw up one of these little shits," Ravn murmurs -- for some inexplicable reason looking at Jonah as if he's already forgotten that the other man isn't presumably part of this madness. Congratulations, innocent bystander -- you've been Grey Harbored. "I'm pretty sure they're plague, can't you smell them?"

Diana covers her ears as that SOUND fills the room, leaning against Vyv a little whether he likes it or not. She straightens up then, concentrating on two of the fleeing figures and aiming a zap at them both. It's unlikely to kill them, but she's not aiming for that, anyway. Not yet. "We'll want to find them at the docks sometime then, yes?" she mutters, still focusing.

August's attempt to back Vyv's illusion with some hyper-realistic effects...doesn't go as intended. He grunts, turning away and holding his un-slung hand to his forehead. "Jesus. Okay. Not doing that again." He shudders. "They're weird, somehow. They're...splitting what we do up." It's a nonsensical statement maybe to Jonah, but he expects the others will have some idea what he's saying.

With the exceptions of their shedding, scratching furniture, vomiting on things, requiring litterboxes -- okay, mainly with the exception of the things one mostly has to put up with as an actual owner -- Vyv actually quite likes cats. He likes their shape and style and sleekness and they way they move, their fierce and predatory elegance (Well. Some of them, anyway), and that's what he channels into the illusion, getting bigger and sleeker and wider and brighter. And wonderfully pretty, if one likes that sort of thing. Quite clearly, the little invaders do not. Which is a definitely success!

Though not, perhaps, an unqualified success. Vyv winces, eyes briefly closing and a hand lifting to press against one temple, fingers wrapping across his forehead. "That-- was unpleasant," he says, eyes opening again as he looks around, brow furrowed partly from pain, partly something else. "Twelve of them. I have twelve, and they're--" Making it pretty clear that they've been hidden all around them, not just in the ceiling, now. "I shouldn't be able to affect that many at once. It might be because they're connected; I'm fairly sure they're connected. Mentally, I mean. I doubt they know people at City Hall." A deep breath -- through his mouth, and he still regrets it a touch. "All working together but all moving about and fighting to be the one... 'speaking' as well."

Jonah backs slowly down the bird seed aisle and grabs the closest bag he can find, tucking it under one arm as he fumbles for his wallet from his pants pocket to drag out some cash to leave behind. He doesn't even care that it's only $7 and he's leaving a $10. His eyes stay on the insanity he is bearing witness too, looking blasé about it for a moment, before he seems to realize he should be freaked out and his eyes go wide. It's not a prank. Those things are real!

Ravn is a man on a mission. There's a lot going on in this building that he does not understand; does not have the qualifications for understanding. Hive minds. Lightning, Palpatine style. Goblins connected with the mayor, or maybe not.

What he does understand is that there is a tiny monster covered in foam trying to run away from him. It's very likely the same monster that tried to sink the Vagabond -- and it's one hell of a handy target for all his frustration and social anxieties.

There are very large bags of kitty litter on those shelves. One of them goes flying.

When Diana's lightning fails to do any damage, there goes Cecil's plan. He stays near her like a dutiful human shield. When the litter crushes the little foam-covered creature, he winces. Aside from freaking him out a bit, they've never done anything to him personally, so he's not without sympathy. "Oh, that's disgusting."

August covers his face and looks away. He can't even blame Jonah for dropping a ten on the counter and booking it with his birdseed; he's thinking of doing the same. But first, he grabs a bag of liter to split open and spread over the splatter from the thing. Shaking it out, he says, "Not bad," glancing up at Ravn. Yes, welcome to Gray Harbor, where you get congratulation for splattering a gremlin...thing. "That worked. It didn't...do the same thing it did to the rest of us." For better or, from this vantage point, worse. (This is so gross.)

Jonah, smells terrible things as part of his job but usually through a mask. He makes a gagging sound, still wide-eyed and stepping carefully AROUND the carnage and crazy people. He drops the tenner on the counter by the register and tiptoes carefully back outside with his parakeet's supper. What a welcoming committee. Yikes.

"I was just trying to stop it," the Dane murmurs and does not look at all sorry that he put a somewhat more permanent end to the creature. "Seriously. Those little -- creatures. They killed the Spaniard. They stole the brakes off a bus at high speed. Sank a boat. Tried to sink mine. And now they're doing -- whatever the hell they're doing here. They're monsters." His hands are still shaking.

There is a lot going on. Thunderbolts and lightning, very very frightening. Ravn is going old school Nickelodeon on these things. She closes here eyes attempting to concentrate, but that smell was worse than rotted vegetable lasagna she had left in the back of her VW for a few weeks. "I think they are going to head to the sewers Ninja Turtle style." She announces, unable to process where the closest entry would be. Why couldn't Ravn at least have pulled down a bag scented like lavender rain or something?

Diana jerks back as the electricity splits up, and then a second time as the kitty litter impacts the goblin not that far from her. She pauses as she spots the thing staring at her and frowns, unsettled and staring back at it as it flees again. She gives a gasp at that scream, covering her ears, and then frowns. "Should we follow them, then?" she asks no one in particular.

Ravn reminds himself that actually, anxiety is not optional. He heads for the nearest chair, be it behind the counter or in front of it, and more falls than sits down on it. Calm down, he tells himself. The adrenaline is wearing off fast and his hands are still shaking. He focuses inwards and -- pretty much just ignores the stinking goblin corpse and most of what else is going on. Ignoring people is rude, but so is screaming at them in a language they don't understand.

August makes a strangled sound in response to that noise. He can't respond to a single damned thing being said because he can't hear fuck all (and he can't even say he saw Black Sabbath in concert to show for it). He makes for the back room, to join Itzhak (read: hide) and let his ears recover.

Maggi's eyes widen at another irritating screech, which passes. It doesn't stop her for long.

Noticing that Ravn has moved to sit down she walks casually toward him. "Hey Casanova." She says softly without being patronizing. "You mind if I get in your head for a sec? Might help." She wasn't ignoring Diana, that was a good idea. Maggi just didn't genuinely like many people so Ravn was her main concern. Leon had taught her how to do this, but consent was also a thing.

Cecil cringes and clamps his hands over his ears. "What?" he calls to Diana. "Let's get out of here!" He just wanted some cat food, okay? Instead, there's monsters, and the smell of splattered monster, and the sound of unhappy monsters. Not what he signed up for, man.

Vyv's head hurts, and the repeat of the scream does not help. Nor the smell. Nor, frankly, the spattering green ooze itself, even if thankfully it wasn't near enough to get on him. He presses a fingertip against each ear to block as much of the sound as he can, and gives a fairly delicate little shudder of distaste, standing quite still for a few moments as if testing the quiet that follows. "...last time, we followed them," he says then, "Or rather, followed what they took. We could do it again if we know what they have. But I suspect they're going to go down another drain or," with a small nod to Maggi, "sewer, or similar." He gives Ravn a faintly concerned look, but Maggi seems to be handling that, and someone else handling that sort of issue is very much the ideal way for it to be handled, as far as he's concerned.

"It's not like I'm using it at the moment," Ravn murmurs in response to Maggi's question. Probably in part because he has no idea what it is she's really asking.

Well, she takes that as he's not going to fight her on it. To be honest, Ravn seemed a bit worn out to anyway. She crouches down to his sitting height and a sparkle of blue flame comes to her eyes as she looks at him before her eyes close in focus. There is a light tapping to the door of his brain, like a knock before a calm floods in. The anxiety was no longer the primary thing present for the time being. Satisfied she looks back to the remaining soldiers.

"We should at some point take a party into the sewers. I'll look at getting a map." There is a nod to Vyv, Diana, and August.

What the ...

Nah. Not the right time to wonder about how Maggi just did whatever it was she did. Ravn's mind clears and stops feeling like it's fraying around the edges, and that is the important thing. "I think a party to look for the nest is a very good idea," he says softly. "A party of people who -- know what they're doing. People who can magic up cat illusions and shoot lightning from their fingers."

Diana glares in the general direction of the 'whatever-they-are's and then nods to Cecil. Maggi seems to be speaking her language, though, and she nods in return. "I volunteer as tribute," she says wryly, and then as an aside to Ravn, "To be fair, it proved entirely useless. That's about par for the course, though." She smiles sheepishly.

Cecil glances toward Maggi. "I suppose if we let them go, they're just going to come back," he says ruefully. "I can, er, shoot lightning from my fingers." He glances down at his hands, then shoves them in his pockets. He glances to Diana. "I'm Cecil, by the way," he says. Since he's been human-shielding and all.

August comes back from sitting out the talking to he was getting from his eardrums. He makes his way towards Ravn, giving everyone else an up-nod of 'hi, I'm not dead, just exhausted with a migraine coming on'. With a glance towards the litter-covered gremlin guts, he says, "How's everyone holding up."

Ravn glances up at Diana; he may not know the woman but the feeling of frustration -- yep, that one he does know. Intimately at that. "You can throw lightning, miss. I throw... kitty litter. I don't think there's a lot of convenient shelves full of heavy objects down in the sewers. But there's probably a lot of water that probably gets decidedly unpleasant to hide in if you electrify it. Just -- you know, wear wellies."

Let's face it. He just likes the idea of dead house elves.

Well, there's a dual-edged suggestion. On the one hand: possibly knowledge. On the other: sewers. Vyv eyes Maggi for another few seconds as he internally debates this, then sighs. "I'll make a note to get some Wellingtons. Or possibly waders." He's definitely not going into any sewers in these shoes. "I suppose it's possible we'll have frightened them off longer-term. Or that we could use guard-cats to keep them away. But it does seem likely they'll keep coming back, at this point, yes." He glances toward the back room, expression thoughtful. "The division is a bit thinner back there than most places, even here. Not hugely, but... I can feel it. Might be relevant."

When Cecil introduces himself, Diana grins at him. "Diana. Wilkerson. A pleasure to meet you--" and then in a louder voice she adds for all present, "And to meet the rest of people I hadn't already met." Ravn in particular gets a nod. To August, she says, "I'm doing fine... possibly better than you. I hope you're all right." And then to Ravn, "Throwing kitty litter was more effective than throwing lightning. And like you say-- sewers aren't a great thing for people with lightning hands." She smirks. "It's all about the right tool for the job. That ain't me tonight-- that's you." She gives a smile Vyv's way as she SEES him pondering the whole 'sewers' thing, and then tilts her head. "Well, that's new information. Do we... want to look back there? Now, or at some other point?"

"I don't know what you did to me, but please don't stop doing it," Ravn says quietly to Maggi. Then, a little more composed he straightens up on his (stolen) chair. "The sewers are probably pretty big, and these little absolute pests hide under the, er, surface. Vyv, I don't understand what you're saying exactly -- there is something about this place that is different? Can we use that, to look for some other place they're prone to pop up, and perhaps prepare some kind of ambush?"

He rubs his temple with gloved fingers. "Of course that might mean camping out somewhere for weeks... Maybe we should just try those sewers after all."

And then, suddenly, Gus. And, well -- not Candice.

"Oh god," the Dane murmurs. "They stole the assistant."

August smiles at Diana, wane and long-suffering. "I'm okay. Just needed to give my ears a rest." He glances from Maggi to Ravn, expression turning sympathetic. "I get wanting to go in there after them, but, the sewers?" He winces. He's been in the Veil sewers, but doubts the town's own underground is anywhere near so...interesting. Just gross.

He looks up as the lights come on, frowns. "Where's the other one? Candice?"

Light! Hooray! Vyv brightens a touch when the room does, but not for long, as it's now clear how much ceiling-and-tile dust is actually all over him and the suit. He stares at it a moment, then gives a deep, currently-resigned sigh. Ravn's remark has him blinking and looking up. "They stole the assistant?" he echoes, and looks around for her, spotting the dog area and fallen cage, and heading over that way to see if there's any signs of her.

"Ravn Abildgaard," the man of that particular name says in Diana's direction. She did just introduce herself and let it not be said of him that he's not polite. And a bit dazed, perhaps, but definitely polite.

"I remember you from the pub," Cecil says with a nod to Ravn. "Good to see you, wish the circumstances were better." He glances after Vyv "Is she back there?" he asks.

Diana follows after Vyv, definitely interested in sorting out where the wayward assistant's gotten to. Though she does say to August as they get closer, "I'm glad you're all right. And... I'm not really keen to go into the sewers either, but ... I'm not sure where else TO go." Other than toward the cages, which she does! To Ravn, she adds, "A pleasure," with a friendly smile.

Vyv's jaw tightens as he catches sight of what looks like Candice, and a step or two later, certainly is. Was. "Yes," he answers Cecil, "I'm afraid so. ...I suspect they stole a screw or plate or... whatever one uses to keep those big cages attached to the wall. One's fallen on her." The tone's slightly detached, though not cold. "I-- am fairly certain she's well past help. There's quite a bit of blood. And a drain, which I suppose they may have used." He turns his head slightly away.

Cecil walks over to Vyv to take a look for himself. "Oh, dear," he murmurs. "Yes, she's quite beyond help." He glances around at the others. "I'm going to have to report this." He doesn't get right on the phone with the police, mind you, and one might think he's giving people forewarning on purpose. "I imagine they'll have to rule it a tragic accident."

For Diana's part, she doesn't turn her head away whatsoever. She can't seem to even glance anywhere but at Candace's flailed limbs, and that trail of blood. Her hand goes over her mouth, and she retches, eyes filling with tears. She was seemingly perfectly chipper despite everything just moments ago, but whatever buoyed her mood before, it's gone walk-about now. She just stares down in unconcealed horror at the other woman as Cecil comes over, and makes no move to leave when he says he'll need to report it. Her eyes shift to just the blood, watching it in horrified fascination.

August grunts, but nods at Diana, reluctant to agree yet aware he's not sure what else can be done. He half-turns towards the sound-proofed room when Cecil asks Vyv, and freezes. He knows, instinctively, what the answer is; his jaw sets when Vyv confirms it. He pales, takes in a slow breath. "Fuck," he whispers. Then, a little more loudly, "Okay, so, next time, I'm just bringing down a building on those assholes."

Ravn looks up and quirks an eyebrow. He is still new enough in town to not quite grok those looks. "Something's wrong, isn't it."

"Yes." Something is wrong... and next time, maybe just a building on these assholes. Vyv eyes Diana a moment, then reaches over to touch her shoulder, enough to add some pressure toward turning her and leading her away from the scene. "We'll get out of your way, then," he tells Cecil, though it may well be more of a mild prod to Diana, really. If she cooperates, he leads her over toward Ravn, instead. "A cage fell on her," he informs the Dane, "Mr. Harvey will be reporting the accident." And no one's rushing in to perform first-aid, so that's probably answer enough for the obvious questions.

Cecil regards Diana with some concern. "I intend to say the lights went out, and when they came back on, the shelf had fallen, and that no one else was back there. No use trying to explain something like this to the people who have no way of conceptualizing it." He still hasn't gone for his phone. He's not usually the guy who gives people a chance to leave the scene, but...

Diana doesn't move away from Vyv as his hand comes toward her; honestly, she probably doesn't even see it. Still, with the firm pressure he's applying, he's able to lead her away from the body. She's crying outright now, though silently, and she says very softly, "She was just alive. Just... not so long ago. She ate breakfast. And then... just..." She keeps moving wherever Vyv is taking her, whether away from Cecil and crew, or closer to. "I mean. I saw her talking to Itzhik, and now she'll never talk to him again. Or him to her."

"You'll--need to come up with a reason we didn't hear it. Maybe..." August is carefully not looking towards that glass window. "Raccoons, spooked all the dogs, and we didn't hear them over the barking." He glances at Diana, expression tight. "Yeah," he agrees, making no attempt to placate. He swallows, shakes his head. "Look, anyone need a ride somewhere? I've got room in my car."

"Ignacio was not joking when he said these little monsters killed him." Ravn glances in the direction of the dead woman though he cannot see her from where he is seated still. "They stole the brakes from a speeding bus. And those blokes in the harbour -- they were lucky it was my boat they were about to crash into and I bloody well moved it. Didn't stop these little shits from stealing the seals of their boat and sinking it. They don't just steal random things. They steal things that cause people to die."

Who is he talking to? No one in particular. It's not one of those little speeches that anyone needs to hear. It's just one of those little speeches that need to be made.

He scrambles to his feet. "I guess that we need to -- call an ambulance. Wait for the police. Or get out before they get here. Whichever." The Dane's still a little dazed. Maggi Gyre's approach to handling panic attacks is efficient but perhaps also a bit like hitting someone in the head with a sledgehammer to shut them up.

"They've stolen bits of two buses? The one I saw -- the other time I saw them, when we followed them away with their bus-belt haul -- that bus didn't hit anyone. Nor the car, nor-- it was all very lucky," Vyv says, with the sort of emphasis that suggests it may well have been lucky in the same way the arrival of an illusionary cat might be 'lucky', i.e.: less than it happened and more that the things they tried worked.

He sighs at Diana's observations; this is not at all his realm and nor does he have the slightest desire for it to be, but he's ended up the one next to her and he does actually like the woman. Despite the fashion sense. "Yes," he agrees, "It's all very sad. I suppose it's always like that when things are sudden. Come along, I don't think they need us here. We'll find a nice cup of tea." Tea always improves things, right? A glance to the others may well be inviting them along (maybe hoping for it; maybe someone else can take over on this?), though poor Cecil will probably have to make do with whatever coffee his colleagues might provide when they arrive.

Cecil gives Diana a squeeze on the shoulder. "There there, now," he murmurs. "Let's not dwell on it too much." With a nod to Vyv, he says, "Yes, a cup of tea would be just the thing. Let him take care of you." To the others, he says, "I'll take care of it, you lot can leave it to me if you want to go. I might stop in for a cup of tea later, myself."

Aww, lookit! Vyv tried to be empathetic! Diana even looks over at him as she sniffles instead of at the floor. "...tea sounds nice," she admits, but then adds out of nowhere, "...I hope she did eat breakfast, and didn't skip it." Oh dear. She nods to Cecil's words and that squeeze on her shoulder, straightening up a little. "...right. Right." She sniffles. "He makes very good tea," she adds, of Vyv one assumes. "Thanks for taking care of her," she says to Cecil, and then looks ready to leave at Vyv's leisure, though she does add to Ravn first, "They're not cute at all. You're right. They're a menace. We have to take care of it."

"No use being here," August assures Ravn. "Harvey works for the department, he'll take care of all that. You'll just get asked to go and make a statement." Probably by corrupt cops working for whomever was muscling in on Monaghan's territory, which wasn't something August wanted any damned part of.

He shakes his head at Vyv. "Thanks, but, I'm gonna get home." To hug his wife and his kitten and not think about this woman's blood all over, and the capricious nature of the Veil and its denizens. He considers Diana, nods. "Yeah. Let's...see if we can come up with where their hideout is." He frowns. "They have to be taking all this stuff somewhere. Maybe if we can sort out a way to track something they took."

"Right. I'm going to..." Ravn remembers the jingly plastic ball that he's still carrying in one hand. He dips the other into a pocket to produce the price listed on the tag, putting it on the counter -- next to the money that the other man left, after dodging a foamy goblin and five kilos of kitty litter. "I guess I'll... See people around. Something. I'll let... somebody know if I see them at the marina again, but I think they're too scared of my cat to give that another shot."

"Well. If I were close enough to it, I could find the belt from the bus, certainly. If we know what's missing from here, I might be able to find that to. But again... if I'm close enough to where it is. And if they take things across I suspect further complications." Vyv pauses. "Still. It's a thought. And perhaps if a few of us looked."

August gets a little nod to his demurral, and the potential of tea after Cecil takes this for the team, as it were, gets a nod as well. "Do feel free," he replies, giving the man a tiny half-smile, and then gets on with escorting Diana out. "You're welcome to come too, you know," he assures Ravn, "If it helps, I could probably even find some macarons."