2020-09-23 - Super Legit

Joey got the delivery at work earlier this afternoon post school and post-practice. He stayed to coach that. Someone had to. Like he told Clayton that first week he's not standing here while everyone else is an asshole with amnesia and these kids are dependent on them. That's bullshit.

What arrived on his desk? Even more unbelievable, but Duarte was very clear where they came from.

It was a lot to process. It's 8pm, and the sky is just turning when Joe Kelly walks over to Alexander's house. It's not far much and he really could use the time to clear his head. He knocks and looks down at his boots tapping the toe of one, then the other to get the dust off if there is any. He also straightens the bottom hem of his shirt as he waits.

Alexander's little house is a quiet, shabby thing, as always. He cares enough to do repairs, and enjoys gardening enough that there are little flower beds here and there, but the paint is still peeling, and the whole house has that slight sag to it that says 'this was made by people who cut corners in the construction'. There's light coming through the windows, and one of the shades is even pulled up; a white cat with blue eyes is lounging in the sill, and she turns her head to watch Kelly approach, studying him with feline judgement.

Alexander himself is washing dishes in the kitchen. One leg is in a full cast, sticking out awkwardly, and his ragged old sweatpants are cut around it. His shirt is a faded University of Oregon t-shirt, and he's humming to himself, oblivious at the moment to the approaching Kelly.

Joey is... distressed? That the word for it? This is outside of the normal 2 feelings he generally has so it's all new territory as this is neither pride or fury. He tries the doorbell and pounds too more times announcing in that deep rumble, "It's Kelly." Looking at the cat in the window he points and asks, "Can you tell him i'm here?" The answer is no because it is a cat. Were it a parrot this would be a different expectation.

The cat makes a rusty sort of miaou when Joey points at her, but her slow blink says that she is a princess, and wouldn't lower herself to do something like that even if she could. If you want visitors announced, get a dog, that expression says. But the pound on the door announces Joey just fine. It's only a moment before Alexander is opening the door, a towel flung over one of his shoulders where he hastily dried his hands. "Kelly." He looks past the man to see if something bad is about to happen, then steps back, and waves him inside. "Want something to drink? I have...water? Soda. Milk. Tequila. Whiskey."

Joey has two dogs, and doesn't have this problem, agreed! That squint of Heineken green seems to convey to the cat that they agree on that much. His eyes shift to ALexander and his posture is calm. Others might say No, of course nothing bad is about to happen behind, Kelly. He doesn't let it get back up lie that. Those would also be the people who want something and blow sunshine up his ass to get it too. No, there seems to be no new trouble in the neighborhood.

He mumbles, "Come in a sec?" That seems to be so with the offer which gets a grump. )Translated from Copfriend or from Crimefriend: Thank you, Alexander.) Whatever was on his mind goes full pause as his brain processes this as one item, "Together?" The look is mildly horrified. Then it breaks down into component parts. "Uh... whiskey's fine." There's a whole pause and he tacks on, "Please." The shit happened here?! OH! Joey red the book and learned a new vocabulary word.

"Come on in," Alexander says, and closes the door behind him. No doubt someone is quickly texting gossip to someone else, and maybe setting up a betting pool of some sort, but Alexander seems to be fine with having Joey inside. He does freeze at the together, a look of curiosity and horror flickering over his features. "I...could mix them all up. If you want. I'm not drinking it, though." A relieved nod at the actual request. He limps his way into the kitchen and pulls out two plastic cups to pour them both a drink. "It's no problem," he mumbles to the please, giving Joey a quick, surprised look. "Um. How are you?"

Yes, these are brilliant social actors, these two.

If one of them stopped to check a pocket script for their lines for a normal conversation no one would be surprised. No one. Some might be shocked that Joey Lee Kelly can read, but outside of that? Not a shocker. How is he? His eyes roll up to the ceiling.

"Stressed out? Confused? Trying to figure out why I got dead people problems, a trailer park on fire and a Bahelors degree in health education from Washington State." He looks to Alexander limping on the full cast and while he'd love to dive into the confusion he asks, annoyed, "This ain't from the trailer fire is it?" Oh he's watching Alexander for all the answers here.

Alexander offers one of the cups to Joey. "Helps with the stress," he says, deadpan. Then twitches his head toward the sofa. "Sit down. My leg hurts." He walks over to lower himself onto one side of the sofa with his own cup. "Which dead people?" he asks, looking intrigued. Of course the dead people is what Alexander would latch on. "And no, not from the trailer fire. A few of us got turned into balloons and popped." It's a tie for which is MORE Gray Harbor: that sentence, or the resigned way that he says it, like that's just something that you should expect here. There's the slightest twitch upwards of his lips. "And you have a degree because you couldn't be a high school teacher without one."

Joey sits. It's hard to tell if this is because of a reason, or compulsion, or some sort of mutual respect thing here but he's got no inclination to make him wobble around. "Isabella back?" She goes. A lot. Right now? Eh if he falls down he might be fucked. Who knows. He makes a mental note to keep track of this while things patch up.

The response though brings silence from the boxer. Coach... Coach fits. He takes the glass and looks at it. He might look like an unshaven lump of biceps made out of other, angrier biceps but there are a lot of thoughts simering around the 30 year old's head even if they don't have any words for i. Curious he asks, hesitantly, "You think... if people get un-stupid" way to put the Mendela Effect. "you think they'll let me stay?" That is actually the sound of a slight bit of optimism there. Frowning he shakes his head, "Ya know, all my life they pretty much called it. All I was ever gonna be is a criminal, ya know?? Until... all the dumb happened? I never much thought of doing anything else. Never really wanted to do anything beyond get past next week, ya know?"

"She's back. Her arm got popped when my leg did. We're healing." Another flicker of that resignation in Alexander's voice at the admission. He doesn't actually drink his drink - he mostly has it to make Joey feel comfortable having one. He's watching the other man with dark, steady eyes. There's a lift of his shoulders at the question. "I think there's a chance. An opportunity. Make sure the paperwork is on file at the school office, and when it wears off, just challenge them on it; you've already been working there. If you take advantage of the shift, make them consider the horrible possibility that they've already opened themselves up for accusations of incompetence by letting you and I teach at all - I think they'll be inclined to just go with what's easiest. Most of the town does."

He looks down at his glass. "You like it, though? You seemed to like it. And you're good at it." A long pause. "You don't have to just be what other people tell you that you are. They don't know you. Not really. They just want you to be easy to understand for their world. Doesn't have to be true."

Joey frowns slightly, but that the emotion makes it up there to register is still telling. He is not in the mind for Nosyfriend (tm)and their family to be 'popped' by anything, but that? well there's nothing to shoot. He can still do a drive by to keep an eye on it.

The talk returning to the job with the little gym? There's a sigh and he really considers the question admitting, "Honestly? Giving some kid an outlet to get out of this place and not wind up like some of us? Highlight of my fucking day. Now do I want to toss a couple of em in the harbor and let them work it out? FUCK YES. but... They aren't all fucked up like adults. Shit ain't their fault. They can still do something with themselves and...and I dunno."

There's a lot of thinking about this for a guy that 'doesn't think and just does'. Taking a deep breath he says to Alexander, "Felix and De la Vega won't let me go you know that? They've both been pretty clear they need me where I'm at in life but... I think maybe we make this work." Pulling in the inside of his cheeks there's a sniff, and a slight scowl at needing o do so, but it is what it is. "You, uh, ya think so?" There's a small grin and he asks, "Not gonna give your dad a heart attack?"

"All kids are messed up. Some more than others," Alexander says. He adds, with amusement, "Don't toss any of them in the Harbor. It's filled with pollution, you know." But the rest? That's less amusing and it chases away his smile. "I don't really give a fuck what Felix wants," he says, plainly. Then holds up a hand. "I know you do. And Javier..." a shrug. "Javier is complicated. And I can't...fix those problems for you." He thinks about it. "Well. I could fix one of them. But you probably wouldn't like how I'd do it, and it'd destabilize things that I reluctantly concede are best left stable at this moment. "

At the mention of his dad, there's a pained half-smile. "Pop must have liked you well enough. And he just doesn't want the world to be...anything other than normal. He'll tell himself whatever he needs to so that he doesn't have to think about the weirdness. So. You'll probably get a call or something from him about how he's glad you straightened yourself out, and offering mentoring or something." He shrugs. "He tried to take care of his players. I think you will, too. Just different ways, probably."

Joey snickers and grins in amused earnest agreement, "Fine, I won't keel haul em." Shaking his head there is a pause, with a thoughtful squint to Alexander, "Naw, I mean everyone's on the same page there. Felix doesn't want someone unreliable, and de la Vega wants someone there who will keep collateral damage to a goddamn minimum, or..." His head sways to the side murmuring, "He did once." taking the drink shaking his head, "Town won't survive these cowboys runnign up in here and that's exactly what's starting to happen, but..."

There's a long quiet pause, and why Alexander of all people he's telling this to? WHo knows. Maybe it's because in spite of knowing the truth he's helping him change some part of it? Maybe it's because Alexander's crazy enough by public opinion the truth gets lost in their impatience? Who the fuck knows. "If I could change things without everything falling the fuck apart? I'd do this instead but... ya know, maybe now I can survive the wake up when the dumb wears off without having to give it up." There's a longer pause and he finally asks trying to understand it all, "Why'd you do it?"

Alexander snorts with sudden laughter. "Keel haul? I see you were paying attention during the fun parts of history, at least." He smiles, and the smile lingers even as talk turns back to Felix and Ruiz. "And you're good at being reliable, and you're good at avoiding collateral damage. I see the sense of having you where you are, and I won't pretend I'm not glad that it's you organizing the response to these assholes from out of town, on that side. It's probably the only reason things haven't escalated to a full shooting war. Although I expect we'll get there." That's resigned, not condemnatory - as odd as he is, there are things Alexander understands, and one of them is that these interlopers probably won't go without a real fight.

"Change starts small. Unless you flip out and set everything on fire. Which has its own consequences. But usually, change starts small." He takes another sip of his whiskey as Joey asks that question. There's no answer. Not for a while. Maybe he has to ask himself the question. When the answer comes, it's as a series of statements. Observations. "You're good at it. You enjoy it. The kids benefit from it. You won't use the position to sell them drugs or recruit into things that are gonna wreck their lives, and that's not always something I can say about people who got their qualifications the regular way. It's unconventional, and illegal, but it's not wrong. And..." he falls silent again for several long minutes, before he adds, "I did it because I wanted to. Because you can do more than you've gotten the opportunity to do. So. It's not wrong."

Joey flickers a grin to Alexander and admits with an amused smile he didn't intend, "Hey I went through a phase my brother and I were gonna quit and become pirates and live in the Harbor like Jack Sparrow, okay?" There's a pause and he shrugs, "Kinda did?" He's sort of a pirate!

The more serious talk has Joey out of comfortable waters here. Coaching is fine. he can coach all damn day. Having someone have a lot of faith in him for selfless reasons is foreign territory. "If the law was always fair my ma'd be breathing, but... eh." It's been 12 years. It's slightly moot to worry about the past and not the shitshow that is the present.

It still leaves him a lot to think about but in the end there is a nod accepting the answer even if it will take a lifetime maybe to really get it. "You're a good friend, Clayton. Don't actually have a lot of those turns out, but still more than what I thought I had. " Shit, that's a feeling. Nuuuu abort, abort!

There's a deep breath to keep things at an even keel wondering to him with a wry grin, "You seriously get them to wipe my record so I can teach? How you not go broke doing that cause I was a fuuuucked up lil dude. Your contact musta been there all week." The only way through feelings is some humor about the unpleasant parts sometimes.

Alexander snorts. "You're not a real pirate until you have a parrot, Kelly." From his cage, Luigi whistles, as if recognizing that someone is talking about one of his distant relatives. Alexander looks in that direction, "And you stay out of it." With a flick of his tail, the bird turns his back on Alexander an the investigator rolls his eyes.

More seriously, he nods. "Yeah. Sometimes what's lawful isn't right, and vice versa...although less often than some people would like to think," he adds, dryly. He's not on Team Crime just yet, clearly. When Joey calls him a good friend, though, he smiles, brief and warm. "I like you, too, Kelly." He does make a quick shake of his head at the last. "Shit, man. I don't have that kind of cash. You have a clean background check and fingerprint card, but do not let them run another on you, or take your fingerprints. You're clean electronically for that particular database, but...I'm kinda hoping to rely on Gray Harbor's general air of 'shit is weird, don't poke at it too much' to keep things from going south. And, I mean, I'm sure I don't have to say that if you get arrested or something after this point, not all the technically clean background checks in the world are gonna save you. The papers are high quality, though. They should pass any check they wanna do." He doesn't answer about the funds, but he doesn't really meet Joey's eyes, either.

Joey breaks the thoughtful weight of a lot of feelings ( a LOT of fucking feelings) making him rather silent to suss them out, but calling his pirating into question upturns one corner of his mouth, "I got two people whose job it is to repeat everything I say and one that qualifies as a powder keg monkey, but don't tell Cruz I called him that. He's been taking care of people this week." This gets a pass considering everything has literally been on fire.

"Dude, I don't have my kind of cash half the time." There's a pause and a quiet before he finally puts all his thoughts together, "If I could just do this, honestly?" Lips press together and the admission comes with a shake of his head, "I'd take it. Won't waste it though. I think... I'd like to think my mom'd be proud of this too. I tried to tell her ya know but... ghosts don't so much get the present. I promise to be careful though. Someone' gotta keep the ugly shit from spilling over still I guess." There is a pause followed by the highly unlikely, "We got a game coming up this weekend if you want to drop in."

Alexander snorts with amusement. "I suppose the judges will allow those to qualify as parrots. You still need a boat, though." He flashes a grin at the mention of Cruz as a monkey, but mimes zipping his mouth shut; not gonna say a word. Possibly because he feels like Cruz would punch him before he went looking for Joey. He nods, at the admission. "You'd be good at it. I assume you're good at what you otherwise have to do - I haven't caught you yet, anyway - but you're very good with kids. And I think your mom has always been proud of you, whether in ghost form, or...whatever." He shrugs. There's a flicker of surprise at the invitation.

He has to think about it, staring at Joey with those tired, dark eyes. Until finally, he nods. "Sure. I'll drop buy. Bring some wings or something with me."

Joey cracks a faint smile, easier as he makes peace with this whole illegally gained legitimacy. "Good. Be good to have you there. So... this balloon situation thing sounds...like it really sucks. They able to fix your leg, her arm or what? Someone looking into this?" He's not forgotten. He eyes it and then Alexander. "Look I got a kid that needs to stay out of trouble. I'm setting him up with lawns o rake and shit to stay out of trouble. When he comes over to do mine...I'll call you. You don't need to be walking around on that and he needs an excuse to do something not dumb." Because it's easier to look after Clayton this way than that hole I don' want to owe anyone favours thing he's so damn allergic to. Joey's on to him.

There's a weary sort of shrug from Alexander. "It sucks. We're gonna look into it a bit more - there was some sort of circus or carnival tent over there, and that might be related to the false memories people have. And a couple of people have done a little healing. Enough to make sure my leg is going to actually come back together again, and not just fall apart." A little chuckle. "I'd rather have all my limbs, if I'm gonna keep being nosy at people who'd rather I wasn't." The offer is considered, then nodded at. "Sure. I'd appreciate that. Getting on my knees is a bitch, right now." He smiles at Joey. "Thanks."

Joey listens and even thought he news is... well it sucks, but neither one of them are strangers to being turned into hamburger meat. "Well, if you need someone to drive or help you deal with, ya know, bullshit? Call or whatever. Nicole might kill me or sayin that but, it's probably safer than half the things I've been asked to do to 'help' someone so... call." Looking around and back he muses, "You're somethin else ya know that Clayton? Not a bad thing, but I think a needed thing." He pauses and squints trying to remember, "Morally requisite? You know til your stupid little book," which he HAS been reading turns out!, "I thought 'requisite' was a type of barbecue sauce. But your'e welcome."

"It's a dictionary, Kelly. It's the opposite of stupid," Alexander says, with a touch of exasperation. But also pleasure; he smiles when Joey says he's been reading it. "I'm just a person. I don't mean to say we'll always be on the same side. But I like to believe in people." He looks away for a moment. "People think I'm a bad judge of character. That I don't know when someone's dangerous, or when they're bad. That's not true. I just prefer to give people a chance to disappoint me. So far, you haven't. That's all. I'm not really a good person, though. Or a, uh, moral person. I'm just a person."

Joey waves his hand in an eeeeeh to the correction about the dictionary. "No, Alexander, people usually don't fucking think. If they did you, me, and the PD would all be out of a goddamn job." He pauses and notes, "I don' mean the school system. That's goin alright." He shakes his head, "Kids are too young to know what they need to and too many figured out what they shouldn't have to. It's a mess. That's not it."

The notice that he's on the list of people that haven't disappointed him gets a funny squint and a frown, "That's kinda messed up." He's got no illusions as to who or what he is. To a point it can't be helped. Well, until now and the thing that brought him here.

"People do think," Alexander says, with a frown. "We like to think they don't, because we don't like the answers they come up with. But people, by and large, aren't stupid. They do stupid things. Usually because they're hurt or scared or angry and so they react with the first thing that feels like it'll push whatever's making them so away." He looks at Luigi's cage rather than Joey. "I'm an empath. Have been since I was a little kid. Everybody hurts so much, Kelly. Everyone is so lost, and confused, and lonely. Some of them get angry because it's better than feeling despair. Others just wither inside of themselves, all self-hate and darkness. It's--" he breaks off, there, and sighs. "People are complicated. Sometimes they can't be allowed to keep doing what they're doing, but I don't usually blame them for it. I'm angry, too." He looks back at kinda messed up, and smiles, just a little. "Have you forgotten who you're talking to, Kelly? Town crazy. Messed up is sort of my domain."

Joey arches an eyebrow slowly as zero of this is new news while Alexander, does in fact, explain his own culture to him. Quietly he agrees, "Yeah. I know. Tried it out for thirty years. I keep waiting for it to be 'fun'." It's a dry humor but it's what he's got left. That and a heavy sigh. "Yeah, right? You're as crazy as I am just a criminal, Clayton. The definition," he's an expert at looking shit up now, "is someone that knows better and does it anyways. So...yeah. They're kinda stupid. Not my fault. Workin on that."

Alexander stares at Joey, his face blank. Then, he says, "I don't think that's the definition in the dictionary. But, I won't say it's wrong." He smiles. "And I think you are. Working on it. So, good. If I can help, I will. You're a friend, after all." The smile widens, just briefly, to something bright and sunny and almost innocent, then goes back to his usual wary, defensive sort of expression.

Joey snorts with a half chuckle at the admittance that it's not wrong per se. Today's a lot for him to come to terms with. There is a squint, a sentiment buried, but surfacing just enough in the squint, "Yeah, well, good. I'll try not to let you down too much." he has no illusions about that either. He's still just a dude, but one with a paper square now. "Those kids don't have to believe in me though, just in themselves and then maybe get out of this fucking town. Christ almighty."

Alexander just stares at Joey. He doesn't say that he's the kind of guy who gets let down by people a lot, or that he's come to expect it, but it's all sort of there on his face. Unlike Joey, he doesn't really have a stoic bone in his body, and the only way he's ever going to win a game of poker is by using actual psychic powers. What he does say, eventually, is, "Getting out of town is a good goal for anyone born in Gray Harbor. But don't sell yourself short, either." He smiles. "I'm glad you like the papers. And thank you for the invitation to the game. I'll definitely come. In the mean time, try to take care of yourself? At this point, I'd be irritated if you died."

Joey gets up and sighs looking around and back to that leg. he doesn't like tit but what he can do about it he is and that's find someone who needs to be kept busy take over menial things. "How come I have the feeling you're the type of person who if I died I'd still be hearing about it?" It's a compliment to his skills. He can't do it. Taking a deep breath he murmurs, "I'll swing by tomorrow. See if you guys need anything. I'm gonna get home and try to explain to Nicole what's... going on and make sure she's alright."

Alexander also rises, with a small amount of struggle. "I mean. If I could yell at people after they died, I'd be doing a lot more yelling than I am right now. There are so many people who need to be yelled at." He limps his way towards the door, but hesitates before pulling it open. "I should probably be telling you not to put her in danger, and all of that. But really? Don't push her away. Let her make her choices. She seems smart, and I'm pretty sure she'd hit you with a hair dryer if you tried to throw her out. So," he smiles, "enjoy it. It's okay to love someone." He opens the door. "Don't die."