2020-10-01 - Fight Fire With Aikido

Write Club. Meets regularly at unscheduled intervals known only by instinct to its members, typically at the Espresso Yourself. Bring own notepad or laptop, buy a coffee, work -- or pretend to work -- while chatting away an afternoon with other writers, and pretend writers. It's becoming a regular thing. It's a quite laid-back thing.

And as far as Ravn Abildgaard is concerned, it's a thing that doesn't involve him cleaning up. Not that he dislikes cleaning, just -- the Twofer currently looks like a warzone. There is cleaning, and there is 'somebody call a repair crew'. Only, somebody already did, and honestly, he's probably going to have a few days off due to the place being more or less on fire still from the looks of it.

This is why Ravn wanders in, laptop under one arm, to order his usual -- that is, a lengthy argument with the barrista on duty, and eventually, a sort of semi-hostile truce in which he ends up with a hazelnut roast.

It's not often that the hooded Zoey is spotted outside of her natural habitat, with a backpack tucked next to her feet as she is curled in a ball there on the back bench seat in the corner of the wall. Her face is tucked back into the shadow of the hood draped over her head, mostly to block out the strong white lights of the shop more than to hide. One can still catch a glimpse of her purple-red hair peeking out, and the sketchbook and flitting pencil is a /dead/ giveaway to anyone that knows her. On a saucer before her on the table is a half-eaten muffin and a large cup of something steaming.

That tuft of purple-red might be why, indeed, that Ravn wanders over to the very same table and unceremoniously claims a chair, settling with the hazelnut roast that he just fought the barrista to acquire. It says CHEF BORK in neat feminine hand writing on the cup, and the barrista is still glowering. He seems to not particularly pay her any attention though oddly, a few other patrons are looking like they expect something more to happen. Any time now. Showtime?

"Hey -- got room for another caffeine addict here?" So nice of the Dane to ask after he sat down. "So you found your way into town. What do you think of it so far?"

Write club!!! The Spaniard is chilling at his usual and favourite table, with jar at the end of the table with the coffee can label reading ASK ME ANYTHING next to a helpful stack of cards and a couple pens. But hey, who wouldn't want to ask Gray harbor's own Mr. Rogers something? He does run a famous kids' show (so he's been helpfully informed!) The door opens and while i isn't immediately who he was expecting, seeing Ravn his uneven smile warns on one side of his face lighting it up.

"Que pasa, man? Was wondering when you were going to come drop in. I think... if all goes alright we got someone joining us." He's typing like a madman and doesn't even notice he's not even at this table. It happens. Someone's inspired.

Hazel eyes, darkened in the hood's shadow, framed in smudged light mascara, peek up at Ravn as he announces himself at the table. A moment passes before her hand, half-clad in sweatshirt cuff, waves lightly at the surrounding chairs. Ignacio's commentary cast across the room draws her eyes for a moment, seeing if the conversation between the two will continue. It doesn't, so she says in her soft voice, "Scary as shit, now that I know." That is said slowly, her pencil being put down as she takes a deep breath. A beat as she gathers thoughts, then she says, "Gina really laid it all out there. I am still in shock."

"Gina's pretty damned intense." Ravn looks over at the Spaniard at being hailed. Then he looks back to Zoey. "Hey. Let's go sit with de Santos. You'll like him. And unlike Gina, he doesn't scare the carps out of people for fun. Probably the friendliest bloke in Gray Harbor at that."

Standing up again and wandering over to Ignacio's table the Dane calls out, "You know I can smell fresh coffee at five miles' distance. Ignacio, you need to meet Zoey. She's new to town and -- eh, some people have given her a bit of an introduction to town, you know what I mean."

Ignacio looks up to the door as someone else comes in. Brown eyes shift back to Ravn and get slightly wider hearing about 'the Gina Greeting(tm)' and then to Zoey, concerned. "Oh. OooOoh, wow. yeah. Lil bit. Liiiittle bit intense." He does move his messenger bag into the ledge of the window to free up chairs. the comment about being able o smell coffee for 5 miles warms a lopsided grin that hits his eyes. The hand is offered across in earnest. "Ignacio. Nice to meet you. Please, sit. Take refuge from the confusing and ...decaffeinated world at large." Looking up to Ravn he says "I'm going to need to test something on you later. I think it'll help you out." It might be ominous if that sentence came from anyone not-Ignacio.

She saw Ignacio hammering away at those keys when she slipped in, made her order, and found a dark(er) corner to huddle in, but of course Zoey doesn't know anyone but Ravn inside these four walls. When he recommends relocation to /chairs/, she looks dubious. Chairs are the devil for curling and huddling, doesn't Ravn realize that? With a dramatic sigh, the bleary-eyed redhead slides out of the bench corner to grab up her things and stand, to follow Ravn. Like a shadow. When introduced, she gives a small pause before reaching and giving one of those awkward fingers-only handshakes, "Hi."

Ravn seems to be enough of a white knight to at least let Zoey have the seat where she can have her back against the wall. He settles across, laptop still closed for now (why did he buy that thing? It never ends open). "Zoey got a bit thrown into the deep end. Rekani first, then Gina. Honestly, though, most of us are pretty normal people. Except for, you know, the things. Ignacio here does mind magic. Talks to animals, that sort of affair." The Dane looks over to the Spaniard -- between them, they really do cover quite a range of European accent. "What do you have in mind, chicken herder? Which reminds me, how is the chicken?"

Ignacio takes the hand and holds it no longer than polite, but not put off by wriggly fish-finger shake either. Looking to Ravn he sobers and frowns looking to her assuring, "I do no such thing. I'm not magical. I just practice listening." Looking to Ravn he sighs shaking his head in that please don't tell people that vibe. "I'm really sorry if the city did something unwelcoming. The world's kinda scary sometimes." Sitting back up he looks to Ravn and shrugs, "Chickens are good. Cat's good. Rodents and the parrots are a'ight. I got a new heater for them so they'll be alright when winter comes and hopefully not get too bored."

Zoey's wide-seeming eyes (thanks Youtube makeup tutorials!) go wider at Ignacio when he is introduced like that. Yes, this /will/ take some getting used to. "Okay," she says as non-chalantly as she can, but anyone truly listening would hear that quiver of uncertainty in her voice, as though Ravn just introduced his friend as the casual murderer-for-hire in the neighborhood. Slowly, she pulls out a chair and slides herself into it to be near as the two talk, her eyes on the Spaniard.

Ravn curls his gloved fingers around his coffee mug and continues to ignore the stares from a few people at the next table. "I know," he says quietly. "This town. Try to think of it as an adventure. Sometimes, happy endings do happen. Take my boss for instance -- her husband, boyfriend, I'm not sure which, disappeared into the Veil. Everyone assumed he was dead. Turned up last night in the middle of karaoke. I imagine she's pretty happy at the moment."

Ignacio looks a bit crestfallen at the introduction and then the inevitable reaction. One would think he should be proud of that but it is entirely and utterly the opposite. Quietly he says with Ravn, "It's kinda personal, man. Also it's dangerous to talk like that out loud. It scares people. There's also people out there who don't like it when people know too much. It's ... kinda uncool to out folks. So you know to keep everyone just safe." The concern deepens with a bit of a frown and now he's looking around a little uncertain, but quietly drinks his coffee. Looking to Zoey he offers quietly, "Sorry."

Zoey arches a thin, manicured eyebrow at Ravn's news and assessment of things. He just seems very much relaxed to such events, in her eyes. More stuff to wrap her head around as the two talk, and it shows, in a look, that she sort of agrees with Ignacio on the matter. Shaking her hooded head, she lifts her large teacup to her lips for a long, slow sip as the conversation continues, giving a shrug at the Sorry, as though she hasn't any regrets. So far.

Ravn blinks his blue-grey eyes at Ignacio. Then, very softly, he murmurs, "Are you telling me that after a month of everyone and their cousin sauntering up to me and going 'look what I can dooo' like kindergarteners with a new trick -- it's against social norms here to talk about it?"

He shakes his head. "This town. It takes some getting used to."

There was something different about the woman that walks in, makeup on and fierce, hair unbound for once. Yes, it was surely the hair. Abitha’s usual dark brown had somehow been replaced by a gorgeous shade of emerald. She was wearing a simple white V-neck with a black hoodie over it, black lettering seeming stamped on her shirt that read, “If Found: Return to Basement”. A loose skirt, her usual black leggings, and some dark ankle-boots round out her outfit. Her green eyes sweep the shop alighting briefly on Ravn and positively brightening when she sees Ignacio. A small grin on her lips, she lifts a hand for a finger-wiggling wave, but Ignacio was still second fiddle to the coffee. She makes her way to the counter to order her usual game fuel, too much coffee balanced with too much sugar.

Ignacio takes a deep, slow breath and says with that quiet tone of someone concerned, and suddenly rather tired. "yeah. I'm saying someone tried to murder me twice because of it. It's saying the things that hunt on the other side do in fact have people are incredibly irresponsible and think it's a toy or it's funny or cool to do things. It is cool, but it's dangerous and there are real people that really feel people who figured out how to do things are part of the problem. It's really not safe to be loud about things and... I'm not... magical. All the things are out there and...exist like water or fire. It's a habit of learning how to do it. Like... complex math or surfing...or whatever."

It takes a lot to make Ignacio a bit uneasy and this is apparently it. The want to make someone understand out of concern is palpable. "We're not special, we're just good at math or...science or whatever. But... you throw fire around you can get burned by it." Taking a deep breath he murmurs, "Really don't want to wind up torn apart again." Looking up his eyes widen slightly and the tension in his shoulders relaxes seeing Abitha. "Talk about the same. Relief to see you, chica."

When it is a day off for Devlin, it is easy to see in how relaxed his movements are as he enters the coffee shop. In hand he has a gym bag that looks rather full and it appears the end of a fan is poking out of one of the compartments. A little sweat showing through his black tshirt suggests he's been working out. On the back of the shirt there is a dragon sipping tea with the caption "Relax, it's all Kung Fu in the end." Black yoga pants and running shoes also have a few marks suggesting he's recently finished a good outdoor work out.

It would appear that coffee is what the man desires as he walks to the counter, patiently waiting for Abitha to order. He smiles and nods to a few faces that he recognizes in passing.

Ignacio really needs a moment with this one and stands up, locking his computer but leaving it there and looking... uncertain. The topic hit him harder than he thought and while he's willing to discuss the veil, things, whatever, but rarely in public, and being 'outed' loudly to strangers seems to have left him visibly shaken a bit. Pulling out his phone he checks it and says quietly, "I'm going to make sure everyone's.. um... alright. I'll be back." As if there's somehow a precedent hat speaking loudly of the weird invites great and mighty and immediate reprisal? Could be entirely true. With no joy does he step out side to make the first and most important among wellness checks to put him at ease.

"I don't think he'll approve much of the coping strategies people suggested to me either, then." Ravn taps a gloved finger against his bottom lip and then nods to Zoey. "But, he makes a good point. It's a little hard to read between the lines here. People will warn you against using these abilities lest they attract unfortunate attention. And then go on to show you what they can do until you feel like you ought to be applauding. Ignacio knows what he's talking about, though, so -- listen to him, not me."

The green haired girl at the counter does warrant a glance and an upnod. Maybe they don't know each other well (and the other man, not at all). Maybe it's because those three patrons at the next table are still staring and trying to very discreetly snap a picture with a cell phone.

The door to the coffee shop opens, and Seth strolls into Espresso Yourself dressed in what appears to be his typical casual attire of jeans, a button-down shirt (pink this time) with a dark blazer thrown over the top of it, and a nice pair of loafers covering his feet. The large man reaches up and slides the sunglasses from his eyes, hooking the arm into the collar of his shirt as he pauses at the entrance, running his fingers through his short-cropped red hair as he surveys the interior of the shop.

After a moment to let his eyes adjust, he strolls forward towards the counter in order to place an order, moving to the back of the line and pulling his phone out to occupy his time as he waits.

Zoey watches Ravn carefully a moment before she shrugs at him, seemingly having no context or experience level to offer advice on how to navigate the Gray Harbor waters, socially. Sipping at her tea, her eyes track him as he talks, giving a small nod here and there to show that she is /intently/ focused on him. Almost in a "What have you dragged me into with your friend here?" sort of way. Finally, Zoey turns to the table visually harassing her friend, "Turn around." Forceful, sharp, but not /too/ rude.

In the time it had taken Abitha to get her coffee, she turns around and Ignacio had fled, and didn’t look too happy on his way out either. Abitha’s face falls, a frown of frustration and disappointment on her face. She turns that resulting ire on Ravn, walking over and pulling out a chair near Ignacio’s and not even really starting with a greeting.

“What did you do to Iggy?”

Zoey loves how Ravn gets the ire, and she doesn't.

"Hello," Devlin says to Abitha in passing, "And thank you for the controller recommendation, works great for me." He then turns his attention to the barista to make an order. Leave it to Devlin to just order a black coffee and bagel at a place like this. As he waits and catches a few comments from Ravn, he just shakes his head.

Ravn curls his gloved fingers around his coffee cup, hard. Softly, he replies to Mac of the Green Hair, "Opened my mouth. Stuck my foot in it. Business as usual."

Abitha has to do a bit of a double-take when Devlin speaks to her because it had been... time. Like months since her store had burned down, and even longer since the paramedic had come into her shop for a controller recommendation. She’s stuck for a moment with wide eyes, knowing that this probably meant she’d forget the man, but... the memory, the residue. Recognition plays across her face, a nervous but relieved smile quirking her lips, “Oh, shit, yeah. Hey, I’m glad. Held up well too? It’s been awhile since you’ve been in.”

But then normal politeness is thrown to the wind as Abitha’s serious face comes back on (maybe a bit comically) to shoot Ravn a look, “Then you better take it back out if he comes back. Iggy is a Gray Harbor treasure.”

Zoey blinks as Abitha comes stalking right up to Ravn with her hissed question, causing the redhead to shrink back just a touch. Clearly, they know each other, so she goes back to sipping her tea, eyes roaming over to where Ignacio disappeared to, and that's when she notices Devlin. Someone else to look over. Those hazel eyes slide back onto Abitha as she speaks again, then those eyes alight on Ignacio /again/.

It seems Devlin and Seth have something in common since a black coffee is also what is ordered when Seth makes it to the front of the line but instead of a bagel, he procures a lemon loaf for himself. Turning around, Seth takes a bite of the pastry, moving to wash it down with a sip of the bitter liquid as he makes his way to an unoccupied table to sit, still glancing at whatever article it is he is reading on the phone.

That other table -- or rather, the three people sitting at it -- decide to take pictures of Zoey instead, and of Mac. Unabashedly -- and it probably doesn't help when one of them suggests to the other too, a little too loudly, "We better get their autographs, I bet they're famous too!"

Ravn, meanwhile, keeps his gaze on his coffee and his mouth shut.

Answering Abitha, "It is a sturdy as you promised plus I don't have grunts borrowing it without asking as they treat it like.. well, you handled my old one." Devlin pauses as he settles his bill and gets his order. The tension about Ignacio catches him a little off guard as his eyes engage in a tough of Wimbleton side to side motions as he tries to figure out what is going on and is there a neutral corner to hang out in.

Zoey sticks a middle finger up squarely in the middle of the touristy pictures as phones are clicked, a very unenthused and unimpressed look on her face. Both for the paparazzi aspect /and/ the fact that they /continue/ to intrude on her table's ongoing conversation.

“Mac gives Devlin a knowing nod and grin, but her eyes widen a bit as she overhears the other table, turning to look brazenly, then looking back to Ravn, “Still having the chef bullshit, huh?” Mac just breaks out her phone, clicks open the camera app and leans a bit in her chair to get a good look, pointing it at the other table, “No here, I’ll just take pictures of you and post them. That’s cool, right?” She calls over to them.

Finally looking up from whatever he was reading, Seth glances over at the commotion at the other table. Recognizing a certain pixie-cutted redhead giving a camera a finger, Seth chuckles lightly and lifts a hand up in a wave. "Almost famous over there, Zoey? Is Ravn being mistaken for someone who can actually mix a drink again?"

"If I am they've got the wrong bloke," Ravn murmurs.

"Shut up, Seth," Zoey fires back, perhaps the first time that she's spoken to him. The tone is annoyed, but he might catch the /slightest/ curl of a lip in a smile at the greeting.

Well seems Devlin gets a very brief.. if you caught it that is, wicked smile as he smoothly pulls his phone out of the bag and snaps a few pics of the tourists from behind, "Abitha.. that fellow has a nice bald spot on the back of his head and I noticed other interesting things. I can forward these to you if you'd like.. you know for a complete 3d posting or something." He then returns to sipping his coffee looking as calm and collected as if he never said a word.

“Yeah, shut up, Seth!” Abitha chimes in, because obviously, that’s what you do in situations like these. Maybe Abitha was just feeling contrarian. “Thanks, bro! Alright, now, Karen,” she’s still raising her voice across the cafe, “I need you to turn more toward the pastry case, the lights really show off your second chin.”

Seth raises an eyebrow in amusement as a smile creeps onto his face at Zoey's greeting, followed by Abitha's repeat of it. He emits a little chuckle, "Well, alright then. Good morning to both of you too."

Seth shifts his attention to Ravn, lifting his cell phone to snap a photo of the man since everyone else is doing it. "I'll print a few of these out, you can sign them and then charge $40 a copy for an autograph. $60 if you personalize it."

Zoey sips at her tea, her mood slowly returning because of... well, friends. At least, semi-friends. Friendly people? Fine. Friendly -banter-, she'll take it. It's better than dark-brooding in cafe corners with a pencil, wondering what the hell you're going to do with ultimatums about the paranormal. She quietly muses things as she watches the interactions erupt in the once-quiet espresso store, her smile appreciative and still amused at the sudden embarrassment of the tourist table.

"I'm starting to understand why I had to fetch coffee the other day, instead of you," Ravn mumbles in Abitha's direction without looking up at her. His gaze still firmly locked at his coffee mug, his fingers still curled tight around it. He doesn't expect to be heard; if he did, he'd probably speak up properly.

The tourist table is indeed unimpressed. The inevitable demand to see a manager because Karen does as a Karen will. The inevitable pointing out that the privacy of other patrons is something to be respected. The inevitable screeching, and the other two embarrassed patrons hauling their Karen out of the shop -- although revealing, enroute, that Karen's actual name is Marge, not that that improves matters much.

Once the door has closed on the departing customers, Devlin sighs with a degree of relief. Over his mug before taking a sip, "At least I didn't have to go into a demo here." He doesn't slump into his chair as so much as just now looks very relaxed where he's sitting. After a couple of sips of coffee, he adds cream cheese to his bagel to enjoy a few bites of it.

“Oh, yes, Karen!” Abitha calls out, even after discovering the name, her face set much more into delighted enjoyment now, as she could never have actually seen this coming, and was far more entertained. “You are working the camera! I love how you can really see all the rage when it makes your skin all blotchy!” She emits a high-pitched, evil sounding cackle as the woman is finally pulled from the shop, saving the video for later, and throwing the device onto the table with a light thud of rubberized casing. She finally sips her coffee, making a brief inspection on if the new shape of lipstick was sticking to it. Damn, Sparrow had good makeup suggestions... She can’t help but giggle again. Fucking tourists.

Zoey looks at Devlin and bursts into a snicker. A snicker that she leaves unexplained as she uncurls from her own stupid hard-seated chair and leaves the table to head to the counter. Teacups only hold so much ambrosia, after all, it seems. "Can I get some more?" she asks as she digs into her pocket for her card to wave at the reader, "Oh, and a cinnamon roll." Now that the coffee shop seems to be devoid of tourists, she leans and puts her butt against the counter, calling back over to Ravn, "So. You were saying?"

Ravn winces. "Nothing. Nothing, really. People think I'm somebody else. It happens a lot."

The 'fun' dying down, Seth slides his phone onto the table and picks up his coffee, "You should just own it." he chuckles, "Pretend to be whomever they think you are, be a real asshole about it, and then maybe eventually people stop coming up for an autograph because they think you will yell at them or call them a donkey or whatever."

Taking a bite of his pastry, Seth shrugs, "Or it might backfire and they will just come at you more hoping to get insulted. I guess either way you're screwed."

Abitha’s phone actually buzzes on the table, and she reaches to grab it up, flicking through her pass-shape and swearing. There’s a longing look toward the lonesome laptop, an over-dramatic jut of her bottom lip, and a heavy sigh. She pushes herself out from the table, picks up her coffee and delivers the bad news, “Fuckin cabinet dude is showing up soon, gotta jet. Sorry, nerds.” She taps the lid of her to-go cup near her eyebrow in a salute and heads for the door, only marginally disappointed she lost her opportunity to fan girl over her favorite Gray Harbor columnist.

Zoey moves back over to her claimed chair at the table where Ignacio and Ravn were talking before Ignacio stepped outside, her refreshed tea in hand. Abitha's "nerds" comment gets a small snort as she passes toward the door. As the redheaded artist sits down next to Ravn, she whispers something privately to him, something soothing and supportive in his grumpiness.

Devlin says, "Take care Abitha and good luck with the contractor"

Ravn very quietly picks a packet of sugar out of the basket at the centre of the table. He shifts it from hand to hand, just looking at it. "They think I'm some kind of Swedish Gordon Ramsay. Yelling at them only encourages them. I should probably just stay away from places like this."

Zoey gives a non-commital shrug as she curls up in the small chair, tucking her heels against her butt as she cradles the large tea mug. "Fuck em," she says with a tired sound to her voice, "You just be you. Ignore them. That's what I did." She's a quiet girl when it comes to her past, where she came from both from a locale perspective and that of her life path. "Don't stop being social because of idiots, kay?" she urges him quietly.

Rolling his eyes, Seth shakes his head and rises from his seat, grabbing his coffee and making the short trek over towards Ravn's table. "Ok, look, I don't know you that well but you seem like a decent sort. A horrible bartender, but a decent sort. Why in hell are you letting this get to you? So they think you are someone you aren't, big fuckin' deal. Tell them you're not, and if they don't believe it so what? The more you react, like you just said, the more they are going to come at you. So either play it up and have fun with it or let it roll off you like water on a duck's back, but wallowing in martyrdom isn't going to win any battles against it."

Ravn ventures a small smile. "I am ignoring them but I am not going to get used to it. I'm not a people person. Hell, I managed to scare off Ignacio in less than three minutes, and he's probably the friendliest person in Gray Harbor."

He relaxes slightly. The sugar packet flicks from his palm onto his knuckles. "Anyhow, after last night I'm not really sure I'm a bartender either. I mean, I'm not sure there is a bar. Place looked like they might have to close down for the season this morning. I knew karaoke nights are bad news but this is -- very Gray Harbor."

Zoey, all curled up and wrapped around her hot tea, says with a smirk, "I don't think you're helping, Seth. They just grossed him out, I don't think he's suicidal over some gawking, kay?" A grin alights on her lips as she thinks, "Maybe next time I flash a boob at them. They'd probably clear out faster... but that'd probably get /me/ cleared out... and with a reputation, but hey." Trying to lighten the mood, despite Doom and Gloom with his sugar packet. Reaching out her foot, she nudges Ravn's knee under the table, "Your bartending is going to close down the bar? That's harsh, man," with dead-pan sarcasm.

Devlin says, "If they expect you to be an act like that man, definitely do not play on the expectations. Once word gets out, it will be worse. As you are not a people person, then perhaps print up a business card you can hand them. I'm not that guy... and as to Gray Harbor.. I am wondering myself if getting deployed to Afghanistan might be nicer.." He chuckles, "At least there, the mortar rounds are addressed as get out of Dodge, asshole.""

"Yeah, last night was a little fucked up. I showed up to folks having a gunfight with some grass skirt wearing guy everyone seemed to know. Next thing I knew everyone was hugging him and giving him booze. I was going to ask Vic more about it when I took her home, but she was blotto. I'll have to catch her later." Seth says with a shrug. "But, if you need work, I can put in a word for you at the Firefly. You will seriously have to step up the mixology though."

Seth takes a sip of his coffee, and places his butt on the edge of the table as he looks down to the booth's occupants. "But, if I heard correctly, the Twofer doesn't plan on being out of commission for very long so I wouldn't worry too much about your job. One way or the other, you will have something to pay the bills. Even if you just have to start cooking as your reputation precedes you."

"No. I think the bullets in the walls and the blown-out windows might, though. I'm no expert on that sort of thing but the place sure as hell is going to need repairs." Ravn glances up at Seth. "I'm not a bartender, you realise? I am a bartender in training. I'm not worried -- I mean, I am worried, for the people involved. But not for me. I can find something else if I have to. Worst case scenario, I'll offer music classes to rich brats with parents who want to brag that their kids can play an instrument." He pauses. "Although, if I start cooking for a living, I will be designated the next serial killer."

Then the Danish bloke looks at Devlin like he's not really sure he's seen the man before but he's making a very valid point. "Can you though? I know people joke about it, but some of them seem pretty serious about the whole 'not able to leave' thing."

Zoey blinks at the mention of a gunfight, and even moreso at the thought of someone in a grass skirt. This isn't Honolulu! Still. Bullets in the walls. She hides behind her mug as she processes the thoughts, the images of comic-book action fight scenes scrolling through her head in 8-bit color. Her own eyes study Devlin as he re-introduces himself into the conversation, while Ravn quizzes and does all the requisite talkings.

Devlin says, "I leave at least once a month to go to my Drills over in Tacoma. I'm a medic. My unit handles dustoff and I ride in with the bird." He sips at his coffee, "Could not have been too serious on the gunfire. Don't recall hearing about any runs last night for GSW cases."

"Bullet holes and blown windows won't take more than a few days to repair, and if it is a rush job it won't even be that long," says Seth matter-of-factly with a roll of his shoulder. "A little spackle, a little paint and it will be as good as new, and as long as they have a competent glass guy in town, that won't be an issue either. You will be back to work in no time, Ravn."

Seth shifts his gaze over too Devlin with a shrug, "I suggested they take him to this hospital, but they may have decided not to. It was nothing horrific. Looked like it was mostly superficial, and I don't think they wanted the cops involved any more than they already were. If I am not mistaken it was the C.O.P that was pulling the trigger...but you didn't hear that from me."

From the confident way Seth sounds, he may have some experience in these kinds of things.

"I don't really know anything," Ravn admits. "I turned up for my shift this morning, place looked like World War Three had been fought inside. Couple of workmen picking up broken glass, some drunk by the firepit telling me that the owner of the place -- who's been missing for months -- came running in and started to shoot up the place. The place looks like hell. I stayed my shift to help clean it up but eh... Don't feel like I made much of a difference, to be honest."

He shakes his head again, and swipes another sugar packet to join the first in an intricate little dance around the knuckles of his right hand; the left still curled rapidly cooling coffee. "Still, it's a happy ending. I mean, the guy came back. His wife is probably pretty excited about that part, you know? I'm sure they'll get around to telling patrons and workers alike what's going to happen at some point."

"So take a few days off, Ravn," Zoey says as she pipes up with that quiet voice of hers, "Take a trip, or play some music in the festival that everyone's talking about. Just do you?" No, she isn't bold enough yet to invite someone to hang out, for social anxieties are a bitch. She's still settling in, herself, and making friends is hard. Even if they are as gracious and put in front of her by fate like they are. Or could be. Gah, confusions!

Devlin nods to Seth, seems he's seen that sort of thing too. He then gives Zoey a small smile and winks at her. "Trust me, Ravn.. it may not seem like you did much but any help in a huge mess does help in the long run. Been a few times where some grunt that didn't know the white side from the green side of a field dressing holding something for me was the difference between life and death for the guy I was working on."

"A few days off wouldn't hurt anyone, and if they are under repair I am sure they are not going to sweat if their bartender-in-training doesn't show up, but you may have a new boss when things clear up. If I gathered information correctly I think it was the original owner that was back from Jumanji, or wherever the hell he was. In any case, people seemed happy once the shooting stopped. I left pretty soon after the guy removed his fig-leaf and got a hose down from Vic. It...was a weird night." Seth explains, lifting his coffee to his lips and sipping at it. "One of the weirder that I have had, anyway."

"I guess I might, at that. Take my boat out a bit, read the Wanted ads just in case." Ravn shrugs lightly. "Usually when something like this happens, I take it as life's way of telling me it's time to pack my bag and get on a bus somewhere, see where my feet take me this time. But eh, don't think I can fit a boat and a cat into a backpack so I guess I'll stay around." He sips his coffee, only to realise that it is by now quite cold. The expression on his face is almost comical.

Ravn nods at Seth. "That's what I heard as well, yeah. Bennie's husband, missing for months. Actual owner of the place. Don't think you need to worry about Vic, though -- he's the one who hired her. And she's a pretty tough cookie."

"Cats may nap in a ruck but they do get down right cranky if they can't get out later." Devlin chuckles. "And if your after brownie points, could always ask the boss if there is some place you can practice mixing drinks. Never hurts to get better at your job.

Life saver. Hmmm. Zoey watches Devlin over the lip of her cup as she sips, watching as he speaks to Ravn, those eyes sliding to her friend. Do the words help? Seems that they do. Nodding with a smile at her own little contribution, she goes back to soaking up news, watching the men talk.

"Oh, I'm not worried about Vic," Seth says with a laugh. He knows a side of her that hopefully, Ravn will never know. "Other than the state of her liver anyway. She was quite hammered when I finally got her to bed. No, the hose down was at the request of...Bennie? But I think Vic might have enjoyed the soda shower she gave the guy. As I said, weird night."

"Vic's pretty damn unflappable." A small lopsided grin speeds across Ravn's face. "I still think I might have trouble getting the boat into the bag. It's fine. You know what they say -- it's Gray Harbor, everything is fine. Excuse me a moment. I need to go scream at a barrista about getting a coffee that doesn't contain syrup, vanilla, almonds, pumpkins, sprinkles, whipped cream, chocolate, or caramel." He stands and heads counterwards with his very sad and very cold cup of hazelnut roast.

The ensuing discussion may not be loud but it's certainly passionate. That barrista really doesn't like that so-called celebrity chef telling her how to make coffee.

Seth watches Ravn head over towards the barista with a smirk, lifting his own coffee to hip lips for another sip as he turns to Zoey, "So, how are you this morning? Seem to have a bit more spunk in you today than I have seen before. I like it."

Devlin nods again, "Yeah, Gray Harbor is special.. all sorts of special in every way you can imagine.. and a few you can't." He sips at his coffee as the bagel is finished. "Kind of glad now that I missed karaoke last night. Friend needed help, so.. there ya go"

Zoey grins as Ravn stands up and moves off, her voice lilting after him, "The muffins are good?" Always helpful, this one. Blowing across the steaming surface of her tea, she just looks around the coffee shop idly, being new here. "Everything is fine," she echoes with the slightest of giggles, given the subject of conversation, the shouting at the counter, the momentary eruption of swear words over whipped cream. It draws a little laugh. No one would believe this, the detached and surreal non-sequitur of it all. As Seth addresses her, she answers in a one-shoulder shrug, "Feeling like I don't belong, to be honest? It's all kind of batshit." She watches him for a moment, head tilting, "Guess you've just caught me in bad conversations, bad moments."

Ravn eventually manages to acquire a cup of innocent hazelnut roast, yes, just black with hazelnuts, all right? He makes it back to the table just in time to hear that last comment of Zoey's and settles. "Feeling like you don't belong here or somewhere else, does it really matter? At least people here are usually pretty good about having each other's backs."

How Seth managed to get Vic back to Joey Kelly's house in one piece is some kind of miracle. She drank most of a bottle of whiskey, through a straw, thanks to Easton Marshall's spectacularly bizarre reappearance. She may have been trying to burn the image of her boss stark-raving naked out of her brain with it. Thus, today, she needs coffee so bad it hurts. To be fair, everything hurts, because she is miserably hung over.

The tall blonde is in a faded Def Leppard tee with jeans and boots, and sunglasses, omg the darkest she owns. Her hair is a tousled mess, because it hurt to brush it, and no way was she pulling it back with the pounding occurring in her noggin. She shoulders her way into the shop and into line at the counter, zombie-like.

"That's all life is." Seth says seriously with a shrug of his shoulder, "A series of bad moments, bad conversations. Life is pain. Anyone who says differently is selling something." He pauses for a moment, then grins. "I'm just kidding, but seriously, it is good to see this side of you."

Seth glances up as Vic shambles in, a soft and short snort leaving his nostrils as he watches he shuffle to the counter. "Afternoon," he calls to her, lifting his cup in her direction. "Good to see you in the land of the vertical."

Devlin adds in, "They treat me better here than they did down in LA. Not to mention, trust my professional judgment as a Paramedic." He looks over at Vic coming in and noticing the shirt, "I think my sister went to that concert.. loved it." He then finishes his coffee, but for now remains seated.

"Still getting used to the idea of being anywhere for more than a few days, to be honest. Still haven't decided how I feel about it." Ravn shrugs lightly. He nods to Vic's back as she walks past, knowing the woman well enough to be aware that there's little point in addressing her in this state. Caffeine, do your thing.

Zoey blinks a bit, laughs sardonically at Seth's words, a bit incredulous. "Maybe here?" she says at him, shaking her head, "But I'm sorry if you feel that is all that life is. Life can be bliss, too, if you learn to find pleasure in the small things." With this, she quiets back down and just focuses on the tea and the minute amounts of joy that it brings her. See, Seth? The little things!

Seth's greeting has Vic's shoulders hunching slightly, like he's too loud for her poor brain at the moment. She gives a dismissive sort of half wave, at him and Ravn and the others, before she rasps out hoarsely to the barista, "largest black coffee you have." She drops some crumpled bills on the counter, likely last night's tips.

"It's a quote from the Princess Bride, Zoey. I don't actually believe that is all there is to life. If I thought that, life sure would be depressing." Seth says, sipping his coffee. The bouncer's eyes drift back over to Vic, kicking out the chair at his table to give her a place to sit when she obtains her lifeblood, though the act of it causes the chair to screech along the floor a bit. "Might have a little something to make that thing Irish. Bit of the hair of the dog that bit ya."

Devlin nods, "I swear it is a rare week where I do not hear a couple quotes from that movie. But it is still fun to watch. Great for a date night at home too." He smiles to that idea. "Might have a little Kentucky if Irish doesn't float things for you," Devlin offers to Vic. He then asks Zoey, "Say, didn't I see you over at the Waffle House a few mornings ago?"

"Life is... You know what, I'm not even going to go there." Ravn determinedly draws a finger across his mouth as if zipping it shut. Then he focuses on his coffee. Yes. That's where the Truth is.

Zoey ohs, looking sheepish, once more learning more of the people around her. "Sorry," she murmurs her apology at Seth, grumping just a bit as she huddles more into her tuck, eyes watching Vic as she gets her coffee. It's interesting, to her, to watch the interactions and relationships around her. Sort of like a puzzle. The ask about the waffle temple has Zoey looking toward Devlin, "Probably, yes? I waitress there." Not that she can place /him/, but she's had trouble remembering things and people lately. Leaning toward Ravn, she says quietly, "So... you have a boat?" Maybe to bury the whole Princess Bride miss. How embarrassing!

One can almost see the sound of that chair screeching travel up Vic's spine as it stiffens incrementally. She takes her vat of coffee and plods over to the table, slumping into the offered chair. "Thanks for the ride home," she mumbles towards Seth, before folding her arms on the table and letting her head fall onto them. "I think. Maybe you should have shot me instead, it would hurt less." She waves off Devlin's offer.

"I can always shoot you later if it comes down to it, just let me know," Seth says as he reaches into his blazer and produces a flask from the inside pocket. He sets the flask down in front of the trough of coffee, letting Vic add as much or as little of the liquid contained as she likes. "It was no trouble, though. You had to get home somehow."

He turns to Zoey, confusion on his face. "Why are you apologizing? There was nothing to apologize for." He wads up a napkin and tosses it at her.

Ravn nods and sips his now warm coffee. "I don't own a boat. I do lease one. It's down at the marina. Vagabond, if you feel like coming that way some evening. Just, be prepared for the yachters there to assume that you're my newest groupie whom I'm probably going to drug or make dance naked on the deck, or whatever Swedish celebrities do."

Devlin rises and goes to the barista to get another black coffee. He nods to Vic in reply. "I do have something with electrolytes that will help that hangover if you want." He then pays for his coffee and settles again. "I'll make sure to say hi next time I am there for breakfast with the guys." the later addressed to Zoey.

Zoey winces away from thrown napkin-ball, but fires a grin at Seth before she says to Ravn, "Whatever. It's your boat, right?" A sip of tea, "Vagabond, that seems to fit you pretty well, surprisingly. What luck, huh?" As for the rest, she shrugs, "Sounds cool. We should do that. I'll bring a bottle and we can stargaze." Eyes follow Devlin as he gets up and moves, as she talks, but when addressed she gives him a real smile, a lift of her big cup, "Okay."

Vic grunts from the shelter of her arms, fumbling around for the flask to add just a little to her coffee. She trusts Seth for some reason, even though they barely seem acquainted. "If you have a banana bag in your rig, and wanna IV me up, go for it," she notes to Devlin. "Be grateful you were off last night, Ravn. I will never be able to get the sight of naked Easton from my brain."

"The last time someone went star gazing on my boat they forgot their shoes and the next day their lost husband turned up. Are you sure you want to brave this?" Ravn shoots Zoey a small smile that might just have a teasing edge to it. "The previous woman who visited me does know where her husband is, but my neighbours still think I drugged her, just because she spent an hour screaming obscenities at the ocean. It's Gray Harbor. Everything is fine."

He nods to Vic at that. "Place looked like a war zone this morning. People repairing windows told me bits and pieces. Imagine Bennie's pretty happy to have her husband back though?"

Devlin says, "Sorry, no banana bag.. but I do have coconut water." He then sips at his refilled coffee. "Will be good to see Bennie happier." He nods a little to himself. "Hey.. shoes on boat are easier to explain.. watch out for the pale skin where a wedding band would be. Learned that one the hard way.. nothing like rock salt to make you run faster"

"Everything is fine," Zoey echoes, like it's become her calming mantra in the last two days. Finally, she is starting to ease into a familiarity with at least a few people, not nearly as ostracized as a newcomer as she was a week ago. One might even accuse her of making friends. "Besides," she suddenly declares (to Devlin, for she fixes him with a look), "I don't have a husband to suddenly 'turn up', so your boat can't pull that trick /on me/!"

"That was, by far, the most unique Karaoke night I have ever been to." Seth agrees, nodding his head, "And I don't think I will ever get that sight out of my head either. Especially when you gave him the Flashdance effect with the soda gun."

When Vic is done with his flask, Seth takes it and places a bit into his coffee as well before slipping it back into his jacket pocket. "Yeah, but the pale band can be explained by divorce or separation. It's not a dead giveaway. There is going to be risk involved in any case, nothing is foolproof. You just have to roll the dice and take your chances."

"Eh, no offence --" Ravn realises he hasn't asked the medic's name yet "-- but I'm not about to screw my boss. Even if she was actually on the market in the first place. Anyhow -- Ravn Abildgaard. Folklorist, busker, sometime apprentice bartender. Nice to meet you."

"They're not married," Vic mumbles back at Ravn. "He's married to some guy, some kind of drunken happening in Vegas I think? The guy the librarian is with. I don't know. I try not to think too hard about people's relationships in this town."

Wow. The descriptions of the parties, Zoey is thinking, shaking her head with incredulity between all of the threads of the conversations. Gunfights, Flashdance soda showers, missing husbands, it's all kind of enough to make her laugh out loud. Tension broken from earlier, she uncurls from her hard chair that Ravn /made/ her sit in, standing and stretching a little. "Can I get anyone anything?" she calls out to the small group, the waitress tendencies pretty much hard-wired into her, even in a social moment such as this. She's heading to the barista's counter for a refill.

"Devlin McCloud, One of Gray Harbor's paramedics.." He sips his coffee. "Was in the 82nd as a medic with the First of the Oh Four. Did four tours between Iraq and Afghanistan. Used to play guitar till an RPG blew it to hell. Enjoy karaoke.. and thinking about replacing that shattered six string finally." He smiles to Zoey, "I'm good but love the smile."

Seth says, "I was wondering about that!" exclaims Seth, as he snaps his head over to Vic. "I kept hearing the one guy calling him his husband, so I wasn't sure if they had some sort of polyamory arrangement or something. Your approach is probably for the best, just don't ask. Don't really care one way or the other, whatever makes you happy. Life is too short to worry about shit like that."

Turning to Zoey as she moves, Seth shrugs and offers up his coffee cup, "I mean, if you're offering I'll take a top off."

"Oh, I thought they were married -- people talk about them like they are. Same applies, though. Office romances are bad news." Ravn waves gloved hand dismissively, then curls it back around his coffee cup. He seems quite insistent on holding on to that, or play with packets of sugar -- the only thing he doesn't do is just keep his hands on the table like a normal person. "Good to meet you, Devlin McCloud. You a local boy, then?"

"Phrasing," Vic mutters to Seth at his top off comment. She finally lifts her head to take a deep drink of her coffee. "I should head back home and sleep the rest of this off. Looks like Ravn and I have a few days off thanks to the bar being trashed last night." She slowly unfolds herself from the chair.

Fine. Zoey takes up the barista's coffee carafe and, with her new hot tea, moves back over to the tables. Enough people are drinking coffee that she can set the decanter down on the central table after refilling Seth and anyone else who wants a top off. "I'm Zoey Lowenn, work at the Waffle House," she volunteers vaguely toward Devlin, just to fill in any gaps of introductions, now that they are happening.

Seth glances to Vic and nods. "Take care. Let me know when you sober up, got a question or two for ya."

Vic grunts what might be a reply in the positive towards Seth, then she heads out the door at a slow amble.

Devlin says, "Nice to meet you both, Zoey and Ravn." He doesn't trip over pronouncing the name as badly as some might. "Rarely a dull moment in this town. Sometimes I wonder if the writers for day time soaps hang out where they can watch people here when they need another plot line."

"Guess that answers that." Ravn shrugs lightly and reaches to top up his coffee. "Christ and all the little saint and angels and beagles in trench coats, what a bloody odd day this has been. But yeah, come on out any time for star gazing -- anyone who brings a beer is welcome. Grey Harbor's only sunk one boat in the marina for the month I've been here, it should be safe most of the time. Besides, my cat eats gremlins."

A little laugh at Ravn's words, but Zoey is nodding, "Beer it is, heathen. I'm bringing my own vodka. I like the flavored ones," like that explains so many of the little things about her. To Devlin, she lifts her chin as she sits back down into her chair, "It sounds more and more like a place where Stephen King would love to move... but if the rumor is right, it'd kill his career. Maybe we /are/ the stupid ones for staying."

"Seth. Seth Monaghan." replies Seth, dropping his name into the bucket since everyone else is doing it. "Pleasure. It's always good to know the EMT's in the area." Nodding in thanks, Seth lifts his coffee cup up for Zoey to refill, "Thanks. I'll double your tip next time I am at breakfast." He turns to Ravn, "Any particular kind of beer, or are you not a picky one?"

Devlin says, "And to answer the question, no.. I am not from here. Born an Army brat.. and closest to here I was as a kid was when Dad was stationed at Ft. Lewis." He chuckles a little "I see it more that Gray Harbor needs people like myself that can handle dealing with strange things and... handle it." He then nods to Seth, "Good to meet you. And so you know, a Paramedic is a higher qualification than an EMT. I can do things an EMT is not allowed to. Of course, I normally have a doctor on the other end of the radio advising me. He or she is my boss.. and I am the EMT's boss."

"I'm good with anything I haven't tried before. There's a few I have tried that I would rather haul up a bucket of sea water but most of those were experimental crap that breweries try to push on the bar. Somebody's got to be the guinea pig. Tends to be me." The Dane fingers his cup. "I'm more of a straight up scotch or bourbon person, to be honest, but I'm told that it's not quite socially acceptable to start in on the Southern Comfort before ten."

Zoey seems impressed with Devlin, watching him as Seth gets schooled about EMTs and Paramedics, facts that she didn't even know. Saying out loud, her thoughts tumble out, "I feel like we don't even really know a lot about the heroes around us." It's meant as a compliment of curiousity, even if it does come across as a bit sad and melocholy in tone. Flashing a darted look at Ravn, "Fuck that. I am up and working before the sun, so four o'clock is my evening time. I am drinking before most people sit down for dinner."

Devlin excuses himself as he heads into the restroom.

Seth handwaves as Devlin goes over the hierarchy of the emergency response positions. "Ok, ok. Paramedic. EMT was just easier to say, but thanks for the education." The bouncer reaches into his jacket again to produce the flask, and tosses it over towards the Dane, "Then you should like this. 40 year old Macallan. Feel free to pass it around."

"Bloody hell. Been a while." Ravn uncaps the flask and samples its contents before passing it on to Zoey next to him. "You've got expensive taste, Seth Monaghan. Most people carry the equivalent of potato moonshine in pocket flasks."

Zoey waves her hand at the offered flask of scotch, "Thank you, no. I've tried scotch and bourbon and rye and whiskey and I just can NOT seem to get into the flavor of them. I'm going to stick to my college-girl vodka affliction. It mixes better with juices and I can drink a lot longer, less hangover." She leans to hand the flask back to Seth, "Thanks, though. Appreciate the thought."

"I like myself too much to do things like that to myself." chuckles Seth, reaching out to retake the flask and taking another sip for himself. "If you're going to do things, you may as well enjoy them to the best of your ability...besides, it's from my cousin. I didn't spring for the bottle. I don't have the scratch to drop 12k on a bottle, he does. I wouldn't be surprised if he manages to get them on the cheap." Or is given bottles as payment for things, or has them stolen. "I don't ask, I just accept with a smile."

"Don't suppose there's any reason to not spend it if you've got it." Ravn steals a sugar packet and starts his whole little knuckle dance over again; it's very clearly a habit. "My father invested in wine. Whole bloody cellar full of wine. Each with a story that I had to memorise because some day, son, this will all be yours. Which is another bloody reason I'm here and not there."

Zoey finally gets up the nerve to be direct. "Seth," she blurts out, "What is it that you do?" Tilting her head at him, she adds, "Some of the things that you say don't match up with what a bouncer does in life, don'tcha think? You seem to be a lot more than just a club bouncer, unless you want to tell me something more about the /club/?" Implying who might own it, and so forth, her tone seems to indicate.

Devlin comes out of the restroom. He returns to his table to grab his mug and then get it freshened up to being hot again. "Thanks." He tells the barista. Now back to his table to settle.

Seth glances at Zoey with a shrug. "I haven't always been a bouncer. I've done a lot of odd jobs over my lifetime." He smiles, slipping the flask back into his jacket. "But at the club, I am just what I said, I am a bouncer and I work the door to my cousin's private office. I also design and layout the lights for the club's stage and dance floor." Now outside of the club...that might be a different story.

"Felix just does good business and is able to afford the finer things in life, and it trickles down. He takes care of...family."

Ravn 's lip twitches slightly in the fashion of someone who is hearing exactly what Seth Monaghan is saying -- or rather, what he isn't saying. "If you're still up for giving us some self defence pointers sometime, I am as well. Town like this, I ask questions about monsters. Not about people."

There is a reason why standard little hard chairs in a cafe like this suck. First, dear reader, they are hard on the butt, truly. Sit in one for more than twenty minutes, and it makes a slim girl squirmy. Second, one cannot curl up in a small chair like this, and in the wrong pants, would slide right out when attempting to curl legs under. Finally, Zoey just outbursts, "FUCK!" She stands up abruptly and takes up the padded bench seat that Ignacio abandoned, like, -hours- ago. Sinking into the padded seat, she sighs and smiles, happy once more with the usual creature comforts of seats designed to encourage hanging around for a while.

Devlin smiles a bit as he returns with his coffee. "I practice Tai Chi and Kung Fu. I am currently working to earn the rank to teach." there is a slight pause as he does that mental keep it simple thing. "I would say there are a lot of Chin Na techniques that would come in handy as a bouncer. Various joint locks that tend to encourage submission. And a few that will do serious damage like tear tendons, muscle, and ligaments." He then directs to Ravn, "That makes for another time that I leave.. every 2 to 3 months for a long weekend to train with my Sifu."

Looking to Ravn, Seth nods. "Of course. I offered, didn't I? Just let me know when and where, and I will be happy to give you a few pointers." He turns to Zoey with a smile, "The same goes for y..."

Seth arches a brow as Zoey bolts up from her chair with a rather loud expletive, and cocks his head to the side with a chuckle, "You ok there? What, did the chair bite you on the ass? Anyway, I would be happy to give you a few pointers as well."

Turning to Devlin, Seth arches a brow. "Oh? Let me know when you get your teaching rank. I'm always looking for techniques to add to the repertoire. I can't say I've had any real 'formal' training, I just usually go for what works at the moment, and that tends to just be brute force without any flourish and technique. But as I was telling these two, all you really need to master is getting the groin, knee, or throat and it will be good enough for you to make an exit."

"I practice the noble art of threatening to bleed on people and ruin their shirt." Ravn steals another sugar packet. "I've been threatened a few times while travelling but -- I'm 6'3 and can yell at people in a language no one understands. It tends to convince most people I'm too crazy to bother with. And I travel light -- nothing worth beating me up for in order to steal."

Zoey grins at Ravn's comment, shakes her head at him, but sips her tea as she contemplates the two fighters giving advice and offers of instruction. "Tai Chi I could do. Fighting, I'm not so sure. With my size, I'm pretty sure that I'm no threat to anyone like you two," the redhead points out, "Probably best to just throw things. Be a distraction." As Ravn points out, different folks have different skill sets.

Sipping at his coffee, Devlin then comments, "As they say, being a paramedic is how I get my daily bread. Not sure I would have the time for a Kwon.. or School if you prefer. But I may go over to that gym some of the cops keep talking about to see about teaching a couple times a week." He then adds as he looks to Zoey, "Kung Fu and Tai Chi are two sides of the same coin. When you learn both, they enhance each other. I think you could do both if you wished. Bruce Lee was only five eight.. and look at what he could do. Yoda was right.. size matters not. However, he did miss, in some cases it sure as hell helps."

"All Tai Chi is, is fighting at a slowed-down pace, Zoey. All the moves of Tai Chi are fighting moves, so if you master Tai Chi and speed the movements up to full speed, you will have something to fall on should you ever need anything like that. Don't let your size fool you, though. Some of the best masters of Aikido are probably no bigger than you are, and they could take someone like me out easy enough. Aikido isn't about your power, it is using their power against them." Seth explains with a shrug of his shoulder.

Ravn shakes his head lightly. "I do need to learn a bit about this. But I'm pretty sure that I will absolutely suck at it. I've never been in a fight in my life unless you count biting the thumb of a school yard bully when I was eight."

Zoey lets Seth's comment about the chair biting her slide, for sarcasm sometimes gets overlooked like that. Hard chairs are the WORST, and that's just that. Curling herself on the softer seat of the bench along the wall, she monitors the conversation about fighting and teaching, sipping her tea. A laugh, "You bit his /thumb/? Seems like an odd target for teeth!"

Devlin says, "A little simplistic way to descript Tai Chi. I would say more about control of the self and a sensitivity to what your opponent will do. It is a martial art. There is a story about a Kung Fu Master that had never fought someone that practiced Tai Chi. He found a Master of the art and asked to fight him. The fight did not last long, the Kung Fu Master never once landed a good blow on the Tai Chi Master. After a few minutes, the Kung Fu Master admitted defeat and thanked the Tai Chi Master for the education. Later, in his diary, it is said that the Kung Fu Master described the Tai Chi Master as a Ghost. He would see the Master, then try to strike and yet the Master would just vanish from his sight. Then he would feel a blow like an iron hammer to some part of his body. He called it as if he was fighting a pillow that hid an iron core." He sips his coffee, "I may have the story a little wrong, but that is close enough. What was happening in the fight is that the Tai Chi Master would feel, sense how the Kung Fu Master was about to strike, move to evade, then counter strike.""

"Yep," Zoey says out loud, "I think that Tai Chi is for me." Just a simple declaration full of as much confidence and surety as there could ever be in the slim redhead.

"Everyone sucks at first, Ravn, but I will say that if you really want to learn more past the quick basics I can pass off, find a place that does full contact. All the technique in the world isn't going to help you if you don't know how to take a punch because in a real right you will most likely get hit and you can't let that phase you. Of course, the best course of action is to not get into a fight in the first place." Seth exclaims with a shrug.

He looks over to Devlin, "I was going for simplistic because I was just trying to make a point, but I will defer to the master of the subject."

"He stuck it into my mouth because he didn't like the way I talked," Ravn murmurs with a slightly sheepish look. "What was I supposed to do, write him a polite note to stop pawing at my tonsils? I was not a scrapper kind of kid. I was the lanky kid hiding behind a book. The twitchy geek with the helicopter mum. I think I left him a scar to remember me by, though."

He listens to Devlin's story with interest. This is a world of which Ravn Abildgaard knows nothing but a story is indeed a story, and stories are his lifeblood. And then concludes, "Not getting into a fight has worked fine for me until I came to this town. Here, that doesn't seem to be an option."

Devlin nods, "Seth is right, you can learn all the forms and techniques in the world but with out actually going out there to spar or fight full contact.. they will do no good for you when the time comes where you have to use them to defend yourself. My Sifu encourages sparing and going to tournaments. I have lost more than I have won, but I learned a lesson every time I lost.. Even got my bell rung a few times in full contact." He grins to Ravn, "If someone sticks a finger in my mouth.. outside of tournament or the doctors office.. I'm going to tear that thing off their hand if I can."

"So," Zoey concludes with a long, drawn-out word to encircle the conversation and sum up, "What you're saying is, Zoey needs a gun?" Because, clearly, she couldn't womanhandle the likes of the combat veterans and live to tell the tale, especially if what Ravn says about being involuntarily drawn into fights is going to be a thing here. After all, Nova and her brother. A pointed look is given to Seth, as if actually looking for an answer to that seemingly rhetorical question.

"For self-defense? I mean, a gun is only going to do you any good at a distance. I still think maybe Aikido for someone like you would be something good to learn, but that is just my opinion. You should do some research and make your own informed decision because you would be surprised by what someone like you is actually capable of. Don't sell yourself short." Seth says with a shrug.

Seth nods to Devlin. "Yeah..if any body part ends up near my mouth in a fight like that, it's going to get a chunk taken out of it."

"Realistically, I'm more likely to freeze up or fall over in a ball of asthma," Ravn observes with some self deprecation. "But I imagine that learning the basics will not increase the odds of me being useless in a fight. That's the problem with everyone having each other's backs -- it means somebody expects me to have theirs."

Ravn looks at Zoey at her question though and shakes his head, firmly. "No. No gun. Won't help. You wake up dreaming you're a fish in a sea of burning kelp, what use is knowing that there is a gun back home in your bedroom? Need to be you. Something they cannot take away from you. This is why I'm flailing -- if I could just go to a firing range, I wouldn't be looking quite so hard for alternatives to being dead weight. Had three of these experiences in one month. Every single one, dead weight."

Devlin says, "A lot of truth there, Ravn and Zoey. But the best weapon is between your ears. Nothing wrong with escape and evade. High heels are a great weapon. Stomp a person's foot with the heel into the foot as if your going to stake it into the ground, that person is going to let you go due to the pain.. then run. Leave the heels behind if you can't run in them. One of my training sisters actually practices running in heels and yeah.. fighting in them too." He pulls out his keys, "Slashing weapon" He holds his key ring in his hand with the keys extending out from between his fingers. "And if you scream.. scream Fire. Fire will get attention like nothing else will. though in the right place.. Rape works pretty well to.""

Seth seems to let Devlin take over for now, as he lifts his mug to his lips to take a sip of coffee, nodding in agreement on all points.

Ravn stares blankly at the paramedic. "You think a six foot something bloke screaming 'rape' is going to... have the desired effect?"

Devlin says, "Depends on the crowd and circumstances.. but for guys.. sticking to yelling fire is normally the best call."

Okay, Zoey's facial expression seems to say, "So no gun. Good. So teach me Aikido or whatever. Last thing that I need is a kelp fire in my bedroom. That doesn't sound cool."

Devlin shrugs, "Not sure how a kelp fire would show up in your room, but it is Gray Harbor."

Zoey just points at Ravn.

"The burning kelp was -- not pleasant," Ravn admits and nods at Zoey before he finally returns his sugar packets to the basket, curling his fingers around his empty coffee mug instead. He seems to be very much the sort of person who needs to occupy his hands with something, anything, at all times. "Woke up from that dream with burns all over. Like sleeping in poison ivy. Zero slash ten, would not recommend."

Devlin says, "I hesitate to ask.. but does sound rather annoying." He finishes this cup of coffee. "I should think about heading home soonish. Back on shift tomorrow and some rest would be a great idea before I go to breakfast.." He looks to Zoey.. "May be see if your on duty too.""

Zoey gives Devlin a soft smile at the mention of coming to see her at work, for she's always appreciative of regular customers. Even killer kungfu masters turned Paramedic. "Sure, most mornings, I'm doing the forestry service shift," as 'dawn shift' has come to be called. Looking to Ravn, the redhead finally uncurls from her stolen seat and gathers up her backpack, "Look. I gotta crash. I've been up since yesterday morning. Time for zees." Giving a little wave to everyone, she starts to head out the door.

"Think I'm going to follow her example," Ravn murmurs to the other two men. "Got a thorough work-out cleaning up this morning, starting to realise that I'm honestly quite bloody tired. And perhaps, have a bit of thinking to do. I should go find de Santos, anyhow, and apologise to him."

Devlin offers as he gets up, "anyone need a lift? Plenty of room in the rubicon"