2020-10-02 - Designated Red Shirts

It's early afternoon - a time most people are doing other things. SChool, work, classes - but of course, some epople always stop by for coffee and entertainment. So perhaps it's not TOO surprising that Gina is here, seated at a table near the window looking out towards the drizzling, foggy expanse. She's wearing black skinny jeans tucked into black boots, a bleach-splattered red flannel shirt left unbuttoned to show the cropped black t-shirt beneath, the flannel sleeves pushed up. She's got some sort of coffee creation in a mug in front of her that she sips while writing in a slender, small, dark green notebook.

Ravn Abildgaard's missing his usual easy smile as he wanders into the coffee shop today. He looks just like anyone who knows him even superficially would expect -- black all the way down, from the turtleneck and blazer to the boots -- as he heads for the counter where he orders, "Whatever, as long it contains caffeine."

Della the day manager stares at him blankly.

He stares back.

Della the day manager tentatively reaches for the caramel syrup.

Ravn says nothing.

And that is how he ends up being served the largest cup of caffeinated sugar, sprinkles, whipped cream, pumpkin spice, almond flakes, caramel syrup, and half a dozen other things he usually argues very vehemently against. They've had this argument every single time Ravn has ordered coffee here in five weeks. Della is getting even, oh, so very even, with that idiot Swedish chef. Revenge is sweet.

It seems like it'd be human nature to check on sounds and motion and how is it that Gina doesn't? The truth is a secret, but far less of a secret is that Gina, this time, DID glance at the door when someone walked in from the grey and drizzled outside. She sips her own tolerably made to her specifications drink, watching Ravn with silent consideration. Then looks down in her notebook, pen in hand and coffee in the other, sipping as she flips back to a previous section and writes some expansion there.

Extremely oddly, she also glances at the chairs around her table, seemingly... considering their empty states.

She says nothing quite yet - Ravn is still at the counter, being served the sugariest of drinks, after all. Best to see how he reacts.

Ravn does eventually find himself accepting -- and paying for -- a dessert in a cup capable of sending at least three teenage girls to hospital with acute-onset diabetes. It's the kind of coffee dessert that an entire kindergarten would go to war over, bring home, share, and still have some left because there is only room for so much whipped cream in each child soldier. It's a monstrosity. It is going down in history as Della's Revenge.

He doesn't pay it much attention. Just a slight shake of the head and then turning around, looking around for an empty seat. Preferably one without someone at the next table over just itching to take a picture.

Seeing his reaction seems to... perk something in Gina. Behind her mug her lips curve into an unconscious, brief smile, before she slumps low in her seat and - rather loudly - uses her foot to scrape back the chair across from her at the table, even managing to angle it invitingly. She doesn't say a word, but she does retract her foot, closing her notebook casually and looking right in Ravn's direction, both brows raised. Seeing if he'll take the bait.

The copper blond nods slightly at the invitation and walks over, He pulls the chair out properly and sits on it, placing his very personal heart attack in a cup on the table and just -- looking at it in mild disbelief. Actually, in quite severe disbelief.

"...I should have argued, shouldn't I?" He sighs.

Gina reaches over with the spoon of her own drink, scooping up a pleasant spoonful of whipped cream and syrup and salted caramel pieces and almond flakes and sprinkles and who knows what else, and then licks it off the spoon.. Not intimidated! You only live once! "Kind of a hot mess, flavorwise, but it's pretty interesting." Gina decides, before the spoon tilts to one side and she sets those dark eyes on Ravn, "You did argue last time. Gave up already?"

"All I want is coffee. Black. Percolated. That's it. She considers it a personal offence." The Dane sighs. "Thought I'd try to -- not be obstinate. It's not about me, after all. She just thinks I'm some TV bigshot with a bad accent trying to tell her how to run a business."

"Delicate, huh." Gina reaches for another spoonful - has she asked permission? Is she using the same spoon she licked? Yup. "You should try it. Doesn't seem that bad, even if it's not what you want." Gina continues, tone oh so mild as she partakes of this new spoonful. "Broaden your horizons. Someone else call you a stubborn shithead or is this just sudden enlightenment on your part?" Yeah, just slip that in casually, Gina.

"It's come up a few times. Been a busy day. Well, yesterday. Lots of things clicking into place. Most of them I could have gone without, though not everything was bad news." Ravn shakes his head lightly and without further ado, slides the monstrosity across the table, giving up ownership of it. "I'm pretty sure there's no cyanide in it but maybe skip anything that tastes like bitter almonds."

Gina smiles, then, and it's not a cheery, grateful,smile. No, it's more of an amused, sly... sharp-toothed... smile as she slides the dessert masquerading as a drink right back. "Took a lot of time and effort for them to make this for you, birdboy. SHould consider at least trying it. Who knows, maybe you'll like it." She taps the spoon against her own mug, before setting it down and picking up the mug, leaning back in her seat. "This related to your secret lost boss coming back, or something else entirely?"

"What? No. No, I haven't met Marshall yet. The Twofer looks like a warzone, it'll be closed for at least some days while the repair crews work. I imagine someone'll tell me when it's time to come in again. Heard that off Vic yesterday -- Bennie's gone to ground somewhere with the guy, unsurprisingly." Ravn smiles lightly. "No, that was the good news, actually."

He leans back on his chair, ignoring the sugary horror in front of him. "No, it's more of a general feeling of fuck-uppery. Mine, that is."

The door to diner opens with Geoff ushering Harper on in through before following in after her and wrapping an arm about her waist as he walks them up to a pair of open stools along the counter "I'm telling you I'm fine Harps, you didn't have to insist on driving." The man flashing what's supposed to be a reassuring grin as he takes his seat at his accustomed stool. Looking to Gina he offers an upnod and asks of a passing waitress "Hey could I get a coffee, black, and a cinnamon dolce latte." his head tilting towards Harper as if there was any doubt the latter drink was for her.

Gina nods, "About time you realized it, anyway." Gina spares no one! Just continues to sip her drink, her attention turning to the wet and drizzling outdoors. "Doesn't matter much, though." Her attention goes back to her drink-- but her eyes are on the door as Geoff and Harper, and follow them as they walk in settle down. And-- actually lifts her mug in greeting to the pair. Acknowledgement! Look at this, Ravn! Gina acknowledges people sometimes! But her eyes slide back to Ravn, "You could always try stealing Geoff's coffee if you don't want to drink the one you paid for." That monstrosity of sugar.

"... if you're going to really mess them up, I mean that's what I would do. It might be a bit psychopathic, but ..." Geoff opens the door for Harper and she actually pauses and considers whether to enter first before actually doing o. The man clearly stops her ranting by telling the librarian how capable he is of driving himself places (which he is). "If you use the muscle less, maybe it will heal faster," she simply says in a gentle tone of pseudo-logic that only those who know her well will recognize as stubborn-Harper.

And then there's coffee. The permanent aroma of roasted coffee beans of the place, the pleasant temperature, it belatedly settles around the woman who looks startlingly unkempt compared to what one usually sees when they see the librarian. Her shirt is rumpled, half tucked, half not. Jeans. Sandals. Even her hair has a bit more of a flyaway look than usual. She tucks a misbehaving strand of said dark hair behind one ear though that doesn't help much.

Harper doesn't sit. She circles around to Geoff's left side and faintly dips her chin as Geoff clearly orders one of the right choices for her caffeine-imbibing pleasure. After she's paid the barista, she slides a look around the nearly empty coffee shop and spies Gina and Ravn. Her usually-ready smile is there, though it's a bit more complex than usual. "Sounds delicious," she concedes near Geoff's ear since he's stool-perched and she's standing. "I know that man sitting with Gina. Do you want to stay a little and invade their ..." She looks at the pair and the cup of diabetes between them, "... whipped cream party?"

"I may be a stubborn shithead but I'm not that kind of thief," Ravn murmurs. "Not getting between a man and his coffee. Particularly not a man who is actually able to convince Della to serve proper coffee. I might ask him for lessons."

Geoff cedes to Harper "Okay fine it might heal a bit faster if I relax it." That's when he catches the suggestion that his coffee might get stolen "I once had a guy in prison try and steal my coffee, I broke two of his fingers." This is offered as simply as if were what anyone would have done in that situation. Looking towards Ravn, he studies the man for a moment before his gaze turns once more to Gina "Anything interesting going on other then this guy not liking the coffee?" he then informs Ravn "It's decent coffee."

"Can't you tell we're on a hot and spicy date? It's just starting to get good, too." Gina says, her tone absolutely deadpan. She looks unruffled by Geoff's story, or Harper's unkempt appearance. "He's starting to think I'm not so bad. So I was going to invite him over to have coffee at my place and have my way with him before dumping the corpse, but now you two showed up and that means witnesses." Like everyone else in the cafe doesn't count? But Gina gives a small shrug, "The mask probably wouldn't fit over his ego anyway." Much like she did for Ravn, she kicks the chairs out with her foot - her way of inviting them to sit - before she sips at her own drink. "Ravn, that's, ex-con and universal heartbreaker Geoff. He's my one true love. Librarian and stubborn as shit smart-aleck's his girlfriend Harper. G, Harp, this is Arrogant Newbie In Town Ravn. Not so new now. The shine's starting to wear off on the Strange." Gina gives all these introductions as if they were just the instructions for hwo to prepare a latte: bored, confident, and completely blase about it.

Geoff's words relax the line of Harper's shoulders ever so slightly. Then he addresses Ravn. Shouldn't a potentially veiled threat like that bother the librarian? Or maybe the violence itself? It certainly doesn't in this moment, though the fact that it has nothing to do with Ravn isn't quite as obvious. "He was probably lucky that was all you did," she intones as her coffee is slid over the counter. There are a long few seconds before Harper says her usual, "Thanks."

She tugs gently on Geoff's knee to try to urge him to stand up and move over to the table with her as she says to the Dane, "Ravn Abildgaard. You're still here." He stayed. In Gray Harbor. After what he described seeing. "Harper," she reminds. Points to the man she's with, "That's Geoff. And odds are good he won't break your fingers." She pulls up a seat at the table and looks to Gina and says without prelude, "Geoff got shot." This is important information for Gina to know? Better yet, is it possible she hasn't already heard? The words are spoken almost with accusation, though no one present did the shooting.

A hot and spicy date. Harper looks from Gina to Ravn and there comes a fleeting glimpse of that usual, playful smile. "Looks like a match-dot-com miracle. Soulmates, for sure." Gina, as usual, pulls off the improbable, at least in Harper's case on this particular day. Witnesses? "I'm no rat," she returns dryly. "And all you have to do is make it look like he fell off his boat. Pretty simple, really." Despite her words, Harper enjoys the introductions as anyone who appreciates Gina's Gina-ness for what it is.

"I wouldn't know. They have yet to serve me coffee here. All I get is this." He gestures at the whipped cream monstrosity with a hand sheltered in a black kidskin glove. "Unless I yell at them for twenty minutes after which I may get a hazelnut roast if I'm lucky. The day manager doesn't like being told how to make coffee," Ravn grouses in the general direction of the bloke accompanying the librarian. He speaks with an obvious accent -- not quite British BBC, but it no doubt wishes it was.

An upnod to Harper; the librarian and the man in black have met previously, this is obvious. Her companion gets a polite smile, though. "Pleasure. Ravn Abildgaard, stubborn shithead and arrogant newbie in Gina World. If this is a date, I've had better. Although, discussing how to murder me is a new take. Mostly, they just look at their phone and give the barrista the code word for 'call me a cab now, please.'"

Geoff gets up to move over to the table with Harper, putting on a very bored and dry expression as he tells Gina "Are you already cheating on me? I thought we'd agreed to only murdering when the other was present." he brings his hand to his heart, "You hurt me." and with that he takes the proffered seat "I did get shot, it's my first time actually getting shot, hopefully the last as well. It's a pain in the ass." With an idly nod to Ravn he says "Pleasure to meet ya."

"It's not murder if it's assisted suicide." Gina reasons, and takes another sip from her mug. It's starting to get low, and she glances at it before using the mug to gesture at Ravn, "See? He's not even having fun on our super spicy date night." Again, how does Gina manage to make those words sound uninteresting?! Just SAYING 'super spicy date night' is funny! How does she make it sound serious? "He'd be begging for death eventually." To Harper, there's a smirk, "Heard about that. I'm kind of disappointed you weren't the one pulling the trigger. Since it was the husband, it's still acceptable for me." What kind of Gina logic is this?

Harper takes an drink of her syrup-poisoned latte and watches the interchange between Geoff and Gina as if it is in some way reassuring. There are dark circles under her eyes that are far more apparent up close. Something belatedly occurs to her and she reaches over to patpat Ravn's black-clothed knee so lightly she may not have actually touched him at all. "Enjoying the ride?" To Gina, "He had husband's-rights. But let's just say Easton's lucky I've already killed him once." Briefly, Harper's usually-warm brown eyes don't show any warmth at all. She takes another drink of her latte, and that look is replaced with warm interest. She post-scripts, "Geoff will die slowly and painfully by my hand after he gets killed." No. It doesn't make sense.

Ravn reaches out to swipe a few sugar packets from the basket at the centre of the table, glancing at Harper when she touches his knee and offering a small smile. He leans back on his seat and just watches and listens; the stolen sugar packets seeming to wander across the knuckles of his left hand on their own, back and forth, occasionally switching place, in some intricate pattern or loop only they know. It's Gray Harbor. You don't have to be crazy to live here, but, the new boy in town reasons, it probably really, really helps.

Geoff cracks a wry grin "This lets me claim to be an abused spouse for the rest of my life and become a statistic that I can hold over his head for forever." Geoff reasons with a grin before nodding to Gina's reasoning "True, assisted suicide is completely different, I'm sorry I ever doubted you." without missing a beat he sets his hand on the table in a fist except for his outstuck pinky "Let me make ammends." hand still there on the table he looks to Ravn "So when'd you get into town and how are you holding up? I'm guessing you're surviving?"

Gina looks at the outstretched pinky and makes a dismissive gesture, "Not carrying my good knife on me anyway. Don't waste a good pinky on something this small, you need your blood after getting shot." Another sip and she finishes her coffee, and simply reaches to take Ravn's sugar-sprinkle-everything disaster, picking up her spoon again to get all those tasty toppings. "Marshall's on my Do Not Fuck With list in general, but I can make an exception if you're still mad. Always fun to have new targets." A sly little smile directed right at Harper, before her attention glances at Ravn's fingers, then back towards Geoff, "Harper looks more like she's been through some shit. A+ plan to squeeze in the guilt. I wasn't 100-percent sure before, but I kind of like your girlfriend."

Harper is drinking her coffee much faster than anyone else at the table is doing so. Good idea. Give the slightly cracked girl more caffeine. The inside joke between Geoff and Gina about what constitutes a debt and payment curves at the corners of her lips as if they'd drawn on a fond memory. "Well, that's settled. I'm glad Gina doesn't have her good knife today. That pinkie is one my favorite pinkies of yours. Maybe next time there is karaoke -- real karaoke, you can sing the Neon Maniacs song for Gina. She'd appreciate the reference." In payment.

Gina's decision to continue to conquer Ravn's 'drink' doesn't seem to surprise Harper. As for Marshall? "Probably best to keep him on that list, though he does enjoy some fuckwithery. I just don't know if it's your brand." Harper is (blissfully) distracted by Gina's sly smile before she catches herself, draws in a breath and pushes back her chair, standing. She points at Ravn. "Stay, Abildgaard." Likely she didn't mean to sound quite so much like a dog trainer there.

This is when Gina says the last and it stops Harper short on her errand. "A girl can dream." Tracing her fingertips across the back of Geoff's shoulders as she passes by, Harper heads back over to the counter. This time she orders a cappucino (extra cinnamon) for herself to soften the request that follows: a large drip coffee with a cup of whipped cream on the side.

"Think I'm getting into my second month here," Ravn replies. "Didn't think I'd end up staying in town for more than a day or two but -- apparently, Gray Harbor has its own opinions. I'm doing pretty well, all things considered. For one, I wasn't on shift when somebody decided to shoot up the Twofer. I'm guessing you were there, though."

He's a good dog. He stays. Maybe he wasn't going anywhere.

Geoff gives a dismissive wave "It wasn't so much a shooting as there was an accidental firearms discharge, everyone's happy and we got it all sorted, no one is the worse for the wear" says the man with the wounded arm." Retracting his hand and thus pinky offer he leans slightly against the table "I'm pretty sure I'm going to be giving Easton all the shit for that stunt, though it's impressive what he managed to do." Reaching over he takes Harper's hand in his own and tells Ravn entirely cheerfuly "Just remember that the moment you're complacent, you think you got it figured out your life is going to be ruined and your head fucked."

Harper returns -- triumphant -- with three cups. One contains her cappucino and is set down on the table. Another is just an open cup of whipped cream which she slides to the center of the table. The third is a large cup of black, drip coffee. This she nudges over toward Ravn's spot at the table. "Now you owe me, Abildgaard," she murmurs with a small smile that turns to Geoff when he catches up her hand in his. The fact that Ravn is doing well meets with the librarian's approval. He's guessing they were there. "You're guessing correctly."

More of Harper's tension visibly loosens for those watching closely enough to see. Geoff speaks about what Easton managed to do and Harper adds, "I got the impression he'd been through that sort of scenario countless times before with it turning out quite horridly every time." So, maybe there is a titch of sympathy in there for Easton after all, GSW and all. After taking a sip of her cap, Harper nods in agreement to Geoff's advice for Ravn. "You'd be surprised at the variety of ruination there is," she agrees, her gaze sliding to Gina, thoughtful.

"I seem to be doing fine. I don't get hurt. I don't get injured. I don't lose anything. Just, everyone else around me tends to end up injured or in trouble. So, maybe don't sit too close, I'm apparently very good at being bad luck." Ravn wears a small lopsided smile but there's a hint of steel in his tone; it's not quite a joke, or at least it's one of those jokes with a core of steel. "But then, I have thirty years' worth of experience at screwing up everyone else around me, so it's pretty much business as usual on my end."

Optimist, isn't he.

"Anyhow, it seems like you know more about what went down at the Two if By Sea than I do. I have yet to meet Marshall, but I imagine I will once the place re-opens." The copper blond hitches one shoulder lightly -- not that doing so disturbs the ballet of the sugar packets dancing on the back of his left hand. Reaching up to receive the cup of genuine black lifeblood with his right hand does not seem to disturb those sugar packets either. "In the meantime, catching up on my reading, dodging the press, you know, the usual. Thank you so much. I really do owe you one, Miss Price."

Geoff nods along as Ravn speaks "See, and that's exactly how you end up getting ruined out there, but you'll learn probably." Geoff says as if entirely unsure of the prospect. Giving Harper's hand a light squeeze he says "Oh did you help him out? Did you give him good advice on how to get through things, the special eldritch librarian advice you have to call the hotline for?"

Gina totally takes the same spoon she's been enjoying the sugary toppings of and dips it into the communal whipped cream-- hope no one is scared of germs here-- before stirring a bit more whipped cream into the drink she's scavenged. Those dark eyes never quite give away what she notices of people, or reacts to people looking at her, either. Not often, anyway. Her gaze does slide towards Ravn, however-- "Hook two." She says, apropos of-- something, but she's not clarifying, as she instead sighs following Geoff's words. "Some days I feel like doing one of those fucking PSA videos for people to watch like they did in the 50s. "Congratulations, welcome to Fuckery City, Here's What You Need to Know." and just shutting them in a dark room until they've finished watching it." Gina says, without wistfulness, but with a sincere bit of regret. "PSAs actually weren't too bad for Dreams, honestly. They're predictable."

Points to Ravn for using 'Miss'. Most people get that one wrong. After Geoff squeezes her hand, Harper simply settles for rubbing her thumb lightly over the inside of his wrist. It helps. A little. And it's not sickeningly demonstrative. "We talked about things a bit," she agrees in terms of the interactions she and Ravn have had at the library. "I don't know if I gave him any useful advice. But if he's all in one piece, I'll take the credit. I did learn, however, that he's a culinary genius trying to hide from his adoring fans." Harper doesn't quite pull of a dry enough tone to be taken seriously. She flickers a glance to the deft sugar packet locomotion. "Not everyone gets to the eldritch level, Turner," she murmurs as if in reminder. "It takes dedication. And checking out a crazy number of books. Not to mention book club." Gina's statement about 50's PSAs earns the response, "So we should just be telling people they'll be safe under their desks." From nuclear annihilation. Harper's brown eyes brighten ever so slightly as the woman commandeers the whipped cream.

"At some point I am going to offer to cook. The death toll ought to convince anyone I'm not a bloody chef." Ravn curls the fingers of his right and around the coffee mug and sips its contents with obvious pleasure while his left just goes on doing whatever the heck it is he's doing with those sugar packets. Then he shakes his head. "I don't do -- eldritch. Or other things people around here do. Ever need someone to do card tricks at the Veil creatures, though, I'm definitely your man."

Geoff cracks a grin "You know that'd work, a psa with a catchy little song to go with it. Or we could chuck the kids into dreams throughout the day until they grow to treat them with respect and a hint of fear." With a smile towards Harper he tells her "Well I guess I should consider myself lucky to have access to the eldritch level and the secret book repository." leaning over he mentions as an aside to Ravn "You can even find Meatloaf's real name there." leaning back in his seat he hooks an arm over the back "All this talk of cooking has me hungry, what's the chef got cooking today Gina?"

"I don't really do eldritch either. I'm pretty rusty." And Gina actually sounds slightly amused-- slightly pleased about that, lips even curling slightly into a smile. Her eyes are still their usual - as one person has called them - shark eyes, however. "It's not always about powers. It's about power." Gina just tosses that out before glancing towards Harper, "It might actually work in a Dream, if the little shits are dumb enough. But Harp's got a point. Not everyone gets targeted at the high stakes level. Birdboy's a soft ping, no history. He might be relatively fine." Relatively. Towards Geoff, she shrugs, "Fuck if I know. I did tell them to make me chorizo chili today, so there should be a pot of that somewhere." Because as Boss, Gina can just... tell the chefs that.

Ravn is going to commit murder via food service, and Geoff and Gina are going to start a community PSA program for the good of the children. To Ravn, "I don't think I've ever known someone who could see it and experience it who didn't have some of it in them to access. That's interesting." Then Gina's getting philosophical about power; Harper finishes a swallow of her drink to arch a brow. It might be considered odd how seriously the librarian takes some of what Gina says given how often Gina is playing the people around her on her own (very sardonic) chess board. She side-glances at Ravn, "Let's hope so." Geoff's commentary about his 'eldritch' level club member status drags quiet laughter from Harper that drifts off with an affectionate-accusing look at the man. Geoff's query sends Harper's attention back to Gina.

"Like Gina says. I'm a soft ping." Ravn doesn't seem bothered by this; it's just fact. "I don't really do anything useful. Can steal your wallet but I'd find it easier to do so with my hands than with -- you know." He raises his hand over the basket at the centre of the table and allows the three sugar packets to dance back where they belong. "Used to do sleight of hand for bus fare, that sort of thing. Now I wash tables at the Twofer. Who knows what I'll be doing next week."

Geoff doesn't need to think twice, and calls over to the waitress by the cash register "Hey Jenny." is Jenny her name? It's academic as she looks up and makes eye contact with the man "Could I get a bowl of the chorizo chili?" This accompanied by a smile and a thumbs up as if that is what encourages services around here. With a light gesture he confirms "It is about power, you can have the ability to cut a squad car in half but if you don't have the will to use it, you ain't got shit. What matters is results and your ability to get what you want and not let anything interfere with it. Most of the time that tends to be surviving." he gives an offhanded gesture "But if you're a lightweight then maybe you won't be battling sharks or putting down a riot aimed at you."

Lucky for Geoff Jenny works over at the diner, and is just as apathetic here as she is there. So with a wave of a twenty dollar bill and a sigh Jenny pushes away from the counter, takes the twenty and then heads out the door to go on a pick up run for that chili. Overall Geoff doesn't seem to think twice about this and keeps his attention on the table once the bill is passed off.

Harper mildly double-takes as Geoff makes demands of the woman who has the misfortune of working at both places. When Jenny takes the twenty and heads out, the librarian lifts a hand to press the back of it lightly against his forehead as if testing for a fever. "I'm going to chalk that up to narcotics," she tells Geoff with a shake of her head. Ravn is a soft ping. "I'll bet you've got some untapped skills hiding somewhere in there." She sways a finger pointing at him back and forth to indicated his person. She shakes her head slowly, "He gets shot and suddenly the town is full-service, twenty-four-seven." Her own words slow and then she says simply, "I have happy pills in my purse." Because apparently Harper would rather keep Geoff high than risk him feeling the pain of the healing wound. It's very shaky logic. Best not to ask.

Jenny does, of course, also make eye contact with Gina, who makes a little shooing wave. After all, chorizo chili isn't on the menu - though regular chili is. Luckily, Geoff is a known regular who has a 50/50 chance of being allowed to order from the special insider menu (Sometimes, Gina doesn't want to share). "Mind, too. Knowing when to play by the rules or break them, kind of important in the Dreams." Gina adds, offhand. "I've met a few like birdboy. Power so low they don't even access it outside. No feel for it. They'll get one eventually. Or one of the awkward-ass rude fuckers does a bodyscan and tells him what areas his shit lies in." Gina's dislike of said bodyscan? Comes through loud and clear. To Harper, Gina gives a small smirk. "She had a crush on Gee till she found out we're friends and he was either gay, taken, or both. Now she's nice to him because there's a manager position opening. Part to full time depending on how I feel when I do interviews." Because that's how GIna runs her business.

"What I want is to largely mind my own business, read good books, and take the occasional trip out a day or two on my boat." Ravn hitches a shoulder lightly and sips his coffee. "What I get seems to be zombie hordes, undead riders with broadswords, Aztec fertility goddesses, and Cthulhu. Still beats teaching. Then again, anything probably beats teaching."

Harper doesn't miss the to-and-fro between Gina and Jenny. She has first hand knowledge of Geoff's ability to access off-menu items at the diner, even when Gina is not in residence. The woman's specificity about what power or skill or knowledge one might acquire about Dream or Veil alike is met an intrigued, slow nodding from Harper. Bodyscan. It might be that that was the word that caused a shiver to run down Harper's back. She learns from Gina about Jenny's crush and lifts both hands in a what can you do sort of motion. "I came to the conclusion long ago that very few single-and-looking women and men in Geoff's demographic haven't had a crush at one time or another. It's just the way things are." Back to her drink which is being savored a bit more than her first one, Harper turns to look at Ravn as he states what he wants. "Maybe you should consider writing. 'What you get' would sell."

Gina nods towards Harper, completely agreeing with the woman's statement about Geoff's romantic prowess. Her introduction wasn't off in the slightest! "Jen's up for management because she puts her own success over her crush, and I can get behind that. She'd sell Geoff out in a heartbeat." Gina sounds... mildly approving of this, which just goes to show...something, don't think about it too hard. Her attention just flicks towards Ravn, "You can have that. It's what I do-- run my diner, play with my cats, work on my collections at home, take walks-- the zombie hordes and fertility goddesses and shit are just interruptions. You'll get experienced enough you can handle this shit efficiently, or you'll die on one of them and you won't be worried about anything. Just think of it like living in California, on a fault line. Some days the city gets fucked, but it's still gonna be up." She points out. Being... notably nice. All that sugar must've sweetened her mood.

"I'm not a fiction writer. And, er, no offence, but I think I'll skip on the 'crush on Geoff' thing too. Unless you clean up in a dress really, really well. In which case, uh, don't call me, I'll call you." Ravn can't help a small chuckle. "Sorry. It's just, the bloody papers have paired me up with four different people in five weeks, out of whom two have been men. I'm straight as a ruler, it's a little -- unsettling. Though, probably worse for the other four -- not a one of them is actually, you know, single."

Gina's little rant prompts another shrug. "Eh, just said I don't want it. But I get it, and yeah, probably going to find out some day that zombies run faster than a guy with asthma. What can you do? It's how it is. Some people are powerful and do all sorts of things, some people wear red shirts."

Geoff looks to Harper and asks "How come we never get the aztec fertility goddesses? That doesn't sound half bad." a playful quirk pulling at the corner of his lips before glancing back to Gina "I'm pretty sure you fill your diner with those sorts who know what's up and are survivors. It'd suck be surrounded by the incompetent in this town, especially when you are a magnet for trouble, who knows when you're going to pull one of your employees in."

Harper takes both Gina's agreement and her cut-throat statement with the same, seemingly-sincere level of acceptance. And then Gina lays out some world-view shit like she's Morgan Freeman in just about any movie Morgan Freeman has been in and all Harper has to add is a smile. Ravn wants out of the crush-on-Geoff demographic? "Oh, Ravn, no. His demographic. If you're straight, then you're probably immune to the wiles." Probably.

Harper's brown eyes finally regain the sparkle they've been lacking for longer than the time spent in the coffee joint. She learns more than she intended to learn about Ravn's sexual orientation. Then there are the romantic rumors. "Those can be incredibly bothersome. I'm sorry, Ravn. If you need someone to believe you, come find me. I think I've been immune to most of the crazy talk. I don't know why, and I suppose I don't really know if that's true because I'd believe the mis-information, but ..." Hands are lifted again before Harper reaches for what remains of her cap.

And just so you know, it's not always about outrunning them. Sometimes it's about singing to them or pointing out their socks don't match." She's not joking.

Geoff's query lights up Harper's eyes and her laughter once again. "I don't think it's what you think it is. But, given the option, sure. What's the worst that could happen? Human sacrifice?" Geoff's commentary to Gina leaves Harper as fascinated as when it's other way around.

"Except the diner, I don't think the weird rumors include me." Gina notes, pushing aside the half-drunk overly-sweet drink and instead grabbing the whipped cream, spooning some of the coffee on top of it, and just focusing on that now. What kind of diet does Gina even /have/? "But I don't think the rumors about me have upgraded since high school, so it's whatever." She leans back in her seat, one knee rising until it drapes on the armrest of her chair, Gina tilting herself to be more comfortable. Just-- making herself at home. "I don't collect them. If I've got more it's because waitressing sucks balls but at least I'm not telling them to fully rim someone's ass just so they get a tip like everybody else demands." Gina's low opinion of the customer service industry, revealed! Again. Like it wasn't always on display.

"Watching someone chop a goddess to bits wasn't really my idea of hot. Chopping or stabbing things does seem to be a recurring theme," Ravn says. Geoff gets a bit of an odd look and he adds, "Heard four or five people got sacrificed to Babylonian gods in the last three weeks, and that had nothing to do with the Veil. Just some jackass from Spokane losing his last marbles and deciding to go Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom on new people in town. Human sacrifice seems pretty par for the course here, too."

He puts his cup down and gets up. "Sorry, I've got no right to take my bad mood out on other people. Just sick and tired of watching other people get hurt because I can't pull my weight. Got a bottle of bourbon with my name on and a cat who doesn't mind me bitching in her general direction. See you all around."

Geoff shakes his head "Gina we have to get you some better rumors going about you, maybe that you fill your dolls with souls, or maybe spiders. Soul spiders." he shrugs, it's going to need some workshopping "Gina has it right, you've got to learn to adapt. Also you've got to learn to compartmentalize aand put others aside. The question you have to ask yourself is did anyone you care about get hurt? If not, fuck those guys, sucks to be them but you couldn't do anything and they weren't strong enough to survive." he gestures "Dreams are dreams, pull yourself out of it and do what needs to be done, whether it is killing goddesses or mulching co-eds, you've got to see it through to the end. Or I guess you can give up and die, or remain stuck in the dream, either way doesn't seem so appealing."

Gina reveals the already revealed, but in a new way that continues to interest Harper. The posture and the food choices are par for the course. Ravn's response knits a frown across Harper's brows that leans more toward sympathy than disagreement. "Come visit me at the library, Ravn," she calls after him. Because books solve all problems.

To Gina and Geoff, "It's got to be harder on people who didn't grow up here. That, and we're so desensitized to ... everything that it's just absurdist more days than it's not." Compartmentalize. Geoff's choice of words is much better than Harper's. Both because he's Geoff and because she's working at about sixty percent just now. The frown eases and she considers soul-spiders and Gina's dolls. "Seems about right."

"Folks do keep telling me that there are selfish pieces of shit in this town who will absolutely grab someone else and use them as a meat shield. I just thought folks were pulling my leg." Ravn shakes his head, and heads out. The expression on his face might very well be described as 'not at all impressed.'

Gina's gaze follows Ravn out, and only when he's half out the door does she give a casual, "Cute, isn't he." In that ambiguous tone where she could actually be serious or mocking him for his morals. Or both. It's hard to tell. Her gaze slides towards Geoff, "If he's lucky, that chip will stay on his shoulder. Hate it when people are nice to the newcomers. Makes them think we're normal-ish people for a hot minute before they learn better." Gina has another spoonful of whipped cream, before adding casually, "I'm redoing some of the dollhouse rooms. I want to make a more modern space for some of them. Trying to put in a movie room."

Geoff seems amused by the man's pronouncement and fixes him with a shit eating grin as if daring him to swing on him till he's out the door "He is cute, he still thinks he can stay here and keep his hands clean and care that dreams got butchered." he rubs at his chin thoughtfully "I don't remember saying to use anyone as meat shields though, guess it is a situational thing." looking between the girls he says "If we get the apocalypse, I'm throwing him out of the shelter and not wasting food there." --meatshield--

"More fun to make him leader and see how he'd handle it." Gina points out mildly, one corner of her lips lifting in dark amusement. "Nothing cures you of idealism faster than being responsible for shit." A small shrug, "But I guess it all depends. I'd probably use somebody as a shield if I was pushed, though." No hesitation in saying that. "But I try to avoid killing other people. Better chances in a target-rich environment."