2020-10-04 - Three Nerds Enter

(TXT to Cecil Abitha) Alexander : Drinks. We should go get drinks. Cecil, you've met (...) Mac, right?

(TXT to Abitha Alexander) Cecil : I could get drinks.

(TXT to Alexander Cecil) Abitha : I'm down. Pourhouse? 😃

(TXT to Abitha Alexander) Cecil : All right.

(TXT to Abitha Cecil) Alexander : Last time I went, they tried to kill me. But it'll probably be fine. Meet you there?

(TXT to Alexander Cecil) Abitha : Sure thing, lemme just set Moscow to raze. Catherine has been a flagrant bitch.

(TXT to Cecil Abitha) Alexander : But think of the innocent pixels people. 🙁

(TXT to Abitha Alexander) Cecil : Sooooo Pourhouse. On my way.

No one would call the Pour/Poorhouse anything like 'trendy' - it's the watering hole of the millworkers and the dockworkers, and it shows. There are a couple of TVs on, but they're muted, and mostly the sound inside is the steady clink of bottle and mug against table, along with enclaves of rough laughter and the occasional, muttered conversation. The more generally sociable of the locals hold sway at the bar, and there's a group of them talking with the bartender as they drink their paychecks. Most of the other tables and booths only have one or two people at them, and these people are quiet, eyes locked on their booze, or staring blankly into the middle distance as they try to figure out how to pay for their bills and their vices in the same month.

Visually, Alexander fits in pretty well with these folk. He's dressed in a loose, long-sleeved plaid lumberjack's shirt, and faded jeans, with big stompy workboots that would be fine at any table here. In body language, though, he stands out. He slinks across the shadowy floor to claim a booth for Cecil and Abitha and himself, keeping his head down, like he expects someone to throw a bottle at it. It's a mystery why, though, considering that the only people who take notice of him seem pleased to see him. One even waves to catch his eye and mutters something under her breath with a grateful smile. He stares, blankly, then jerks his head in a quick nod before moving on, bewildered.

Alexander may fit in for appearances, but to some, Abitha would seem not. Counter to this, she doesn't get harried or even a second look, save for the new hair. She was a regular, her store burned down across the street, and most of the clientele had seen or heard about it. Plus, a former cheerleader was just as common as a former football player around here. She may as well be family. Hell, she was best friends with the owner. Dressed comfortably in a gray V-neck, jeans and a loose plaid shirt, her new emerald hair just seems to set the whole appearance off. It was a striking color, to be sure. She slides into the booth with a quiet wave to Alexander, "Look, the writing was on the wall when the Glorious Empire showed up on their borders after our trade deal went south. No mercy."

An arm is raised to call one of Maggi's bartenders over, Chelsea, she thought she remembered the name, asking for a menu, or just if there were any new fall sours, and ordering that.

Cecil has lived in Gray Harbor long enough he's finally acquired a flannel shirt, and he wears it over a gray t-shirt tucked into jeans. It does help him blend in, though those coke-bottle glasses aren't doing him any favors. He'd be cute if he just... well, that's the constant struggle with Cecil. There are a lot of ways he would be cute if he just...

He smiles thinly at Abitha and Alexander as he slides into the booth. "Hello," he says. "I've never been here before, but I've always meant to come check it out." He looks around. "It's very... local."

Chelsea looks a little blank at the mention of a menu, but they DO exist, and so she wanders off to get one, and comes back with it; there's a sheet attached that includes the seasonals. She takes the order with a nod, and then Alexander's order - a very boring and cheap beer, along with some onion rings - with another nod. Alexander brightens visibly when Abitha and Cecil arrive, although he does greet the former with, "Your hair is green. Voluntarily, I hope?" There's a brief chuckle at Cecil. "Yeah. That's a way to put it. I would have suggested the Two If By Sea, but the place got sort of shot up when Easton came back, so I think they're closed for repairs. But I thought we should celebrate."

"I lost a bet with a dryad. She demanded we trade hair." Abitha delivers her quip in a flat voice, holding the sarcasm for a long moment before betraying herself with a slight smirk. She looks to Cecil, "This is my regular bar." She points out the window to the notable hole in the scenery, "My shop used to be over there." Instead, she makes a point somewhere down the street now, "New one's gonna be down there, so I don't have to switch." She grins at this idea. "I'm Mac by the way." She waves, not offering a hand, which is not unheard of around here. She turns on Alexander.

"So Easton's back, eh? Oh and grats on the collar! I heard that went..." She heard it went. That's about the length of it.

Cecil waves a little and says, "Cecil. I usually drink at Two If By Sea, but I suppose I'll be coming here for awhile. Dare I ask who Easton is?" He's got a rather polite English accent. He takes a look at a menu, perusing it perhaps a little more than is strictly necessary to make a selection. "Which in partiuclar are we celebrating?"

"Oh," Alexander says, nodding to the explanation. "Don't drink their sap, if they offer you any. Apparently it makes for a very good drug." Then he catches on to the smirk, and coughs. "Oh. You were kidding. Sorry. But it looks nice." The drinks for Abitha and Alexander arrive, and Chelsea waits for Cecil's selection, 'oohing' a little at his accent. Eyelashes might be fluttered, but in the dark, it's hard to tell.

"Easton is a former summer person. Bought a bar here - the one you drink at. He's a good guy. Loud, boisterous, likes guns a lot. But solid. He got Lost," the capital letter is easy to distinguish, "for a long time. We thought he was dead. I thought he was dead. I don't know if Bennie ever did. But he came back." Then a grin. "And we're celebrating the fact that we solved murders! Even if the murderer did vanish into thin air. We still solved it." He looks to Abitha. "Cecil is in forensics. He knows a lot about dead bodies. And bugs." Then to Cecil, "She's both a computer wizard and a gaming wizard, and currently robbing me of my right to dominion in a game of Civilization."

There's a snicker at the joke about the sap, figuring it was a game reference and appreciating him following the joke. She nods her head with the faintest color to her cheeks when she's complimented, "Thank you, Alexander." She tucked into her sour happily, turning her attention on Cecil, "Oh, really? I've been doing some time down at the precinct too, I wonder why we haven't met. I'm doing data analysis..." She pauses, squints, "You don't keep a bunch of caged bugs like in CSI, do you?" Then her attention is stolen again,

"Wait, he what?"

Cecil smiles at Chelsea amiably and asks her for a pint of stout. Then he glances between Alexander and Abitha. To the former, he says, "He disappeared? Bugger. It really hurts my numbers when there's no one to take to trial. Ah, well. That's the DA's problem." He then nods to Abitha and says, "I've heard your name around the prcinct. I spend most of my time in the lab looking at bugs, but you've probably seen some of my data." He then adds, wryly, "No, I don't keep caged bugs."

"You should, though," Alexander puts in about the caged bugs matter, enthusiastically. "I'd be very interested in seeing examples of the local carrion eating insects all in the same place, at different life stages. Textbook photos are one thing, but it's always easier to understand once you've seen living examples." He grabs an onion ring, then pushes the basket to the center of the table, marking them communal. He bobs his head towards Abitha, takes a bite, then says, "Disappeared. I mean, most people just think he got transferred into the FBI's custody - so it probably won't hurt your numbers, Cecil. But he disappeared." He takes another bite. "There used to be a place, Over There, where people who stood out were put. I think some of them were put there because they were very dangerous. Run by a g--um, a thing called The Doctor. Maybe he ended up there."

"He should not." Abitha is quick to counter, fixing Alexander with a look of horror and seriousness all wrapped up in one. "That's gross, and probably unsanitary." That said, the onion rings remain untouched, what with the mental imagery.

"Wait, so should we be worried he'll come back or..." she looks suitably confused as to Alexander's revelations.

"The bugs aren't all that unsanitary if they're raised in the lab," Cecil says, "but they do require upkeep and care, and if I keep them in the lab, that means I have to go in every day, no matter what, and if I keep them at home, that means the cats will be tempted to knock over the enclosure and eat them. I've been tempted to keep a giant centipede, because I think they're great, but we run into the cat issue again." He helps himself to an onion ring and munches. "Mm, so he might be incarcerated on the Other Side? It's hardly worth thinking about, is it? I'd say that's punishment enough."

Alexander counters the counter with an offended look. "It's no more unsanitary or gross than a zoo, you know. No one's suggesting letting them crawl all over the station." Nevermind that no one but him is even suggesting that Cecil have them at all. He heaves a sigh at the scientist's answer. "I suppose that makes sense," he concedes with a grudging bite of his onion ring. Once he's eaten that, he shrugs. "Maybe he'll come back. Maybe not. Either way - I've never had any luck tracking something once it's gone Over There, and I can't open doors there anyway, so I figure it's...out of my hands at this point. If he comes back, we'll deal with it." He frowns. "Poor bastard."

There's a clearing of his throat. "But. That's only the point in that we did good. He's not killing people anymore, and that's the point. So. Congratulations to us! And we should solve more murders."

"To us." Abitha agrees, raising her beerglass to toast carefully, but still giving Alexander and Cecil a squint about the bugs. "No idea how I keep getting pulled into this stuff, but we did it." She takes a sip of her drink and sighs, "Here's hoping we can boot this Reyes dude and crew out so I can just go back to my shop." A thought does occur to her, "Did they find the Japanese kid? I hadn't heard."

Cecil raises his glass. "To us. And let's solve all the murders." He takes a hearty swallow of beer, then sighs with contentment, because beer. "We found him, yeah. The killer did a number on his mind. He was brainwashed and mad as a hatter. He's alive, though, and with help, he might recover." He shakes his head. "It's all craziness." He takes another drink, then asks, "Have they made any progress on the Reyes case? Anything we can bring up against him?"

Alexander also raises his glass, with a sudden, bright grin. "You keep getting pulled in because, secretly, you're enjoying yourself," he tells Abitha cheerfully. Then pauses. "I...hope. Anyway. Not the getting-your-home-destroyed part. Not that part. But solving mysteries is fun, right?" He takes a quick pull from his beer bottle, and winces at Cecil's words. "Contagious psychosis. Unfortunate. It usually does get better, as long as you're not around people who feed it." Still, it knocks the shine right off his smile. He shrugs to Cecil. "Not that I know of. Javier won't talk about it to me, for various reasons. I heard they set a couple of trailers at the park on fire." He sighs. "But other than that, laying low. Which might be a good time to hit back. I've got a name, and I sent some...uh, stuff to the cops, but I don't think they've had luck tracking the guy down."

"Unfortunately," an onion ring is finally snagged from the basket, broken in half, touched to ranch, a small bite taken. "...being a gamer means I like solving puzzles, so..." It's a begrudged sigh and grin to Alexander as she's forced to admit, "...a little." Listening to the other exchange is sobering, but she pitches in her bits of it, "I don't think I have any information from my digital digging that others don't have already, when I passed it along. They aren't a very digital crew." She points to Alexander with her bit of onion ring, though, "That said, Lilith brought me that console. I found our forum troll. Well... Our different forum troll, anyways. Waiting on Esme to do her bit about it."

"I remember hearing about the fire, but I wasn't on the team they sent in to gather evidence," Cecil says. "I'm more useful in a murder. Fire pattern analysis isn't my forte. Give me blow flies and blood spatter any day." He pauses, then adds, "Er, in a professional capacity. In any case, after I ended up in the torture crate, I haven't been their foremost forensics guy."

"Forum troll?" Alexander perks up at Abitha. "And I'd guess most transactions around here are cash only, yeah. Although maybe that...uh, bitcoin stuff?" He flaps a hand, revealing a painful gap in his modern computing knowledge, before he reaches for another onion ring. Then stops, ring halfway to his mouth. He eyes Cecil. "...torture crate? What?"

There's a smirk when Alexander mentions bitcoins. It always comes back to questions about bitcoins from the normal user to the power users of the internet, still she answers, "Yeah, the one that talked shit about Wilkerson after she took Hallisey in. Big to-do. People take it serious when you make threats on the internet against police officers." Her eyes are slowly dragged toward Cecil as well though at the mention of a torture crate. Chomp, chew, sip.

Cecil glances between the pair of them. "Oh, before all this Cuniform Killer stuff, I was at the Harbor trying to collect evidence at the crates down there, and I found the one I was looking for, but these thugs came, took my camera and threw me in the crate, locked it. There was a light bulb hanging from the ceiling, and it was filled with mattresses and had a chair, and there were blood stains. Then I listened to them talk about how they were going to tell Reyes, and how they would kill me." He shakes his head. "If it hadn't been for the chief, I'd be dead."

"Huh," Alexander says, about the troll. "I guess this was on Friendbook? I don't, um, go on very much. Have they tracked the guy down to his real address? Maybe he knows something other than how to be an ass online." But then Cecil goes on, and he just listens, taking a couple of bites of his onion ring. "That...that...wow. Even for Gray Harbor, that's fucked up. Cecil, are you okay? You're obviously not dead, but..." A shake of his head. "That's fucking terrible. I'm glad Javier got you out." Although something about that seems to make a momentary darkening of his features. "They can't be permitted to just hurt and kill people like this."

Abitha was wholey in agreement with that sentiment, looking grim, even a little frustrated. "Yeah, shit's getting ridiculous, like... it seemed like people who were directly involved with crime were the only problem, then my shop, then ther've been kidnappings? We still don't know shit about the dude with the statues. Like, I read that knife, but... How the fuck did he do that? Why the fuck..." She puffs out a breath, "I dunno if I can take just sitting around looking on the internet." She waves at Cecil, "We can't keep letting stuff like this happen."

"I mean, on one hand, I was directly trying to thwart their plans," Cecil says, "so I understand there's risk inherent with the work. But nothing like that has ever happened before. I ended up moving in with a friend, because I couldn't sleep in an empty flat." He shivers a little. "I'm a labby. I don't have what it takes to be a cop and put myself in the line of fire on purpose. But it is ridiculous." He takes another onion ring from the basket. "Used to be a time the criminal element kept colateral damage to a minimum. It's bad for business."

"My guess would be that the statues were just...a good coincidence. Nothing I've seen or heard from these guys suggest they really know what to do with their abilities. Maybe their leader does. Id dunno." Alexander shrugs. "But I bet it was taking advantage of an opportunity, rather than a plan, per se." He gives Cecil a side eye. "You're alive, though. That usually means you didn't do anything too stupid, so you're probably better under pressure than you think you are." He takes a drink, then contemplates the mouth of his beer bottle. "The name I got is a guy called Daryl du Bois. He's a small-time local, middle man, bookie, that sort of thing. But he seems to have signed on with these guys. He might know some useful information, if he could be brought in. Or just hurt their operation."

Abitha points to Cecil in an agreement to his assertion of being a labby at the same time she was taking a deeper sip of her sour. A non-combatant was something she'd prefer to stay herself, which may have been why she didn't show up to the final confrontation with the Cuniform killer... Or maybe it was just because her hair was orange and she didn't want to be seen. To Alexander: "Yeah, you told me that name and I looked into him. I think Wilkerson is going to take a run at him, 'cuz she pulled his address..." Another onion ring is procured, broken in half, carefully eaten. "He's got feelers out, looking for people to hire, but I have no idea what to do about that. Like... Obviously, I'm involved, and into police stuff, and not an actress... And sending someone else just seems dangerous." She motions for a second sour to Chelsea, catching the blonde's eye before returning her attention to the two men.

"Dangerous," Cecil agrees, "but there are people who make their living undercover, and they've got better skills than I do." He grins at Alexander, "Even if I don't buckle under pressure. Honestly, I got lucky. I contacted the chief mind-to-mind. He said hold tight and that he was on his way. It's a funny thing, when you're powerless and the only thing you can do is let time pass. I find a certain sort of zen in it."

"It would be," Alexander says. "Dangerous, I mean. I don't know that I'd recommend anyone go undercover, either. I mean, it's a small town, and even the criminals mostly know one another. This new organization isn't local, but it's courting people who are." He grimaces. "Although - I mean, you could probably get a meet with the guy, and the cops could show up instead and grab him. If you can find ones who aren't corrupt and keep it off the airwaves." He goes quiet as Chelsea comes over with another sour, and just placidly eats his onion rings and eyes Cecil. "Yeah. Acceptance in the face of nothing else to do can be pretty powerful. Oddly enough. But I'm not suggesting that we jump feet first into a gang war, or anything. I've already been shot once and had the crap kicked out of me once looking into this shit, I don't really need more ways to die. But I liked working with you both. That's all."

"I mean like..." she trades looks with Alexander, before meeting eyes with Cecil, "I can do that too, so... If you ever need help and the others are occupied..." Abitha doesn't exactly look Alexander in the eye as she makes her next suggestion. She tries to seem real casual as she proposes, "I mean, they wanna use their powers when it suits em, like blowing up that console... Or doing the calling thing..." She makes a show of eating the rest of her onion ring and paying attention to the new sour, "Could just open a hole and dump the dude on the other side of it. Call it a day." The way she was acting, she might already know she was going to earn dissaproval of the idea, much like her idea to arrange a meeting that the Cuniform Killer might have attended, but in her mind, it was no different than the fate of that wacko, as Alexander would tell it.

Cecil nods to Abitha solemnly. "Thank you," he says, "the same goes, if either of you need help from me, I will 'pick up' as it were." He tells Alexander, "I liked working with you too, both of you." He takes a drink of his beer. "Of course I would ideally love to build a case the DA can prosecute successfully. That's always the goal." He pauses, then says, "However, the United States legal system isn't exactly qualified to handle certain offenders. We can't always prove what we know to be the truth. In a world that isn't ideal, perhaps those who use their powers against the powerless ought to find justice in a way that will stick." He glances around, as if his work colleagues might show up at any moment and shame him. For shame!

"No." Right on cue, Alexander just shuts that all the way down. He doesn't look angry about it, or shocked, but he does look intractable. "First, that's murder. Second, it might not stick. At least one guy who's died over there ended up being resurrected as an -ist - a sort of...mini-boss," to put it in gamer terms, "and if the others are anything to go by, had some sort of magic powers. Maybe we dump the guy on the other side, and he dies. Sure. But maybe one of the -ors finds him, and decides to make something of him, and now we've got a really superpowered asshole with the ability to change reality who has a personal grudge against all three of us." He takes a drink. "Third, he can't answer questions or turn state's evidence if he's dead."

It probably wasn’t the first or last time that Abitha sighed and looked disappointed she couldn’t just solve a problem by their aether-given voodoo powers. She looks apologetically up at Alexander from her beer-hunched posture, even if he didn’t seem angry. She does cock her emerald-locked head, though, “Was one of those people that lady everyone seemed so afraid of in the FCN factory? I’ve been meaning to ask about that madness for awhile, but I was a little concussed at the time.” She shrugs, “Weird’s gonna weird, I guess...” She does turn an eye on Cecil, “Did... you find anything to read in that torture crate? Like residue?”

Cecil's eyes widen. "I didn't mean to kill anyone. I admit, I don't really know what it's like Over There. I was thinking it would be something more like banishment. If it's really that deadly, then no, that won't do at all. I mean, I lived in Texas but it didn't affect me that much. Maybe it would be better, when we have answers but no evidence, to work backwards to find the evidence after the fact." To Abitha, he says, "I read pain and terror. Someone had been worked over pretty badly recently."

Alexander nods to Abitha. "Yeah. That was the...Vivisectionist? I think that's the one. She was under," he shivers, "The Doctor. Who is apparently the source of all the healing abilities, if the Revisionist was correct. And The Collector for physical abilities, and The Director for mental abilities. But take that with a grain of salt, because things over there are...weird. As always." He shrugs, then makes the so-so gesture at Cecil. "It's hard to say? Every time I've gone over there, I've either almost died, or gone to the Veil City Hall. Which is probably very dangerous if you don't make an appointment. But some people have had good, even wonderful, experiences. Itzhak saw a unicorn."

He hesitates, as if unwilling to speak more about unicorns in the middle of talk of torture and crime.

Abitha was most of the way through her second sour, contemplationg the rim of the glass, slowly turning it in her hands. An edge of her lips was quirked into a thoughtful pinch. After a moment more of thought, she shakes her verdant head, picking up on this rather morose mood, when Alexander had tried to get them out for celebratory drinks...

“Alright, we’re talkin about a bunch of heavy shit. Stuff we don’t really have a lot to go on, and probably won’t be making any headway on while drinking... so...” She looks between both of them, “Nerd questions. Well... opinions, anyways... Should I add board games and CCG’s to my shop inventories? Pros/cons? Big Con, sweaty neck beards, so no Friday Night Magic.”

"I've been there so few times," Cecil admits, "and I'm not eager to go back." He finishes his stout, then gestures for another. Keep them coming for the skinny British man. "I like board games," he says. "And if I'm not wrong, they're quite popular. The sweaty neck beard factor is something to consider, but you could make Friday Night Magic invite only and not invite them."

"I also like board games," Alexander says. His own bottle is only half-empty. He takes occasional swallows from it, but they're more like sips. "You're more likely to have lots of bored school kids here than the sweaty neckbeards, I think. Could be wrong. Sweaty neckbeards do tend to grow in all sorts of soil. And I understand that CCGs, at least, are significant profit margins for a shop. Where other games sometimes aren't. So," he smiles, "have them. And then just kick the neckbeards out if they're a problem."

“Yeahhhh,” It’s a long syllable, a resignation. They were both talking sense, “I haven’t told many people but... my stream has been suffering... Like, hemorrhaging subs. I don’t think it’s gonna be profitable for me in a few months, so, I gotta figure out where to make more. Brick and mortar video game stores are hard enough, gotta diversify. I can already do computer and system repair, and sell commissions that way, but CCG’s and regular competitive nights are consistent revenue streams...” She sighs and finishes her sour, fidgeting with the empty glass. “Thankfully, since the comic shop already did that, and I’m taking over the space I should be able to. It’s gonna be a trip into the wild blue yonder...”

"Neck beards do tend to thrive in just about every environment," Cecil says ruefully. "Though I suppose you can kick them out if they're not appropriately bathed or are making other costomers uncomfortable. The key is to make the environment unfriendly to them. Maybe play music by female artists if you play music in your store, host 'girls in gaming' nights. It's my understanding that positivity toward women is like their Round-Up. Maybe just the fact they'd have to talk to you if they want to buy something will scare them away," he offers to Abitha. He smiles wryly. "My sister is big into gaming. I've watched second-hand the trials and tribulations."

"Sorry about your stream," Alexander says, with a sympathetic grimace towards Abitha. "But I think a game store would thrive here if it stretched out." He pauses as Cecil chimes in, and laughs. "Yeah. That too. Make it inclusive, and a lot of the assholes will burn like vampires under sunlight. And the ones that don't?" He shrugs. "Punch them in their face and toss them out. You don't have to put up with any of it. Or I can go stare at them for a while. That makes people leave about eighty percent of the time."

Abitha erupts into delighted laughter. She realized the entire question had been sort of a broody subject, a way for her to vent her disappointment about the state of her social media, but Cecil’s words, and Alexander’s offer of violence just drag her back up out of it.

“Alright, I’m buying you guys a round. In payment for sound business advice.” Another giggle. Chelsea was flagged down, Abitha making a round motion with her downward turned finger to indicate they all needed refills.

“And maybe as a down payment for bouncer services.”