2020-10-26 - Catch-Up Time!

There are tables, there are chairs. All in all, almost everything Ravn Abildgaard would ask for in a coffee shop. The only thing that's missing is coffee -- at least by his definition of the term. This is an on-going argument. He's been having it with Della the day manager for as long as he's been in town (which is a little more than two months). Della firmly believes in diabetes in a cup. Ravn, on the other hand, firmly believes that coffee should contain water, and well, coffee. Nothing else.

They've settled on a truce consisting of a hazelnut roast. Most of the time. With ample mutual jibing.

The Danish would-be blogger resides casually at a table now, with laptop and indeed, hazelnut roast, trying to get some file management done and generally just enjoying the quiet afternoon. Not a lot of those in Gray Harbor -- it's good enjoy quiet moments while they do indeed last.

Poor Ravn and his inability to get strong enough coffee. There is not strong enough coffee in all the WORLD. But for Diana, she drags her sorry carcass, clearly a decaffeinated one, up to the counter and orders a peppermint mocha, extra whipped cream, but also an extra shot, before paying and starting to shuffle off in a random direction. By pure coincidencey happenstance, she ends up spotting Ravn, and shuffles more purposefully in his direction.

With a yawn that belies the lateness of the day, Ifra makes her way into the coffee shop. With a laptop bag over one shoulder, a button down shirt and formal blazer, she looks rather more like she's about to attend a board meeting than a cup of joe, but perhaps either she always dresses this smartly or it's laundry day. Either way, she makes a beeline straight for the counter and after a moment or two to squint at the array of items on the menu, selects something sickeningly sweet and only tangentially coffee, and starts to poke at the sandwiches on offer. Each is lifted, turned, the ingredients examined, and then replaced before she finally settles on a panini and offers it over to be toasted.

Cash handed over, she turns to lean against the counter as she waits for the coffee at least, scanning the room and giving Ravn a slight nod of recognition and greeting. The other woman gets nothing more than a passing glance. Nothing to see here.

The Dane looks up as he's approached; spatial awareness is a thing. He in turn waves at both, saluting with the miserable nut-infested brew that he did manage to acquire, much to Della's consternation. He is one of those people who seems to know everybody, at least superficially -- a bit of a social butterfly, perhaps? Certainly possessed of the good looks and laid back attitude that one might associate with somebody worthy of that epiteth. Hopefully not quite as much of a jerk as one tends to associate with that term, though. "Afternoon, you two."

For Diana's part, she's dressed in red high-waisted pants, a pair of leggings beneath the pants with autumn leaves printed on them (barely visible at the bottom of the pants), and a ... well, it's a sweater. It has a Christmas tree on it, since apparently she's one of those 'early Christmas' people, and it also has the words GET LIT. So that's a thing: https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/71FMPtqCugL._AC_UY1000_.jpg She smiles tiredly at Ravn, saying, "Afternoon to you as well." And then she turns to see Ifra for the first time, given that was addressed to 'you two,' and Ifra gets a friendly wave. "Mind if I join you?" she asks Ravn, while already taking a seat.

Ifra collects her coffee, proceeds to sniff it dubiously, then replaces the lid and ambles over in the direction of the pair. "May I?" she asks, already leaning across the table to claim yet more sugar for her mostly-syrup-with-coffee-undertones. Once she's poured in a quantity that bears significant resemblance to that scene in Scarface she slides the sugar back over, glances briefly around the place, then helps herself to a seat in much the same way. Personal space is something that happens to other people, clearly. The laptop bag goes up on the table, but isn't yet unzipped - coffee first, obviously. "I'm sorry, you'll have to remind me your name. Hans, or Lars, or something, wasn't it?" Because all Danish names are Hans or Lars or something.

"Naw, pull up chairs, ladies." Ravn grins slightly, and no less so at the name reference. "Ravn," he adds, pronouncing the word like raown or round without the d. "Not that Hans or Lars aren't pretty common where I'm from, but I get to be a bird. How's Gray Harbor treating you? Both of you?"

"Gray Harbor is... Gray Harbor. It has a certain... Grayish, Harboriness to it. Quintessential. That said, it's getting to be my favorite time of year, so I'll take it. How are you doing... ... Ravn?" She pronounces it slightly wrong, but she's clearly trying! She extends her hand to Ifra then, saying, "Diana. Nice to meet you."

Ifra wipes her hand briefly on her opposite sleeve to remove any sugary residue before clasping the offered one and giving a nod. "Ifra. This will be my first winter here, so I'll take your word for it. Why is it called Gray Harbor? The stone? The fog? Somebody called Gray?" She pauses, holding up a hand, "The harbor bit I get, you don't need to explain that."

Ravn cants his head. "I'm actually not sure. I've only been here since September. But I think it has to do with the fog? At least the climate's not that different from what I'm used to from back home, and we get horrible fog in autumn and winter there. Pea-souper levels of fog. I could see that happening here too -- though I suppose it could also be a reference to all the... other stuff. The big names here are Addington and Baxter, so I'm pretty sure that there isn't someone named Gray involved. Everything here comes back to Addingtons and Baxters apparently fighting their own private little war back in the late 1800s. There's a couple of tours, museum, locations if you're interested in that sort of thing. I'm a historian so... Already digging it into it all like the good little nerd boy that I am."

Diana tilts her head at Ifra's question before admitting, "I've done a lot of research into the history of this place, but would you believe that never came up? Then again, I tend to have singularly focused interests." She listens to Ravn's thoughts on the matter then, perking up at the mention of his being a historian. "Oh! We should team up sometime. I'm not a historian by any means, but I do end up researching a lot about history. Addington and Baxter stuff as well, naturally. You can't walk a foot without finding something related, there."

"Tours wouldn't be a bad shot," Ifra admits. "I'm still getting the hang of the layout of the place. I've signed up to volunteer for the lifeboat in case of emergencies, but I'm pretty sure it'll take me two hours to find the station right now if I do get a call, which would be rather embarrassing, ah thank you," she continues without pausing for breath, as a delicious smelling panini, cheese oozing and glistening down the side of the toasted bread, is brought out and set down in front of her. "What sort of history do you do, Miss Diana Not-a-Historian?"

Ravn perks up and looks at Ifra. "You're into sailing? I have a boat at the marina myself. Nothing big, and I'm pulling her out of the water for winter this week, granted." Then he sips his coffee and looks back to Diana, nodding to her observations about the local family feud. "It's interesting because it's still living history. I have lunch with Baxters and Addingtons regularly. At least they're civil to each other nowadays."

"Tours do sound like a good idea, as a sort of quick way to get familiarized. I should've thought of that when I moved here! Took me ages. Ah, well." Diana smiles, then looks to Ifra at her question. "Hauntings, supernatural events and entities, the parting of the regular world and the ... extra that waits. Paranormal stuff, basically." She doesn't look at all embarrassed or hesitant to say that's what she studies, though she stops there. "And yes, exactly, ... Ravn," still pronounced wrong, "...and agreed that I'm glad they're civil! Fascinating stories between them!"

"Less sailing, more power," Ifra admits with a half smile, lifting her panini. "I like to know I've got an engine to keep me going, rather than relying on wind alone. But I'll look out for your boat on the marina." She takes a bite with a satisfying crunch, then makes the sort of O faces that come from biting into a molten hot piece of tomato. Only once she's chewed and swallowed (and will now let the panini cool a little further) does she give Diana a nod. "Well, I'm not sure I'm one for ghosts and ghoulies, but I'll admit there are some things without a scientific explanation."

Ravn makes a little grimace. It's one that people who live here probably both learn to adopt and recognise in short time. Gray Harbor being Gray Harbor, it says. "I went on a tour of Addington House a few days back. Very interesting. First time I've had a guided tour by someone who was literally a hundred years dead. I'm pretty sure that out of everyone present only four of us actually had a pulse."

"That looks delicious!" Diana says, and then nods to the rest. "Absolutely. Honestly, that's part of why I research it. I'm hoping to add it to the scientific lexicon, if you will. It is science, we just don't have it properly measured and catalogued yet, if that makes sense." She tilts her head at Ravn's talk of the tour, her mouth dropping. "You've got to tell me all about it! I've not been yet, let alone with a dead tour guide!" Oh dear.

Ifra offers up half of the panini with a raised brow. Well, might as well try to make some friends through the medium of food. "Well, it's good to know there's no ageism here, and I'll still be able to find work in a hundred years," she notes drily.

"You say that, but I talked to a paramedic yesterday who casually mentioned helping out in some incident next to a nurse from World War One..." The self-proclaimed historian can't help a grin. "I mean, this town is a nightmare but it's also a veritable cornucopia for a guy like me. Anyhow, it was a tour of Addington House -- it's a museum now. One of those local history archive affairs. Never did get to go on much actual tour because we were met inside by this lady stepped out of Victorian times, and then a lady stepped out of 1985 turned up and they started arguing about a wedding dress that apparently, one of the other people on the tour nicked off a third ghost who was having a temper tantrum upstairs. And the craziest part about that, really, is how you get used to it. It's just Gray Harbor doing its thing, you know?"

Diana lifts her brows at the offer of the panini... not that it stops her from taking Ifra up on it, or anything! "Thanks!" And yes, she very much shares in the eating, going quiet while Ravn talks about his experiences. She pauses near the end of a bite at something said, and has to hurriedly chew to be able to swallow and say, "But I never do get used to it. That's the thing! I don't really know if I ever will, but it's been years now. Years now since I got into this sort of thing, I mean... it's been over a year here, but not years." She pauses. "Maybe I'm used to it and I just don't realize it?"

"But on a serious note," Ifra interjects, poking her half a panini to try to gauge its temperature now, "I'm officially retired in a matter of days. Other than volunteering, is there any part time work going anywhere you know of, just to keep me busy? If I'm sat at home with my husband all day I think I'll probably throttle him."

"I would be surprised if there aren't volunteer opportunities," Ravn agrees. "Myself, I spend a lot of my time off work at the bar, of course, since the Twofer seems to be where a lot of local people like us end up. And here, because this is where the writers tend to end up. But then it's easy for me since I live alone and my girlfriend wants the bed to herself which gives me all the reasons to get up and out walking and talking to people, and buying tuna for her. I do look forward to the next sailing season -- I got used to living on a boat surprisingly fast, and the trailer I'm in currently just... isn't the same."

Diana eats more panini, and she does so with gusto and also mucho crumb droppage. At least the crumbs are staying in her general area. When she's done, she wipes her mouth with a napkin and admits, "I'm afraid I'm not great to ask about that sort of thing. It seems like there should be *some*thing, but I don't have details, which is less than useful, I'm sure."

Ifra is more circumspect about her panini nibbling. "I don't think bar work is for me," she admits with a laugh, then shrugs. "I'll keep looking. Maybe there's something at the marina, I'll have a look. What does your girlfriend do, Raun?" pronounced more like the Welsh than the Danish, but it's a good effort.

"Purr, mostly. And eat a lot of tuna. We have a very simple home life. Most of the time, I get to sleep in the bed too if I haven't annoyed her lately." The Dane grins slightly. "She walked onto my boat a month ago and declared it hers. Who am I to argue?"

Now that Diana's finished with her part of the panini, it's time to clean clean clean up all the crumbs, every single last one of them, almost obsessively. In fact, so obsessively that all she says in response to Ravn and his girlfriend is, "I look forward to meeting her, at some point. My hero."

Ravn sips his hazelnut roast (and sends long, wistful thoughts to places where coffee does indeed just contain coffee). "So you've been here -- for some time." He looks at Diana. "Not a native but long enough to get used to things. I think we met in that pet shop the first time? Gremlins and whatnot. And you just got off the bus last week." A glance to Ifra. "And me in the middle, new enough to still stare blankly most of the time but at least I'm past the whole 'people here are just pulling my leg' part. There's that art festival coming up -- either of you planning on going? I know Grant Baxter will be doing street art, and that's worth going for on its own, even if everything else sucks."

"Yes, the pet shop," Diana says with a nod, and then frowns, wrinkling up her nose. "Things have been going missing from my place ever since. One of which meant quite a bit to me. And... part of my kitchen sink, which nearly led to a flooded kitchen." She scowls, shaking her head. "At any rate." She sighs. "I'm not sure yet if I'm going, but I'm definitely thinking about it. I assume you're going, then?"

"Oh yes. Wouldn't want to miss out on a chance to see creative people doing their thing. Also, I've found myself spending a lot of time with Grant Baxter and his boy -- " Ravn pauses a moment to correct himself. "Gentleman friend. Because honestly, 'boyfriend' doesn't apply to people like Vyvyan Vydal. Anyhow, with them, and with Hyacinth Addington who's heavily involved with making it all happen. I'm sure those families fought like cats and dogs a few decades ago, but they seem to be getting along pretty well now. Or least Hyacinth is -- surprisingly down to earth for someone you'd expect to find in a country club scoffing at the plebes."

Diana can't help but smile at the mention of Vyvyan and 'boyfriend' in the same sentence, and then she nods at the bits about Hyacinth. "She did seem very down to earth, the one time I met her at Vyv's place, when we were all chatting, you remember. I feel the same way about Vyv... at times, anyway." She grins, seeming fond of the 'gentleman friend' in question all the same. She finishes cleaning up her crumbs, and then takes a drink of her coffee, closing her eyes in bliss for a moment. "So what all do you make of Grant Baxter, anyhow?"

Ifra's phone lets out a cheerful burble from the depths of her bag. She gives an apologetic smile, gathers it and, leaving the rest of her panini still on the plate, steps outside to take the call.

"I like him. I also don't understand half of what he's saying. But I think that's more of a cultural divide between university nerd boy from Europe and skater kid from the US." Ravn grins slightly. "He's one of those eternally optimistic people that you can't not like. Just, basically, a decent human being -- with purple hair and a rather fluid view of what's real and what isn't. I guess that comes with having lived here all his life? Vyv, though -- couldn't be more British if he tried. It's a little funny because he and Hyacinth are both the kind of people you'd expect to be utter arseholes from looking at them. But they're not -- not even close. And I say that as someone who otherwise pretty compulsively tries to steer clear of people who fancy themselves a bit higher up the social ladder, so to speak."

"Oh, I don't know," Diana says mildly, "...Vyv definitely seems asshole-ish to me." Still, there's a fond smile on her face when she says it, so it can't be TOO bad. "If Hya is that level of asshole or less, I'm sure she and I will get on fine, as well." Her smile grows. "This Grant person especially seems my type of person. Ah, well, I suppose only time will tell. And for that matter, it's possible I won't really run into either of them, so conjecture is pointless." When Ifra has to leave, Diana gives her a friendly wave, and somehow manages not to steal the rest of her panini. She's a saint, really.

"Why are you assuming that you might not run into them? They talk to me, and I'm a drifter who cleans tables and restrooms in a beach bar for a living." Ravn grins slightly. "Neither of them come from blue collar families, I'll grant you that, but they're pretty down to earth from what I've seen. Hyacinth invests a lot of time and effort in getting this town to work, somehow, in spite of -- well, everything."

He taps a gloved finger against his lip and then shrugs. "Money's nice to have when you need to pay the rent, but it doesn't make you a better person than the next bloke over. It often turns people into worse people, admittedly."

"Well, I'm not assuming at all, is the thing. I'm not assuming I will meet them, is all, since life tends to be a fluid kind of thing. I agree about money, though. Doesn't necessarily make you better or worse, but it does change up the options in view." Diana smiles over at Ravn, shrugging. "I mean, take Vyv. He gets grumpy, but he's a good person, all the same. I suspect you fall into the same camp, there. Though perhaps without the grumpy." She looks amused for a moment.

"I don't think I've actually ever seen Vyv grumpy," Ravn muses. "I've seen him snappy -- but that's different. Snappy I get. Sometimes, people should just stop being ridiculous or dense, and you run out of patience. Of course, when I say 'ever' I should probably add that I've only known the man for a few months. I think I said, I'm hardly an old hand around here. Might be I've only seen his good side."

He idly steals a few sugar packets from the basket at the centre of the table and sets them to dance on the knuckles of one gloved hand; while not at all a bad little display of contact juggling it seems to be mostly absent-minded, a bit of a personal tic -- like the guy who can't stop fiddling with the napkin, or the one who must compulsively align the toothpicks.

"When I met them both -- Vyv and Baxter -- they were fish, you realise? As was I. Mer-people, fish from the waist and down. Which is probably one of the most ridiculous experiences I've ever had -- and I didn't even have the head space at the time to properly explore it. How do fish people bodies actually work? I can't even tell you if I had two legs with fins, or more of a one big tail deal like a classical mermaid. The only thing I do know for sure was that for some reason I was wearing a shirt in the dream, rather than the traditional two sea shells in strategic places."

"Well, that's disappointing," Diana says dryly, of the lack of sea shells. She watches the little dance of the sugar packets, smiling in thought for a moment before going on to say, "Grumpy, snappy, it's all the same to me, I suppose. Though snappy is a better descriptor than grumpy for his style, I'll admit. I've only known him for a few months, myself, though he was very snappy-- at someone else, mind-- during our first meeting. I'm glad I didn't get too hung up on it, because he really does seem like a good person. ...also I'd kill to see Vyv's reaction to being a fishman."

"I was a little busy staring at my own tail in amazement at the time, and then getting stuck in burning kelp," Ravn admits. "But from what I recall he was a very large fighting betta and absolutely in love with the way his fins moved. Not that I blame him -- they were gorgeous fins. Betta are very beautiful fish. And Vyv does strike me as someone who rather likes striking a pose and looking good." There's nothing berating in the Dane's tone about that; some men look good and know it, and he has no quarrel with that.

He curls his fingers around his coffee cup with one hand and lets that little dance of sugar packets continue on the knuckles on the other. "Have you seen any more of the -- little things around? The gremlins, the sewer thieves, whatever we ended up deciding to call them? I feel vaguely paranoid, knowing that they're still here, somewhere. And that we've all kind of just... gotten distracted and forgotten about them. But they're still down there in the sewers, doing whatever it is they do."