2020-11-09 - Primed for a Fight

Vic is priming the walls of her home. Well, of the three rooms they had de-70s already downstairs, the dining room, living room, and den. She has plans to make one a temporary bedroom for herself until the rest of the house is finished, so the Den, where the fireplace is located, is the first one she's working on. Winter is Coming. Please don't sue me HBO. And a large, comfy sectional sofa has been ordered to be a temporary bed. It's still bigger than the one in the trailer.

The amazonian blonde is in a grey tee with a faded Foreigner logo on it, and white overalls which are splattered with paint. Hopefully paint. The red and brownish splotches could be blood, as they are clearly for work only. Her hair is in a loose, messy braid wound around into a bun at the nape of her neck. There are cans of white primer, paint pans, rollers, brushes, and painters tape on the floor, covered in drop cloths to protect the floors which still need to be refinished.

Maybe Ravn has a miserable sense of humour. Maybe he's got something to avenge. Whatever the reason, this is how come a Dane wearing his usual black jeans, shirt and wind-breaker combo slips in quietly through one of those windows opened to let the primer fumes out. He's got a sick-pack under one arm and he certainly isn't there to steal -- not that he's not pretty certain that he would in fact be very welcome to steal a fair bit of the interior, considering that doing so would save the house's owner from a trip to the city dump, maybe.

It's just one of those stupid ideas he gets sometimes. Which is why he leans against the doorframe, small lopsided grin and then coughs to announce his presence. Because normal people ring the doorbell or knock on the bloody door, and then there's ex-hustlers who think windows are a perfectly normal entrance way, and sneaking around someone else's house is a perfectly legit way to pass the time.

Oh Ravn. You clearly have not yet learned just how scary your Sith Bartending Master is. The cough has Vic wheeling on one foot, the other already in motion crossing the distance to the Dane, and her hand is at his throat, slamming him to the door frame, in the blink of an eye. There is something truly frightening in her eyes for that brief moment, before the information she's gathered finishes processing and recognizing the man as friend, not foe. "Jesus fucking Christ Abildgaard. Don't DO that!" She slowly releases the pressure of her hand from his neck, her body posture de-escalating in a slow easing off of tension.

Sporting a faded Van Halen tee (Roth years, not Hagar) and a pair of old worn out jeans, Seth lets himself into Vic's house with a rap on the door as he is opening it. Probably not the best thing to do to avoid getting shot, but he is expected so he takes the risk.

"Vic?" the enforcer calls out as he starts to walk through the house looking for her as he carts around the six-pack in his hand. "Where you at?"

A short search of the bottom floor, not to mention her reaction to Ravn's entrance and sure enough he finds her, and Ravn, quick enough. "Well," he says as a little grin falls over his face as he looks at the pair, "Don't let me interrupt. I can come back later."

Alexander, despite renting rather than owning, is a conscientious home owner. He has a checklist of home repairs/maintenance to be done each season of the year, including for fall. Sure, he's only now getting around to it, but the point is - there's a list. And it turns out that he has more materials than he strictly needs to complete his own repairs, this time around. Maybe because he bought extra. Either way, he comes down the street, not exactly invited, with a sack of caulk, weather strips, and other sorts of things slung casually over one shoulder, heading for Vic's house. He's just in time to see Ravn's shoes disappearing into the house through the window, and then just close enough to hear the THUMP of a body hitting the wall. It quickens his steps, and just as Seth wanders in from one direction, Alexander's knocking on the door from the other, calling out, "Miss Grey? Is everything okay?"

...what on earth would he plan on doing if it wasn't, is perhaps a question best left for another time.

The Dane must know or recognise something; at least he's smart enough to quickly drop the sixpack and hold his hands up, palms out, to make it clear that he carries no weapons, and otherwise just go pretty limp against the wall. Only when he is in fact released does he reach up to rub his throat, jaw clenched and pale as a sheet. "That," he murmurs. "That really was a pretty stupid idea. Sorry I startled you."

This is normal, right? He certainly tries to look it while sort of edging towards the nearest surface to sit on and actually looking a little dizzy while managing a small upnod to the two other men, hand still on his neck.

Vic lets out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding while the Dane recovers. "I don't react well to surprises," she states, or understates greatly. She picks up the dropped six pack and sets it on a plastic topped tv tray she has in here with her iPhone and Bluetooth speaker. "Might need to wait a bit to open those," she notes. Her expression is apologetic as she looks at Ravn, but the words aren't said. This is Vic after all.

Seth and Alexander are given a grim smile. "Hey guys, come in. Ravn here just learned it's not a bright idea to sneak up on me."

"Well, duh," says the other enforcer with a snort and a shake of his head as he sets the six-pack he is carrying down onto the table next to the other, "I could have told you that, Darth. You are nowhere near ready to take over her Sith-like ways. And while we are at it, I would suggest not sneaking up on me either. I may not react well." Seth shrugs a shoulder casually, giving Vic a quick look of understanding before turning to look again at Ravn and pat the man on the shoulder, pulling back at the last moment to respect his 'no touchy' ways, "You ok? Nothing bruised but your ego, right?"

Turning to look behind him as Alexander's voice is heard, Seth lets out a little sigh, "Oh, joy."

Alexander raises an eyebrow towards Ravn, even as he swings the bag over to place somewhere out of the way. "Illegal entry is not only a crime, but often provokes an unfortunate response from homeowners," he remarks, blandly. He doesn't ask if the other man's okay, since Seth covered that, but he does do a quick once over look, himself, then apparently decides that since no blood or bone is showing, everything is fine. To Vic, he says, "Brought some winterproofing stuff I had left over. Thought you might could use it; this place has been empty long enough that you probably have a number of mice who were hoping to winter over again."

A glance back at Seth's sigh. "Hello, Monaghan." He sounds every bit as thrilled as the other man.

"Turnabout's fair play. Vic snuck up on me in my place, figured I'd return the favour -- although, with beers instead of blood smeared dresses." Ravn's face regains some of its normal healthy colour though he still looks a little disoriented. The Dane really must be a bit of a pushover; Vic shoved him up against a wall, true, but she hardly punched his lights out. "I'm fine -- just my neck trying to tell me it's on fire. Give me a minute, I'll be up for helping getting stuff done."

He nods at Alexander, though. "I'll be sure to hire a marching band to announce my presence next time, rest assured."

Vic meets Seth's gaze in that moment, an exchange of understanding or even camaraderie in their terrible trade. Then she looks Alexander. Then to Seth. Then to Alexander. Clearly she missed something happening between those two at some point. "Thanks, Clayton. I appreciate it. We're just going to prime the walls in a couple rooms today, if you feel like being helpful. There's beer in the fridge in payment, and pizza coming later."

Vic harumphs at Ravn. "Well I was really, really blind drunk on Halloween. I'm sorry I forgot I don't live in my trailer anymore." She manages to look just an eensy bit sheepish about the incident.

Arching a brow as he looks between Vic and Ravn about her 'sneaking up on him', Seth looks cautiously towards Vic as a bloody dress is mentioned. "Bloody dress? Did you have a rough night at work?" The unasked question is which work...but as Vic continues the explanation, Seth lets out a little 'ah' sound, his tone becoming more relaxed. "Oh, one of those blackouts 'My brain was on autopilot' stupors? As long as you didn't end up naked in bed with him. Wouldn't that be embarrassing!" Seth exclaims with a chuckle as he pulls one of the beers from the six-pack he brought, thumbing the top off and taking a sip.

He turns to look at Alexander, giving the investigator a nod of greeting, "Alexander. Doing well?"

Alexander peers at Ravn a little more closely. "You need to learn how to block that," he remarks. "It's one thing to choose not to so that you're not threatening, but you should at least know how to take it and disperse impact when someone knocks you around." He also looks mildly alarmed when 'bloody dress' is mentioned, then suspicious, his eyes narrowing. But then Halloween is mentioned, and he rolls his eyes. "Hate that fucking holiday," he mutters. "I can prime, though." He starts rolling up the sleeves of his oversized plaid shirt; it's pretty hideous, and worn almost through to the undershirt in places.

Another look back at Seth. "Alive. As are you. No doubt that pleases people."

"Let's just say that I am sleeping in sweat pants from now on," Ravn murmurs drily. "Anyway. No sneaking up on Vic. Message received and processed. Or if I do, don't let her know I'm doing it." He lowers his gloved hand from his neck and takes a deep breath.

Then he nods at Alexander. "Monaghan's trying to help me out a bit there, actually. Problem is, it's really damn easy to knock down a guy you only need to touch. She had me at near-fainting there without even trying."

"I wasn't naked!" Vic protests. "I had underwear on. He was naked." That comes out as a grumble. Oh yes, she remembers that much, Ravn. She passes out painting equipment before she starts rolling paint on one of the walls. "Halloween is usually fun. At least nothing happened that was, you know, specifically Gray Harbor." Meaning Veil-related.

Alexander opens his mouth, then closes his mouth. He looks from Ravn. To Vic. To Ravn. To Vic.

And then he just bursts out laughing. There's no attempt to hide it or muffle it. He laughs so hard he ends up leaning against the wall. "Well. Did everyone have a good time?" he asks, when the laughter tapers off, his eyes glittering with amusement. "And Halloween is awful. People wear masks. They skulk around. My house usually gets egged. Not this year. But usually." There's a frown as he refocuses on something else Ravn said. "Only needs to touch? Why?" Never mind that it's none of his business.

"Eh, we're not a couple if that's what you're asking. It was a misunderstanding. Coffee happened, then hangovers." Ravn hitches a shoulder lightly, then looks back at Alexander. "I have a nerve disorder. When I don't see it coming, my nerves send the wrong signals. It can be quite painful, though most of the time it's more like accidentally grabbing hold of an electrical fence. Makes me pretty easy to take down, though -- something which, regrettably, my fellow kindergarteners and high school classmates never too long to figure out."

From the tone of his voice Alexander is not the first person to ask. Possibly in the first ten thousand. Possibly not. It's one of those questions a guy probably gets asked pretty often when he tends to cover up, wear gloves, and shriek if someone unexpectedly thumps his shoulder.

Vic smirks through Alexander's laughter as she rolls the primer on in proper "W" motions. "Yeah, yeah, it was hilarious." Of note, she still has a healing black eye, barely noticeable now, and abrasions on the knuckles of both hands. Her split lip healed up however. "Abildgaard knows how hot I look in lingerie now. I'm sure it keeps him up at night." PHRASING!

There may not be much that Seth and Alexander can agree on. but one thing they can agree on is that this is funny shit. Seth guffaws as he gets the mental picture in his head about Vic sneaking in and 'surprising' Ravn with both of them in various states of undress. He tries to mask it by taking a sip from his bottle, but fails as it sputters out of his mouth. "Excuse me..." he says as he excuses himself, dabbing at his shirt to try and clean up the dribbles.

"I was obliquely asking if you had sex," Alexander admits, cheerfully and with no shame whatsoever for his nosiness. "But coffee is also pleasant. He finishes rolling up his sleeves, and looks for a brush and a wall to start working on, while his head is cocked towards Ravn in a listening posture. "Mm. Interesting. I'm just phobic." His eyes flick towards Vic and her healing bruises. "No comment on the lingerie. But you didn't get those scrapes from crawling in bed with Ravn. Was that from the fight at the Pourhouse? Didn't think it got that bad."

Ravn doesn't look particularly flustered; he reaches for one of those cans of beer that did not just get dropped hard -- better let those sit a moment indeed -- and opens it. "I'll admit, it's been a few years since I had college girls wander in on at me at random to drop their clothes on my office floor but hey, makes life interesting."

Alexander's little observation there prompts a small laugh from the Dane, accompanied by a headshake. "No. Sorry if I'm failing to live up to anyone's fantasies here, but even if we had indeed shagged like bunnies, I'm not in the habit of roughing partners up like that."

Vic gives Seth such a LOOK at his laughter. He will pay for it later. But Alexander has her blinking. "No, we didn't have sex. I haven't had sex with anyone in this crazy ass town." Blink. "Well not since I came here." She glances at her knuckles. "No, no that was from the asshole college guys who cornered drunk me in an alley when I was trying to stumble home from the Pourhouse."

Alexander peers at Ravn. "You must have taught college. I can see it," he says, with apparent sincerity. He just shrugs at the mention of roughing up partners, then again at the news of Vic's sex life...or lack thereof. He starts to paint the primer on the walls. "Probably wise," he does tell Vic. "And I hope they learned their lesson. I really do hate Halloween." Another bit of grumbling, before he moves on to, "Glad no one got Gray Harbored on Halloween, though."

Seth returns, the fit of laughter subsided for the most part, missing the look from Vic entirely so whatever plans she has for him will go unexpected until the time comes. "Sorry, sorry...that mental image was just too much." the enforcer says, "I bet it was a shock to both of you, though I could think of worse ways to be surprised by Vic."

The redhead shrugs, casting a glance towards Vic as she mentions her celibacy, "That must be a conscious choice because I am sure if you had intentions, there would be plenty of people interested."

"It might have not been on Halloween, but I got Gray Harbored close enough to it," he says deadpan, after a slight pause. "It was...unique."

"University, but only as a teacher's assistant. I am qualified to lecture but I absolutely hate being what everybody's looking at." Ravn nods at Alexander. "I mentored veterans with PTSD. And tutored some college students for a while -- which is where wardrobe malfunctions happened a few times because college girls getting drunk and daring each other is a terrible thing, indeed."

He shrugs lightly at Seth's comment about Vic's choices and gets to his feet to look for a primer brush as well. "Nothing wrong with being ace, whether for a while or permanently."

Vic snorts at Seth. "Actually? I think one person has even flirted with me, and they're in a relationship so...yeah no. I think I might be intimidating." Might be? She shrugs. She knows relationships with anyone while being in their line of work is unwise at best. People you're invested in tend to become collateral damage in a gang war. "Oh believe me, I'm not ACE. I just have bad taste."

Alexander pauses in the priming to look at Seth. "You got Lost? What happened?" He doesn't look at the man for very long, though, turning his attention back to the work, although it's clear from the shifts in his posture that his attention is following the conversation around. "I don't think it's a malfunction if you mean to do it," he mentions to Ravn, then falls silent. "You might be intimidating," he agrees, to Vic. Like he had to think it over and then decide.

Seth shrugs to Vic, "I don't find you intimidating. I find you capable." But he knows the 'real' Vic, or at least what she really does. "Still, it shocks me that in your job you don't get hit on at all by the patrons at the very least. Let's be real, you are not unattractive." The redhead takes a swallow of his beer, turning his attention to Alexander with a sigh.

"Short story is I ended up other...wherever...naked on a farm with a frog the size of a Corgi. There were a few others there like Kelly and de la Vega. Frog was preggers, and I had to carry it to her shit-pile of a home, watch it give birth or lay eggs, whatever it is frogs do, and then take her eggs down to the water. In return, I got a handful of shit from the pile which turned into some useless coins." Seth explains as he finishes off the beer, reaching for another one. "So, yeah. That happened. I'd have rather woken up to a nearly naked Vic all things considered."

Seth moves over to take up one of the brushes, starting to work on a section of wall himself, "Still, it could have been worse. Ruined Kermit for me forever though."

"It's a malfunction of some kind when I kick seventeen-year-olds out of my office and tell them to stop embarrassing themselves and me," Ravn murmurs with a glower. "There are laws against that sort of thing in Denmark, and probably here too."

He shuffles over to where Alexander already is working, possibly in the hope of sharing a paint bucket; the dizziness seems to have dissipated at last. "It's funny, though. The Twofer has this reputation in town that anyone who works there practically wades through offers. From what I've seen, it's not actually the case. We get tourists and yachters hitting on Vic every once in a while, but that's more of a free show for anyone who likes to see a grown man slink off in tears. The rest of the time? It's really not like that at all."

The Dane hums while he works. Somewhere, over the rainbow...

Alexander agreeing with her being intimidating makes Vic grin a little. She's proud of being able to scare the bejeesus out of grown men. It just makes things a little tougher in the dating department. She snorts at Seth. "You'd rather wake up to nearly naked Vic ANY day, admit it," she quips at him. Then she's laughing with Ravn's humming. "Wrong rainbow song. Rainbow connection, from the Muppet Movie, that one is the Wizard of Oz."

Alexander stops priming when Seth starts describing his dream. He turns to stare at Seth, clearly trying to see if the other man is making fun. In the end he can only blink, then slowly shake his head. "This fucking town gets weirder every day. But at least you weren't a giant fly being chased by the pregnant frog. So. Good job, frog midwife." He doesn't seem to recognize that anything's wrong with what Ravn hums; he just makes room beside him for the other man. "That's not a malfunction. That's being seventeen. Some people spike prom punch. Some people throw themselves at the cute TAs." He otherwise avoids the subject of Vic's attractiveness. Maybe he's intimidated!

"Well, duh." Seth says to Vic with a look on his face that signifies 'Well duh!'. "What red-blooded straight American man wouldn't. Well, maybe besides Alexander over here." the redhead says with a chuckle.

At the humming, Seth flicks a bit of the primer off of the brush over towards Vic, Ravn, and by proximity Alexander, if they thought they were going to escape this room clean they had another thing coming. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up."

"Oh," Ravn says good-naturedly. "Well, substitute the other one, then. As long as it traumatises the guy who traumatises me in Kelly's gym." Then he glances sideways at Alexander and points out, "The cute TAs who might end up facing jail time if they go for it. At the time I was still on the dating scene, so to speak, I did have a few requirements. You know -- legal. And alive. I'm picky like that."

At least now he's not wearing all black. Look, there's a white stain on his jeans. "I plead the fifth on behalf of being in fact a red-blooded, straight, not American man."

Vic laughs as Alexander brings up spiking the prom punch. "And the spiking would have been successful if you didn't rat me out, Clayton." Then she's getting primer splattered on her. "Oh. You really want me to beat the shit out of you, don't you Monaghan." She growls, flicking paint back at the other enforcer. She flicks some at the other two gents too. "Oh come on, you haven't had ANY nice thoughts about seeing me in my undies?" she quips at Ravn.

Alexander frowns, thoughtfully. "I suppose it would depend on the circumstances," he finally decides. "It's not that Miss Grey isn't attractive, but it seems an unlikely scenario to find ourselves in." He ducks away from the splatter of primer, not entirely successfully. On the other hand, it can only improve his shirt to cover up some bits of it. Ravn gets a good natured sort of shrug. "When you're seventeen, that's not generally your primary consideration. But yes, the TAs are not seventeen, and should calculate differently. Legal and alive are good requirements." He snorts with amusement at Vic's rejoinder. "I was just protecting the integrity of the prom." And then he's splattered with more primer, a ropy line along the side of the shirt, and even some of his jeans beneath it. Revenge is had, as he flicks the brush back towards Vic and Seth. It's a genuinely playful sort of flick, even towards the redhead.

"Promises promises..." Seth says in retort to Vic, a grin slowly sliding onto his face as he lets out a chuckle while droplets of paint splatter across his face. Reaching up to wipe the white from his brow, only to smear it across, he takes another sip of his beer.

Seth casts a glance over at Alexander, quacking a brow as he asks, "You ratted her out? So, this isn't something new with you then. You just come by it naturally. Good to know." And then the platter form Alexander hits him, which sets off another flick of the paint towards the trio as he lets out a chuckle. "Pretty soon this paint job is going to look like a Jackson Pollock painting. I'd jokingly say much like Vic's sheets, but we already know that isn't the case."

"Now you're just fishing for compliments." Ravn tosses a lopsided grin Vic's way and tries to dodge the worst paint splatters from either side of the argument. "What's next, I ask for an evaluation of my frantic dodge across the bed for my pants?"

He nods at Alexander, though. "If you ever want tenure, a reputation for fiddling with the underage students is the last thing you want. Besides, who wants to fiddle with seventeen year olds? Bloody hell. There is nothing more full of empty air than the head of a seventeen year old party girl."

"Pfft, prom and integrity in the same sentence, is just wrong." Vic grins broadly at Ravn, "Oh believe me, I won't lose the mental or physical memories of you that night, bud. When I was groping around wondering why my body pillow was talking." Then Seth says THAT. And she launches at him, paint roller in hand like a weapon, in an attempt to tackle Monaghan and paint roller his face. It doesn't go to plan, though, as he manages to dodge and she winds up faceplanting on the dropcloth instead.

"It's against the rules to put alcohol in the prom punch, and besides, it could have affected other students adversely," Alexander says. Then sighs. "Also, I was a complete asshole at seventeen." At least he admits it? He gets a streak of white in his hair as Seth flicks the brush again, and harumphs. "It could only improve the interior. The seventies were not a kind decade where interior design was concerned." A look towards Ravn, and a lifted shoulder. "Never really stopped my professors." He might go on, but Vic lunges across the room, and Alexander goes immediately tense. His non-brush hands twitches back towards the small of his back, towards something concealed under his shirt, but then his brain catches up with his reflexes and he relaxes, even grins, as Vic faceplants. "Okay. Maybe not so intimidating," he teases.

Guffawing as Vic missteps her lunge and ends up prone in front of him, the other enforcer shakes his head and reaches out to offer her a hand up. "God damn, Grey. You need to be careful, I think you tripped on your pride there..." Seth jokes. "A lesser man would just tip this paint can all over your back, but I am feeling generous."

Beat.

"No, on second thought I am really not." Seth reaches over and tips the can of primer over just a hint, letting just a little bit of the liquid spill out before he sets it upright again.

"Riiight," Ravn murmurs and actually colours a little; maybe he's not quite accustomed to being referred to as somebody's body pillow. Fortunately, that's about the same moment that Vic launches herself across the room in a flying tackle with a rather embarrassing ending and he's mostly able to hide it behind a laugh. He backs up against the far wall a little lest anyone decides to involve him next.

"Didn't stop all of mine either," he murmurs to Alexander. "But it was a handy excuse as far as I am concerned. Relax, it's just foreplay. We could slip out, give them the room -- our shirts might even be salvageable later if we escape now."

Oh Seth, vengeance will come for that at some point, but for now, as Vic yelps at the paint being poured on her. She gets up to her feet then proceeds to try and rub all the paint off on Seth by backing into him, and missing, slapping against the wall instead. To save face, she just rubs the primer off on the wall surface, glaring at the other enforcer, then Alexander, then Ravn. "I hate you all." She mutters.

Again, Alexander makes no effort to hide his laughter as Seth tips the primer can, his grin bright and sunny, although relatively brief. He nods solemnly to Ravn. "It's kind of cute. Not to mention filled with innuendo, if you choose to view it that way." He looks down at his shirt. "My shirt's fine, though." He smiles widely at Vic as she picks herself up. "You don't. Probably. But we probably will pay for it at some point. Still worth it." He goes back to painting primer on the wall.

Still laughing heartily, Seth reaches into the six-pack and offers Vic a beer, "Yes, I'm sure you do. We hate you too, Vic."

Seth takes a sip of his own beer before making a display of turning his back on the other enforcer and starting to prime the wall again. "Oh, I have no doubts I am going to pay for this sometime, Alexander. No doubts in my mind at all. If you two are lucky, you will just get a slap on the wrist. I am resigned to a full-on junk punch sort of retaliation. It will hurt, and it will be swift."

"She loves me, actually. She hasn't had to do a cleaning tour of the Twofer's men's room since she hired me." Ravn speaks with the perfect confidence of a man who knows that he's doing a job that the woman in question really, really doesn't want to find herself doing in his place. He, however, dips his brush not in the bucket but on Vic. Hey, waste not, want not. Back to wall painting it is.

"I'd like to remind the avenging lady angel that a slap on the wrist might very well qualify as a full-on junk punch sort of retaliation for yours truly," he murmurs with some amusement. "Generally not fond of being touched if I can avoid it, for that reason." Wow, Ravn. Like anyone who's known you for ten minutes might not have guessed.

Vic takes the beer from Seth and pops it open with her thumb before taking a swig. "I'm gonna go across the street to Kelly's to order the pizza and change so I don't get paint on stuff that isn't supposed to be painted." She grins at the other enforcer's understanding of his future pain. "You better believe it, Monaghan. I'll just let you get ultra paranoid waiting for it to drop, like Slapsgiving on How I Met Your Mother." She brow waggles, then looks to the other two. "Keep working, I'll be back, vengeance will be mine, yadda yadda yadda." She puts her roller down and heads out to order their meal.

"I haven't done anything wrong," Alexander claims, airly. "I came over out of the goodness of my heart, and am volunteering labor. Laughter is just an enjoyable side benefit." And he, at least, is working, meticulously, when his attention returns to the wall between conversational exchanges. He just looks pleased by the thought of Seth's coming reckoning, and waves the brush companionably towards Vic as she leaves. Once she's gone, he says, "To be fair, I'm not sure there's a punishment worse than cleaning a bar's men's room. I think I'd take the junk punch, if a choice was offered. At least that's over fast."

"Not with Vic." Seth says in a deadpan tone that continues, "With Vic a junk punch will likely be more of a grab, squeeze, and a twist adding in a little ball slap at the end. No, she will make it last." He locks eyes with the two other men in the room and makes the motion with his hand of it slowly reaching up, grabbing, twisting and then slapping after a good tug. "No, she will enjoy making it hurt."

He shrugs a shoulder, lifting his beer to his lips with a grin, "Worth it."

"I don't mind it, even if it's messy at times," Ravn says as he paints. "It's satisfying after a fashion -- you can see that your work makes a difference, and it keeps your hands busy while your mind's free to go wherever it pleases. I mean, it's not a deep emotional satisfaction kind of job, but as far as unskilled labour goes? I've certainly had worse. Atmosphere at the Twofer's pretty laid back and no one's breathing down my neck. Combined with a bit of online tutoring, it pays the bills. Learning a bit about bartending on the side is a bonus."

He grins slightly at Seth's little demonstration, then hitches a shoulder. "Hey, go for it, man. I wasn't fibbing when I said Vic and I aren't a thing. I'm not looking for a relationship, no competition."

Alexander eyes Seth with amusement. "Worth it? You sound like you've spent too much time thinking about this, Monaghan. Maybe looking forward to it? We don't judge." He pauses. "That's a lie. I judge. But not about that." There's an agreeable nod towards Ravn when he says 'go for it'. "Manual labor is satisfying, yeah. It's one of the reasons I like gardening. You're making something live, and that's nice, but you can also do it for an hour without having to think about it very much. Gives you time to think about other things."

Glancing over at Ravn and Alexander, Seth chuckles with a shake of his head, "Hey, pain is fleeting and there are worse fates out there. Life is short. If I thought I had a chance, maybe I would...but it's complicated." The enforcer glances the way Vic left with a shrug as he sets down his beer and starts to paint again. Right. Before people start to try and ship 'Two Enforcers In Love' it is time for a subject change.

"Darth, tomorrow morning you and I have a date at the gym. Wear something loose and be ready to be touched...not like that, but it isn't likely to be pleasant." A beat. "How flexible are you?"

"My mind wanders," Ravn admits. "Probably why I do well with academia in the first place. I like turning things over in my head, filing away tidbits and trivia, learning and remembering stories. It's fun, but it also distracts me in a fashion that I wouldn't do well with work that requires me to be mentally focused for long. I get lost in books. I day dream. I stare into space for thirty minutes, easily, because I suddenly remembered something I read in 2011. Doesn't matter if I'm scrubbing floors or cleaning tables, my hands don't need supervision for that."

He pauses and looks back at Seth. "Enough, I suspect. What's on your mind? Also, that's -- sort of the problem. Unless I see it coming, I can't prepare for it. You want to fantasize about Vic using you as a body pillow? To me, it felt like my skin was being set on fire, and not in the fun tingly kind of way."

"I don't drift much. But I'm not always thinking about what I should be thinking about," Alexander murmurs, with sympathy. He doesn't turn towards the two men, but he's absolutely listening in as he paints the wall. "What do you do differently when you see it coming, Ravn?" he asks, sounding curious. "Why is it tolerable if you see it, but flares up if you don't?" A pause. "If you absolutely have to see it coming, it might be worth it to work on awareness over physical response, at least at first." He clears his throat. "Or I could possibly suppress the response long enough for Monaghan to teach you basic techniques. If you wanted."

"Hrm," Seth says as he continues to paint, glancing over towards Ravn. "That's going to be a serious liability if you ever get surprised, man. I can guarantee you that most fights don't start as you see in the movies, and sucker punches are a guarantee. People don't just square up and knock gloves in real life." He pauses, looks over to Alexander and then clarifies, "At least not in any real fight that isn't a legitimate sporting event. It might be more prudent to seek out a way to 'get used to' the pain, so it isn't as debilitating if something does happen."

"The specialists I've talked to never quite agreed on that," Ravn replies as he dips his brush into the paint bucket. "Some think it's a physiological response -- that my central nervous system isn't wired quite right, and there's nothing much that can be done about it. Others tell me it's a psychiatric disorder since I can mostly cope if I see it coming. There's medicine that dulls it, but then I lose most sensation of any kind -- and let me assure you, that's not practical. Cut myself pretty badly a couple of times that way, without even noticing. It's just something I have to live with."

Or maybe not. The Dane looks back at the other two men and his eyebrows shoot up. "What do you mean exactly, awareness over physical response?"

He nods at Seth. "Yeah, I know. I don't know if I actually mentioned but I bummed my way down through Europe and then over here. Lived on the bottom of society. Before that, used to bail when things got too problematic at home, just take off as a hustler and hobo for a while. Literally, run away with a circus. Things got ugly sometimes. I'm very good at talking my way out of a fight. Now you know why."

"Monaghan isn't wrong about the problem," Alexander admits, a bit grudgingly, "but if it's a nerve response, it's not something he can just 'get used to' without months, maybe years of deliberate conditioning. And if he were gonna do that, he'd have already done it." A pause. "Also, it would be torture. Pretty literally." He primes another section of wall. "What I was talking about is working on your situational awareness. So it's harder to take you by surprise. Can't make it impossible. But if your being aware of something incoming makes the response diminish, then logically, you want to be aware of as much coming in as possible. And just sort for threats and non-threats. Like," now he waves the brush at Seth, "when he walks into a room, bet you he knows where the exits are, who's in the room, and how likely they are to pose a threat pretty damn fast." A raised eyebrow towards the redhead. "Am I wrong?"

Without going into much detail as to why, Seth nods his head in agreement with Alexander. "No, You aren't wrong." He takes a breath, "Whenever I walk into a room, I take a second at the doorway to do exactly what Alexander just said. It isn't a bad habit to get into. Always know your surroundings, it is the only thing you can do to prepare yourself for if shit goes down."

The enforcer shrugs a shoulder, reaching over to grab his beer. "Learn to keep your head on a swivel less it ends up on a pike."

"I've been told I'm pretty aware of my surroundings. Always figured it was because I don't want someone to bump into me. Rosencrantz tells me it has to do with the whole being a mover thing." Ravn nods. "Never too late to get better, though. Sounds like you've read The Prince, Seth -- a good general always plays out an ambush scenario in every place he enters. I feel that way about crowded places -- it's why I tend to stay on the fringes of crows. People assume I'm just anti-social, of course." He shrugs lightly. "I mean, they're not wrong about that either, it's just not the only reason."

Alexander bobs his head. "Being a mover helps, with things. But you can always develop it. Training with Monaghan will help - not just knowing something is THERE, but what it's intending to do to you next. Because most chairs aren't a threat. But knowing what movement from a person means they're gonna walk past you, and which one means they plan to hurl a chair in your face is important. The things over There can't always be talked down," he adds, a bit bleakly. Then ducks his head, and shrugs. "Just my thought on it. Not my business, really."

There isn't much the mob enforcer and the private investigator will agree on. Laughing at Ravn and Vic's misfortune is one, and this seems to be another. "Alexander is right, it isn't just knowing what or who is in a room. You have to be able to read people. Pick up on their intentions, or possible intentions. Look for the subtle shifts in posture, watch where their eyes flick towards or how a hand twitches. Knowing is half the battle....yo Joe. Maybe we will work on some of that as well. Perception is almost if not even more important than knowing how to defend yourself."

"No, that's why I asked for help from Monaghan and Kelly in the first place." Ravn nods his agreement with Alexander. "Can't reply on everyone else in these dreams to bail me out every time. Need to be able to do my own damned bailing, one way or another. Came to realise that pretty quickly -- every time I've been in one of these experiences, somebody else has had to save my tail. I'm no prize fighter but that's just bloody embarrassing. Not to mention, a pretty shitty prospect for long term survival."

He stretches and then puts the brush down. "I think I need to go talk to Vic's bathroom. Ugh. Didn't want her to see but bloody hell, she got me good there. If she comes back before I do, don't tell her I'm in her bathroom throwing up?"

The Dane heads out of the room at a slightly increased pace. Got to hand it to the bloke -- he's good at keeping a straight face under duress. Even if he's possibly not very good at doing much else.

"I can help. If you want," Alexander offers, abruptly. It's mostly offered to Ravn, but there's a flick of his eyes to Seth, acknowledging that the enforcer may very well not want him involved in any capacity. "If the gym's cleared, I can even make opponents that won't actually touch you, but can still make you have a bad time. It's a good skill to have. Just let me know," he says, and watches Ravn head towards the bathroom.

Leaving him alone with Seth. Which, under most circumstances, might not be the best idea, but in this case, Alexander just gives him a narrow eyed look, then turns his back on him, painting in silence until Vic and Ravn come back to bring pizza and social barriers for safety.