2020-11-10 - Sailors at the Sea

A rainy autumn night would often mean a slow night for a bar by the sea, but due to a confluence of events, several freight ships all docked at the same time, and the Two If By Sea is closer than the Pourhouse, and it's within walking distance of the Murder Hotel. So the bar is packed to the gills with sailors in various states of drunkenness and grumpiness. They've taken over a good half of the tables, and much of the bar besides, and are at least keeping the bar hopping. It'll be a good financial night, if no one gets shot by the end of it.

Alexander came in a little before the rush, and has staked out a table with a view of the beach. He's staring fixedly at the sailors in their drinking, but at the same time seems to be entirely ignoring any overture on their part to make friends...or take his table, because it is large and he's alone. He seems to be particularly paying attention to a guy at the bar who's drinking alone, and is clearly on the 'grumpy' and 'drunk' end of those respective scales.

Easton has his usual position behind the bar, dressed in his usual black dress shirt and jeans. He moves around chatting up the sailors and other customers, but there is another bartends working alongside him to help with the crowd. And it is definitely going to be a good financial night and let's face it the chances are if someone gets shot, Easton would be the one who did the shooting.

Alexander notices Easton at the bar, startling when he does. Which...he's been staring in that direction for almost twenty minutes, so it shouldn't be a surprise. But it is. He immediately stands and moves in that direction, hardly noticing when his nice, big table is taken over by a group of loud, staggering sailors. Instead, he slides through the crowd with at little physical contact as he can make, and offers Easton a smile. "Hey, Easton." Before he can say more, he has to skitter to the side as a big man pushes by to order a double.

There are those guys who are clearly working sailors in from the port. And then there's that barfly one so often seen in company with de la Vega and Rosencrantz. Joe's scruffier than ever, these days. He's got the beginnings of a real beard, oddly tinged with red in comparison to the dark gold curls peeking out from under the brim of the black fleece skullcap he's wearing. It's adorned with a patch depicting an astronaut behind a cartoonishly big minigun, and wearing the legend Space Shuttle Door Gunner. He's wearing a navy peacoat over a dark plaid flannel shirt, old jeans, worn boots....shrugging it off as he heads for the stool he usually claims when he's not drinking with the rest of the Three Caballeros. "Marshall, Clayton," he says to them, peeling off his cap, leaving his hair in disarray.

Busy night of sailors for one to deal with bartending or not. Devlin manages that mix of slide through the crowd combined with a touch of precise bumps in passing to assert himself in a rough crowd. Seeing Alexander, Devlin maneuvers in that direction to reach the bar. One or two heavy drinkers give him a passing glare but then turn back to their friends. "Hi Alexander." followed by a, "Evening," to Easton. Once the big man gets his double to head back to his table of friends, Devlin inserts himself to seize a pair of seats for himself and Alexander, "Better belly up before the next wave." And to the bartender, "Double, Devil's Cut"

A bar full of transient people means ripe pickings for a pair of fleet fingers. Tor doesn't shit where he eats except in designated shitting areas, but these boys aren't local. He's been scouting for awhile now, looking for likely wallets to lift, but he so far hasn't found a target. He's got a cheap beer with the label shredded, and he's for once, not trying to start shit. Can't pick pockets if he gets tossed out for starting a fight.

Easton's noticed Alexander but had his hands full with running drinks and pouring for the waitresses. He nods at Joseph and says "Joe." in greeting but doesn't start pouring before asking, "What can I get you?" He doesn't have a single drink so Easton actually has to ask. He is turns to Alexander and grins, "Hey, wondering if you were going to just sit over there all night." More likely wondering if he had a case that would cause him to do so but he doesn't say that outloud right now. Devlin gets a nod, "You got it." setting out the glass and going to grab the bottle.

"Cavanaugh," Alexander says in return, looking the former astronaut over carefully. "You're looking messy," he says, his breathtaking lack of tact fully in display. "Hi. Things going okay?" Then Devlin is there, and has actually reserved a seat for him. He blinks at the paramedic, then offers a brief, shy sort of smile. "Um. Hi, Devlin. Thanks." He slides onto the stool. "How are things?" A glance to Easton. "Um. Sorry. I was thinking. And these people are loud," he admits, one of his hands flickering up around his temple in a way to indicate he doesn't just mean in physical volume. He picks Tor out of the crowd, and gives him a wary, mildly suspicious sort of nod.

For his part, Joe has to think about it. Where on the booze spectrum does Commander Motormouth want to end up tonight? Like it's some kind of alcoholic mood ring. He mulls it for a moment, rolling the scar on his lip under a canine, which has become something of a tic for him. "Mmmh, Cuba Libre," he says, finally.

Alexander's comment makes him arch a brow, and he scratches that scruff with a thumbnail. "Yeah, tryin' out this not shavin' thing. Never really had the option 'fore I got to Gray Harbor.I'm all right. How 'bout you?" Then he grins at Devlin. "Hey, you. Long time no see." Tor gets granted an upnod.

Vic isn't working tonight, at least not at TiBS, but she rolls in regardless because it's her go to place to eat most nights. She shoulders her way past patrons, rain clinging to her burgundy leather jacket and leaving her damp hair in curls. She's in boots, jeans, and a V-neck sweater, having cleaned herself up from a paint (well, primer) fight at her house earlier in the day. She sidles up to the bar. "Three Apples, can I get a burger and some loaded tots, and a whiskey, neat?"

"Going easy tonight, probably a good call." Easton is slightly more tactful that Alexander in saying that Cavanaugh is looking a little rough around the edges. He pours Devlin's first and moves it over to him and then gets Joes. Vic gets a smile and an upnod, but when she orders he scowls and looks around at the packed bar. He considers telling her to just pour herself and punch in the order but reminds himself that this is a new and improved Vic so he grits out a "Sure."

Devlin nods to Alexander, "No problem. Some of the customers are naturally pushy." He then calls over to Joseph, "Hey Doorgunner. Good to see you. Staying out of trouble?" He then thanks Easton, and then takes a pull on his shot. "Been looking forward to this today.. been keeping Darwin from claiming a few." He chuckles as he turns back to Alexander, "Anything exciting happening for you?"

Tor lifts his beer in a half salute to Alexander and Joe in turn, but then he's trying to weasel into the crowd. Gotta break line of sight if he's going to make anything of this evening. He findsd a likely target in one of the smaller sailors with low-slung jeans and a half-ripped back pocket. He pretends like he's looking for a friend, swigs his beer, then makes his move. He jostles the man next to the big man in just the right way to facilitate what he plans to be a grab. He manages to get hold of the man's wallet, but it's not completely undetected. He gets a 'hey, watch it,' from the man. Tor murmurs an apology and then pushes out of the knot of sailors, his prize already disappeared into one of the inner pockets of his surplus military jacket.

Alexander's not quite following Tor with his eyes, but he casts several suspicious looks back towards the man as he slips through the crowd. However, there are distractions, and he looks away at just the right (or wrong, depending on your perspective) time to answer both Joe and Devlin, "Things are okay. I'm getting work. That's nice. A bit weird. People still are trying to pay me in fake cocaine. It's kind of insulting." He smiles to Devlin. "You're doing good work. Run across anything weird?" And then he casts a look back into the crowd...but there's Tor, innocent as a newborn babe. Hmph. He looks back to see Vic, and offers her a nod.

Joe slants Easton an amused look. He's been on the receiving end of bartenders' attempts at tact before. But he only lifts his drink in salute, before taking a swig. "Hey, Vic," he says, amiably. To Devlin, a shrug. "Last li'l while, yeah." And indeed, those scars on his face are old enough to have faded somewhat. He doesn't seem to be cognizant of what Tor's up to, but that might be a deliberate thing. The relative crowdedness doesn't seem to dismay him.....then again, he's a veteran of so many dockside dives. "Anyone pay you in the genuine article? Askin' for a friend."

Astrid pushes through the doors and evening crowds in her 'Two If By Sea' shirt, a short skirt of dark denim, and semi-opaque black tights that disappear into her short boots that somehow manage to not make her feet hurt after a long shift. Her hair is down, but that's temporary because she's already threading it up into a high ponytail as she cuts a path right to the bar and then behind it so she can clock in. "Hi, Boss!" She's already gotten over Easton being back (from outer space). She pulls her long dark hair through her elastic band, and then gives its edges a little tug so it falls around her neck and shoulders in that natural, but somehow perfectly on point way that Astrid has perfected.

Vic gives Easton a grin, knowing damn well he's swamped and she should clock in and help, but she's not gonna. She has more things to do back at her house tonight. She returns Alexander's nod. "Thanks for the help earlier, Clayton," she notes. "His next drink is on me, Marshall. Joe's is too, for helping yesterday." She only flits a small glance towards Joe. Her and Ruiz had a small yelling match in front of the poor guy and she's not proud of it. "Hey, Joe," she returns quietly, sliding up on a stool not far from the sailor.

A burst of animated conversation by the sliding doors that lead out to the deck, and the scent of cigarette smoke precedes the arrival of a sturdily built Mexican who.. well. He could probably pass as a sailor, with the tattoos he's got scrawled up and down one arm. And he sure seems to know a couple of them, by the way they're greeting each other like old acquaintances. But no, it's definitely the acting police Chief in that ratty hoodie and surplus cargo pants, nursing the remains of a glass of tequila as he tries to extricate himself from his buddies, and peel away toward the bar.

"Busy night, hey, Marshall?" he greets Easton in a low rumble, tossing back the last of his drink before setting down his empty glass and sliding it toward the other man. Alexander gets an upnod, and Joe across the way, a wink if he manages to catch the blond's eye. For Vic, a taut little smile that creases the corners of his eyes and disappears shortly after.

Devlin lifts his glass Joe's direction, "I guess that means your trying hard enough." He chuckles some and then shakes his head a bit as he takes another pull. "Fake Cocaine.. that's a new one. Then again.. I've seen weirder payments, Alexander. Some, you just do not want to know about." He notices Vic and gives her a nod. "Marshall.. that's a new one, well for me to hear."

Tor sidles up to the bar after moving out from the knot. His hand goes in to the wallet but he withdraws only cash. There's a fair bit of it, and a few foreign bills too that get slipped into another pocket. Later, he'll ditch the wallet sans cash in the bathroom or drop it on the floor somewhere. The cards are useless, as is the ID. He just wanted the cash but he needed the wallet. But for now, he'll use the cash to order not the cheapest beer on tap for once. He's not too far from The Familiars, aka Joe and Alexander who've been looking his way while he's been trying to work. Rude.

Alexander blinks at Vic. "It's not...you already gave pizza. More isn't necessary," he mutters, looking embarrassed. "But I was gonna get a beer." A glance at Easton, and a helpless little shrug. Joe gets a startled look, then a snort. "If I were, I don't think I'd be admitting it. But no. I'm pretty sure the point is that they think I'm desperate enough that I'll snort anything." The amusement widens to a smile at Devlin. "What, get people trying to bribe you to pass on some of the ambulance's stash?" Tor gets a narrow eyed look, but the guy seems to be behaving himself, so that's all. And then Ruiz gets a bright, brief smile.

"Ashtrid!" Easton calls out all cheery for a moment before he turns 'boss-like' "Get clocked in and help me the fuck out!" It's mostly joking but he's obviously swamped and Vic is the opposite of helpful right now. "I don't know anything about fake cocaine.." Easton says with a wry smile. But then he calls out, "Doctor Pizza Boy!" loud enough that some of the sailors actually jump, but they quickly turn back to their drinks. "What can I get ya Tor?"

Ah shit. Ruiz is here. Vic returns his tight smile with one of her own. She seems relieved when Alexander addresses her. "Hey, you didn't sign up for being splattered in primer because Monaghan is a 12 year old in a 30 year old's body," she points out to the investigator. Devlin's nod is returned as well.

Ruiz's question just gets a middle finger in return from Easton.

"Alright, alright... but that's going in my report to H.R." Who she's pretty sure is Bennie these days, and is very biased. Astrid does nudge over to the computer so she can clock in, and then she's checking over the orders that are already in. "Odin's Beard," look, she's been at SCA, which probably explains the still-healing wound on her arm; accident on the killing fields and not at all related to a Dream about Vikings. Nope. She smiles to Alexander with that winning, dimpled beam. "Hi! What kind of beer interests you?" A good waitress always has good ears. She hasn't recognized Tor yet-- but man, she's going to really crimp his style once she does.

Vic's offer genuinely seems to surprise Joe a little, and he blinks sleepy blue eyes at her. "Well, don't mind if I do," he drawls, lifting his current glass to her in thanks. Then Ruiz appears, and he all but lights up, before gesturing invitingly at the stool next to him. "De la Vega," he says, clearly pleased at the cop showing up.

He asides to Devlin, "Been keepin' my nose clean, tryin'a stick close to home." Alexander's reply just makes him snort and take another swig of his drink.

Devlin chuckles to Alexander, "Had a run two days ago this guy wanted a hit of morphine as a part of his treatment for getting his arm opened up falling out of a tree. Tried to leverage his woman in the bedroom sort of thing. I asked him, "Before you fell, did you say anything like 'Here, hold my beer'. The guy just shook his head. I simply told him, then you aren't hurt enough for morphine, bribe or not." He grins a bit with that and then nods to Joe. "Just don't get bored. That causes trouble.. well for most people that I know."

It takes Tor a good few seconds for him to realize that Easton means him. And only then is he sure because it's followed with his name. "Incredible Disappearing Man," he counters in the nickname department. "Gimmie uh...darkest something. Beer," he says to Easton, who gets there ahead of Astrid. Usually his order is 'cheapest.' Not because he doesn't like other beer. It's just because he's cheap and usually out to get drunk for the least amount of money. But he suddenly finds himself a bit flush. Alexander gets a sweet smile. He's...sort of capable of that? Sort of? Kind of? It's not deeply suspicious but nor is it normal fo rhim.

Alexander eyes Astrid. "Um. Whatever's cheapest. I guess." A glance down at the arm. "What happened?" Because a chance to be nosy tops just about everything else. Except, apparently, saying back to Vic, "To be fair, you did try to tackle him first. And I told you I didn't mind." A pause. "The helping paint, not the tackling. I didn't mind that either, but you weren't doing it to me, so." He pauses, then shakes his head. "Nevermind." There's a startled look to Devlin, then a laugh. "Really? I hope his lady broke his other damned arm."

Astrid recognizes Alexander; she had been doing some senior thesis project on the pond in the park. She spares pointing that out to him, for now. He gets her off-track with noticing the scabbed, pink gash in her arm; she glances down at it, and then back up to Alexander. "Oh, you know... Saxons." Then she glances at the beer board with a casual tilt of her chin, and then she offers to Alexander. "Think we got this new IPA from the Freemont Brewery up out of Seattle that's pretty good, and we're running a special-- two for the price of one, or you can get a free order of deluxe fries. Both mean that your beers are full price, but you get some side bonus." Then she smiles to Vic and Joe, tucking her long, but not-long-enough forelocks behind her ear. "You both still good?"

Easton's middle finger is returned cheerfully enough in kind (for de la Vega) with one of his own, and the time checked on his watch before he leans on in to murmur something low to Joe. A crumpled bill's tugged out of his wallet and tossed atop the bar to pay for his drink, and he pushes off and heads for the door shortly after.

Devlin finishes off his bourbon. "I expect to make another run there in about a week or so when she does." He gets an evil grin, "She was worried about someone may be stealing her purse after the Ambulance took him away, so I showed her a simple Chin-na.. joint lock that could hurt." He whistles innocently as he rubs his chin looking at what passes for a menu. Once a bartender is back to where he is, "Order of wings, hot and that IPA," he hooks a finger towards Astrid, "she mentioned sounds good."

"No he splattered us with paint first, THEN I tried to tackle him," Vic corrects Alexander. She flits a faint smile to Astrid. "Will be once my food gets here and the boss gets me my drink." She's teasing poor swamped Easton but she needs a win after her embarrassing missed tackle on Seth earlier. Her eyes track Ruiz's departure with a slight frown before she looks back to her boss expectantly.

"Cruel," Alexander tells Devlin, but he looks amused. "Effective, but cruel." Astrid's mentions of IPAs gets the blank look of someone who probably thinks he's getting fancy when he ventures away from Budweiser. "Um. I'll...have that. Sure." Another look at the arm. "Saxons? Did you travel through time?"

That is, for the record, a serious question. In Gray Harbor, you can never tell. His eyes follow the police captain until Ruiz vanishes into the crowd, then skip back to the closer familiar faces. A smile to Vic. "Okay, yeah. That's accurate."

Tor only gets a few mouthfuls of his beer before he spots some of the sailors moving towards him. Damn. Shoulda waited til they were more drunk. So that's his cue to beat a hasty exit. He does stop long enough to give Astrid a "Hey, cuz," and a wink before he's pushing through the crowd, deftly dropping the pilfered wallet minus the cash under a table by the door. Shame. There are so many good targets ripe for picking. Oh well. Gotta pick your battles.

Whatever Ruiz murmurs to Joe, it conjures up a slow, wicked smile, before he nods. But he doesn't immediately pry himself up from the bar. He does start working on that drink in earnest, though. No doubt he doesn't intend to stick long, once it's done. Astrid's question gets a lazy, "Oh, yeah, I'm set. For now, anyhow." But then, it's become a rare thing that he has more than a drink or two of an evening, at least these last few months.

Easton is in the middle of pouring a beer for another sailor when he overhears Vic's comment, the look he gives her is the most 'so done' deadpan that he can manage. He hands the beer to the sailor without even looking at him and goes to finally get her the drink, but it's not what she ordered, no it's a floofy daquiri that takes twice as long to make but he makes it out of spite. He hands it over with a look that clearly says it's the only drink he's making her tonight. Take it or leave it.

Any other day, Astrid might recognize the blank look from Alexander when she mentions IPA. Today, she does not. Had she done so, she would have warned him about the alcohol content. The special Grays Strange out of Fremont boasts a 13.5% ABV. She beams at Alexander as she jots down his order. "You got it!" Then to his more serious question, she mulls her answer over. "Not sure. Don't think so. Still trying to figure that one out." She is turning around, and she spots Devlin first. "Hey, Kung Fu Master! Didn't think you ever left the Pond," she casually chitchats on her way to get Alexander his beer. And then she spots Tor, and she blinks before she lifts her hand in a wave that may or may not include a suspicious narrowing of her eyes.

Devlin says, "Paint? Sounds like something interesting happened somewhere.." He smirks a bit, "And yeah.. may be cruel. If the guy's smart he's going to make it up to her big time before he gets home. My money though is on.. he won't." He stares a bit at the floofy Daq.. and shrugs, "That looks rough.."

The dacquiri has Vic barking out a laugh. "Fuck you, Marshall," she quips to her boss. "And make my food to go." She totally drinks the drink though. It's booze, she's not that picky tonight. And she probably deserves it for her first month or so working there. She's also downing it at an alarming pace because it tastes like candy. She smirks at Devlin. "Yeah, in my house. We were following up after evicting the 70s decor from it."

"Miss Grey bought a house. It is trapped in an eternal design nightmare of the 70s, and she's trying to exorcise it," Alexander informs Devlin solemnly. "She burned all the furniture, and is now attempting to anoint it in paint. I give it a forty percent chance of working," he adds, voice dry. He bobs his head in thanks when Astrid brings him by the beer. He takes a sip, and blinks at it. "This is...good." He says it like he doesn't expect beer to taste good. He continues to sip as he watches the byplay between Easton and Vic.

Devlin nods to Vic, "Sounds like good riddance to a horror show. I find a 12 pound sledge to be very helpful were aggressive removal of old bad decor." He then smiles to Astrid, "It is a nice place to practice. But they do let me out to be a paramedic," he jokes a bit with her.

"That house is a hot mess," Joe agrees, nodding solemnly. "It really hasn't been updated since Ford was in office, I swear. I was helpin' work on just the bathroom the other day, that tile was awful." To Devlin, he says, "It was near that bad, but I didn't wanna punch through the backer and right into the nextroom, y'know?"

"Yeah, the place hadn't been lived in since the era of avocado, goldenrod, and burnt orange kitchen appliances," Vic admits. "Triple murder happened back then. I'm assuming it was over the decor. It would be totally justified," she deadpans.

There is a chuckle from Devlin, "Biggest mistake my father ever made was a vacation with Mom to Tuscany. Guess what happened to the kitchen, dinning room, and the sun room as a result?" He grins a bit with that. "And yes.. I think Mom would have committed murder if Dad didn't agree with it. Fortunately for me, I was off to Basic before the remodel started."

"Justifiable homicide," Alexander agrees, with a smile. He takes another sip of his beer, then side-eyes a group of sailors as they get close. He winces, rubs at his temple. "At least fifteen percent of domestic homicides start as an argument over interior decoration or design." Another sip. "That's a lie. I'm making that up. But I," another wince, and look at the sailors. "I should go. It was nice to see you all, though. Don't die." And then he's pushing himself hastily to his feet and heading for the door.

"Actually, at the time that colored appliances were becoming big was also a period where technicolor was just getting wide-spread. The TV industry inspired colored appliances. Until then, the idea of having something bright and colorful in a kitchen seemed unnecessary. Once you could see how colorful something could be, you wanted it." Astrid all says this while she inputs Alexander's order into the computer to keep track of his bill. She glances to Easton.

Vic 'huhs' at Astrid. "I figured the government was just experimenting by putting LSD in everyone's water and they were all clinically insane when they bought those colors." As her food is delivered in a to go bag, she sets cash on the counter with a huge tip for Easton, then gives Alexander a salute, and clasps Joe's shoulder. "Thanks again for the help guys." Then she's back out into the rain.

Devlin smiles, "Learn something new. Say can I get a bottle of that IPA? and the Wings to go?" He taps his phone at his side, "Seems a friend wants to talk." Once he gets his beer and wings, Devlin departs after leaving a nice tip to go with the bill.

Outside the windows of the Two if by Sea a siren flashes. Many of the patrons stop what they are doing and some go to the windows but the horn blast that follows causes Easton to know exactly what's going on. He laughs and tells Astrid, "Hold down the fort, I'm going to take a break." Yeah, she's well aware of what an ambulence pulling up to Twibs means, especially when her boss gets that look in his eye. It's been a long time since the Wham-bulence pulled up for a booty call but suffice to say, Easton's taking his break now. He heads out to the parking lot with just a little bit more spring in his step (on his good leg) than normal.

Easton gets that look, and Astrid just mumbles, "Gross," like Easton and Bennie are the over-affectionate parents of a teenager. She gets behind the bar to take over 'tending while Easton is out.