2020-12-03 - Grifter, Hitter, and Investigator

(TXT to Ravn Seth) Alexander : Seth. Ravn. Hello.

(TXT to Ravn Alexander) Seth : Alexander. What can I do for you?

(TXT to Alexander Seth) Ravn : Hails and salutations and light showers of spring snow. What's up?

(TXT to Seth Ravn) Alexander : Ravn. Are you still high? Not judging. Just asking.

(TXT to Alexander Seth) Ravn : Hung over, as it happens.

(TXT to Ravn Alexander) Seth : You are lucky this is a text or I would talk really loudly.

(TXT to Ravn Seth) Alexander : Hope it was fun getting that way. 🙂 I need to ask your help. Both of you. If you have some time?

(TXT to Alexander Seth) Ravn : Somehow this does not surprise me. And I still haven't found the emoji to flip you the bird. Life is very hard.

(TXT to Seth Ravn) Alexander : 🐦

(TXT to Alexander Seth) Ravn : Sure, what's up? As long as it doesn't involve power tools or more whiskey, I have time?

(TXT to Seth Ravn) Alexander : Probably not power tools. Not for you, anyway. I do need you to be distracting, though.

(TXT to Alexander Seth) Ravn : I used to be a street hustler. Keep talking.

(TXT to Seth Ravn) Alexander : I have a job. One spouse wants me to check out what another spouse is doing in a shed. Apparently outsourcing spousal snooping is a thing, now. But I need someone to distract the spouse at the front of the house, and someone else to use hands. One of mine is out of commission.

(TXT to Seth Ravn) Alexander : I will split the payment with you.

(TXT to Alexander Seth) Ravn : Eh, nevermind that... Am thinking of reasons to walk up and knock on someone's door. Where is this? Might I get away with asking for directions, you think?

(TXT to Ravn Alexander) Seth : Help? Help with what? What on earth could you need my help for?

(TXT to Ravn Alexander) Seth : Oh. I should scroll

(TXT to Ravn Seth) Alexander : Yes, probably. It's on the outskirts of town. Could have gotten lost. I need you to use hands, Seth. It's not technically trespassing, since we have one spouse's permission.

(TXT to Ravn Alexander) Seth : Sure. Why not. I have nothing better to do today I don't think.

(TXT to Alexander Seth) Ravn : Oh, on the outskirts? I'll just go look for my cat then, no worries.

(TXT to Seth Ravn) Alexander : Excellent. Meet me here: (insert address here).

(TXT to Alexander Seth) Ravn : Give me ten, I don't run.

(TXT to Seth Ravn) Alexander : No rush. Thank you both.

(TXT to Alexander Seth) Ravn : ... Wait, which spouse am I distracting?

(TXT to Seth Ravn) Alexander : Husband.

(TXT to Alexander Seth) Ravn : Phew.

(TXT to Ravn Alexander) Seth : I can always just deck him...

(TXT to Ravn Seth) Alexander : 🙁

(TXT to Alexander Seth) Ravn : Such finesse. 😆

(TXT to Ravn Alexander) Seth : What is more distracting than a broken nose?

(TXT to Ravn Alexander) Seth : Fine, fine...i'll be there soon-ish

(TXT to Alexander Seth) Ravn : You tell me. I mean, it's a recent experience for you and all.

The address Alexander has sent the two is on the outskirts of the town, where the houses tend to be large, and on large parcels of land, so each house only has one or two 'neighbors' in sight. More, the road is heavily forested, and smells green and wet, even in the fall. Alexander is standing before an empty house, the For Sale sign old enough that it's started to mold around the edges. Admittedly, in this climate, it only takes a few months. But he's pretending to look at the house while he waits, dressed in a dark purple sweater, jeans, and big stompy black boots. His nose is still healing from being broken - the potato-like swelling of it and copious face bruising has turned livid and blue. One of his hands has two fingers broken and splinted - the other hand is gloved, but this one is free.

Ravn walks up not long after, wearing his usual black jeans and turtleneck ensemble, paired with a not too shabby black leather jacket. What's a bit unusual about his appearance today, perhaps, is the bright chiffon scarf in shades of yellow that he's added -- it draws the eye in a kind of way that's not at all aesthetically displeasing but quite uncharacteristic, perhaps. He walks up to Alexander, gloved hands deep in his jacket pockets, whistling lightly -- one of those tunes that seem vaguely familiar but you can't quite place it.

"So, the only thing I'll really need from you is a text when it's all right to stop distracting the bloke," he murmurs, and while he does, looks around himself as if perhaps looking for something. "This should be fun."

Not long after than, Seth rolls up in his '68 Cobra GT, parking the muscle car into the driveway of the empty lot and killing the purring engine.

Stepping out, Seth looks like he normally does when dressed casually. Jeans, tee with a flannel over it and a pair of well-worn hiking boots to cover his feet. "What the fuck happened to you, Alexander?" Seth mutters as he gives the PI a once over. "Poke your nose somewhere it didn't belong? Again?"

Alexander blinks at Ravn as he walks up. "Your scarf is bright. Did something happen to your neck?" No, Alexander, it's called fashion. A nod at the mention of the text. "Will do. Just don't let him come around the back. Should be fine." When the Cobra rolls up, Alexander blinks, then brightens. He gives the car an admiring look. "That's a lovely car." It actually takes him a moment to reorient on Seth. He blinks at the question, then shrugs. "Broke some things. It's fine. They're healing. But I can't glove one of my hands. So. I need new hands. Did you bring gloves? I have some, if you didn't." Then a faint smile at them both. "Thanks. For helping. Wouldn't normally ask, but..." Another shrug. "Place we're going to is just around the corner. Figure Ravn can walk the road, and Seth and I can cut across this backyard. There's a shed in the back. For the last three months, client's husband has been disappearing out to the shed for extended periods, and refuses to tell his wife what he's doing in there. I don't know why she doesn't...just go? But she won't. She gave me the key instead, asked me to check without being noticed. Doesn't want him to think she doesn't trust him." His voice is very dry.

"Sounds to me like the definition of not trusting him." Ravn hitches a shoulder, and then touches the scarf. "My neck is fine. I need something to draw the eye -- if this guy ends up describing me later, I'm some guy with a very colourful scarf. Not some guy who wears black or has a funny accent. It works eight out of ten times."

He nods at Alexander's instructions. "Yeah. I'll just be looking for my cat. And steering him away from his shed. Car parked out front would be perfect , driveway will do. Otherwise I'll make something up." Then, with a small smile, he adds to Seth, "I asked if the train has come to town and hit him first, but he didn't give me an answer, either."

Seth give Alexander a look that is the epitome of 'Are you serious?' as the enforcer moves to the truck of his car and opens it. He reaches in and produces a pair of black leather gloves, slipping them on over his hands before he shuts the trunk again. "What do you think we are going to have to do in there, Alexander? Should I be bringing anything other than just myself?" The enforcer casts a glance over at Ravn, blinking at the scarf since he was to focuses on Alexander's broken face and arm before. "Wow. That's a look."

"I don't think she's a very self-aware person," Alexander tells Ravn, solemnly. "She thinks he's sneaking out to bang women in the shed, or something. He probably just has porn out there. But she paid in advance. I'll give you both your cut when we meet back up." He ducks his head at Seth's look, then shakes it. "No. I don't think so. I didn't sense anything alive in there, so it's not like he's got someone locked up in there." It's Gray Harbor, that might need clarifying. "I just want to take some pictures so that she knows he doesn't have a sex den."

"It's Gray Harbor. He's got a meth lab or a pet demon." Ravn hitches a shoulder, and then winks at Seth. "See? It works. Let's do this. Text me when you're out, or a demon is eating your face. On second thought, text someone who can fight in case of the latter."

He turns and begins to walk, still whistling that merry little tune, towards the house around the corner that Alexander indicated. While the Dane's pace is slow enough that he'll definitely hear anything said to him as he leaves, there is a spring in his step that's not usually there. The spring of someone who's about to go do something that amuses him greatly, and which he has perhaps missed a bit.

Shrugging a shoulder, the enforcer says, "If you say so. I guess I am ready when you are, Alexander." Seth starts to stretch out 'just in case' he needs to get physical. "So we break in, get pictures, then get out. Got it. Sounds simple enough...but why do this now? Why not so this under the cover of night? Less chance of being seen, distraction or no."

"I wouldn't rule out meth lab," Alexander admits. "We'll see how it smells." To Seth, he says, "She doesn't want to be home when I check. And he never leaves. I've been watching for two days now, and he never leaves." There's a faint edge of exasperation in Alexander's voice. "He can leave. He has a car, but he doesn't. It's frustrating. But yes. I have a key. No breaking required. Just entry, photos, leave." As Ravn walks away with that spring in his step, he gives Seth an amused look. "I think he's enjoying this."

The house the three are targeting is an older house, not hugely attractive. It's got light blue siding that has a patina of algae on the front, with a sharply peaked roof in the middle section, and then ranch-style flat 'wings' sticking out both sides. The porch is small, but the doorframe and windows are elaborate stained wood and glass, like they somehow came from a much nicer house and just got stuck there. The yard is moderately well-kept - whoever lives here isn't obsessive about weeding and mowing every weekend, but they're not neglectful, either. Around back is wilder - the house sits on about two acres, and it's mostly forested, except for a little strip around the back of the house that seems to be exclusively for grilling, and then a large shed that's almost more of a mother-in-law suite. It looks at least ten years newer than the house itself. It has a real front door, with a deadbolt lock; there are windows, but they're covered with some sort of interior blackout curtains.

There's an old pickup truck in the car port out front, and through the front windows, someone can be seen moving around in the living room.

Trust a distraction to the Danish guy. Ravn walks up -- not to the house but to the truck, and he does so in a fashion that somehow advertises his presence. While not quite swaggering, he walks slowly and confidently past the windows of the house in a way that certainly will attract the eye of anyone inside, looking out. He walks around the truck just once -- bends down to look under it -- and then proceeds onwards to the house, where he saunters up to ring the doorbell, demonstrating a casual, confident air that is entirely not the somewhat reserved, often self-effacing Ravn Abildgaard most folks around here know. This is a man of the world, someone confident and easy going, smiling and attractive.

Seth pauses at the edge of the property, holding out a hand to stop Alexander from moving forward as the enforcer takes a moment to survey the grounds. One never can be too careful when encroaching on the unknown. "Give it a minute, Alexander." the Irishman says in a low whisper, "I want to see if anything is moving out here."

Alexander stops. Look, you don't invite a professional along if you don't plan to listen if they say something. The investigator waits while the enforcer scans the forested area. It's not a great place to survey; a lot of undergrowth, a lot of shadows from the above canopy, and the wind through the branches rattles and makes a constant murmur of noise that threatens to obscure the sounds of anything moving out there. But there doesn't appear to be anything other than a couple of squirrels and birds.

Meanwhile, the door is opening before Ravn even properly gets up to the porch. "What the fuck do you think you're doing with my truck?" is the gruff greeting Ravn faces. The man who opens the door is Ravn's height, and twice as wide, with the strong arms and shoulders of a lumberjack. He's probably in his late forties, still in decent shape aside from the gut, and he doesn't look...friendly.

Ravn, on the other hand, does. He lights up in a smile at the sight of the man and walks up, one gloved hand out for a pre-emptive offer of a handshake. "Oh, I'm so sorry to be disturbing you. It's not your truck I'm after, sir -- it's my cat. I've been looking all over the area for her, and I met a lady down the road --" he pauses to half-turn and point that way, the way that Seth and Alexander are not "-- who was absolutely positive that she saw my cat sneak up under your truck. She does that -- she goes looking for the warm places, and let me tell you, getting her back out is an absolute nightmare, the last time it happened somebody called the bloody cops on me because they thought I was trying to steal their car. I don't suppose I could take a look, see if she's there? I was about to ring your doorbell to ask."

So much accent. Far thicker than usual, and the words come rapid fire too. Grey eyes that focus intently on the other man, and a posture that manages to advertise both that the older fellow is the most interesting person on the planet at the moment, courtesy of being the owner of the car that is the most interesting thing on the planet right now, and and that the person doing the rapid-fire talking is a foreign ditz who might genuinely just be -- looking for a lost cat.

"She's a Russian blue," Ravn adds. "I don't know if you're a cat person, sir, but the thing about Russian Blues is that they are about as stupid as you'd expect from a breed with a name like that, but they are also very valuable."

Not seeing anything of concern, the enforcer slowly starts to creep forward. "Keep low. Move slow but not that slow. Look where you are going to step and make adjustments based on the terrain."

Seth takes the point, slowly creeping around the parameter of the yard towards where the shed lays in weight, taking his time and staying to the forest as much as possible. "Any windows? Solid structure? On a slab or is there a crawl space?" he questions Alexander as he makes his approach.

Dan just...stares at Ravn. At least until the 'lady down the road' is mentioned. Then he snorts, his expression twisting with that special resentment reserved for neighbors. "Maddie Marsh? That senile old witch couldn't see three feet in front of her face, but she thinks she can. Probably saw a goddamned squirrel or leaf or something. I haven't seen any cats." He looks like he's about to just shut the door in Ravn's face, but the 'helpless foreigner' bit (and maybe the mention of 'valuable') makes him pause. He licks his lips. "Valuable, huh? You offering a reward if we find your cat, then? I could maybe open up the truck for you. Sometimes like the little assholes crawl up into engines."

Meanwhile, Seth and Alexander are moving quietly to the shed. It has windows, but they're currently covered in blackout curtains from the inside. It's on a solid slab, so no crawlspace. He points at both features in answer to Seth's questions as they approach. Alexander isn't quite as silent as Seth is, but both men clearly are accustomed to not wanting to attract attention, and they don't do more than rustle a few leaves as they pick their way to the door. Alexander carefully slips his good hand into his jacket pocket, and takes the key that his client gave him. "I'll open the door," he says, quietly. "Stay back just a little. I doubt it's booby trapped or anything. But sometimes I'm wrong."

Ravn studies the other man for a moment, and an entire array of emotions are visible as they march across his face in rapid succession.

Annoyance. Why is this man not doing what I want?
Penny drops. Ooh -- he wants a reward.
Cunning. I can totally cheat this asshole.
Cunninger than a fox that graduated in cunning from the cunning academy of cunning in Oxford. I got you, bro.

An act within an act and giving a bit of a show to boot. Ravn makes a bit of an effort to hesitate -- and to indeed let Dan observe that whole theatric show of supposedly fast thinking. And then he nods, in that slightly smug, slightly regretful way of someone who is annoyed that they have to cough up anything to a rube such as Dan -- but who's also mentally patting themselves on the back that at least they know the worth of a Russian Blue and Dan doesn't. I can totally hand you a twenty and you'll thank me for it, sucker, that smile says.

And with that smile goes, "That's probably only fair. You see, I hate the damn cat. But she belongs to my aunt, and you know how women get about their cats. The little piece of shit eats nothing but Alaskan salmon. Got to stay on her good side, she's not getting any younger -- tell you what, she'll slip me a fifty if I find the bloody animal. I'll split it with you, you can buy yourself or the wife something nice, and laugh about that time that bloody cat got stuck up the truck but fortunately we got it back out before you actually had to drive somewhere."

This is Alexander's turn to do his thing. He has a key, so Seth does as he is told and stays back and away from the door. "I'm less worried about boobytraps than I am about alarms, Alexander," the enforcer says with a shrug of his shoulder, "Do you have a contingency for that outcome?"

Alexander pauses, and cocks his head to one side. His gaze goes far away for a moment, looking at something Seth can't see. Then he shakes his head. "No electronic alarm, at least. If there's some cans on the door or something, we'll just have to trust Ravn to keep the guy distracted." He flashes a grin at the enforcer, then carefully opens the door. He has to do it with his non-dominant hand, so there's a moment where he almost drops the key, and curses under his breath, then catches it, and pulls the door open. The shed is fairly large, and dark inside: no cans rattle, and nothing seems to go off. Inside is dark, but the light from the door illuminates a concrete floor, several animal trophies, taxidermied, hanging from the ceiling and the walls. At least a dozen pairs of glossy black eyes seem to stare at the two of them. But that's not the key feature of the interior: it's mostly empty, except for a very large...easel. A small bench off to the side has painting supplies, and stacked up against walls are canvases. Some are clean, but most are turned towards the walls. "Huh," Alexander says, quietly.

Meanwhile, Dan is definitely watches those emotions play over Ravn's face, and his own in return are blatantly obvious, even though he's clearly trying to hide them. First he glowers at the disdain and cunning he sees on the Dane's features, and then it turns into a really buddy? fuck you, I got this smirk. "Sure, man," he says with an unpleasant sort of grin. "Let's see if we can scare your critter out." If there was an actual cat involved here? It would be absolutely the time to start worrying about its safety. Dan grabs his keys and saunters out, opens he truck, and hops in. Instead of popping the trunk, though, he jams the key in the ignition, and guns it, clearly intending to scare any potential cats so badly that they run for the hills and can never, ever be found.

It's a good thing that the Russian Blue does in fact not exist. It'd probably have had to have therapy for weeks if it did. And given that this is Gray Harbor, it is not at all impossible that right this second, some Veil creature empowers the idea of a terrified Russian Blue -- so if you find Dan in a dumpster, chewed to death by cats next week, don't blame Ravn. By now, he's used to that idea.

No cat appears, obviously, because no cat exists. That's fine as far as the Dane is concerned. He pretends concern and walks around the truck as if honest to god believing that maybe, just maybe that idiotic, non-existent cat is clinging to the underside of it in terror. He looks back at Dan and then under the truck again, and back up behind, and even cranes his neck to see if the cat is in the back seat, maybe.

It's all fine. Dan is laughing at him and patting himself on his meaty back that he just showed that idiot foreigner who's boss here, and the idiot foreigner in question is perfectly content with this status quo, seeing as that it keeps Dan busy.

The trick, of course, is to keep keeping Dan busy. Which is why, once the engine noise dies down and he can't quite go on pretending that he thinks the cat is in there any longer, Ravn looks regretfully at the other man and says, "I guess Mrs Marsh was right about you, sir. I did wonder why she'd say something like that."

Slipping inside the shed with Alexander Seth takes a look around, his eyebrow arching as he starts to see all the taxidermy. "Yeah...that ain't creepy or anything. No, this is perfectly normal." The enforcer's gaze follows Alexander's to the easel and he creeps closer to one of the paintings that have been turned towards the wall. "I"m letting you know right now Alexander if I turn this around and see some portrait of a kid in a horrible position or anything like that I am going to go all Rorchach on this guy...and I am not talking about the psychological test. I'm talking about the character from Watchmen. You're a nerd, I am sure you know who that is."

"That's the movie, right? With the weird costumes?" Alexander's brow furrows. "Something about a naked blue man? Sorry. I don't read or watch much fiction." His eyes scan the interior, brow furrowing in a way that HAS to hurt that broken nose of his. "If there's some horrible picture of a kid, I might let you. But it would be better to ensure he's arrested and imprisoned. Those sorts of things...there's always a network. Hard for independent investigators to uncover the whole damned thing." He's also reaching for a picture with his good, gloved hand, and turning it around.

Bright side: It's not a kid! But the paintings that Seth and Alexander turn over are grotesque. Purples, reds, strange slashes of white and yellow bisect and rip apart bodies of strange, animal/human hybrids. There's a feverish sort of obsession to the images, although they don't seem to feature any particular person or type of person. Alexander looks over a couple. "Well. I can see why he didn't want to share them with his wife. Will you place a few face up so I can get pictures?"

Meanwhile, Dan can't help the snicker as the engine revs. His face was take that written all over it. But, of course, no cat comes out. Dan kills the engine when it's clear no cat will come out, and his expression of sorrow is badly over-exaggerated. "Sorry, man. Guess I didn't have a cat in the engine after all." Then he stops. His eyes narrowed. "...what? What the fuck did Maddie say about me?"

And now, we are indeed in familiar territory for a hustler. Ravn cants his head and looks back towards the house that Maddie Marsh supposedly lives in. Then he looks back at Dan and very carefully allows his face to express the oh shit that anyone ought to be thinking in this situation, assuming that they were for real and had any idea who Maddie Marsh actually is.

Ravn looks Dan up and down as if measuring him with his eyes. Another little emotional show: My, you are big.

Only then does he say, sort of quietly, slightly awkwardly, "Look, I should probably not have said anything. She talked about things -- you know. The usual women stuff. Complaints. Your truck should be in the driveway, the engine makes too much noise, blah blah, you know how this story goes. It's just..."

He looks back towards that other house again.

And back to Dan, as if this is really quite awkward. "She talked a lot about how big your hands are. And that your eyes are very expressive. It felt a little... Intrusive? Made me a little uncomfortable? I don't suppose you think she might be the kind of woman who'd steal a cat, hoping that maybe... I don't know... That you'd come looking for it? Being neighbourly and all? A little desperate, maybe?"

Well not seeing a picture of a kid does put Seth's mind at ease for a brief second until the grotesque images that do appear on the canvas register in his brain. "What the fuck man. What is this guy on? Do you think this is dream shit or just some normal abnormal psychosis?"

The enforcer shakes his head, starting to turn around some of the pictures to face front, turning his face towards the sound of a revving engine out front. "I really hope that Darth is managing his end of things ok. I don't really like not having eyes or ears on him. Next time, if there is a next time, we get earpieces at the very least so we can keep in communication. We have no way of knowing if or when this dude might be on his way back here."

Seth looks Alexander dead in the eye, "IF he comes back here...well...let's just hope he doesn't."

"Seth, we're not punching a guy for having a macabre artistic bent," Alexander murmurs. "Let me handle it if he appears. I don't like...altering people. But I can. And I think Ravn will be fine. He's smart. If it was going bad, he'd disengage and text us." Did they arrange that? No. But Alexander has faith in people! This may be why he gets the shit kicked out of him on a regular basis. He frowns at the paintings. "I don't...um...let me see what's going on with it." He takes a couple of pictures first, awkwardly holding his phone in one hand and careful to keep himself and Seth out of the pictures. Then he puts the phone away, and reaches reaches for the nearest painting, running his fingers across the top of the canvas. He recoils with a hiss, like it's hot. "Fuck." He shakes his head. "Definitely Dream shit. Let's put these back and get the fuck out of here."

Meanwhile, Dan is just staring at Ravn with a slowly dawning horror. "The hell? Why would she steal your cat to make me look for it? And...are you saying that she was talking me up?" His nose wrinkles like he just smelled something terrible. But, in the next moment, as there's a ripple of power from the rear of the house, the expression turns to confusion. He turns around, looking towards the back of the house, his head swivling from one side to the other, a man trying to catch a melody he doesn't quite know. He does, for the record, Glimmer, although it's only a flickering here and there. "You hear that?"

Ravn is pretty on level with the other man as far as the shine is concerned -- two drops in a very large bucket doesn't fill anything up. His head swivels as well, and he turns his gaze towards the woodland behind the house. "I did. Yeah. Mister, no offence, but the way that sounded? I'm almost more comfortable with the idea of Mrs Marsh getting her jollies thinking about your big hands and for some fucking reason thinking I want to know about it, than I am with the idea of some giant elk or whatever you have here, coming running out of your yard in a moment. You might, like, maybe we should go see if there's a pack of wolves in your cabbage patch or something."

"I didn't say anything about punching," the enforcer says in a monotone voice, "and it wouldn't be because of his paintings. But what the paintings do show me is that the guy isn't entirely stable. Stable people don't paint shit like this...but yes, let us get out of here before we have to test any theories about how to handle things. I would at least give you a shot to 'change his mind' before I took action though, so you would have at least a chance."

After Alexander is done taking the pictures, Seth starts to put the paintings back where he found them, making little noises of disgust as he looks at some of them in detail as he slips them back to where he thinks they should go. "Man, this guy is really twisted. I bet you if we kept poking around in here there is a freezer full of dead animals, and not ones that were hunted either. I guarantee you someone is missing a cat or two."

Alexander grimaces. "He...yes. There are things wrong with him," is all he says, at least here and now. He checks to make sure the paintings are back as close as they can manage to where they're supposed to be, and then he steps out of the shed, waving for Seth to go so he can close and lock the door behind them. A flicker of a smile at Seth giving him a chance. "Thanks. I mean it."

Dan continues to frown at the direction of the back yard. He grunts at the idea that there might be something back there. "Yeah. Better check." He starts heading around the house, stopping along the way to grab a shovel that's propped up on one wall. It looks like it's been used recently, although there aren't any obvious holes in the lawn. He doesn't invite Ravn to come along, but on the other hand, he didn't demand the Dane get the hell off his land, either. That's sort of like an invitation!

Ravn is more than happy to saunter along -- in part because this means he can talk loudly enough to give clear warning that they are coming around, and because he can attempt to steer Dan away from the shed for at least some time. He's a distraction -- and as distractions go, he's pretty experienced. There comes a point where the mark starts to zone out the rapid-fire accented babble, though. Ravn knows this.

That's where you switch to visual cues. Such as saying, "Oh, is that supposed to be there" and bending down to pick up -- the keys you just lifted from the guy's pocket.

"Sir, are these yours?" He holds the keyring up in front of the other man, attempting to guide Dan around so that his back is turned. Ravn himself definitely does not see the two other men sneaking out of that shed -- because if he did, his eyes would follow them for just long enough that an alert mark might pick up on the cue. He sees nothing, a conscious choice -- nothing but the other man. Dan is the most important thing in the universe right now, there is a cat-eating bear in that wood, and really, dropping your keys all over the place is very clumsy.

"Yeah...not entirely sure the guy deserves one, but you do." the enforcer says as he stalks back towards the tree line. Not following his own advice, the redhead turns his head to look over at Alexander as he talks and promptly steps on a dry twig. The snap isn't loud, all things considered, but in the silence, the snap seems to echo against the walls of the house. Seth's mutters a barely audible "Fuck..." as his eyes go a bit wide, motioning for Alexander to hurry towards the treeline. "Go..go."

"You judge pretty quickly," Alexander says to Seth. But he still looks oddly pleased at the...trust? Extended. He freezes when that twig goes off, and then hurries on into the tree line as Seth motions him. As soon as he gets there, though, he turns and scoops up a large pinecone, prepared to throw it as a distraction as the loud voices start to round the corner.

It's not needed. Ravn's gambit pays off. Dan turns and his eyes widen at the sight of his keys in Ravn's hands. "How the hell did I drop those?" he mutters, and reaches out to snatch them back. It's close enough that Alexander and Seth can see Dan's back, turned to them as he retrieves them and stares at them in confusion. "Fuck. I never drop my keys. Thanks. Uh. Sorry about that trick with the engine." A sudden attack of conscience.

And Alexander motions for Seth to keep moving, so that they can get the hell out of there, already fumbling out his phone to send a quick text to Ravn as soon as the two have disappeared back into the underbrush.

"No problem, sir -- at least they weren't found by Mrs Marsh?" Ravn cannot resist. He does feel a little bad for Mrs Marsh -- whoever she is -- but on the other hand, he's also pretty certain that if Mrs Marsh can be counted among Decent People, then the odds of any friendly relations between her and this rather over-sized specimen of small-town Americana are nigh non-existent anyway. The Dane is no mind reader but he has some experience with the kind of cold reading that you do in his (former) business, and Dan? Dan is a big, strong jerk who relies on his fists, his paranoia, and probably his red baseball cap.

Or maybe he's a shy, sensitive soul who's badly misunderstood and deserves no such harsh judgement from some foreigner from abroad.

It's just not very likely.

Ravn is no scrapper, but he feels quite safe walking along with the other man into the woods. A hustle needs to be followed through to the end. He is Dan's ally against the elk moose cat eating bear, and they are going to go see if it's still there. Because that way, Dan is going to remember that some guy with a weirdass colourful scarf got told that his cat might be in Dan's truck but the important part was that the weirdo also heard that thing and went looking for it too. Which in turn may confirm to Dan that Dan is not crazy, but as far as Ravn is concerned, means that Dan aren't likely to give two flying figs about him, because Ravn is not important. The fact that there is an elk moose cat eating bear on Dan's property and that his neighbour thinks he's sexy -- those things are important.

Seth follows Alexander into the woods being much more cautious of where he steps, waiting until they are out of earshot before he continues the conversation, "I have to. In a situation like that snap judgments are what keep people like us alive...yourself included Alexander, though I will concur that sometimes it may be rash and can be prone to mistakes."

Getting back to the meeting spot, the enforcer strips off his gloves and places them into his pocket, "You can't tell me that guy wasn't creepy though."

"Sometimes," Alexander says, keeping his voice low as they slip through the woods. It's not a long walk before they're completely obscured, and he can relax a little bit. Just a little; whatever he saw in the painting has clearly rattled him. "And yes. I can make snap judgments. When needed. And sometimes when not. It's survival." He gives Seth a sidelong look as the car comes into sight. "But it's not part of the job to hurt people. Usually. Not this job. Thank you, though. And I don't...know that you made a mistake. He has Dreams. Not. Like ours, where we get Lost. They call him, and he goes. He enjoys what he does there. The paintings are his trophies. But the people he hurts...aren't real. Probably. They probably want him to need to move to real people, though."

He keeps his singular glove on, like the worst Michael Jackson cosplayer in history, but the fingers nervously flicker and dance as he turns his eyes in the direction of Ravn wandering, even though he obviously can't see the Dane or Dan. "I don't know what to do about that. It's not illegal. Yet. A lot of people in Gray Harbor have that kind of darkness inside of them."

"What are you telling me, Alexander." the enforcer says in a cold tone, his voice lowering as he shifts his eyes over to meet the private investigators. "Are you telling me that this guy is a serial killer waiting to happen because that is what is certainly sounds like you are telling me." Seth turns his head to look back towards the way they came, through the woods to Dan's house. "Because if that is what you are telling me, we can't let his wife stay there can we? Would that be responsible for us? If that is what you are telling me, Dan needs to go away before he crosses over that line. Because if he crosses that line, and there is something we could have done about it?"

Seth falls quiet, looking down at the gravel that makes up the road, "I know what you are thinking. I do. Pot, kettle right?"

The cold tone immediately makes Alexander's spine stiffen; it's not even a conscious decision, just an instinctive reaction to the normally easy-going enforcer's change in demeanor. He watches Seth like he's someone dangerous. Because he is. "It's a possibility," he admits. "It's not...it's not a guarantee. We don't know if the guy even realizes what's happening is actually happening, and not just dreams."

And yet. He blows out a breath, and winces as Seth gets to the heart of the matter. "If he crosses it, and we didn't do something, then we're partially responsible." His good hand moves to touch his broken fingers, briefly, lightly. Then his eyes widen, slightly. "No. Not what-- you're not like that. You're not someone who enjoys hurting people. That's hard to hide for long. You would have hurt Ravn, or me, in the ring. I was expecting you to," he admits. "But you didn't. You fought, but you didn't hurt. Even when provoked. I noticed." He turns his eyes back towards the house hidden in the trees. "I'll give the pictures to the wife. And then...would you be willing to meet again? You and Ravn? We might be able to turn him away. Not. Not make him a better person. But make him fear the Dreams rather than savor them."

Seth continues to stare in the direction of the house, quiet in his own mental contemplations for a long time before he finally lets out a sigh through his nose, turning to face Alexander once again. "As I told you earlier, I am not a sociopath. That guy I am not so sure about. I don't know as much about this dream stuff as you do, so maybe it is just him being manipulated. Maybe there is a way to turn him away from that path...but those pictures man. Those were not the drawings of someone with a grasp on reality."

The enforcer folds his arms over his chest, returning his gaze to the house in the distance. "Alexander...if you give those photos to her, and she confronts him with them...there is no doubt in my mind he will kill her. You would be better off lying to her and telling her everything was normal, or telling her he has a mistress and she needs to go stay at her parent's house, or something...but you need to get her out of there."

"Sadism is different from sociopathy," Alexander says, apparently unable to resist the need to correct it. "You could be one without being the other." He looks like he immediately regrets extending the offer after he does, but Seth has a good point - several of them, in fact, that make Alexander's expression twist. "It's not...sometimes you can not have the same grasp on reality as other people and it doesn't make you bad," he mutters, with the defensive air of someone who's had that particular accusation hurled at him before. And not without reason.

He runs his good hand through his hair, and sighs. "Yeah. I will. I'm not good at lying. But I can make sure she finds somewhere else to stay for a bit." He sighs. "And I'll...fix it. Somehow. Oh, um." He pats at the jacket, finds his wallet, and fishes out a couple of bills, folding them and offering them to Seth. "Thank you. For the help. It...I appreciated it." He offers a tentative smile.

Seth waves his hand dismissively. "Keep your money man. You asked for help, I helped. That is what friends do. If by some sense of obligation you feel the burning desire to pay me, then use the money to buy the wife a hotel room or something for the next night or two. If it isn't enough, let me know and I will help out."

"Sadist, sociopath, whichever. I'm neither...at least I like to think I'm not. Maybe I am? Would I know if I was? Everyone sees what you appear to be, few really know what you are. Including yourself most of the time."

Seth continues to stare at the house, whatever is bothering him about the whole thing keeping his attention more than the conversation at hand before he finally looks back over to the PI. "Sorry, you asked me if I would meet you again? Yeah, sure. I don't think I am going to rest easy until I know how this resolves itself anyhow. Might as well be on the front line to see."

There's a moment where Alexander's jaw sets, and he looks like he's going to get stubborn and argue about it, and then as the hotel room is mentioned, he takes a breath, nods, and puts the money away. "All right. And no. I don't think you are either. You would probably know. At least for sadism. If hurting people gives you a thrill - like a real thrill - then you might be. I don't know that sociopaths are always self-aware. I don't think they are."

He follows Seth's look back at the house. "There's a lot of bad, here. But we can probably do something about this one." He doesn't try to reach out to the enforcer, but his voice turns reassuring. "It'll be okay. I'll give you both a call. We'll meet somewhere and talk about it. If Ravn wants, as well. I mean. I'm not going to draft him or anything." A quick sort of smile. "We can go when Ravn gets back. Probably shouldn't hang around."