2020-12-31 - The witch is dead?

(TXT to Seth) Ravn : I need to talk to somebody. About things you can't talk about on a phone. And the somebody most likely to tell me how the hell to deal is you. Got time?

(TXT to Ravn) Seth : Sure thing. My place, or somewhere else.

And do I need to bring anything?

(TXT to Seth) Ravn : I'll be right over. Need some technical advice and I think I need to scream a bit.

(TXT to Ravn) Seth : Ok. I'm here. There's beer.

Ravn didn't walk this time. His rented car -- a non-descript silver-grey family car no one would notice anywhere ever -- pulls up and he heads up to knock on the door. From the looks of him he's not about to fall over dead, nor is he on fire. But his steps are fast and he's got the expression of a guy who just watched a trainwreck. Not the kind that happens when your parents announce their impending divorce -- the kind that needs ambulances and clean-up crews. His hair is wet like he just showered, and he's clearly in a hurry.

Seth, for his part, is standing outside on the porch of his home waiting for the Dane to arrive. In his left hand, he holds a beer which he sips at, his right arm tucked across his chest and under his left arm. As the Dane pulls up and exits the car, the enforcer watches intently glancing from Ravn to the street and back as he checks to make sure that there isn't someone that might have followed the Dane unknowingly or not. Satisfied, Seth motions inside with his head, "Come on." and pushes off his perch on the wall the right arm falls, and the now visible automatic in his right-hand falls to the enforcer's side.

"Want a beer?"

"Fuck yes." Ravn nods fervently and follows the other man inside, looking anything but calm.

When the door shuts he shrugs out of his coat -- which now sports not just that gash on the sleeve that it acquired from the meat cleaver at the flesh factory but also a few new interesting cuts and tears -- and falls ungracefully into a chair. "I've been in bad dreams before. Seen people die before. Seen you blow the head right off that dog man thing in that bizarre power fantasy of Dan the Serial Killer in the Making. And you stayed cool about it. I need some of that cool."

Once inside, Seth turns to the wall-mounted shelf by the front door and rearranges the decor on top of the shelf. The bottom of the shelf drops down slowly on some hydraulic system revealing a hidden gun cache, one where he slips the automatic inside before shutting with a soft click. "Bad night, huh?" the enforcer asks quietly as he makes his way into the kitchen to retrieve another beer for Ravn, using a church key to pop the top before joining the Dane in the living room and passing it over.

"That cool comes with experience and probably a loss of a piece of your soul," Seth explains honestly. "It requires being able to just flick a switch and turn off the part of your brain that wants scream, that wants to run and hide from the horrors you are about to see or commit. You sure you want that, Ravn? "

"Starting to think I already turned that part off. Or that it was never turned on in the first place." Ravn accepts the beer gratefully. "I've always been weird like that. Put me in a room with six people looking at me and I'm one step from a nervous breakdown. Violence? It happens. I'm not a violent man but the times I've freaked out in dreams have not been because somebody got chewed on or stabbed. I freak out because I can't stop other people from getting chewed on. This, though."

He shudders. "I had a bad one. If it'd been real, the Black Bear Diner would need to close down for a month for clean-up and repairs, it was a mess. But that's not the part that bothers me, that it got messy. Castro was there, and Rosencrantz, and Røn -- I know you've met at least two of those." He pronounces Roen's name in a decidedly Scandinavian fashion -- one syllable, rather than the anglophonic ro-enn. "Somebody turned up from my past -- my ex who incidentally is five years fucking dead. And she tried to kill us. Castro, Rosencrantz and Røn are the wrong bloody people to try that on -- they tore her to shreds. And that's the part I'm having a hard time with. That the only thing I feel like is singing ding dong, the witch is dead."

"Itz I know," Seth says with a nod. "The others, not so much. I mean I met Castro once, or twice maybe, but that is about it. I don't know if I have ever met this...Ron guy? Maybe I have and I just don't recall. It's not a big town." Taking a seat in a chair across from Ravn, Seth leans back into it and takes a sip from his beer as Ravn explains. When the Dane finishes his story, Seth wrinkles up his nose a little and nods. "Sounds rough, but what about that reaction is bothering you? From what I have been told by you, you and she were breaking up at the time, and it was 5 years ago. On top of that, you yourself have said that the ghosts here aren't 'real', that they are just manifestations of the Veil fucking with us unless I misunderstood? So, if that is the case, then this wasn't even the real ghost of your ex. Just one of those things no more real than the dog-faced things I shot."

Seth shrugs, sipping his beer. "And if this was the actual ghost of your ex, a manifestation of a memory that chased you halfway across the world mind you, I can't see why you wouldn't be happy about its destruction. No more having to run, or look over your shoulder. I wouldn't berate you for having some sense of relief over its departure."

"This is why I'm talking to you," Ravn murmurs. "Because I knew you'd be pragmatic about it. I need pragmatic, not ethics. I don't know if she was real. Any other time I'd say, definitely not. The Veil plucks things out of our minds and throws them at us for shit and giggles. Might be what happened here too -- except that this is a very big part of why I got on the road in the first place. Her, turning up at my house, hammering on the door, demanding I come out and take responsibility for getting her killed. After a couple of months of that, I couldn't take it anymore, and I ended up trying to off myself out of guilt and lack of sleep."

He smiles wryly. "Her death wasn't my fault. She killed her own bloody self, driving drunk, I think I've said. But she certainly blamed me for it, and I knew that she wouldn't stop following me. I kept travelling, to stay ahead. That's not the only reason I kept moving on -- but it's a very big part of it. I feel like I should feel sorry. Pity at the very least? I should feel guilty? But I don't. If it wasn't real, then it doesn't matter. If it was real -- then I'm a bit ashamed to say that watching those three people tear her to bloody shreds was probably one of the greatest things I've seen in my life. I don't think we're supposed to like watching things or people get hurt. When you blew the brains out on that dog creature, you did it because it was something that had to go. Nice and clean."

"She has been haunting you for what? 5 years? For something that you didn't do and had no control over?" Seth says after taking a sip of his beer. "I don't have any reason to think that feeling relief, or even joy, at the torment coming to an end a bad thing. You have taken the steps to put down roots here in Gray Haven, maybe it is even poetic that the reason you were running in the first place has been ended here."

Seth takes another sip, rolling his shoulders into a shrug, "I did what I did because it needed to be done. It was life or death. Those decisions come easy, and I think had you the means you likely would have done the same damn thing in the same circumstance. I didn't take any joy in it, and because of you and Alexander, I didn't really see those things as being 'real' anyway. It was like shooting at a paper target to me. Dan might have been a different story, but it didn't come down to that. But, to be honest, I wouldn't have hesitated in the slightest if I needed to pull the trigger on him as well. I'm...not nice...when I am in business mode, but that is what keeps me alive."

"And that's why you needed to be part of dealing with Dan." Ravn hitches a shoulder. "Alexander and I could not do what needed to be done, if it'd come to that. If it comes to that -- there's no guarantee he might not backslide and if he does, I for one am not going to tell you he's not dangerous. The man put a meat cleaver in my arm and I got enough of a look at his eyes to tell that he enjoyed it. I have all kinds of objections to violence and murder but the rules don't apply here, not to the dreams. Not to dead things that come out of the sea and go for Castro because she was guilty of being female and within five metres' distance of me."

"You? No. No offense. Alexander, I'm not so sure. I think if it came down to it he might be able to. He surprised me that day we sparred. I didn't expect to have that much potential. I think if the right situation demanded it, he could do what needed to be done. He may hate himself after and it might forever fuck him up, but I think he could do it." Seth replies, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other. "But yes, the rules kind of go out the window when you have dog-faced things and ghosts. I don't think there are any laws protecting them that need to be worried about. I don't think de la Vega is going to come knocking on my door over that."

"But as far as your reaction to this? I think it is justified. The very fact that you are worried that you had this reaction proves to me that you are still in the right headspace. If you weren't concerned about expressing joy over it, then that might be cause for alarm."

Ravn seems to consider that for a moment, and then nods. "That's a fair point. I honestly don't think I could kill someone -- unless it was a matter of preventing them from killing someone else. Not sure what my take there would be. I surprised myself a little, with how willing I was to accept the idea that your solution for Dan might in fact be the right solution. I don't think of myself of someone who's willing to be judge, jury, or indeed, executioner -- but the rules are different here. It's not the law I'm worried about. The law is for living human beings, not for the kind of shit that the Veil throws at us."

He sips his beer. "I'm just going to appreciate that when some dog-faced Veil construct wants to eat my face, you have something else for it to chew on. Pacifism is all well and good, but pacifism didn't keep Europe from being overrun by the Nazis."

"People do drastic things in a life and death situation. I have a feeling that if your life was on the line you might be able to. Let's hope that you never run into the situation where that has to be put to the test," Seth says with a nod. "There is absolutely nothing wrong with having a decent moral compass. Just because mine might be a bit wonky at times, doesn't mean I don't respect yours, or Alexander's. Maybe that is why I am having out with you two, hoping it might rub off. Who knows."

Seth smirks with a shrug as he lifts his bottle to his lips once again, "So, ghost ex tried to eat Gina huh? I guess she was the jealous type?"

"Oh god, you have no idea. That's one of the things we fell out over." Ravn makes a face. "She wasn't like that at first. But over time she convinced herself that I was constantly being chased by other women, and that she had to fend them off. You know me -- I'm not exactly Don Lothario. I can't think of anything much more embarrassing than have to half drag my fiancee out of the room before she clawed some unfortunate girl's face off for looking in the direction that I happened to be in at the time."

He shrugs. "Castro was actually telling me off at the time. As she will -- you know how she is. In the dream I was asking her something and she was being her usual mocking self. She's about as flirtatious as your average gecko."

"Well, to be fair you are a good looking guy," Seth says with a shrug of his shoulder. "You may not be the Don whoever type, but I could see how you would be attractive. I am going to assume that women, or men, weren't actually chasing you though? It was all unfounded worry on her part? Yeah, I can see how that would be problematic. It sounds like she became someone else during the course of things? Or was it who she was, and it just came to light after the fact? How did you hook up with her in the first place?

"I'm really not someone who gives out that come hither vibe, no." Ravn shakes his head and relaxes a little; perhaps on some level he did need that 'permission' to not feel bad. A therapist might have had a few things to say about that -- and probably about getting it from a mob hitman as well -- but what's done is done, and he seems at least to feel better about it. "I think it was more about -- me being a good catch. She got there first, and she was not giving it up. It wasn't really about me at all. As for how? Lonely introvert bloke meets attractive woman who acts like he's the most interesting thing in the universe. Nothing new under the stars."

"No common interests? Just 'you looked good so she must have you'? Yeah, that isn't a basis for a relationship that is going to work out. I'm surprised it got to the point of engagement if that is all there was." Seth continues. "Or is that just how it started? I mean there must have been something you saw in her to ask her to marry you. People don't tend to get married based on looks alone. At the very least it comes down to money."

Seth shrugs a shoulder, reaching up and rubbing at the scruff on his face. "In any case, I am sorry she died, and you had to go through that. It couldn't have been easy. And then to have to deal with a ghost on top of it, I don't blame you for running. I certainly don't blame you for being happy it's finally over."

"Long story. Not going to bore you to tears with the lot of it. She was in love with my family's position and I was in love with someone female noticing me. It was bound to go bad, and it did." Ravn glances back to the wall where there was absolutely no hidden gun rack, no sirree. "But for what it's worth, Seth? Thanks for -- well, being ready to have my back when I text you randomly screaming about dead people coming back. I think I need to... pretty much drink myself senseless three nights in a row, shrug, and move on? Something like that. And if this was a Veil construct and the real deal turns up some day, at least I know what to do about it."

"Yeah, no problem, At least you know that if that wasn't just a veil thing you have people to back you up. Though from what you have told me a 'real' ghost can't hurt you?" says Seth as he watches Ravn's eyes move over to the shelf hiding the hidden gun cache.

The enforcer laughs, grinning, "That isn't the only one...I'll be installing at least one into Vic's place as well."

"Real ghosts usually don't want to hurt you -- or do much else. The very vast majority I've met are blissfully unaware that anyone else exists, and barring my ex, the rest were not very interested, or just sort of polite about it. I guess those stories of vengeful ghosts don't happen out of nowhere, though -- I've just never encountered anything like that before. Most of the time I don't even realise that someone is a ghost unless they're literally walking around in a medieval doublet. I had no idea about Kelly's mum until Kelly himself told me. I did think the bruises were a little odd, but you know, accidents happen." Ravn cants his head. "And honestly, who'd screw with Joey Kelly's mum. You've seen the fists on that man."

"So not at all translucent, floating, and glowy like in Ghostbusters. Good to know." Seth says with a nod of his head. "I've never seen Ma Kelly, but I will take your word for it. I guess my version of this whatever it is we have isn't that type, or I just have never been around when she has been. Though, that would be a little disturbing, having your dead mother around all the time? For me anyway, I wouldn't want her hanging around."

"I'd call an exorcist." Ravn shudders. "But it seems to work out for them. I guess Kelly and his fiancee are used to it. Vic certainly didn't seem very bothered either, kept arguing with her about whether to put a jacket on or not. This is just... Gray Harbor, I guess. If I think back about the things I've seen here since I came in in August, it sounds like the rantings of a madman. Don't even need to add the supernatural; just the people I know, for one. Not sure which I'd have considered the most unlikely, six months ago, out of you or de la Vega, but there you go."

He looks up at the other man thoughtfully. "That's probably a greater challenge in this town, to be honest. The whole keeping track of who you can talk to about what, and when you need to keep quiet and when not -- in order for us all to not end up getting played against each other by the bloody Veil."

"From what I understand, if people don't have...whatever it is. Shine? Glimmer? It doesn't matter what you tell them, they just 'forget' or brush it all off. If you are talking about people working for Them, well then ya I guess so. Other than Dan, I don't know of anyone that has worked for them, but I think you mentioned it at one point so there must be others. That disturbs me." exclaims Seth with a shudder. "

"As far as knowing me, or de la Vega, it's a small town. I get the feeling that most everyone gets to know everyone sooner or later. At least those of us with the power."

"Yeah. Word gets around. We run into each other a lot, it's a small town. People rub elbows, people fall in and out of love, people get into fights. People storm out of New Years' parties -- and no, I have no idea what that was about either, but it's the sort of thing that the Veil can pounce on." Ravn fiddles with his beer. "Okay, hypothetical scenario. Which I feel safe in proposing because you know there's nothing like that between Vic and me. But let's say for the sake of argument that there was. And you guys announce at some point that you're a thing now. I blow my lid, get pissed off, whatever people do. And then we get hauled into a dream together, where I'm the guy who has the gun and you're the guy who's about to get eaten by Godzilla. Do I shoot? Or do I hold my fire just that second too long, and go home to console the girl? See what I'm getting at? It's bloody important that we try to keep things... civilised."

Seth leans back and his chair and crosses his legs over one another, "Interesting question, and one I really don't have an answer for. My personal take on it would be to save you because two people in a fight are better than one, and if we are at that time on the same side of things it would be stupid to put yourself at that kind of disadvantage. But I do see the opportunity."

"Yeah, I get the need to keep things civilized. Things in the Harbor are weird enough without everyone at each other's throats all the time. We have enough issues with the thing from another world, but unfortunately, the world doesn't stop for us either. Not everyone is affected by these things, and they are the ones that end up pushing on us here in the 'real world'. People like m are fighting a war on two fronts at times it seems. "

"Yeah, you are. Everyone is. You're involved with some things I don't want to know about, obviously. And so are a lot of other people. The police is caught up between people like you and the Veil. And regular folks are caught between mortgages, relationship drama -- Gray Harbor being Gray Harbor. The friend who went to Denmark with me is caught in a family feud that goes a hundred and fifty years back -- and Alexander's on the other side of it. We just have to try to find ways that work. Keep our priorities straight. Know which officers on the force you actually can tell that Cthulhu came knocking, which EMTs will believe you when you say that you got burned by dragon fire."

"Ok, maybe a three-front war then," says Seth with a sigh. "You are right, you don't want to know details, but it isn't just cowboys vs Indians. It's cowboys vs one tube of Indians vs another tribe of Indians vs aliens, etcetera. I miss the days when things were just black and white. It made things easier. You knew who was the guy you were supposed to worry about. Be glad you are not involved in this stuff, Ravn. At times I wish I wasn't. You are not wrong about knowing who to be able to go to though. Being able to 'see' the light so to speak at least helps in that regard."

"I know enough to know that I don't want to be, and I don't imagine that you woke up one morning and told yourself, hey, I want to be Uncle Felix' heavy, either." Ravn rests one leg across the other, relaxing. "It's never just black and white. Some of the blokes I used to travel with had done time -- some of them had done a lot of time. You'd stay a while with some big burly guy who cooked Italian food and gave piggyback rides to his daughter and then find out that he breaks kneecaps for the local biker gang on weekends. You learn to not ask what's in the bag that gets dropped off, or why some guy is using his cousin's ID and driver's license. But they're not bad people. They didn't wake up and say, hey, we want to grow up in a shitty part of town or in an ethnic group that gets chased from one country to another, either."

"Cousin." corrects Seth, "He is my cousin, not my uncle. Not really a big difference int he grand scheme of things, but might as well get it right."

Seth takes a sip from his beer before setting the bottle onto a coaster over on the table. "But you're right. It wasn't something I asked for, I was brought in because I was family. I used to just do odd jobs. I was a mechanic for a while in Seattle, I was a line cook, I've done general warehouse work, and now I do lighting tech at the club. Not the most glamorous of jobs, but I find some sense of peace with it as odd as it may seem. Programing lights to react with music is just soothing in a weird way."

Things that no doubt bewilder the Elm community: Why Alexander Clayton, of all people, has been seen at Seth Monaghan's place, without someone getting the shit kicked out of them, or arrested. But here he is, again, slouching his way like a homeless person up to the door, and knocking on it. He glances at the rental car in the driveway. He doesn't recognize it, so there's a certain level of tension in his expression as he steps back to allow the camera to see him.

Then again, it's Alexander, so 'tense' is his default. So is 'underslept', and both seem to be in full effect at the moment.

"Well, I like to rub a bow made from catgut across strings just to make pleasing noises, I can relate somewhat." Ravn smiles lightly. "We don't pick our family or the obligations they place on us. I suppose that at some point we become adults and have to take responsibility for our choices, but it's a lot harder than it sounds like, turning your back on family. Not to mention that they may have all kinds of holds on you that you can't just step away from." It's possible that he was going to say more, but then someone knocked on the door, and at least Ravn didn't order pizza.

The knocking on the door has Seth arching a brow as he stands up from his chair. "Excuse me. Stay here." the enforcer says to Ravn in a tone that borders on more of a command than a suggestion. Seth makes his way down the hall towards the front door, and apparently he isn't expecting anyone since he stops by that hidden gun cache, opens it by maneuvering some of the decor that sits on the shelf, and removes the automatic, placing it down against his right side as the thumbs off the safety.

Seth soundlessly peeks through the peephole, then flicks the safety back on the gun before unlocking the front door. "Alexander. Ravn's here, come on in. Close and lock the door behind you."

Seth replaces the gun in the cache and closes it, making his way back to his seat, "Feel free to grab a beer if you like, they are in the fridge."

"Yeah, sometimes family is a pain that way..." he says to Ravn as he retakes his seat, "But it's family."

"Is this a bad time?" Alexander starts, then goes, "Oh," when it's mentioned Ravn's already here. A pleased smile flickers to life on his face - which then shuts off when he notices the gun. He doesn't comment on it, at least, just sidles inside like a dog unsure of its welcome, and closes (and locks) the door behind him. A shake of his head at the offer of a beer. "I'm good. But thanks." The enforcer is included in the faint smile, before he nods at Ravn. "Your car?" He thumbs towards the unseen vehicle as he finds a seat to fold himself into. "Also, hi. I should have started with hi."

Ravn raises his beer can in a lazy salute. "Well, the one I rent, anyhow. Hi Clayton. I usually walk but I was a bit out of it. What's up?"

"Nah, it's fine. Ravn and I were just talking. Apparently his ex came to visit." Seth explains, getting himself comfortable again. "What brings you by?"

Alexander blinks. "I thought your ex was dead," he says. Then grimaces. "Not that it precludes her from showing back up. You've mentioned ghosts before. Is she...here?" He looks around like he might suddenly see the mysterious woman raiding Seth's beer stash or something. To Seth, he says, "I was just," a pause, "I was going to ask if you'd seen anyone odd in the neighborhood, recently. And ask you to keep an eye out. It's not terribly important."

"She was here. Well, at the Black Bear, in a dream," Ravn murmurs with a wince. "And then she made the mistake of attacking Castro, Rosencrantz and Røn. There wasn't enough left of her to fill a mason jar, I swear. I don't know if she was the real deal or just some construct that the Veil cooked up in order to terrify me, but -- mission accomplished."

He pauses and then studies Alexander's face. "Wait. Coming from you of all people, that's somewhat ominous. Are we talking about Dan, or a new complication?"

"I haven't noticed anything, no," answers Seth as he looks over to Alexander with a look of concern. "What do I need to know? What's going on?"

Alexander's eyebrows go up, but he says, without hesitation, "Construct. Nothing's real when you get Lost. The Veil itself...it's variable, I think. Depends on if you think anything over there is really real. But Dreams are just things made to drive you crazy and make you hurt. Was anyone hurt? Are you okay?"

Regarding the rest, he looks uncomfortable, and shrugs. "Not Dan. Someone might be killing a group of people I and Isolde used to be affiliated with. Ran into one when we went up to Seattle. Now she's dead. Some other suspicious suicides and accidental deaths, as well. It might not be a person. But I like to rule out the mundane before leaping to the supernatural, when it's relevant."

"Rosencrantz got clawed up some but he's not in hospital," Ravn confirms. "And my ex certainly got hurt. A lot. She was all over the place when they were done, and I mean that in the very literal sense. If she wasn't the real thing, then the real thing is probably going to turn up some day too, and when she does, I hope for a repeat performance."

He leans back a little on his chair, seeming perhaps more composed than one might expect from a man who's just described the idea of a woman being torn to shreds. "When you say group of people, what kind of group are you talking about? Suspicious suicides and accidental deaths do not sound like good news. I guess it's normal in Gray Harbor to assume that it's Cthulhu come knocking but there's all kinds of other bad news out there, waiting to happen. How do we help?"

Alexander frowns. "He needs to learn to fucking duck," he mutters, but the fondness is clear in his tone. As is the worry. "Wasn't your ex. Just a bunch of dreamstuff that has a familiar face in hopes that it would hurt you more." He peers at Ravn as he says he hopes for a repeat performance, then smiles a little. "I see." He clears his throat. "A cult I was in during college. Honestly, it was mostly an excuse to do drugs, paint each other's naked bodies with 'occult' symbols, and have lots of sex. But there was an inner circle, of sorts. Seems someone might be killing them off over an antique copy of the Key of Solomon. Stolen from the University." He huffs.

"I have two major issues with that," Ravn murmurs. "One, stealing from universities pisses me off. Second, and maybe a bit more important in this context -- the Key of Solomon is a rather big deal. It's the basis of a surprisingly large amount of our Western folklore where magical rituals and socalled 'black magic' is concerned, regardless of the fact that it's actually more of a philosophical guidebook. It's the sort of book that I can easily imagine someone going serial killer about because it would not be the first time that somebody did. Should we worry, Clayton?"

"Yeah," Alexander says. "This is one of the French manuscripts, too. Maybe 15th or 16th century? I'm not an archivist. Can't pin it down better than that. But the last victim sent it to me after we ran into her. Might have been the last thing she did. Isolde's trying to translate it, now. See if anything stands out as odd." He hesitates, then shakes his head. "Don't know. I guess it depends on what's going on. The deaths are all in places I don't have contacts or any way to take a look at official case files. I don't know even if all the victims had the book. If they did, it's possible someone's killing for it. Or the book itself is cursed. In which case, if I start acting weird, please toss me in a basement and destroy the damned thing."

Seth just watches the back and forth as the two scholarly like people discuss things that are a little over his head. Naked painted sex he can get behind, but ancient artifacts and the religion of some wacky cult just start to confuse him. "Why would you think I would see something around here though?" he asks Alexander. "Because you have been hanging around? Well, they will have picked the wrong house to mess with if they come in here."

"... Right." Because Clayton acting weird is about as rare as Ravn acting anxious. The folklorist decides to let that one past unaddressed for the moment. "I'm going to venture a guess that your copy is special, then, and not just by being old. The Key can be purchased from Amazon, delivered to your mailbox the day after. If your copy is worth killing for, was worth stealing, then it's either highly valuable, or there's something in it that you won't find in a reprint. Margin notes, maybe, or folio sheets added by somebody else."

He cants his head thoughtfully. "Or, because this is Gray Harbor, maybe it's just cursed, indeed. Either way, if there's anything I can do in terms of research or connecting you with academics, don't hesitate."

Alexander shakes his head at Seth. "Nah. Because if it is a person, they won't be town. And if these deaths are murder, they were planned at least enough to pass as suicides or accidents. So the victims were probably watched, and were across several states. Which means the perpetrator, if one exists, would have had to watch to develop at least enough idea of their schedules to know when best to strike. I figured if there was someone who might be alert for people he doesn't recognize hanging out in places they're not supposed to be, it'd be you." He grins. "I'm keeping an eye out myself, but I just thought I'd ask."

A nod to Ravn. "That's what I figure, too. I have two copies of the Key at home, but they're both modern, English translations. This one, it is a valuable book, sure. But the group was mostly Classics scholars, and work with valuable books all the time. Isolde read something off it that suggests that our old friend, at least, thought it was the key to 'good things' happening to the cult members." He chuckles. "Do you know, after that, I did a bout of research, myself. Everyone who I can remember from the inner circle? Mostly grad students? They all got tenure track positions upon graduating. In Classics. Not a single fucking adjunct."

There comes a pounding on the door. Like some other people in town, Vic still knocks like a cop, with the side of her fist. Old habit that refuses to go away for her. At least she's knocking. She's wrapped up in a thick, cream-colored cableknit sweater under a battered old black wool coat, her hair in a bun, and jeans and boots completing the non-look as she watches her breath fog while waiting.

Seth nods once to Alexander. "I haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary, but I will certainly keep an eye out."

There is another knock at the door, and Seth stands up with a frown. "Apparently I am popular tonight, but I am not really expecting someone else. Stay here." Once again, the tone of voice is more command than a suggestion.

Seth once again makes his way to the front door, stopping long enough to retrieve his automatic from the hidden self cache, before peeking through the peephole once again. Seth's body language goes from tense to relaxed as he sees who it is, opening the door with a smile for a greeting. "Hey, Vic. Get your ass in here, it's cold outside."

Ravn gives a low, impressed whistle. "Not going to lie, that's pretty impressive. Usually need a combination of talent, elbow grease and knowing the right people at the right time, not to mention some actual work under your belt. Are you suggesting that this copy of the Key is more than a textbook, that the magic detailed in it actually works?"

He taps a gloved finger against his lip in the fashion that he usually does when his mind is racing on, three steps ahead of his mouth. "If it does, then I have a few concerns. Largely that the Key is the fundament for most Christian interpretations of Abrahamic occultism, but even more that its spells generally revolve around summoning and binding demons and the undead to your will. Neither of which you want running around your neighbourhood, I imagine."

The folklorist is entirely too busy thinking aloud to question Seth's right to issue commands; or perhaps he just doesn't have an issue with the idea in the first place. He upnods at Vic as she enters and then murmurs, "I think we're allowed to shoot the undead and the demons, right?"

Alexander nods to Seth. "Thanks. I appreciate it." He's about to say more, but then there's another knock at the door, and he grins. "You're a charismatic sort of guy, Seth. And throw a good party." He watches carefully as the man goes to answer his door, relaxing when he sees Seth relax. A smile for Vic when she enters, along with a little wave. "Hey." Then a nod to Ravn. "Yeah. It's statistically improbable, especially as the department wasn't particularly renowned, to my knowledge. As to whether this Key has functioning spells?" He sighs. "I don't know. I don't see any way to test that hypothesis other than, uh, try some? But that has its own perils, as you note."

"And we are definitely allowed to shoot, stab, or otherwise remove the undead and demons."

"No shit it's cold outside," Vic mutters, pausing to kiss Seth hello, not realizing there are other people here. "Got to go in to work in a bit and make sure things are set up for evening shift, but thought I'd swing by for a bit before then and we could..." oh shit there are other people here, "...uh, make dinner plans for later." She was so not coming over to make dinner plans. "Hey guys," she greets.

Ravn's lip curls up into a small, lopsided smile as he glances to Alexander and then back at Vic. "That's the problem with Seth," he says to her in a most conspiratorial fashion. "He lives way too nice. Should have kept him in the trailer and me here, then you'd have all the alone time you wanted."

Seth returns the kiss and chuckles, "We can certainly have dinner later. No problem, I'll cook. I've got a sous vide machine and some steaks raring to be bathed in hot water. Let me know when you plan on coming by and I will have a plate ready for you. Do you prefer asparagus, Brussels sprouts, or potatoes to go with your steak?"

The enforcer puts the gun away in the hidden shelf gun safe and makes his way back down the short hallway into the living room, slipping an arm around Vic's waist to give her a bit of a squeeze on the way by. "Alexander was just telling Ravn here about some magical key or something, from what I could understand. It's mostly over my head."

Alexander smiles. "You need us third and fourth wheels to drive away? Let you two enjoy some time together?" It's teasing, but also serious - never let it be said that Alexander doesn't know how to be a bro sometimes. He shakes his head. "The Key is a book. The Key of Solomon. One of the foundational texts of Western ceremonial occultism." He clears his throat. "It's just a thing. Not important."

"Keep feeding me like this and I'll be here all the time, like a stray," Vic threatens Seth. "Asparagus please. I wouldn't turn down potatoes as well though." She grins and moves to find a place to sit. "What's this conference about? Glad to see you made it back from your respective trips, boys. Everything go okay then?" She arches a brow regarding the book. "That sounds dangerous in a place like Gray Harbor, Alexander. And no, I do have to head to the Twofer in a wee bit, so you don't have to leave."

"The problematic part is not so much the dusty old book but the idea that somebody might decide to start summoning demons or raising the dead," Ravn agrees with Alexander. Then he nods and finishes the beer he's been holding all along. "My trip home got extended by a few days but it went well. Hyacinth Addington decided she wanted to come have an architectural experience, and I think it's safe to say that she's now in a tempestous love affair with an art school. In other news I should be good to stay around."

"I don't know if that is a threat or not Vic? I kind of enjoy your company, and cooking for two is much better than cooking for one. Asparagus and potatoes it is. I'll even bacon wrap them for you. The asparagus...not the potatoes because that would just be weird. Maybe? I may have to try that at some point." Seth says with a grin.

"Started of Ravn coming over to ask some advice because his dead ex came visiting and met an unfortunate, or fortunate, end at the Black Bear. Then Alexander showed up talking about this 'Key of Solomon', but I will admit most of that flew right over my head." Pause "Speaking of the Twofer, Ravn here suggested that I become your new bartender in training while you are watching over the place. If you want the company, I can swing over when I am not on shift at the Firefly. I guarantee you I am already better than when Ravn started. I at least know what 'neat' means." Seth grins over at the former-apprentice-bartender.

Alexander agrees with Ravn, "Terribly problematic. Demons are rarely polite. Sometimes the undead are okay. Easton's uncle was a zombie for a bit, and he seemed friendly. Little crazy. But friendly." He adds, in an undertone, "I still have trouble believing you want to stay around, but it's nice to have you here." He watches the banter between Vic and Seth with amusement. "It's good to acquire new skills."

Vic chuckles. "Easton hasn't given me hiring privileges, I fear. He's a bit less loosey goosey about things thank Bennie was while he was AWOL. Cavanaugh has been banned from the bar though, so there's a stool that could use a regular butt sitting in it." She winks. "Glad you're going to be here for a while though, Ravn. Worried for you, like I am for anyone in this town, but glad too. This town is one giant conflict of emotional interests." Her gaze moves to Alexander. "Hope you're securing that possibly dangerous zombie and demon summoning book?"

"Oh, that'd explain why I ran into Cavanaugh at the Poorhouse," Ravn murmurs absentmindedly. "Did think he was slumming it a bit for his usual standards. Do I want to ask? I probably don't want to ask. I like it here. I do realise how that makes me sound but it's a fact. This insane hellhole of a town feels far more like a home to me than anywhere else I've lived. If I was ever in doubt, going home confirmed that for me. Plane'd barely touched down in Copenhagen before I was checking my watch to see how soon I could get back."

"Fair enough. Consider my butt in that seat then. I'll bring a little reserved placard to stick on it." Seth says with a chuckle. "Cavanaugh was banned huh? Wonder what Joe did to piss off Easton...or Bennie. Whichever one put the hammer down."

"So," Seth says as he shifts his attention over to Alexander, "Zombie and demon summoning books. Why doesn't that shock me? Oh, right, because I already went through a hellhole with it's dog-faced whatever those things were. Unless this is something else, and in that case, I will have to work myself up to be properly terrified."

Alexander does his best not to look guilty when Vic brings up the banning of Cavanaugh, and mostly succeeds. He just twitches a bit, then moves on. "It'll be fine. I don't think that the book actually summons anything. We tried rituals for years, and none of those people had the abilities. I don't know what's going on, but I promise, if it looks like an occult apocalypse is going to be unleashed on Gray Harbor, I will be calling all of you in for backup." He shrugs. "But, Ravn, when Isolde's done with it - if you want to take a look at the book, you can. Once I figure out what's going on, I'll try to find some way to return it to the University, but in the meantime, no harm in looking. Especially if you read medieval French."

Vic shrugs though her eyes flick for a tiny moment towards Alexander. "No idea, Easton just let the bartenders know he wasn't welcome." She has her suspicions, but she can't be entirely sure. "And the town pulls you back. That's what I was told by a couple people." She pushes up off the couch and stretches. "Ok, I'm gonna head in and get things set up for the dinner crew, so I can get back here later for my steak. Be safe out there, boys." She heads for the door.

"I don't. But I know people who do, and I know what margin notes look like. I'd like to take a look." Ravn nods. "Like we were talking about -- the Key of Solomon can be ordered in about five seconds flat from any book shop's website. If this one's special, it's because it's different from the rest. There's been something added or taken away that makes it somehow work. Or it's just a very valuable copy but then I guess we won't find anything."

He looks up at Vic gets up to leave. "Take care, Vic. I'll come by some evening, I promise. Even if it feels a little weird to be on the other side of the counter."

Seth stands up and gives Vic a little kiss as she heads out, "Call ahead and I will have the plate ready when you get here if I don't stop by the Twofer before." he calls out after her.

Once Vic leaves, Seth sits back down and looks to Ravn and Alexander. "I'd offer to cook up steaks for you two as well, but..." He leaves the rest up for interpretation. "I'll do steaks for you some other time...in fact, I should take them out to defrost now while I am thinking about it." Seth gets up from his seat again and heads into the kitchen, opening up the freezer and setting out a couple of vacuum-sealed slabs of meat onto the counter.

Alexander grins at Ravn. "Honestly, I plan to try and translate it even if it's perfectly ordinary. A guy like me doesn't get to handle texts this old very often. I'll just have to have Isolde translate for me." He waves goodbye to Vic, but also starts to stand up. "It's all right," he tells Seth, solemnly. "You're allowed to have dates without us. We won't get jealous." A glance towards the door. "I should get going. I was just gonna come by and ask about that, but if you haven't seen anything, then that's good. Don't die, either of you." Then he's starting to head towards the door himself.

"Myes, I think you should have your candlelit steak dinners just for the two of you," Ravn says with obvious amusement. "I'll light a candle and share a can of tuna with my girlfriend if I grow desperate."

He too stands up. "Thanks for... You know. Giving me a reality check. I needed that. I'll see both of you around one of these days? Need a ride home, Alexander, or are you walking?"