2021-01-05 - Bax Hamster Dance

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I humbly request your expertise in a scientific experiment of great importance to the future well-being of a number of Gray Harbor residents.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I am planning to engage in an experiment which will require oversight by a true professional. An expert in his field, such as it were. A delicate hand. A mastermind.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : You show great wisdom. Also admirable flattery. Go on...

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Have I sucked up enough yet?

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : I'll let you know once the actual request comes.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : So basically, while I was home, I remembered that I have not had authentic Danish apple slices for a few years. They require a special pan.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Then I thought, I have no bloody idea how to make the dough, either.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : And this is when I reasoned --

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Vydal + pan + Vydal's expertise equals apple slices.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : So what are the odds of me turning up at your place sometime with a genooine Danish apple slice pan and ending up full of yummy pastries?

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : I would say your odds are reasonably high. Even higher if precisely which yummy pastries are involved remains unspecified, but... apple slices, mm? I don't know that, or not by that name, but I'm definitely intrigued to become acquainted. You've obtained the proper pan, then, I presume?

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Given that failing to do so would strongly lower said odds.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I sure have. It looks like this and weighs exactly as much as it looks like, so I had it shipped here instead of bringing it on the plane.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : They're puffy little pastries. Not unlike taiyaki or crepes, really, except puffy. You eat them with jam and or powdered sugar. It's a traditional Christmas thing.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : These things

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Ah! I recognize a word there, yes. Aebleskiver, is it? I didn't know that's what it meant, but I've had them a couple times. Not apple, then. They had berry jam in-- yes, those.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Yep, no actual apple involved. Back in the 16th century or so there'd be a slice of apple in them, hence the name.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Strawberry or blackberry jam are the typical choices, along with powdered sugar. I can tell you they're great with maple syrup too.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : I'd think they'd still be quite good with apple. Why the change, do you know? Surely yours ought to involve apples.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : And they make great missiles. We could sit Bax at the end of the table and throw them at him, see how many he can catch with his mouth.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : ... Hah, yeah. We could try? I mean, worst case scenario, we have a pan's worth of not quite so exciting puffy pastries.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : But yes. I've not made them specifically before, but I'm quite sure I can. And do not suggest that to him. There'll be powdered sugar from here to New Orleans. Somehow. Even if we didn't serve any.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I am now picturing Bax bouncing around the room in a flurry of batter and powdered sugar. I presume that you don't usually let him near the sugar.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Not if it can be helped, no. Not that it makes an immense difference to the bouncing quotient.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Traditionally these things are served with mulled wine but we might do Gray Harbor the favour of ignoring that.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Danish mulled wine is bitter and awful.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : ...he'd probably catch most of them.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Now picturing him with hamster cheeks.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Mn. Yes, let's at least aim for mulled wine that's neither of those.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : German Glühwein is mulled wine made from a not too dry red wine and port. Danish glögg is mulled wine made from the cheapest crap you can buy in a carton. The difference is significant.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Now I'm picturing that too and really these things mustn't be encouraged. Even if they are rather amusing. And I doubt he'd object to the excuse.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Doing things right and investing in quality always makes a significant difference.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I'm not sure I'm ready for Bax on an extreme sugar high with added alcohol.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : I'm not sure anyone is.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Of all the things Gray Harbor has faced, that'd be the straw to break the camel's back.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Still, there'd be worse ways to go.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : True. I mean, for one we'd be drunk.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : And we'd have aebleskivers. Presuming we managed to rescue a few.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Is cardamom a spice you usually have available? I don't see it often here in the US.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Oh, yes, that's always in the rack. Not one that comes out most often, but I have uses for it.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : These magical mystery apple puffballs benefit from just a nip. It's not in the traditional recipe but everyone does it anyway.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : It's a little funny. I finally make up my mind to move to the US kind of semi-permanently, and now I'm all nostalgic for traditional things.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Noted. I'll look into the traditional recipe and keep an eye out for any that add that, in case they make other tweaks as well. Hm.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : It's a sort of very specific homesickness, I suppose. That sort of nostalgia.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Traditional recipe is pretty much European pancake with a bit of baking soda to make it rise, I think. Although, not to be confused with American pancakes. Americans do weird things to pancakes.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Americans do weird things to anything they get their hands on.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Is it really home sickness when you can't get back out of the country fast enough though? Not saying I didn't enjoy giving Hyacinth a tour of my home town, but I sure as heck didn't feel like -staying-.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Sometimes to a benefit. Sometimes not.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Well, hence 'very specific'. If you truly wanted to be there, you would be. But that doesn't necessarily mean it's comfortable or desirable to turn one's back on all of it. Particularly the delicious parts.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : It was odd seeing the place through somebody else's eyes. I feel like I should tell her at some point that she had a handful of decidedly dead, very curious people following her around the house for hours, gossiping worse than any set of old aunts.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Where we come from and where we've been stays part of us, to a greater or lesser extent. Food in particular is a fairly powerful tie. (But no attempt should be made to coordinate it with a pocket square.)

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : You didn't tell her at the time? What did they have to say?

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : ...but seeing familiar places through the eyes of someone new to them is always a bit odd, yes.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I don't know her well enough to know if she'd find it hilarious or be freaked out.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Almost certainly either amusing or annoying. Possibly depending what they had to say.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Well, none of them came over to ask me any questions. They just do the things ghosts do -- watch, follow, look curious, get distracted, wander back off. But I think some of them were kind of excited to see me bring somebody female there. Which is kind of the other reason I didn't say anything. It wasn't a date.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Sometimes I think that being a ghost like that must be like one of those dreams you have just before you wake up, where everything is kind of real and normal except that you're in bed and thinking about getting up but you're also on a UFO fighting pirates, and time tends to skip around a little.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : They probably weren't more excited about it than my grandmother was, and she's still alive. ...I don't have a lot of ghost experience, really. Bax has... complicated ghost experience. He could tell you what it's like in Dreams but it's a, hm. Well. Complicated. Ideally let's stick to fighting pirates on UFOs. Or better, apple slices.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Yeah, the whole Baxter/Addington can of worms... I pieced a lot of it together from Hyacinth and Clayton in particular, bits and pieces from elsewhere. It's something I do want to ask him about sometime but... sometime needs to be the right time, because that is one ugly can of very large, very ugly invertebrates.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : But yes, I decided to not say anything to Hyacinth at the time because well. Maybe having managed to escape family party with the Addingtons, I figured she might not care to be seized up as potential womb owner for the Abildgaard line instead.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Well, she took it well enough for the Vydal line. I think she talks to my grandmother more often than I do. Still, I don't suppose it would've been the highlight of the trip. Certainly not with sixteenth-century balustrades about.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Fair enough. If she ends up going back to make out with my staircase again, I'll warn her that there might be an audience. Besides, you know, an entire school's worth of students unless she goes on a holiday again. Mind you, an art school's worth full of students might well get an experience from it -- Hyacinth's definitely got Opinions on design.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Christ, I'm glad to be out of there. I miss things like apple slices. Don't miss the rest.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Did I ever tell you about the dream where Gina Castro and I ended up smoking weed in my mother's greenhouse, as teenagers?

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Hyacinth has Opinions on most things and an unusually high percentage of them are correct. I suspect they could learn something from it, particularly if their art is architecture. Or at all includes it.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I'd be very surprised if none of those students are going on to architecture and design, indeed.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : No, you didn't mention that one. She owns the place with the kitschy bears and unbearable soundtrack, doesn't she?

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : That's her, yes. By some crazy circumstance she was in Denmark in 2007 (that part is true). Dream decided that -actually- she was there to be set up on a blind date with me, which neither of us wanted. So we ended up getting high and bitching about parents in the greenhouse.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I mean, it never actually happened, but it's still one of my funnier memories from adolescence.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Very unreasonable of parents to be in the greenhouse.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Hah.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : It was weird going back. Felt like saying goodbye.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : That's an odd situation to end up with. Memories of things that didn't actually happen. Although I suppose in a way the whole town has that with the Revisionist issues.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Do you think you were?

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I was going to say, that's pretty normal around here. I'm pretty certain I was never actually a tuna either, or fought an Aztec fertility goddess.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Saying goodbye, that is.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : I'd say that isn't quite the same thing.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : In a sense I think I was. Place has changed a lot. It's a school now. A lot of changes -- obviously, to accomodate students and whatnot. It's still a beautiful place, but it's not the place I grew up in anymore. Which is not a bad thing per se, considering that I spent most of my teenage years plotting how to get the hell out of there.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : You were a tuna merman, and you did presumably fight an Aztec fertility goddess. It just wasn't in this reality. There's something different about memories that fit into this one.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : That is true. It's just hard to tell sometimes where one reality ends and another begins. I mean, I'd been beating eggs for ten minutes for Joey Kelly's mum before anyone clued me into the fact that she died, what, 20 years ago?

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : (Then I figured that if it didn't bother her, then there was no reason it should bother me either, and the cupcakes were good)

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Why does a dead woman need-- well, I was going to ask why she needs eggs beaten, and I suppose the obvious answer is it's trickier to do it oneself without a body, but why is she making cupcakes? For whom?

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Oh, I'd argue that for a ghost she's pretty physical. She just seems to have decided to not let a small thing like a broken neck get in the way of taking care of her family. I kind of admire her. That's dedication.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : I suppose while there are still people to eat the cupcakes...

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : So what have you sorted out about the Baxter/Addington thing? I don't feel I really have that particular tin of annelids stocked in the pantry as yet. Although put that way I'm suddenly uncertain I want to.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I don't know all the gory details. But on a more general approach, it's a pretty classical Faustian tale. The Baxters were here first and were doing good. Some Addington got here next, decided that they should be in charge instead, and struck some kind of Devil's Bargain. How and what exactly I can't tell you, but it basically boils down to the two families feuding over ownership and the Addingtons being willing to go that little bit further. There's some pretty shady indications that the Baxters are somehow being sacrificed for Addington progress.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Needless to say, the modern descendants on both sides are a bit unthrilled.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : One piece of advice I keep getting is, 'tell your Baxter friends to not die in Gray Harbor'.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : I'm rather averse to mine dying at all.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I vote in favour of nobody dying.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : But, I mean, sitting between Clayton and Hyacinth, discussing this, of course it's awkward. No one alive today wants this mess. Except possibly the old Lady Addington. There are some hints dropped that she might actually be quite cool with it.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : The place will get rather crowded rather quickly at that rate. But at the least I require Hya and Bax to procrastinate as long as possible.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I don't think these ancestors -created- the mess that's Gray Harbor, but they drew something's attention here. A very Faustian setup, really. The only side that's really benefiting from whatever happened is the Devil, i.e. whatever it is that's running the Veil.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Margaret is welcome to drop dead at her earliest convenience.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Sounds like you've met the old lady and love her just about as much as Hyacinth does.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : D-Veil? And yes. She was rather unpleasant and unhelpful during the Gohl thing. But mostly I dislike how she's treated Hya.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Yes. This isn't really something I'd usually discuss behind Hyacinth's back but you know her better than I do, so... No news, I figure. She really loathes that woman. It's why she bailed to go to Denmark with me. Not being stuck at the family Christmas party having to keep smiling and pretending everything is jolly.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Now add to this Faustian tale the warnings I get from other people in the know that there are mortals in Gray Harbor who are absolutely on the Veil's side, and the math really isn't that hard to do.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Mm, yes. Although, hm. The phrase 'on the Veil's side' doesn't quite sit right with me.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : True, but I want to avoid 'the Devil' since I don't think it's something quite so personified.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I'm not convinced we're dealing with an enemy consciousness as much as some kind of alien force of nature. It's not coherent enough, and it plucks most of its ideas out of people's heads. I bet that if we had access to a kind of list of dreams here for a hundred years, and cross-referenced it with a census, you'd find that the average of dream 'storylines' match with the cultural origins of the inhabitants.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Or to put it differently -- if Gray Harbor suddenly got 5,000 new residents from Mumbai, we'd be looking at Ganesha a lot.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : I'm no expert (despite efforts so far; it's harder than I'd like to get people to tell me things around here), but I don't believe the Veil is our antagonist. It feels like saying 'on Los Angeles's side'.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : No, 'the Veil' is really more like the doorway.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : (also, yes, getting people to talk is hard. I'm fortunate insofar that it's literally my job to collect stories, I know what to listen for).

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : In a way, the Veil is a dark mirror.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : When I first got anyone to speak to me much about any of it, Mr. Clayton was referring to whatever it is that actively uses the thinness of the Veil here to prey on us as 'dolorphages', which is still my favourite term. Says what it does. Rolls off the tongue. Much clearer than 'Them' or 'the Dark Men' or other such don't-say-faeries sounding terms.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I've heard that term too, and I'm inclined to say that there are definitely things on the other side that treat us like dairy farmers treat cows. August Røn has the same take.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : But it's not -quite- that simple. In a way, I see it like a mirror of our own reality. There's more than one faction, more than one agenda on the other side, too.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : So we got these dolorphages farming us for dream juice, definitely. But we also have people like the Revisionist who does not seem inherently malicious -- or the Exorcist whom I've had the questionable pleasure of meeting once. I'm not sure what side she's on either. Again, not outright malicious. But there's also things in there that are absolutely malicious, in the way of a psychopathic violent farmer taking a shotgun to his dairy cattle.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Well, yes, there being more than one faction and agenda was more or less my point. There are terrible people in LA, out to get what they can from you and your own needs be damned. I've met plenty of them. But they aren't the city.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Yep.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : That's also why it's not just a matter of finding out what the first Addington did to the first Baxter. I mean, we should try, because it'd be rather great to end that family curse -- contemporaries on both sides would likely approve. But there's more to it than that. Maybe they gave the other side a chance to break through here -- maybe this was always a thin point.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : But the folklorist part of me keeps pointing out that one rather important staple of almost all story crafting ever is that a righteous heart overcomes.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I know it makes me sound like an escapee from some 1968 San Francisco love-in, but -- being decent to each other, having each other's backs, standing up for each other, seems to have an effect. Not as much as we'd like, definitely not. And some things need taken apart with a large firearm, absolutely. But as long as this thing insists on playing by folklore and fairytale rules, then the youngest son, the righteous hero, the pure princess has the potential to come out on top.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : They're in LA because it's well-populated with a higher than usual percentage of people from whom they've a decent chance of getting what they want. My feeling is it may be the same with the dolorphages. Do you think it's them this deal serves directly? Or is it some other force, and they simply benefit as a side effect from the fact that it causes suffering?

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : If I am to guess, then I think these dolorphages, whatever you want to call them, are attracted to this place because food is easy here.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : After a fashion, they're sharks, they go to the coral reef because that's where the prey is.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Well, if it's entirely folklore and fairytale I don't particularly like my odds for the ending of the story. But, yes, that's what I was saying regarding well-populated. It's the deal issue I was asking about: is it more likely to be with them, or some other interest?

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : If it's a literal deal, then it's with somebody or something on the other side -- which could be the dolorphages, or something more advanced. If it's a metaphorical deal, then we're more into Cain and Abel territory -- Cain did something horrible to the other guy, and creation itself (as personified in God) punishes all of humanity (Gray Harbor) for it.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : It does matter, because in scenario one, we need to undo the deal while in scenario two, we need to make amends and undo the wrong.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : The latter's more intriguing, in a way. The metaphysical equivalent of the hole in the ozone layer, I suppose.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : But it's all still archetypal as hell, and that's what I'm working on piecing together. Not to mention, you know, wanting to look out for people I care about. I'm still getting used to the whole idea of caring about people.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Odd, isn't it?

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I lean towards the second scenario, personally. And yeah, it is. A bit frightening too. Lots of responsibility.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Very inconvenient, yet strangely addictive.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : YES.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : It's entirely possible that we need to do the metaphysical equivalent to banning freon.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : If in this case freon ends up equating to the Arts, it may be an even tougher sell than that one.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : It's going to be a tough sell overall, because whatever it is, there are people on this side who are willing to toss other people into wood chippers to keep the status quo. I don't know half the story about the haunted lumber mill but, again -- I'm a folklorist, I can do this math.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Seems an odd thing to be necessary.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : It correlates. This is lumber land. The money of Gray Harbor was in lumber. The lumber mill is symbolic of the town, it's its heart.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : There's a reason they call Hyacinth the lumber baroness.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : If I didn't fear that doing so might -open- a gate instead, I'd go burn the thing down.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : I suppose one could argue all lumber towns toss people into wood chippers to keep the status quo, perhaps moreso past than present. But they aren't all Gray Harbor.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Gray Harbor seems to take that kind of thing very, very literally.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : One would think that should be useful, somehow.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : But that's what I mean when I say this town and the Veil runs on stories and archetypes. It's all very textbook except that unlike most stories, it's also very real.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I have this crazy theory.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Do tell.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : About the younger brother, the third guy, the righteous man.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Not -literally-. But, the idea that it takes a certain kind of mindset to undo evil.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : We keep trying to find the truth. To put an end to it all. The overall goal. But in the meantime -- we can minimise damage and impact.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : By doing things that bind people together. Because when you get down to the core of it, all of this started when some Addington stabbed some Baxter in the back.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Hm.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : These dolorphages or whatever is behind them thrive on strife and stuffering. Disney princess mindset as it sounds like, cohesion and unity is anathema to them.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : So yeah. I'm the guy who brings an apple slice pan across the Atlantic because we'll bloody well eat cake and have fun and enjoy life.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : On the one hand, it's arguably the sort of thing where in the worst case you're wrong and people are unnecessarily kind and considerate to each other.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Yes, that'd be terrible, wouldn't it?

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : On the other I do feel as though I ought to lay in a good supply of insulin against the case of diabetes I feel may overtake me any moment. Some of us may squirm to death.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Well, that's the thing. We're not care bears. I for one don't do group hugs and speeches.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : I am willing to do the occasional speech if entirely necessary.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : But we -can- reject being assholes. You can absolutely be your usual acerbic, smirking self, and not go out of your way to ruin other people's lives.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Ruining lives is far more energy than I'm willing to devote to most people I don't like. Ruining afternoons and the occasional weekend is about the effort I'm inclined to invest.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I'd never propose to anyone that they start wearing pink and spewing cutesy platitudes. I'm just going to support things such as that art festival, and other initiatives that make Gray Harbor a little less unpleasant.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : When I first came into town, I was told a few things by various people. That the best ways to cope is drinking a lot and screwing a lot. That it's every man for himself. Those are the idioms I'd argue we should be rejecting. Not that there's anything wrong with having sex, but it was meant in the context where other people get hurt by one's carelessness and indifference.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Well, I'm willing to aim for my alcohol intake to remain in moderation.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : You know what I mean, you Welsh git.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Fine words from a Dutchman.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I worked at a bar long enough to know exactly what they were talking about. People who only think ten hours ahead and only of their own needs.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : .. Oh, it's ON.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : I suspect your time estimate is generous.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I will graciously refrain from burning down your shop until after apple slices. And yes, I know. I am a generous man like that.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Given that plan I can only assume the generosity involves giving them your own allotment of forethought.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : ... Not really, to be honest. I just wanted apple slices. But it's dawning on me that maybe I've been leaning in this direction on a subconscious level for a while. I've been wondering what I want to do with myself, since we had that talk about ten years into the future. Maybe this is it? Be a weird foreigner who goes around telling people to be decent.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : It's going to be difficult to fit on a business card.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Oh, my business card needs to say Art Nouveau Boho Chic.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Not chick.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : No, you'd make a terrible boho chick. Though I suppose at least you wouldn't need to shave your legs.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Tell that to Hyacinth, that was her description of me.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Without the K, I presume? Or do I need to drag her in for an eye exam?

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Without the K. She was rather adamant about that bit. I -was- considering maybe looking at a small black number, a pair of heels...

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Tch, of course black. The little black dress is classic for a reason, yes, but isn't it a bit conservative for your new look?

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Ah, I need to get more colourful for boho, do I? Maybe some flower prints, a few bead necklaces, and brightly coloured scrunchies.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Now you're just trying to hurt me. I thought we were meant to reject being assholes.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Aw, sorry. Tell you what, if I ever do decide to go drag, I'll consult with you. I have never actually paid much attention to women's fashion.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Have you paid much attention to men's?

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : If you do ever decide to go drag, definitely do consult with me. I wouldn't want to miss it.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I am not going to claim it was ever a field that interested me a whole lot. But there was a time in my life when I actually had to dress properly at times. And a time where I was engaged to someone who took quite a lot of interest in fashion and art photography. Insert horse picture joke.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Quality and fit do elevate nearly anything. That colour allergy you seem to be valiantly starting to confront here and there aside, you could be doing worse. With or without equine assistance.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : It's not an allergy. It's just -easier-.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I'll wear my coloured shirt next time I come over. It's got a blue and purple tie-dye print. The lady from the sweets shop gave it to me. She made it herself.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : I believe you when you blame the fiancee for that photo as I notice the horse wasn't black. And I'm not letting you in wearing a tie-dye t-shirt. It might be contagious.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Awww. But it's pretty.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Tie-dye is coming back into fashion, you know?

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Or is this one of these over your dead body things?

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Does it fit properly?

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : If there is tie-dye over my dead body I will rise from my grave and smite someone.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : It's a little big to be honest. I use it when I go walking in the chilly mornings, I can fit another shirt under it.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : ... This is Gray Harbor, you just might.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : If it's done well and the underlying fabric is good then it might be defensible if you had it tailored to fit properly.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : If I ever decide I need to impress somebody I'll consult with you first. 😂

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Good. Most people should.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Most people should in any case but I've only so much free time for charity.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Yay, I'm charity. 😂😂😂

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I actually do need to buy a new jacket sometime. Someone put a meat cleaver through the sleeve of this one. And then someone put half a diner's worth of cutlery through the other sleeve, and it's honestly looking a little, ah, well used. Enough to prompt somebody else to offer to help me find a new one at a thrift store yesterday.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : If that means you're likely to be a featured dancer at the Platinum sometime soon, do send me a save-the-date. Anyway, I've slightly more free time for you, or the future wouldn't involve aebleskivers.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I have been to the Platinum once. A dancer gave very serious thought to stabbing me.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I don't think I have a future in strip tease.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : ... This whole unity thing. It's taking my mind to very scary places.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : At a thrift store? I suppose the well-punctured look could lead one to assume you'd either fallen into dire straits or started cultivating a punk look, but I repeat myself. Why did the dancer consider stabbing you, and have you considered not doing whatever's lead at least three people to desire your intimate acquaintance with edged utensils?

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I seem to be very good at making people want to stab me. It usually correlates to me asking questions. Something which I learned on that occasion is Not Done at a strip club.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : I'm now entirely obligated to inquire as to just what you asked.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : As for the other times... Meat cleaver guy thought filetting me would be hot. And the diner barrage of kitchenware wasn't aimed at me, I just happened to be standing between Gina Castro and the person she was aiming at.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I asked if she'd seen a guy looking such and suchlike regularly since he was a murder suspect. She assumed I was a plainclothes cop.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Fair, they do tend to be fairly plain clothes.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I mean, consider yourself warned, don't ever get between Gina Castro and someone she wants to launch kitchenware at.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : 'Barrage of kitchenware' definitely has its good points as a defense around here. I went with that in the... second, I think, Dream I was drawn into.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : A fork can certainly take out an eye. Can verify.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Given the option I'll take your word for it.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : It was a mess. My dead fiancee showed up and tried to kill her.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : That doesn't sound like a good time had by all, no. Dream, then?

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Yeah. Gray Harbor's welcome back present.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Does the fact it didn't get me anything mean it likes me less or more, do you suppose?

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Did you all come out of it all right, bar the innocent jacket?

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : You know what, given that the Veil's gifts are a bit like a loving cat who leaves two half-eaten rats in your underwear drawer, maybe you should aim for being loved a little less.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Yeah, I'm good. Meat cleaver guy got my arm just before I flew to Denmark, but I was lucky that one of the other blokes in that dream can heal.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : History suggests that ought to lie within my talents. Oh, who was that then?

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Seth Monaghan. Decent bloke. Yes, related to the other guy, but, decent bloke.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : I've not met either of them. Still, good to know. All your fingers still in proper working order, then?

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Fortunately yes. I'd be rather upset if I could no longer play. As in, you'd have heard the screaming and found the bodies.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : No jury would convict you. But remind me to stop putting off befriending an accommodating pig farmer, just in case.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : You're a mover, aren't you?

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Weeeeell. Yes. Technically. I'm not very good at it.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I am kind of... I'm a match in a town full of long life halogen lamps.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : That's as may be, but I'm curious: have you ever tried using it to play?

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : ... I've picked up my violin bow from the floor a few times. I don't think it ever occurred to me to try more than that, no.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Are you thinking about trying it, now?

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : ... I might be.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : I'm thinking about it and I don't even know how to do it the proper way. Well, not beyond the broad strokes.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : You play the violin?

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : No, not at all.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : I know in theory how it's done. It would likely sound like three roosters and a small lynx in a sack if I tried.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : If you want to learn, I can give you some pointers.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : ...hm. I might be interested in giving it a go.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : As long as I'm assured no one will call the ASPCA on me.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Why not? It's fun. You wouldn't be the first beginner I've shown the ropes.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : We'll put my cat on the doorstep so people can see for themselves that she's not being tortured.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Is your doorstep still insisting on hanging about in the trailer park?

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Well, it is. Although I am thinking of finding somewhere else. There's a bloke whom I've talked to about maybe finding somewhere slightly larger and going room mates. He's in a long distance relationship and I am single, so we shouldn't have sock on the door handle issues often.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : In the meantime it might be better to let the tie-dye guard the place while you're out and bring the violin by here, instead. The soundproofing in these flats is fantastic.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Where are you thinking you and the potential roommate might matily room?

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : If you think your neighbours won't mind you've certainly got more space. And space -is- an issue for free movement.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : I'm not sure yet. Rosencrantz talked about a family he knows that has a place. If that doesn't work out, maybe rent one of the less dilapidated but smaller Elm street properties. I don't want to invest in somewhere I need to wear a tie to cross the parking lot.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : I think my neighbours won't know, unless we attempt it on a balcony.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Well, how much do you hate them? Amateur violinists DO sound terrible, it can't be helped.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : You're in the PNW; there's nowhere that actually requires a tie within four hour's drive.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : This is part of why I am in the PNW.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : But, what I mean is, I don't need somewhere posh to live. I don't want somewhere with designer furniture and the best sound rig in Gray Harbor. I want somewhere that looks like people live there, and at least one other person living there. I do solitary enough as is.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Solitary has things to recommend it. But all right, perhaps not all the time. I'm putting the kettle on, by the way. Ought to be ready in, mm, about Huckleberry-to-somewhere-posh-with-designer-furniture-while-carrying-a-violin minutes. I'll tell the gate to send you up.

(TXT to Ravn) Vyv : Bring the aebleskiver pan.

(TXT to Vyv) Ravn : Yes, Your Grace.