2021-01-23 - SO...About That D.A...

The Gym is kind of on lockdown. It's subtle. Duarte is running things up front as normal. The person casually sitting on a folding chair by the back door fucking around on their phone keeping people out of the employee only area (a.k.a. the Back Room) is new. They don't work here in any traditional sense. Alexander's first clue that something's going down in the kingdom of Gray Harbor. Avast, and shit.

It's Duarte that recognizes Alexander and picks up a phone to ring the back. "Yeah, boss? That detective guy is here. No not Martinez, Clayton. Yeah him. What'chu want me to do about it? Cool cool." Leaving the office he leans on the door frame he lifts a hand in greeting. "Sup man. Joey said he's in the back." Which must be true as the kid by the door gets a phone that makes a buzzing noise and he moves his chair to let him pass.

It doesn't take a genius or detective to pick up on the changes at Kelly's Gym, or to put together why those changes have happened. Alexander wouldn't be surprised, if he wandered by Firefly, to see some variation of the same precautions being taken. It doesn't stop him from giving Duarte one of those blank, lizard-like stares, though. Mind you, that's his thinking face, but for most people, it looks like he's just figuring out how to divide the body parts and where to stow them. He stops when the man picks up a phone, and waits. Then, when he comes out of the office, offers a brief nod. "Thanks." He shuffles in that direction, keeping a careful eye on how things are looking as he goes. The kid is noted.

The kid is maybe 19 years old? Not old really by anyone's standards. Does he shine just a bit? On the edges. He might make a thought come out with it, but it's a small spark, and it's focused curious o Alexander silently with a murmured, "Sup." in passing. The door is opened as if someone pulling it from the inside but only one mind seems to register inside the room and a glimpse of something beyond. LIKELY the guy on the outside of the back door freezing his ass off.

Tough titties said the kitty.

There's no one to close the door either but it does. It's like Joey pays exactly 0 attention when he glimmers and is firmly in camp 'this is normal, shit just happens. The boxer is there in a hoodie over a tanktop mostly zipped up, work out pants, sneakers unties, arm in a sling. Tired as he might be he looks to Alexander as h he enters, draws a slow breath with a slow, approving nod on the exhale. "You're in my favourite number of Clayton pieces; singular. Good."

Alexander's head tilts to one side when the door opens on its own. He's not a mover, and seeing it always catches his attention. He doesn't hesitate to walk through, though, and after the door closes, stops and looks around, eyes narrowed as he catches all the details of the room, finally focusing on Joey. "I'm not the one apparently getting knocked around at the police station, or involved in other extracurricular activities," he replies, voice dry. "You seem to have some cracks around the edges, Kelly. You got someone to look at those?" He doesn't ask what happened, because he can guess, and it'd be awkward to hear it straight from the horse's mouth. Instead, he goes to find somewhere to sit near the boxer.

"I wasn't at the police station. And Byron's okay. Ran and Mac Less so but they're gettin there I hear." Top loading that information blunt and sweet like Joey does. He dodges the question about having it looked at. "Sutton and Elise have been...out of town and otherwise occupied." Reaching up to scratch the opposite side of his nose with a thumbnail he murmurs, "we're not so, um...well funded. Had my corner man stitch me up. He's done it before. How's you? You okay? " the concern is there even if in the gesture of waving his fingers from Alexander to the chair to sit and relax. "I heard from a friend shit got hot out there."

Alexander stares at Joey. Then grunts. "Where's your first aid kit? I can have a look if you still need someone to. I'm not a professional, but I do pretty well." A faint smile. "I've got about thirty years of practice patching myself up. And Sutton's gone. She left with the British guy a while ago." There's a hesitation there, something he almost says, but then decides against. "I'm fine. I fucked Cruz's car, but he's...surprisingly chill about it. Still trying to figure out how to fix it back up, but Itzhak doesn't sound, uh, hopeful. About it." He does not sit in the chair or relax, but rather prowls around the room, staring at everything. Like he's going to be quizzed on it later. "I went by and checked on Miss Machinae, Ravn, and Byron. I don't like that people I like are injured."

Joey points to over there which is to say on the desk already. He sits on the edge of the bed there as all the furniture is in the corner in an L like a makeshift dorm really. The sling is undone, and he lowers his arm to rest while untangling himself from it and hoodie. There's discomfort but he also has the best fucking pharmacy in teh city too, so there's that.

Yeah that's a patch job through the chest. Oh a FUN one. Joy. There's a grimace and a wry grin, "Yeah I noticed you had Cruz' Fairlane. What the shit? Also I'd be a liar if I didn't give you some mad kudos on that leap you made. About gave me a fucking heart attack." Is Alexander casing the joint? Eeeh fuck it. Joey's worrying about what the wound's condition is over Alexander knowing his little secrets. Clayton not knowing is more for Alexander's protection than his own.

To be fair, Alexander does this to every single room he enters, and Joey's probably seen him do it to the front of the gym as well. His head swings about to study the available materials and grunts. He grabs the kit and comes over to where Joey is settling on the edge of the bed, giving the man time to undress. He scowls when he sees the wound. "The fuck, Kelly. Do you not have a fucking vest?" The anger? That's how you know he cares. And is a bit conflicted about caring. He settles down, and starts taking a look at what was done. "He let me borrow it as a Christmas present," he mutters, "and now I feel like a fucking asshole because I went and wrecked his goddamned car because I got Lost. I'll figure out something, though." He takes a deep breath, and has to steel himself, visibly, before reaching out to put hands on Joey. His touch, when it comes is gentle and confident, although he's mostly just checking things over, ensuring that the wounds are healing cleanly. There's the faintest pulse of cool power that flows from Alexander to Joey; the investigator isn't a strong healer, but he can at least suppress the pain and itching of the wound. "This...isn't bad. You should get a real doctor to look at it. In a sterile environment. Gyms are breeding grounds for bacterial and fungal infections - neither of which you want in your goddamned chest cavity."

Joey snorts, "Went through the goddamn vest. When I say he was point plank I mean not enough room between us for Jesus point blank." He stops and says "Asshole had a gun and I didn't want him shooting anyone where it fucking mattered so I stepped up on to it and asked him to stop." He Excalibur'd a K-bar knife into his goddamn chest to 'ask', but whatever.

His sits still while Clayton talks about the car. There's a gravelly murmur of, "Shiny and chrome... give Itz time. He's made more out of less. he's got people that can re-fabricate pieces and if they can't? LIl can. It'll take come cookies gettin delivered, but I think that can manage. If he gets hostile tell him must be karma for what he did to mine, so... he can calm his ass down." The words and advice are interpreted a intended: Don't you die on me, asshole. Coach Kelly frowns, "You callin my gym dirty?" That is Joey for 'I appreciate the concern'. There's a longer pause and he follows with, "Doctors report shit to teh police. Also... I need that number we...talked about." Oh HO! someone's alive and kicking after all.

From the look Alexander gives Joey, he knows very well what language Joey used to 'ask' the guy to stop. "You keep standing in front of guns, Kelly, and I'm going to take back the nice things I've said about you being smart," is all he says, though - about the only crime Alexander ISN'T going to poke his nose into is something involving Reyes, even if the urge to ask prying questions is still there, like an ever-present itch under the skin. "It clearly didn't hit a lung, since you're not breathing blood, but infection is a real issue, especially if you're staying here most of the day. Because yes, your gym is dirty. All gyms are dirty." He smiles. "But I'll come by and make sure it's not getting infected, or you can stop by my place, if here isn't convenient. Don't punch things or do any handstands."

A pause at the final sentence. For a moment, there's a bright, blooming smile that takes ten years off his age. It's gone the moment after it's born, but it was there. He stands up and goes to find a place to wash his hands after putting the kit back in order. "Good. There's an ADA who has a solid reputation as having balls of brass, and being eager to make a name for herself. And a good line on a judge to handle the case who isn't on anyone's payroll."

There's a pause and a snicker with a wired grin as, as brave as he is, looks away from Alexander cleaning and poking at the damn thing. Stitches are doin what they can do. Angry. Not infected at least. "Yeah, fair. My gym is dirty? My life is dirty! I dunno there's a clean spot on Elm Street truth be told. Grim comes here for refuge from the mad cleaning people of Bay Street." And now that he's said that watch that become manifest somewhere.

There's a pause, worry really, watching Alexander's face as the faint bits of Glimmer sink in and try to knit the core a bit back together, or at least try to optimize cell growth to do so. but there's that loo; hope. It's a hard to find commodity out this way. Yeah, when the gift is: not killing a guy? Life's officially a bit fucked up. "Well... maybe it's a good time to help her make a name for herself. It's big. Takes a big out of a good portion of the coast. That's what a good coach would do right?"

"I keep my house very clean, thanks," Alexander says, tart but teasing with it rather than genuinely offended. He comes back to sit near Joey once his hands are clean. "...and it is. What a good coach would do." He takes a breath. "It'd be best if the guy rolled up and turned himself in directly to ADA Bennet. Yeah, cops'll still have to book him, but she could get an initial statement right then and there, so that she knows why she has to keep the son of a bitch alive long enough for the full deposition and testimony. It looks like that fucking mess at the station is going to trigger a pretty hard backlash against Reyes' guys in the ranks, which is good."

Joey sucks on an eyetooth taping the gauze pad back in place and leaving the other for Alexander to tape up on the back of his shoulder. NOT what they meant by 'be through', Joey. Such is life. "It's gonna trigger somethin. I got guys inside still. I cam make it worth their while to be bothered to keep an eye out for the guy depending on where they put em." Sometimes crime pays right? All things sorted he doesn't put the hoodie back on right away but lets his shoulder breathe a bit, grateful for the effort put forth to reduce all the damn inflammation. Makes life considerably more easy to deal with. "I'm concerned with where the fallout's gonna be. I, um, I have Itzhak swinging by the Casino. Take a nice drive through the parking structure. Take his time looking for 'a spot'. Make sure no one's planted anything there to wreck people's day. Byron and Rhys is kinda a juicy target to fuck up and pin on us and I ain't playin that shit. THhat's not the kinda gamble people fucking go there for."

Alexander tapes everything back into place, and doesn't even give the wound a poke. He just sits back and studies the younger man with that blank thinky-face he has. "Things do appear to be escalating. If this isn't brought to a definitive conclusion soon, then it's likely to spill out on the civilian population more than it already has." He pauses. "If the cops have the crooked cops, they'll probably manage to break one of them to give the goods on Reyes' organization. From what you've said, your...no doubt quiet and respectful conversation with Mr. du Bois has encouraged him to do likewise for yourself. So, if you don't want to leave it entirely in the hands of the cops, your people should probably move soon. Reyes is smart. And if I were him, I'd know we were fucking blown, and already be in the process of packing up and finding a new hideout. Might even go all the way to Hoaquim or something, which would be awkward." A brief nod at the mention of protecting the casino. Then he hesitates, tilts his head up to look at the ceiling. "Anything I can do? To help?"

Joey arches an eyebrow, "Fuck, man, even our crooks are crooked. Crookeds...er..." There's a pause and a frown and he kicks out his gym bagand leans over trying to keep his arm supported on his leg so his muscles that are all shot to shit aren't doing the work, and fishes around for what i Alexander's little book taking a little travel wear and tear. He starts digging through it muttering something about there should be something in there, "Like if it's not in here i'm a write the company and ask em to start including blank pages to add shit they left out."

Looking up there's a long pause. "Yeah. there's a lot of 'local business' that might get hit hard in teh backlash. I'm hoping he starts to realize our Harbor ain't worth he hassle we are gonna give him. NOW... what I want you to do? Is keep your head down. This thing you can work out with the ADA? That's gonna draw a lot of attention once Reyes catches wind of that. That... can wreck his world all the way up the coast and that's good. Him knowing you're involved? Last thing I want is him having names and faces of who and where so if you can tell Daryl to just forget it for a while? Happy to have you do so. At least where your'e concerned and then whatever past that..."

The amusement in Alexander's eyes as he watches Joey look through the dictionary fades when the guy tells him to keep his head down. There's a sort of stubborn set to his jaw, a mulish indignation, even as he says, "My name isn't going to be attached to anything, Kelly. I've only really talked to the ADA once, and I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm a lunatic." Which, fair's fair, Alexander is not the most stable or friendly presence in town. "I can keep an eye on things without getting involved."

To the last, though, he just says, "No." He stands up, turns, and just starts walking out.

Joey looks up and says "Good. And...thanks." He's still not a 'good with words guy' lie Rhys. He's working on this. Saying 'no though? That gets a faint grin. "Good. You get shot? I'm gonna be real pissed at you. I'll have ma yell at you for me if I gotta." Grim but were it not important? Well he wouldn't have dragged his mum into it. "Text me and lemme know when to have him show up."

Alexander pauses, hand on the door. "I'd prefer not have ghosts yell at me. I'll try not to get shot. Don't die." And then he's through the door and gone, head down, barely acknowledging the kid or Duarte or anyone else in the gym as he shuffles out.