2021-01-24 - Pineapple or No Pineapple?

It's not that Ravn Abildgaard can't cook(1); it's that he doesn't want to. He doesn't enjoy it, and he never got around to learning how to actually do it properly. Like the bachelor apparently eternal that he seems to be, the Dane favours take-out and eating at the various places around town that don't require him to put on a tie. He's not a regular here at the pizza shop -- but that may change, given that he's only just noticed that it exists. Giving Gina Castro's diner a bit of competition can never be a bad thing.

(1) Opening a can of tuna and nuking a couple of tacos in the microwave counts as cooking. Ask Ravn's cat.

The tall copper blond settles in a booth in spite of being alone -- maybe he's just not that interested in watching the cook actually make his food. He pulls a paperback in Danish out of a pocket in his wind breaker and settles in after placing an order for what he calls a Pizza Hawaii -- a largely tomato, cheese, ham, and pineapple affair that no doubt would make an actual Italian cry. Just another bloke on his lonesome, wearing nothing but black and nose deep in a book in a language no one else around here reads, nothing unusual to see here, nope.

Seth can cook. Seth cooks all the time, has done it 'professionally', and actually enjoys it...but it also requires that both arms be in good working order and the hole in the enforcer's upper chest/shoulder makes some things difficult. So what is a man to do? Why go and get pizza and beer of course.

Seth slips into the pizza shop relatively low key. His outfit is muted and non-descript with a shirt consisting of dark greys and blues in some random gradient pattern, a pair of well worn blue jeans, and some hiking boots. A heavy winter coat is thrown over all that to complete a cold-weather ensemble. Striding up to the counter as he peruses the menu like he has never eaten pizza before and doesn't know what kind of topping he wants (hint: It's the meat lovers).

Keen spatial awareness is a thing for some people; so's just happening to look up from page 128 and spot the big redhead studying menus. Ravn memorises the page number (he's forgotten his book mark and dog ears are for vandals, I tell you, vandals) and tucks his paperback back into a coat pocket. "Try the vegan option," he calls out. "It's definitely your style, Irish."

He knows better. Of course he does. But there's never any reason to let facts get in the way of ribbing a big Irish redhead who can probably break your neck six times before you can say O'Malley or for that matter, O'no. "Join me if you like," the Dane adds.

Seth turns around, gives Ravn the finger, and then makes a compromise as he orders the meat lover's with all the vegan vegetables on it as well just ordering all the toppings. Well all of them except for two, pineapple and anchovies.

Having placed his order and obtaining his pitcher of beer, the enforcer makes his way over to Ravn's table and settles himself down into the seat with a grunt of effort. "Hey Darth. Out for a gourmet dinner tonight I see."

"Actually didn't notice this place until now," the Dane admits. "Nothing wrong with the Black Bear diner except -- it's got a very set clientele of lumber workers which is all fine and dandy, except that it's the same clientele that keeps asking me when the next lobster fighting season begins. We're in January, man. Put the lobsters on a boat deck now, they'll just die. Not to mention, my boat is dry docked, and it's bloody cold outside."

He cants his head to observe the other man as he settles. Swiping a few salt packets from the basket at the centre of the table to play his little sleight of hand games with, the folklorist asks, "How's the everything? Looks like for all the efforts of Vic and Clayton you're still feeling a bit under the weather."

"Well," Seth says lowering his voice to a whisper, "Let's me tell you when you get shot and a bullet goes through your body, it takes a bit to recover from that. I was able to woo-woo Vic a bit, but I'm having to patch up the old fashioned way. The woo-woo shit doesn't seem to work on me."

Seth chuckles and leans back into the booth to get comfortable, pouring himself a glass of beer from the pitcher as he settles in. "I wonder what weird shit I would be doing if I ever went and talked to this rewriter person. Not that I even know where I would find them."

"The Revisionist?" Ravn's eyebrows shoot up. "You mail her. I think it's a her. Crazy as it sounds. There's a mailbox right in from of town hall. Not even joking -- it's like sending a letter to Santa. Only, well, if you assume that Santa is addicted to Mexican telenovelas, drinks too much, and generally doesn't like people. I don't think she's malicious as such but if you decide you want to... change something... you should probably make your intent very clear and hope for the best. For myself, I was very clear that I wanted my story to not hurt other people. What I got back doesn't. It makes me a laughing stock but I got exactly what I asked for."

"No shit? It's as simple as that? How in the bloody hell did you even fin...right. You are you. You ask questions, and you probably asked Clayton who knows just about everything." Seth smirks as he lifts his glass to his lips and takes a sip. "I can't say I am not curious, but the way my life works I'd get rumored to be an undercover agent or something like that, and shit really would hit the fan. Could you just imagine?" Seth rolls his uninjured shoulder in a semi-shrug, "Lobster fighting isn't a bad thing. It's fuckin' weird, but not bad. Not sure how the chef thing was hurting people though unless they tried to eat your cooking..."

"Eating my cooking definitely would kill them." Ravn starts to build a little jenga tower out of toothpicks and salt and pepper packets. He taps his lip momentarily with a gloved finger and then shakes his head at the inquiry about Clayton. "No -- no, I think I just woke up knowing how one morning. Probably just -- part of the experience, as one of the people who got rewritten? If you sit down and think seriously about how this time rewrites reality sometimes, you're going to end up in a straightjacket."

The Dane carefully places condiments packets. "As for hurting others -- it was the celebrity part of celebrity chef. I had paparazzi trying to make rumours real -- me screwing Rosencrantz, me screwing anything in a skirt, me roofie-ing a girl on my boat. Not only was it kind of heading in the direction where I might have to deal with actual criminal charges at some point, and of course it's never very healthy for anyone's relationships that there's rumours going around town that they're sleeping with that Swedish guy. I don't want to do time, and I don't want to break up any couples."

Kyle wanders in, not that he's super well known even though he's lived in town his whole life. He's the quiet type that usually stays to himself. But after helping set up some displays at his job, which he wasn't entirely sure if he was on the clock for he was hungry, and Pizza was easy. So he walked in and looked around looking for a good seat. But mostly his attention was on the thoughts of food.

"Ah, ok, I could see how that would be a problem," Seth says to Ravn as sips at his beer. "So, it was more of a people just believe this about you, not that it was an actuality. So you didn't one day wake up knowing how to cook five-star meals, you were still a no-star chef just with a 5 star reputation. What would happen if you did try to cook and serve people, other than them dying of food poisoning that is? Would the illusion be shattered, or would they think they were eating five-star food?"

Seth glances over as the door opens, hawklike eyes watching Kyle as he strolls his way towards the front counter. Assessing the man in the 'not a threat' category, the enforcer turns back to Ravn, "So, it's just a rumor mill, not a reality changer. Got it...I think"

"Something like that, although I can't seem to convince anyone that lobster fighting leagues are -- you know, not actually a thing that exists. I think that might just be because guys like the idea of beer and lobster on the marina, though." Ravn too glances at the new arrival and nods at him -- the two men have never actually spoken, but he knows Mac's shop employee by appearance. It's the guy who's smart enough to not let his boss drag him into games in which she would then proceed to kick his arse.

Smarter than Ravn himself, obviously.

"Hey, Kyle -- it's Kyle, isn't it?" He calls out to the younger man. "How's your boss? Still in hospital, or did she climb out a window and escape yet?" He's got an accent that clearly labels him as not a native speaker -- European, presumably.

Kyle didn't seem to have heard the conversation, but appearances can be deceiving, and Kyle has a lot of practice at pretending not to hear things. But when his name was called he looked up with a sheepish smile. "Oh Hi? Um... I think it was Revan? She's okay. She was just at work earlier, though she might have escaped. Nothing really seems to effect her." He says again then after placing his order hesitantly walks over to Ravn and Seth's table a little nervously, despite working at a store he wasn't really all that good with people unless he knew them really well. He just sort of stands there awkwardly.

Seth watches as the kid approaches, not in an unfriendly way but in something that resembles caution. He doesn't know him, and with everything going on in Seth's like right now he isn't taking any chances. The enforcer seems to relax a little as Ravn starts to talk to him, shifting his eyes over to the Dane for a moment before focusing them on Kyle again. Finally, after a moment that seems a lot longer than it really is, Seth averts his eyes and takes a sip of his beer.

"You work for Mac?" Seth says, not looking at the kid, "Glad to hear she seems to be feeling better if she is out of the hospital." Seth's eyes flick up to Ravn, "You know, nobody told me she worked for the cops. Found that out the other day when someone said something. Explains some things."

"I think Mac does some IT consulting? She helped me do a background check on, well, me, once. I don't think she's an official employee." Ravn continues to build his little jenga tower out of condiments before looking at Kyle. "Take a seat if you like -- talk games at Seth. Me, I haven't been serious about gaming since 2005 and The Sims 2 but then, I was born boring. Kyle, this is Seth -- your boss has yet to kick his arse in a game, but I think we all know that she will. Girl's got a competitive streak six miles wide and the skill to match it."

He beams as the server delivers his order at last -- a generously sized, smoking hot pizza consisting of ham, cheese, tomato, and large amounts of pineapple. The Dane is clearly one of those people, the heretic.

"Yeah yeah, I got it, I got it. Get off my case," comes a voice from the back. Tor emerges a moment later, tugging off the Pizza Kitchen apron before he flips up the end of the counter and exits. "Swear to god, you're going to make me regret giving you any overlap at all. Fuck, man." He doesn't seem bothered by the fact that there's customers in the restaurant.

Kyle looks a little nervously at Seth. But he nods at the comment about his boss and was about to say something when Ravn's meal is brought out. And for the first time atleast in the very limited time that Ravn's been around him he's rather animated. " Pineapple? On Pizza seriously? That's like a crime against nature... or at least food." He sits down without really thinking about it and is flailing slightly. Then his eyes go to the new arrival which of course he'd been on the receiving end of a delivery from the newest arrival before, but for some reason he flushes for just a second before quickly recovering.

"On that we agree." Seth comments to Kyle in response to the pineapple on pizza. "Fruit does not belong on pizza, and if you spout off to me that tomato is technically a fruit I will kick you in the shin, Darth. I have no qualms about making a grown man cry." Seth continues, though the later is said in a tone that is much less serious.

The enforcer looks over as Tor emerges, half expecting it to be his own pizza being delivered and frowning as the realization comes that it isn't. No baked dough for Seth yet, so he gets his yeast in a more liquidy way for now as he takes another sip of his beer.

"Considering that Hawaii is part of the United States I'm amazed that Pizza Hawaii is apparently a European thing. A Scandinavian thing, to be precise. And bloody hell, I'm feeling patriotic today." Ravn tucks in with great gusto, pausing only to pick a salt packet -- the bottom one from his little jenga tower of course. Does the tower fall? Of course not. "But if it's any consolation, the Italians agree with you. They just also think anything Americans have ever done to pizza should be considered a crime against humanity. Particularly things that involve deep pans."

"Pineapple, no. Poached pear? Fuck yeah." Tor is just going to insert himself into this conversation without being invited because hey, it's his family's joint and they're talking something he understands. "The superior fruit on pizza. Combine that with prosciutto instead of ham? You got yourself a flavour party." Then he says to Ravn, "Trivia? Canadian thing. Hawaiian pizza was invented in Ontario."

Kyle had been about to say that Tomato was a fruit, but quickly tries to cover it up. " Yeah fruit doesn't really go on ... " Then he trails off as Tor continues to talk much more knowledgeably about pizza than he can. He just has FEELINGS. But he tries to keep them to himself. Though he does give a look at Seth that shows he's in total agreement. Fruit (Other than tomato) does not go on pizza.

Eyeing Tor, Seth purses his lips and reaches up to scratch at the fuzzy growth he has accumulated on his face recently, "Ok, I will concede that the possibility of poached pear and prosciutto might be worth a try, and if the flavor profile is what I think it is, then I will amend my statement accordingly. Now where the fuck is my pizza?" the enforcer asks, but with a chuckle behind the words to show no real annoyance. "All I wanted was a pizza, and they wouldn't give it to me. It doesn't matter, I'll probably get run over by a car anyway..."

Devlin comes in with another Paramedic. It's clear that Devlin's off duty, for a guess, and the other one isn't. "I told you that was a sucker bet, Harry," Devlin laughs a bit as they enter. They walk up to the counter as the clerk stacks a half dozen pie boxs for pick up. Harry comments, "Never thought otherwise, that's why Tom got to pay for the pizza." Harry has a pretty good grin and is clearly pleased. A small PHD pie and beer are set off to the side of the stack. Devlin is the one that grabs those, "Let Tom know anytime he wants to try that again. I don't mind eating off his wallet." Harry walks off with what is clearly dinner for guys at the station. Devlin finally takes a moment to see where he is going to sit. "Oh, hey there Ravn, cat eating anything else wierd of late?" Devlin's tone carrying a slight tease to it.

Ravn eyes Tor speculatively at that statement. "Actually, that does sound damn good. You should consider putting it on the menu. Heaven knows honey melon wrapped in prosciutto is paradisical. I didn't know about Pizza Hawaii being Canadian, but considering that you work in a pizzaria and I just eat the things, I'll definitely take your word for it. Tor, isn't it? Think we met in Kicklebury once?"

The Dane honestly does look like someone who might well live in a trailer park. Old jeans, worn wind breaker, turtleneck -- all of it black, and though well fitted, none of it looks particularly expensive. He holds up a slice of pineapple covered pizza as the EMT comes in and greets him and grins. "No, because I haven't taken anything back for her yet. She's still on a diet of tuna and world domination."

"Hang on, man. I'll go yell at some people for you." Tor slaps a hand on the table and then goes up to the counter. "HEY MIKE. Where the hell is this guy's pizza? Also slap in a prosciutto and pear. Medium. OK?"

"What's with you and that fucking pizza, Tor?" come a voice from the back. "You try and sell the whole town on that?"

Tor waves a hand and turns back to the patrons. "It is on the menu. We're wood-fired, great toppings. Lots of options. Most people just order boring shit like meat lovers."

It's at that moment that Mike brings out Seth's meat lovers.

"Kicklebury? What....do you mean Huckleberry?"

Kyle stays quiet for the most part. He wasn't the world traveler that Ravn apparently was, he'd never really even left the town. Even when it was time to go to college he automatically went to the one in town. He was pretty much the quintessential townie. So after his initial outrage of fruit on pizza is over he goes back to his usual quiet self. Just watching and listening, for a moment then pulling out his phone and fiddling with it, while waiting for his own pizza to be brought.

Seth laughs at Tor, even with the comment about the boring shit. "Hey, I at least got a meat lover's with all the veg as well! But yeah, that's still pretty boring." Seth says with a shrug of his shoulder as the pizza is placed out in front of him. The enforcer reaches for the grated cheese, a slight grimace on his face as he overstretches just a bit, and applies the cheese liberally to the top of the pizza before extracting one of the thin-crust slices and taking a bite, the crush audibly crunching because it is so crisp. "It might be boring," Seth says though a mouthful of pizza, "but it's good!"

"Sometimes boring is the best.. especially after a screwed up day of saving people from their attempts at trying to earn a Darwin." Devlin smiles to that. He then spots an open table near Ravn's to take a seat at. "Don't know Ravn... I think Queso is plotting for domination also, just quieter about it." He chuckles as he sits, "Just the way I like it.. PHD.. no fruit or fish." He takes a bite of his pizza, and ahs, "So many times in country we'd dream of getting a delivered pizza or wings.. let alone a cold beer."

"Some day, our feline overlords will tire of us and learn to open their own cans and then humanity is done for." Ravn nods solemnly and scarfs down more fried pineapple, with obvious delight. Culinary barbarian that he is, he even salts it. "And yeah. Huckleberry, sorry. I can't tell you why, but for some reason those two words are utterly interchangeable for me. I keep getting them mixed up. Which is really bloody embarrassing considering that I live there."

He pauses a moment. "Well, for now, anyhow. I'm talking with another bloke about finding somewhere with two rooms and some communal space, shack up together."

"You do know what shacking up means on this side of the pond, right?" says Tor to Ravn. "Hey, not that I'm judgin'. Just making sure that isn't a language thing."

Tor engaging with the patrons seems to have lit a fire under the kitchen because Kyle gets his pizza, and the prosciutto and pear gets set in the middle of the table as well.

Boring pizza, Kyle's might be considered the most boring. And he looks a little sheepish as it arrives. He had ordered a cheese pizza. Granted it wasn't just mozzarella but basically every type of cheese the place had, but still it was pretty simple. And when it arrived he hesitantly reached for the grated cheese himself and put it on very liberally until every inch of it was thoroughly covered then he pick it up and takes a bite. Eyes darting around the group and realizing he's most definitely the most boring person here.
He does take a moment to stare at the pear and prosciutto pizza, as if considering it while taking another bit of his pizza, though its not clear if he's interested in the unusual pizza, or intimidated by it.

"You and your damn cats. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind cats, but I just prefer dogs," Seth says with a grunt as he takes another bite of his slice. "Big dogs at that. Huskies, Labs, Malamutes, Shepards. I mean, sure, cats are all independent and all, but..I don't know. I just like dogs."

The enforcer looks at the pizza placed down with the pear and prosciutto and eyes it warily.

Devlin grins a bit, "don't have a cat or dog. My cousin has both." He continues to eat, "Love getting the pie fresh out of a wood fired oven." He then continues, "Now, one of my medics.. when I am drilling, she has snakes.. we are talking like she could supply enough for twenty square feet of the Raider's scene. And another one has ferrets, a lot of them." He nods to Ravn, "I have not figured out what sort of fur Overlord I want in my home life... or if I want one. I get a good fur dose at the gallery for now."

"I meant becoming room mates," Ravn clarifies. "If there's any other meaning -- then it was unintentional, yeah. Other bloke's in a long distance relationship with a girl in the UK and I think she might have issues with that idea. Times like this I'm reminded that English isn't my native. Turns out calling myself a former boardwalk hustler gave some folks the wrong idea, too."

Almost as if to accentuate the idea that by 'hustler' he does in fact not mean 'male prostitute', the Dane picks up a paper packet of black pepper and sets it dancing across the knuckles of his gloved left hand while he continues to hold the pizza slice in his right; ambidexterity, or at least the emulation of it, is a thing. A bit of a showing off thing at that -- something which one might assume to be more than half of the actual trade of someone pulling confidence games on boardwalk tourists.

"I don't recall being given a say in the matter. Kitty walked on to my boat and granted me the privilege of serving her. I am a good servant." He grins at Seth and Devlin both, even as he reaches for a slice of that curious new pizza concoction. "Only snake I've met here is Rosencrantz' big python. She is clearly a cat in disguise -- and if you think convincing a snake that can wind four times around you to get out of a warm shirt is difficult, you're absolutely right."

"C'mon, Cheesy," says Tor to Kyle. Apparently he's bestowed a nickname. "It's not gonna bite. You bite it." He cracks a can of pop that he just help himself to from the cooler. He then reaches across the table to snag a slice for himself. "You too," he nods to Seth.

With his mouth full, he says to Ravn, "Shacking up means living with someone you're sleeping with. I think once upon a time it used to mean living with someone when you weren't married. But now it means livin' and fuckin'." He's such a charmer

"I have two ferrets," The brown haired youth says in his soft voice. feeling the need to contribute something to the conversation so people don't think he's weird for not talking. His eyes go wide as Tor opens his mouth and he just turns crimson. And without even seeming to realize it he instantly grabs a piece of the other pizza. Someone had asked him to so it was second nature to just do as he was asked. And from the confused look on his face he hadn't even really realized that he wasn't still eating his cheese pizza. The stops looks thoughtful after making a surprised face, then takes another bite with a look of deep consideration on his face.

"I don't want to know about Itz' python man," Seth says good-naturedly to Ravn. "So you are going to move out of Vic's place? Does she know? Just in case she wants to try and find another tenant, or if we need to winterize the place or whatever. If nobody is staying there we need to do something about it. Bonus though, you reduce the risk of her crawling naked into bed with you when she is drunk." Seth smirks, lifting his glass to his lips.

Seth drops the slice of pizza he is eating to the plate in front of him and reaches to grab one of the fruity/salty slices. He sniffs at it, then shrugs and takes a bite out of the thing, chewing slowly to let the flavors mingle. He raises a brow and nods his head slightly, "Not bad..not bad at all. I may have to amend my statement."

Devlin cringes a bit, "ok... definitely does not make for a good roommate when that happens and I thought barracks were bad." He nods a bit towards Kyle, "Never lived around ferrets myself, just seen pictures. What's it like taking care of them? I hear they get into trouble alot.. just not the hows and whats"

"Well, I'm not moving anywhere until we find the right place to move to," Ravn points out. "I rented the trailer for the winter -- Vic knows I'll be moving out and back to my boat in April anyhow. I was pretty much just planning to stay put until then and look for the right place for two single guys -- or, well, one single guy and one guy whose girlfriend is on the other side of the planet. That said, Rosencrantz' python is absolutely gorgeous, three times as long as my arm, thick and meaty and powerful, and an interesting mix of white and yellow."

He's clearly not above that level of joke either.

Biting into the prosciutto and pear he chews thoughtfully and then declares, "This is gold. You have officially struck gold. Make this the new thing Scandinavia can steal and claim that we invented."

"I told you guys. Ham and pineapple is just the chump's version of poached pear and prosciutto. It's not fruit on pizza, it's garbage fruit and garbage meat. Well, not //garbage/. But definitely shittier."

Funny, Tor doesn't look like the guy who'd have a good palette but growing up in a quasi-gourmet pizza place'll help with that.

He pauses a moment, chews and then goes, "Wait. Am I the only one here without some kinda pet?"

"Well you have to ferret proof the place, or have them really well trained... And unless you have the supernatural power to control animals... They tend to get into everything. They spend most of their time In their cage, or if you have room you can spend a lot of time and make them a play room." He seems to be getting excited about talking about his pets and grins, then he stops almost mid sentence when Ravn starts to make jokes about someone's snake. And once again he's silent and crimson, and taking another big bite of pizza... Which without thinking about it he'd put a piece of his cheese pizza on bottom and a piece of the ham one of top and made quite and unusual sandwich out of them.

"I don't have one." Seth quips, "I was just saying I like dogs. I don't own one."

The enforcer takes another bite from the pear pizza and chews slowly, "Yeah. This is some good shit. I approve."

He looks over at Kyle, "You can control animals? Fuck me, I didn't know that was a thing."

Devlin picks things up, "Sounds like ferrets have a lot of challenges but a lot of fun and affection to. Otherwise, why go to those lengths." He nods to Seth, "Good stuff and yeah, I love a lot of critters. I happen to like horses too. Got an Aunt that owns a few.. even does some Ren Faire stuff with horses. Not something I'd do. Not enough desire to invest the time into their care, let alone my wallet being fat enough. Now Ferrets from what," He looks to Kyle, "you were saying sound a whole lot more manageable than horses.. somehow though.. when I do take care of Queso for my cousin.. have a funny feeling that would not work with a ferret."

"Pretty sure that in my case, the animal controls me, not the other way around," Ravn murmurs with a small smile. "She's not shy about making her demands known, but she's not the most demanding girlfriend I've had, either. That said? I'm positive it's a thing, I've seen people do it to those bloody Veil kittens."

He glances back at the counter. "I wonder if they serve Italian coffee here. As in, something Italians would recognise as coffee." For a moment, hope burns bright in the Dane's grey eyes.

"Dude, do not order the coffee here. It's mostly for the staff, and we mostly use it as a caffeine hit to keep us awake on the night shift."

Tor takes another slice of pizza and slurps from his drink. "Aren't ferrets basically furry, kinda smelly noodlecats?"

"They aren't smelly! Okay they're not that smelly as long as you take care of them. And you know how to take care of them. Weirdly that means not bathing them often. Bathing them too often actually makes them smell worse. But they are cute carpet shark fuzzy slinkies." He side steps the whole question about powers. He takes another bite out of his sandwich. "If you do get one though get atleast 2. They get bored and lonely if you can't spend a lot of time with them unless they have a friend."

Devlin says, "Sounds like not a good pet for a first responder and my crazy schedule. I worry that I wouldn't be good for a dog or cat.. so.. no pets. Though there were a couple of camp dogs and cats we had when I was deployed. Helped get a few of them over to the states into good families too."

"That actually sounds like my kind of coffee. Proper coffee, Wild West style. Plop a horseshoe in the kettle -- if it floats, the coffee's strong enough." Ravn looks severely tempted, and then glances at Kyle. "Humans are the only mammals I know of that can exist all on their own, without company of some sort. Every other species ends up depressed and aggressive if left alone for extended periods of time. I'm not sure whether that makes us better mammals, or worse."

He nods approvingly at the EMT. "My mother owned Siamese cats. Terribly fancy creatures, very expensive. So fragile that they fell over if you looked at them wrong. I very much have no intention of ever buying a pet from a breeder after seeing those. There are plenty strays that need homes."

"Hey, your funeral!" says Tor to Ravn. And then he stands up and snaps and smacks his fist against the palm.

"Gotta go, gents. But come by TIBS. I am attempting to bartend there. Gonna let the young'uns step in and start schlepping pizzas." Considering he's been doing it since he was 16.

With that, the scruffy local makes his way outside, to where the cherry red classic Mustang is parked.

"Well as long as they have a buddy its fine. As long as you give them toys or something. They also sleep like all the time exept when they're doing stuff so.... They are great you can play with them any time and they'll be happy and hyper then go back to bed when you stop playing with them usually." He smiles some, "Mostly though you need to make sure they get like an hour of play out of their cage a day, doesnt have to be like... at a certain time just you know once a day." He then goes back to taking another bite of his pizza as he watches the scruffy other local leave, then hears a bing from his phone and grimaces. "Really? I just got OFF a shift. Got to go Boss needs me to watch the store for a few... I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm actually like an Npc that she can summon." With that he's running out the door after tossing some cash at the register.

Devlin nods and chuckles, "My woodelf rogue would have something to say about.. not to mention kick my ass for not playing in over a year.." He sighs, "Life happens. Have a great one Kyle. And don't let the work get you down. It's how you earn the right to be a way point for money.."

Ravn glances at Devlin a moment as if wondering what exactly he means by 'my wood elf rogue'. He seems to reach the conclusion that the other man must be referencing a game -- because wood elves aren't real, right? It's just that around here, a lot of things that technically aren't real don't always seem to have gotten that memo, and reality in Gray Harbor seems to the Dane like a bowl of jell-o; it ripples and wobbles, and if you're lucky, it doesn't taste too awful.

Life is like a bowl of jell-o. Take that, Forrest Gump.

"I think I might not brave the coffee. Listen to the natives and all that." He shakes his head and then looks at the EMT a second time. "Say, were you part of the clean-cup crew after the shoot-out at the GHPD? I was kind of wondering who the hell that lieutenant who started shooting people was."

Devlin shakes his head, "I am just as in the dark as you are on that one. Just waiting to hear about the fallout is all. Sometimes the Fire Department does a great head in sand game.. enough to make an Ostrich jealous." He finishes his pie, "I do still play D&D. It's fun."

"Myes." Ravn winces at the memory. "I was there, that's why I ask. Receptionist's head exploded. I was hoping, maybe, to find out that the guy is on a one-way train to somewhere unpleasant, but I imagine you know how it is. I'll read about it in the paper when the police is ready to tell us what happened, and why. Or maybe they'll cover it up and I won't. Dirty cops are bad news and not very confidence inspiring."

Devlin nods, "Almost as bad as a bad medic..." He hmms, "So any other interesting stuff going on?"

The Dane curls his gloved fingers around his beer glass. After an entire Hawaii pizza and a slice of pear and prosciutto on top, he's not about to order more food, that's for sure. Where someone on the skinny side like him puts it all is anyone's guess. "You know how this town is... I'm tempted to say, nothing out of the usual? Folks turn up with weird cuts and scrapes and claim to have seen strange things, it's Wednesday in Gray Harbor. My dead fiancee turned up a week ago and tried to murder me, and three other folks. That was a Friday, granted."

Flippant? Maybe a little. Maybe Ravn can afford to be -- he survived, and so did the other three, but the dead girlfriend stayed, well, more dead.

Seth wanders back from the bathroom to retake his seat at the booth, flopping down into the pleather clad booth with a squeak, glancing between Ravn and Devlin, trying to get an idea of where the conversation has gone while he was away

Devlin nods, "Makes you wonder if this was really Rod Serling's real home town.. Yeah, I have had some fucked up.. moments. Still wrapping my head around some of them."

"Yeah, it kind of ... does." Ravn can only agree. "I guess that as long as no one ends up dead or disappeared, all's well that ends well? I'm still processing the fact that that bloke killed a woman just because she was being noisy. I have a harder time with that than I do with any screwed-up Veil creature trying to murder me for shit and giggles. I expect that kind of aggression from the Veil. Not so much from, well, other people. Speaking of which, I never noticed that Kyle there had the shine before. He's a quiet guy -- smart enough to not play Smash Bros with his boss, though, so that gives him one up on me."

Devlin sips on his beer, "Yeah, I've seen so much stupid.. it takes special stupid to get my attention these days. Wife stabs hubby in a fight.. calls nine one one... and then yells at me for having to move her aside so I can treat the guy. Hell, got stabbed once myself.. lucky for me she was not that strong. Had to tie her ass up so I could treat him. And of course there are the apologetic wife beaters that suddenly attack you when realize the excuse is sooo much bullshit. Tends to happen in the ER most times."

Devlin says, "All in a normal days work.."

"The only way you get better is if you play," Seth comments as he takes a sip from his beer. "Playing someone that is good only helps since you are learning how to counter against someone that knows what they are doing. It just takes time. Will you ever beat her? Maybe not, but you might...but only if you practice." Seth says with a chuckle. "Besides, it's just a damn game. It's not like her beating you in it is going to kill you or anything."

Then Devlin gets all serious and Seth just shrugs and goes back to eating his pizza. We don't talk about his normal day of work. Nope.

Ravn smirks lightly and takes a sip from his beer as well. "You're assuming, my friend, that I want to get better. I don't really care about computer games. I certainly can take a beating from Mac without getting a bruised ego. Will I ever tell her that? Absolutely not -- she has entirely too much fun ribbing me. Something about me makes Mac want to take me down a notch, and hey, who am I to tell her she can't have any fun?"

He glances at Devlin and nods, slightly more serious about that. "A lot of people are just rotten, I guess. They don't need the Veil to help them be bad people, they manage perfectly fine on their own. This is why I don't like people. I make exceptions for folks around here who act rational and reasonable or just plain kind. Humanity in general? I was doing perfectly fine without it before I got here, and if I were to pick up and leave, I think I would be again."

Devlin says, "If your not challenged, you don't get better or more creative. Practice is what it takes or drilling. I keep telling my medics to never handle a soldier's shit as same shit different day." He nods in agreement with Seth. "I love individuals.. but man.. people" He sighs. "And yet.. here I am trying to help them anyways. At least with Smash Bros losing is fun. Would trade getting my ass beat in that game to loosing in my job any day of the week,"

Seth nods over to Devlin in agreement. "Fair enough, Darth. If it isn't your thing then no sweat. I just had assumed since you were playing you had a stake in the game."

"I've got a stake in not being an anti-social asshole," Ravn murmurs. "I'm not really a computer games kind of bloke, but I do enjoy hanging out. It's clearly a big deal to Mac -- not beating me, but playing. She can have her victories. I'll still get back at her for the damn horse picture sometime."

He chuckles. "When I'm on my own, what I do is read, really. Play my violin, research. I'm not a very social creature. I am trying to maybe loosen up a little on that."

Devlin says, "May be we should get together some time, I play guitar as you know. Music is a great way to just exercise some demons and just relax. Been a long time since I have played with others.. last time was in Afghanistan.. just a few of us together at night. Had a grill and running some nice steaks along with some vegis.. no beer sadly. Still was a great evening.. no one got called to pull a dust off."

"I...don't play an instrument," Seth says with a shrug. "But I can BBQ. Maybe I should throw a block party or something sometime. People can bring their instruments and jam or whatnot and I will fire up various meats."

"You should consider talking to Rosencrantz, then. Have you heard him play the violin? He performs at the piano bar at Sitka every so often -- and he's good enough that I actually went there to see him once, in spite of how posh that place is. Had the audience eating out of his hand, too." Ravn nods with interest at them both. "I won't subject people to my practising at them, but I'd definitely be up for coming around for a barbecue, having some beers, and listening. There's got to be half a dozen people in this town at least who would love to put on a little show like that, have some fun."

Devlin says, "Camp fires, BBQ.. the coffee shop, that's my speed. Entertain a crowd paying to see me.." He laughs, "Well above my pay grade. I am in it for the fun.. so a BBQ, yeah, I'd be there." He grins to Ravn, "Bet you could play the violin parts for stuff like Dust in the Wind or Kashmir. Even if you don't do great, just fun to do them. Kind of how I learned a lot of covers.. even some country music on my end. Not my favorites but hey... some of those country boys learned a bit of rock with me."

"Maybe once the weather warms up we will go a beach party with a big old bonfire," Seth says with a nod as he chomps away on more pizza. "See if we can't just get the whole community to have one big party."

"I'm mostly classical," Ravn murmurs and stacks another few condiment packets into his by now quite large jenga tower. At some point, other empty tables nearby are probably going to wonder where their condiments baskets went -- and the answer is, indeed, that they floated over to the Dane's hand on the sly when no one was looking. It's entirely possible he didn't even notice; his hands have a habit of acting independently at times. "Reckon a barbecue should be more -- singalong style. Stuff that everyone knows and loves. Or someone jazzing along on a violin until the ladies swoon and the gentlemen rethink their orientation, but that's where Rosencrantz comes in."

He looks back at Devlin as Seth speaks. "Like the bonfire festival last autumn? Think that was just before you decided to settle into town, Seth, or at least I don't remember seeing you around back then. I was still on my boat and working at the Twofer, and for a week it was just bonfires and party goers and people getting delightfully drunk everywhere on the beach and the marina."

Devlin chuckles, "And a few runs to the beach for me getting alcohol poisoned people to the hospital. Grand times in deed. I won the how many times your shoes get puked on pool last season." He smirks, "Grunts and responders.. bookies would love us if they could keep up.." Devlin then ponders, "With a little experience and practice.. bet I could pick up some classical too. Still the same chords.. just how you use them is all."

"Uh, sure. Sounds like what I was thinking. " Seth confirms. "Must have been happening just before I came back."

"Dude, you should keep an official tally if we make a bonfire spring party happen," Ravn tells Devlin. "Everybody who pukes on a paramedic's feet donates twenty bucks to charity. Alcohol poisoning too. If we add a ten bucks' penalty for getting abducted into a weird dream or otherwise having a run-in with the paranormal, we'll end homelessness in Washington State within a week. I ended up whale watching in a waking dream sequence at the bonfire festival -- definitely not the worst dream experience I've had."

Devlin says, "Kind of like Pop's swear can in Luke Cage.. I'd be broke in less than an hour there after a serious Darwin award run." He takes a good pull of his beer. "Nothing wrong with a smaller party either. Just a few friends about a fire, cooler full of beers, lots of great stuff cooking. Yeah, fun times. Best times."