2021-02-24 - House Hunters

The motel room is small, and Wes was starting to get stir-crazy. This led to him dragging Casey out after collecting every local paper and brochure around town that was even slightly related to finding living accommodations. Now they're at the bar at a table and Wesley has spread them out. "Ok. We need to find a place. Time to narrow this down. I know you're used to living crammed in a dorm room but I want our own space."

Casey laughs, "I haven't been in a dorm for almost four years now. I haven't regressed back into my college days. Even though the motel kind of feels like it." Casey bumps against Wes' shoulder as the two of them look at the pile of material that Wes brought with him and Casey has out his phone looking through apartment listings and homes for rent in the area. "I need tater tots, though. House hunting requires tater tots."

"Mmmmhmmm. Well, I need more space." Wesley states. "The motel life is not for me. Oooh, tator tots do sound good. And nachos. And a Coke. What do you want?" He asks of Casey as he starts sifting through the local paper, trying to find the classifieds section, or wherever the rentals are listed. "Do we care about pets? That seems to cost more."

"We don't have any pets," Casey points out. "Unless you plan on getting one now that we're here?" He then gets up and says, "I'll order. You look." He heads over to the bar and orders them up a couple of orders of tots, some nachos, and a couple of cokes before he makes his way back over to the table and falls into his seat next to Wes. "Hey, I don't love the motel life either but I was hoping Tatti was going to help with all of this." He chuckles. "It's fine. We'll figure it out."

"I mean, not specifically. I just see it in all the ads. 'Pets.' 'No Pets.' It's a thing." Wesley pulls off his winter hat and scratches behind his ear absently as he studies the listings. "Okay, sure." He replies absently when Casey says he'll get the order in, and reaches to pull a pen from his pocket that he swiped from the motel. He circles one of the listings. "This one is three bedrooms, with two bathrooms, and says it has brand new carpet." There's a glance at the other man when he mentions Tatti, shrugging.

"I think we can safely go with no pets for now. If we decide we want a pet sometime, then we can just.. wait til our lease is up and move someplace that allows pets," Casey says as he stretches out his legs and picks up one of the little real estate booklets while Wes thumbs through the classifieds. "New carpet's not a bad thing. Do we need three bedrooms? I guess it'd give us more space.."

After 4pm on a wintery Wednesday afternoon finds Harper pushing through the doors of TIBS. Two-toned boots that are reminiscent of old style bowling shoes, brick red tights, a blue dress -- it looks like -- under a wool peacoat topped off by a knit cap atop dark hair that trails down over her shoulders. The woman smiles at someone who is exiting as she is entering and turns around to finish a short, pleasant conversation with them with a blind backstep before swinging back around and heading for the bar as she pulls off brown knit mittens, addressing the bartender on the afternoon shift. "Hi there. I am in dire need of a rum and coke. Storytime got a little..." The colorfully attired woman makes a sock puppet motion with her right hand with fingers and thumb popping apart and back together again like a mouth opening and closing. "... bitey today." She gets a look from the 'tender and smiles ruefully. "I know. Right? Bobby's been allowed to watch one too many werewolf movies." Reaching into her pocket, she pulls out her wallet and slides cash across the bar, then turns to lean back into her elbows while she waits for her drink to scan the sparse afternoon crowd. Inevitably, her attention lands on the two handsome young men sitting at the table with a newspaper and a boatload of real estate material. A genuine bit of a smile curves at the corners of her lips as she unapologetically watches them for a bit.

"We could have a game room. Or an office. Or a guest room...?" Wesley taps the pen on the paper, looking at Casey, "What about gym and pool access? This next one says it has a gym and pool. Aaaand..." He looks down at it, "Oh wait, that's not even in Gray Harbor. God, this is the worst. Why is this so hard? OH. This one says all utilities are included and the security deposit is waived. And no lease. They allow month-to-month. We should definitely look at that. Flexible." He looks up briefly, eyes tracking Harper as he idly chews on the end of the pen. "It doesn't say what the rent is though." He murmurs when he manages to drag his attention back to the task at hand, already exhaling a frustrated sigh.

"If it doesn't say what the rent is, it's probably more than we can afford," Casey says with a little bit of a sidelong grin. "Or it's a crack den. If it's all utilities and month to month with no lease." He leans over to take a look at the listing. "Does it have pictures?" Because if it doesn't have pictures, he's even more dubious. "What's the address? I can look it up on my phone." He glances up and over in Harper's direction when he eventually /feels/ eyes on him and offers her a little bit of a grin. "This is not a spectator sport. If you're going to watch, you have to come over and help us look."

Three things happen at once. Harper's drink is slid up next to her elbow on the bartop. She makes eye contact with Casey. And he demands spectators join the game. She grabs her drink and the cocktail napkin, thanks the bartender, then strolls over to the table with the slightly younger men. "Not everyone who stares is good company," she warns the both of them, stuffing her mittens into a jacket pocket and pulling out a chair at their table. Setting her R&C on the table somewhere that doesn't clutter pamphlet mountain, she shrugs out of her jacket and folds it over the arm of her chair and then takes a seat. "I'm Harper. You two new in town?" It's a polite question to ask when you've already watched two men talking about places to live being better than motel life. "What sort of place are you looking for?" Either the first question was for show or she's expecting it will be answered in a manner indicative of what sort of company the men will be.

"I'll just cross it off the list." Wesley says, scribbling over the advertisement. "It didn't even have the address, just a phone number." He looks up again when Casey calls out the woman at the bar and a smirk pulls at his lips. As she sits down to join them, he grins. "Very new. And we have no idea where to find a place." He says. "I'm Wes. That's Casey." When asked of what sort of place they're looking for he lets out a dramatic, "I have no idea." And just slumps back in the chair. "Somewhere fun."

"That's sketchy as hell," Casey says with a laugh and seems to agree with the just crossing it off the list. He chuckles when Harper comes over and says, "Not everyone who stares is bad company either. But the only way to find out is to find out." He smiles as a server comes over and drops off their cokes, letting them know their food will be right up. Then his attention turns back to Harper and he nods as Wes introduces them, "Very very new. Though we were both born here .. but neither of us remember it, really. As for what sort of place? Someplace big enough for both of us and my sister, Tatti. So, at the very least a two bedroom, and probably three if we want some kind of office or game room or guest room.. thing. We're figuring on renting since we're not sure how long we're committed to being here." Then he grins, "Nice to meet you, Harper. Sorry to hear about the uh.. biting." Yes, he'd overheard.

At the introduction she nods to each man in turn, then repeats their names, "Wes. Casey. It's a pleasure." Wes' dramatic flumph back in his seat drags another easy smile to Harper's lips, compassionate or amused, or a little of both. Casey's rejoinder draws a pleasant roll of laughter from the librarian. Both men were born in Gray Harbor. Harper nods slowly as the lack of memory is noted. "That's frequently the case, at least in my own anecdotal experience, when people come back.

"Did you come back here together?" The interest lives behind the woman's warm, brown eyes. "So: three of you. Do you prefer a house to apartments or condos?" They're not sure how long they'll be here. Harper lowers a sagacious gaze to her drink as she reaches for it and takes a healthy swallow. The number of rooms tells a story all on its own. And Harper's a good listener.

"So you're a trio of free-spirits. That's refreshing." Harper has a way of sounding genuine rather than sarcastic. Casey sympathizes with the mini-werewolf situation and Harper smiles wryly. "Ah, you heard that? Bitey Bobby and his antics? I managed to get my shoe between his teeth and Annie's thigh, but just barely." She lifts up a boot a foot or so for a moment, and sure enough there are three small teeth marks near the toe.

"There's a house down my block that has a rental sign up. But I don't know their price range, or yours." She gives Casey the address slowly if he chooses to check it out in his phone. "It's a sweet neighborhood. But everyone knows everyone. You can't really escape that for long in a town this size." She swirls the ice cubes in her glass a time or two. "What are you hoping to do here?" aka What's the golden thread or deal with the devil? "Aside from charming the socks off the other locals, of course."

Wes starts chewing on the end of the pen again, grin pulling at his lips. Then the drinks are set on the table and he reaches for his Coke, having a long sip. "I mean, I wasn't even a month old when I left, soooo..." There's another shrug for the lack of memory. Harper gets a grin, "I've really only ever lived in a house. And a motel room, more recently. I feel like something between those two ranges would be a good start." He lifts his brows then as Harper talks of the rental near her, asking, "But is it a fun neighborhood? Are there parties? Do people have a good time?" A pause, "Oh, and are there a lot of dogs? I like to go running and dogs are a factor." He looks at Casey, "What's our price range?"

Casey leans back in his seat and listens to Harper with a bit of amusement. He lets his arm drape across the back of Wes' chair. "Yeah, we all came back here together," he tells Harper, though he chuckles a little bit at the term free spirits. "I suppose? We're mostly curious about the place we were born. Our parents, Tatianna's and mine, died in a weird accident, and we're kind of curious about finding out about that." He doesn't tell Wes' story because that's not his story tot ell, however. He smiles a little bit at the werewolf deflection maneuver and says, "Quick reflexes, there. Impressive."

He does take out his phone and taps in the address that Harper gives him, though, pulling up the listing and taking a look at it while she and Wes talk about what they're looking for. "We grew up in a little podunk town east of here," he says absently. "We kind of know how the small town thing goes." Once he pulls up the listing he says, "Our price range is.." and he proceeds to give a range that means they're definitely not buying a house on Bayside, but neither are they going to be relegated to a dump on Elm, either.

Harper dips her chin in response to Wes' one month long Gray Harbor past. The man chewing on the pen grins and Harper's brown eyes sparkle in response. "You definitely have a range there."

Harper's neighborhood? "I'd say it would be considered more of an established neighborhood than frat party central, but there are those of us who like to let our hair down." The raven-haired woman tips up one brow in what might be a breath of a challenge. Really. What sort of fun do librarians -- or at least women who run interference with biting children -- get up to? "I haven't counted the dogs, but there are a few. I have a Shiba Inu who happens to be the reincarnation of a famous humanist. She might or might not be the smartest dog in the world, all bias aside," she deadpans. "I doubt she'd interfere with your running unless it involved a track that ran through the house without her prior approval."

Harper doesn't bat an eye at the tale of Casey's parents. "Not an uncommon tragedy for Gray Harbor, but I am truly sorry for your loss." The words don't sound at all foreign to Harper, though it would be difficult to question her sincerity.

She glances from Casey to her shoe and back again. "Just a lucky, blind block. This --" She half lifts the drink in her hand. "-- is to celebrate not having concussed a four-year-old patron of my library instead of blocking a bite." Speaking of, she takes another healthy swallow of the R&C.

"You should drive by the place. See what you think. I believe the owner is pretty flexible between rent and lease options." You'd have to be with real estate in Gray Harbor. "Any other prospects look good?" She lists Byron's high end real estate despite the range that Casey describes. "Then again, I know some people who are very happy in (trailer park name). They're a tight group of people who tend to watch out for each other." She nods belatedly. Oh yes. Harper is familiar with the small town 'thing'. Or at least this small town's things.

Wesley leans over towards Casey to get a look at the phone screen when he finds the listing. "Oh... nice. Tatti would like that one." The young man smirks, "Yeah, small town. My dad is a cop. So... used to everyone knowing everyone for sure." He nods as she describes the neighborhood and her dog, then studies Harper more intently with curiosity on his face. "Why is everyone always talking about ... like... bad stuff around here? People keep telling me to stay away from the 'mill', and that 'things are coming'. Is there really that much trouble here?" He reaches a hand up absently to rest his on Casey's wrist along the back of the chair.

Casey seems content to listen, chuckling a little bit about the pre-approval of the running track through the house. The bit about it being a not-uncommon tragedy earns a little bit of a curious look, and a glance over in Wes' direction. But Wes is the one who echoes the questions that are on his mind about the badness that's been brought up around them a few times now. He studies the listing and then nods to Wes, "Let's check this one out. I'm bookmarking it and adding it to the -- too be looked at -- list." Which he does with one thumb, seeming adept at working the phone with just one hand. Though he glances between Wes and Harper to see what she has to say about all the 'bad things'.

Harper watches Wesley and Casey as if they were putting on le Grand Guignol for a sole audience of one. Then comes the question -- that question. Harper fixes a sharper, more candid gaze on Wesley and drifts in over her crossed legs to rest her forearms atop her upper knee, her voice more quiet, more confidential at the table addressing both of the men. "Tell me Wes: are you a proponent of the belief that fixing your attention on something dark or evil gives it power?" She simply remains there, still, as if the answer to the question would be a tipping point of one kind or another. Or ... she could just be that damned good at putting on a show or toying with the duo.

"Sure. We can pretend we're on House Hunters and narrow it down to our top three choices and give them quirky names. Cleary I've watched that show way too much when my mom has it on." Wesley says with a grin, but when Harper leans in and gives that very cryptic answer his brows furrow. He responds in a drawn out fashion, "I ... would have to say... yes. Anytime something gets attention it's going to get power. I suppose? I'm confused."