2021-03-18 - Don't call me Nicki!

It is 9:49 in the morning. There's a fog as thick as... well other things beyond today will be compared to it for what it's worth. It's like wading through the ghost of cotton stuffing from baby blankets past. It also smells and tastes sweet like ozone as people wade through the cool damp that seems to saturate everything without somehow being cold as the world rains up in slow motion.

Joey is still recovering from fall and getting his lungs in order and if he wasn't he might still be on a walk. He dropped the car off early and told Nicole 'oh yeah we'll walk to the Grizz. It's no far how bad could it be? He's going to eat those words with his morning Hungry Man Omelette.

Ravn is not thrilled about the fog either. It's doing a number on his asthma, and he walks at a slow pace as not to get his pulse up too high. A smart man might have decided to just eat his cereal at home, but Ravn is not a smart man -- at least not when it comes to these things. Ever since he found himself facing a zombie horde on the beach last summer, and relying completely on other people to save him from it, he's been trying to push the limits of what he can do. Or at least not let his condition deteriorate further. He really should give up smoking too, but sometimes, it's the only thing that keeps his hands from doing all kinds of things they shouldn't be doing.

Really, getting shot through the chest didn't help either. Neither did the forced downtime while recovering, and this is the main reason that Ravn walks; he was just starting to enjoy not being rendered completely unable to breathe by a brisk walk and now he has to start over again. And by all things small and sacred and quite a few big and profane, he will do so.

Thank God for inhalers. He plods along towards the Diner, hands buried deep in the pockets of his new leather jacket, keeping an eye on the road because in this pea soup, cars can definitely not see him well enough to brake in time and pancake is not his life aspiration.

Nicole and Joey have taken a lot of walks together while he has been recovering. Her recovery was much shorter, and not hindered by further injury. At first, the walks were short, but slowly, they grew longer and longer over time. It helps that there are a couple adorable dogs that require fresh air and exercise. But, with breakfast dangling before them at the end of the line like a carrot on a string, the dogs are not currently with them.

But this fog stuff... this fog stuff is for the birds. It is moist, and heavy and makes Nicole feel like it is weighing her down, slowing her steps. Not to mention, they can barely see ahead of themselves as they walk. They have to rely more on sound than sight, and even that is a bit muffled. At least there is food at the end of this walk. Nicole has a healthy appetite and might just have to have a Hungry Man Omelette too.

Pancake is something to EAT for breakfast not something to BE BY breakfast. Ravn's not wrong. Joey'll give him the TALK about smoking...once it's not hypocritical for him to do so. He's got no leg to stand on in this one. Phone out though he tries to focus it on Nicole and murmurs "This is totally gonna cut into your Instagram. It's gonna have to be an 'eventuallygram'. Sorry, doll." And then he looks up and stops JUST short of running into Ravn. The shield goes up to provide an air buffer to keep from colliding with the guy with the nerve...thing.

Does Joey even seem to be aware he's doing this? No! Infuriatingly not because he's more worried about running down his pal with 205 pounds of Angry Irishman. "Dude, you okay? How the fuck are you so tall and so obscured?" He pauses and looks to Nicole proudly, "Alexander's book says that means you can't be seen for shit."

"I ate my broccoli as a kid?" Ravn has no real useful answer for how he became so tall. Probably because his father was. And his father before him. "Hello, you two. Careful, the fog here is -- the cars can't see us, we have to watch out on our own. You guys headed for the Diner?" He's got a new leather jacket since last; probably because the old one got slashed first and then acquired bullet holes.

"Eventuallygram," Nicole chuckles trying to pose for Joey. "I don't know. It might make for pretty amazing spooky pictures. Kind of like a filter. I should play with my camera in this more." She turns her head to look around, picturing the view through a lense when Joey stops short. She stops as well, eyes wide in surprise as to why before she sees Ravn right in front of them. It takes her a moment and a couple blinks before she smiles and says, "oh hey!" Pursing her lips together when Joey explains 'obscured' to her, trying not to smile at him. "Oh! I did not know that." She did though.

"Yesss.. Food. You? I am starving. I want... pancakes... or or... a skillet with potatoes and eggs and cheese and sausage gravy and and and... god, we close yet?"

Joey murmurs to the cars not being able to see them simply, "Makes it harder for them to hunt us down then." Still he looks over Ravn to assess. Okay, good. Relaxing he murmurs, "Yeah. Come eat with us. I'm buying." He turns and says simply, "Don't argue, just eat, man. You're doing your...thing over there. Should get a break. " Looking around he looks to Nicole, "Yeah it's just there."

Or should be. As they walk in the fog though things start to just become a fluffy white wall of fog. "So how's all that goin anyways? Someone tried to do something like that a while ago, but, ya know, asshole dicked people over on the cash and fucking embezzled it. Fucking DO NOT miss that guy. When I was a kid though."

"In the immortal words of Dennis Leary -- just put the cow on the table, we'll carve off what we want to eat and ride the rest home?" Ravn nods amicably and falls into stride. He's generally not at all bad with being told what to do -- as long as the orders given are what he wants to hear. "Doing all right -- for an eighties movie montage. I mean, that's what we're doing. Could hire professional renovator people but doing it the hard way is the whole point. We're trying to tell a story -- that old and well tested and tried one where a couple of guys start a project that looks ridiculous but at the end of the movie the whole town is involved and somebody says, the true prize was the friendships you made."

"Mm," Nicole murmurs when Joey speaks about cars hunting them. Dark brown eyes start to look aside into the fog, as if expecting some Christine Mother Fucker to come out of it. She isn't all caught up with what Ravn is busy doing 'over there' or why he needs a break or such, nor does she currently ask. Instead, she will listen to Joey ask and hopefully Ravn to answer. Meanwhile, they reach the door and Nicole reaches to open it, holding it for the others. "Those kind of movies always make my nose tickler tickle." Meaning, it makes her sniffle and tear up a bit.

What the fuck is pretty similar in tone in most languages. What Ravn says is, "Hvad fanden..?" but the meaning is clear enough, even without a dictionary. The tall Dane looks around and then looks back at the other two, and then around again, and then back again -- he actually looks a little comical trying to take it all in. And then, because this is Gray Harbor, his next reaction is to scan the room for signs of threats; anyone wielding an axe? Any obvious serial killers with ice picks? Dinosaurs? Sharknados?

"Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore," he murmurs. "Either of you recognise this place?"

Not even realizing what she opened the door to, it takes Ravn's exclamation to make Nicole peek inside. She doesn't seem to let go of the handle yet though. She does, however, look to Ravn then Joey. "Um..." She tilts her head and looks in. Is it the normal Laundromat she used to frequent when she lived in the trailer?

Joey really doesn't need Alexander's tiny book for that one. There's a frown and Joey stops at the door looking around and decides with a frown, "I'm not eating anything that comes out of there." Looking around he too has no fucking idea. He frowns, "It was across the street. How's it like... over...there?" Behind and to the left? There is a deep sigh and he looks to the rest of them, "Traffic's fucking with our food again." Not like there's a single car so far, but sure. There's resigned defeat in having to walk...more. "Let's get to an intersection and we'll find a sign." Looking to Nicole he reaches out and takes her hand. In case running, or so they're not separated like the OTHER TIME THERE WAS NO FUCKING SCENERY and Quinn was taken away. "Ravn and his pal are working on opening a community center to help get people back on their feet again. I talked to the boss. He game me the number of folks that'll pay under the table for contractor stuff if you got a layman."

"I would hope not," Nicole comments with another peek inside. "The vending machine stuff is probably five years old." Trying to figure out how they got here, and not the diner... or how the laundromat got here instead of the diner just makes her more confused. She nods, taking Joey's hand as he holds it out to her. No getting separated. She had enough of that in certain other moments, even if she wasn't the one lost. Hand in hand, they walk some more. "Oh! That is awesome! Let me know if I can help man," she says, over her shoulder in Ravn's general direction, if she can even still see him in this soup.

"It's not the Laundromat downtown -- that one's got a new owner and they redecorated it all to look like a watermelon on steroids." Ravn sounds almost absentminded as he comments on the new look of Suds'n'Duds -- a place which this very much isn't. "I guess we managed to wander off the path and the planet in the fog. Should have seen that one coming."

Six months in Gray Harbor and one's so accustomed to the idea of falling out of reality that the shocked response is just, okay then, let's find a way to fall back in.

He smiles at Nicole -- or at least in the direction he's pretty sure Nicole is in. "I'm not joking about the eighties movie montage. I will find something to help with for every single soul who wants in on this thing, whether you want to wash a floor or teach an art class, or bake brownies for bake sales. The Veil runs on stories -- and we're going to force this one down its throat. Once upon a time there was a little town under siege by creatures that eat pain and suffering but one day, some brave citizens said 'no more!'. Queue the Footloose soundtrack -- or any other of those fix-the-community movies. And heaven knows we can use every warm body we can find -- I am currently making an archaeological expedition back in time as illustrated by the layers of old wallpaper I am tearing off. I am down to about 1982 so far."

Joey pauses and gives Ravn a curious look, "It got turned into a watermelon? Like the fruit ...vegetable..whatever or jut look that way?" Looking to Nicole he murmurs, "What the fuck is melon anyways? They don't grow on trees and lay around in the dirt like a pumpkin. What the hell are they?"

Looking back to Ravn he murmurs, "I'd grab you..." But you're you seems to be implied. "Stick close." Looking around again he murmurs, "Yeah... these things happen. It's about gettin back and gettin food though." Ravn's starting to catch up to Joeyvision. The wallpaper gets curious interest. "Should see if there's anything else you find in there. People leave their shit laying around all the time. Great way to fucking trip on stuff." Whether he's talking about mental imprints or roller skates is unclear. Maybe both. Is there a difference?

It is certainly difficult to be shocked in this town anymore, at least since she has returned to it. Somehow, things do still manage to catch Nicole off guard from time to time and leave her quite shocked indeed. This is not one of those times. The fog is a bit weird, but she's quite a few times gone into a building she thought was one thing that became something else entirely. Ravn's description of the new Suds 'n' Duds though makes her wrinkle her nose. She even likes pink, but not that much pink.

Ravn's words about the Community Center carry to her. "I will totally help with it. I am a bit handy myself. Plus, I have some other skills. Like... cooking, sewing... what kind of work will it do once it's open? I can possibly help both before and after." Grinning, she says, "I'll bring the montage playlist!" She loves making playlists.

Joey comes in with his questions about melons and, as he often does, he makes Nicole stop and ponder his curiosity. Smiling crookedly, she first cheekily says, "melons are what you like to play with during happy fun times." Maybe he can't see her waggle her brows much, but surely he can see her give one of her breasts a quick little squeeze. "But, melons are a fruit. If it has seeds, it's a fruit. If it does not, it's a vegetable. Lots of fruits grow on the ground... but, I dunno, a pumpkin seems like a vegetable. Gourds... like, you know, squash, also seem like vegetables, but they have seeds, so fruit? Maybe they should be fregetables."

Back to Ravn's project, still walking hand in hand with Joey. Is Ravn wearing gloves? She'd offer her hand if he wanted, if he was comfortable, and would not be offended if not. "You should make a scrapbook of all the types of wallpaper... if it isn't too late. Kind of like a time capsule, small clips of it." Shrugging, she says, "I'm kinda weird. I like old stuff like that." After all, look at the trailer she lived in and renovated. "Ooh! Maybe there's a treasure hidden in the wall somewhere! Or like... a clue to some mystery. Knowing this town, probably a skeleton...."

"Redecorated to look like a watermelon," Ravn reiterates -- and stays pretty damn close because while he is indeed not keen on random touchy-feely due to his neuropathy, he's not an idiot and he has no desire to find himself wandering off alone into a dream that may or may not turn out to be taken straight out of an old Stephen King novel. He is wearing gloves -- he almost always is -- but the idea of touching others seems to simply not come naturally to the man.

He smiles at Nicole though, perhaps appreciating the offer. "What we actually end up doing depends a lot on what kind of help we get. Myself? I'm not all that handy, to be honest -- but I'm not afraid to get my dainty hands dirty. I can help people with study-related things. Help them write resumes, job applications, find out what they need to get into that school. I hope we get all kinds of people involved -- because while we want to reach out to the most vulnerable people in Gray Harbor, truth of the matter is that every single one of us with this shine need each other."

Beat. "You know, the front store room still smells like there should be several bodies buried under it."

Joey is at least a little relieved that the laundromat is NOT fruit. It is worth asking. He tells Ravn regarding bodies, "Well I didn't put em there. Did you ask em to move?" A longer pause before he asks, "Whose are they anyways?" Looking to Nicole and back "She's not lying. She rebuilt more than half the salon herself. It was fucking remarkable. There's 17 Instagram pages of documentation on it and it's all good...where some asshole didn't shoot out her front window that time."

"Fregetables?" He considers this and finally nods as the light shifts in the fog casting longer, taller shadows ahead than they should. "I'm down with fregetables." There's a faint amusement as he admits "I am mos def down for cash buried in walls."

Are the trees in the gloom shifting their weight to the other leg or just seem like it? All around the group now is the fog though they can see the concrete go on they soon stumble on a sign post for the highway that should not be neat them at all. In the distance a voice from some...guy, still distant, "Niiiiicky..."

Lowering her hand with a smile towards Ravn, she walks on, keeping him in her periphery at least as much as possible. "Well, I can help after it is finished too, probably. I am not a good writer or at studying or anything, but, I could... offer a hair and makeup spruce up to people who need it for job interviews and can't afford it... or like, food drives, soup kitchens if there is need and stuff." Nodding, she wholeheartedly agrees. "We do need each other." eShe keeps out of the talk about bodies, but beams a smile when Joey brags about her remodeling skills. "I had some help though, which I greatly appreciated." Leaning in, she gives Joey a peck to his cheek to show that appreciation.

First, they nearly walk into Ravn earlier. Now, a sign springs into their path (not really) where they weren't expecting it. Frowning, Nicole looks around. "Is the fog getting thicker?" For a moment, there is a worried look upon her face, but as soon as that voice, that name can be heard through the mist, her features pale dramatically and that expression turns to one of fear. She freezes, suddenly, and with the heavy moist air that hangs over them without a breeze, even her hair seems afraid to move, and she falls completely silent.

"We haven't found any bodies yet," Ravn points out. "It's an old butcher's shop -- and the place wasn't cleaned properly, that's why it smells. Got a couple of very talented folks working on a -- cleansing, Gray Harbor style. It does seem to be helping. Heaven knows somebody who can help people with a haircut to look presentable will make it easier to get them connected to the shops that are offering to try to give people some things to put on their C. V.'s. We definitely need to look into some kind of soup kitchen or food drive too -- I don't think Gray Harbor is as badly hit as some places when it comes to actually starving people, but there are some of those boardwalk dwellers who are very, very down on their luck."

Might be he was going to say more -- Ravn gets surprisingly verbose on this subject at times -- but then, indeed, there is a sign and someone calling out a name. He too stops and looks about, listening. "Do we know a Nicky?"

Joey leans over. The boxer is a sucker for the tall blonde's approval and gratitude alike. Call him a a romantic but he is. "I only extort the very best contractors for you, babe." Looking back to Ravn he asks "Get a priest to do an exorcism. or call the Exorcist. She's this lady at- ...oh you met her. Talk to her." The there's that voice. He doesn't know the voice but he knows Nicole's hand tightening on his. His tone turns, "No." he says pointedly remember that conversation with her the one time she had to ask him 'never call em that', "No, Ravn, we don't."

Very quietly, Nicole says to Ravn, "he means me." No, she does not go by Nicki and if anyone she knows calls her that, she is polite, but corrects them. "Please don't call me that," she says as well, even though Ravn never has. And Joey, even if he doesn't know the voice, knows her aversion to the name, and when he tells their friend that no, they do not know anyone by that name, she tilts her head to his shoulder affectionately, relaxing, just slightly. Surely that voice was someone she doesn't know, that only sounded familiar, that was asking for some other Nicky. It's foggy. Sound carries and the mist warps it, could be someone super far away even, or, just a few feet.

But then there it is again. She swallows, though her mouth has gone dry now. She reaches across herself, letting her other hand grasp Joey's forearm, more firmly grounding herself in his presence. "N-no," she stammers softly. "We don't. Go away..." She closes her eyes. "Go away," she repeats, as if its her own thoughts she is speaking to. And if this is a Dream, well, maybe she is.

It really doesn't take a doctorate in philosophy to add up that tone of voice plus nickname we do not like plus Joey sounding like he wants to punch somebody. Ravn has such a doctorate, though -- maybe that's why the additions don't take him very long. He tenses slightly as well and looks about, trying to penetrate the impenetrable fog while frowning. "I used to know a woman who talked to me like that," he says quietly. "Last I saw her, she ended up dead for the second time after trying to murder a woman for the crime of looking at me. Is this is the kind of deal we're looking at here?"

Joey's hand tightens around Nicole's looking uncertain and unamused. Looking back to Ravn he says with a murmur, "Yeah we might be looking exactly at something like that." There's a quiet consideration and he looks back to the Dane, "How'd that pan out for you? She take no means no?" Joey calls out with that gravely tone, "She said she ain't interested, pal. Just feel free to step off now." Looking back to Nicole he's patient and both eyebrows go up and he asks, "Is that who I fucking think it is?"

"Something like that...." Nicole whispers, still clinging to Joey's arm, her eyes darting around, trying to look through the fog. As soon as her gaze sets upon the rope, she stares, watching the frayed edge move away from Ravn's step.

"But you are," she replies, hiding the side of her face against Joey's arm. A flood of memories starts to overtake her thoughts, memories she has worked hard to leave behind, and suddenly, it is like she feels all the pain again, physical, emotional, and mental. Lifting her hand from Joey's forearm, she reaches up to touch her cheek, as if she can still feel the hot burn of a bruise darkening there. Her eyes lift then to look into Joey's and she gives a scared sort of small nod a couple times.

She takes a breath and tries to find her courage, though her voice is still shaking. "You are, and you were. You always were. Go away. Go back to the hell you fucking came from." Now the fear is starting to shift into anger and those last few words are practically spit out.

"It didn't turn out very well for Benedikte," Ravn says, and this time he doesn't lower his voice at all. "Her jealous rage ended with her decorating most of Gina Castro's diner with her insides."

Subtle, Ravn. Just leave out the part where it was Gina, August, and Itzhak doing the redecorating-with-Danish-ghost-as-the-new-paint-job. Definitely leave out the part where all you were capable of doing was stand there.

He reaches into a pocket. A pacifist at heart, Ravn does in fact own a firearm now, courtesy of Seth Monaghan -- but he certainly doesn't carry it around with him. He's a folklore expert, not a mob enforcer, and what he does carry is a small silver crucifix and -- yes, those are a couple of small packets of salt stolen from the Black Bear Diner. Silver and salt to repel unclean spirits; tested and tried through hundreds of years. Might not work -- nothing is ever guaranteed with the Veil's creations and the ghost of his own fiancee certainly didn't care, but always, always worth a try.

And if the voice belongs to someone alive -- eh, a crucifix shoved up one nostril tends to be a little distracting, too.

Joey freezes in place. The hackles are up. Normally he might just hit a motherfucker with another motherfucker and call it a day, but as he is bereft of motherfuckers to hit this motherfucker with...and that he's floating out of reach? This is proble-fucking-matic.

The boxer growls, "Why don't you stop being Mary Poppins and either fuck off or come over here and keep talking, guy. She left your ass." There's a pause and it occurs to Joey there were in fact details on this left out. He blinks and glances to Nicole murmuring quietly, "The fuck's he talking about?"

Every muscle in Nicole's body tenses at 'you put me there' and she takes a slow breath. The pallor that has crossed her features now looks a little sickly like she might be fighting off a wave of nausea as well, and that's before she sees the silhouette hanging in the fog. Dark eyes slowly shift down from the form held aloft by the rope down to the ground just before her; something solid, something perhaps more real. "Don't call me that... I'm not your sweetheart." She isn't the strong, bold, blonde she usually is in this moment, no, this spirit seems to have stolen her confidence for the moment and the words are whispered. If he weren't a ghost, he probably wouldn't even be able to hear them, though the others are close enough to be able to. "You gave me..." She stops. He did give her a lot, before... before it all changed. The tension in her jaw as she closes her eyes shows how much she is still fighting emotions internally, trying not to cry. "The beginning of a fairytale with the unhappiest of endings."

Opening her eyes when Joey speaks, they look pained and worried for entirely different reasons. "I... remember when I said... he was... that it might have been my fault that he died?"

"No." It's just one word but it cuts through the fog like red-hot steel through butter. For once in his life, Ravn will not be challenged, will not be swayed, will not be debated. "My fiancee drank herself stupid, got in a fast car and hit a road tree. She haunted me for three years, blaming me for her death. She and no one else got in that car. She put her foot on the pedal, she killed herself. Whoever this guy is, and whatever made him put a noose around his neck, he killed himself. Not you."

He takes a step forward, unflinching. The man's got demons of his own, no argument about it. This is the hill he will die on; no one gets to say 'you made me' about suicide.

Joey is really at the end of his patience and that... is a feat to get to. It may be why he' letting Ravn do all the damn talking. He listens to Nicole more than happy to play human shield right now; the glimmer taking some time but responding all the same to just brace for impact of stupid. Her words get his eyes to open a bit wider and he mumbles, "Yeah that one big 'mighta', Nicole..."

Nicole opens her mouth to defend herself to Joey, but doesn't know what to say at first, so her mouth moves into the beginning shapes of words as they come to her mind, but nothing seems adequate so it moves to the next, making her look more like a fish gasping for air than anything. Until with glassy eyes, she takes a breath and says, "I didn't know for sure, so -might- was the truth! I didn't put the noose around his neck!" Her voice is rising in volume now, no longer a whisper. She's upset; scared, and starting to get angry. She has let go of Joey's hand, letting her own fall to her side. The other lifts and points towards the rope-end/hanging asshole. "I didn't bash his head in, stab him, shoot him. I wasn't there! I wasn't even there!" At least, not that she remembers.

Her voice goes soft again as she turns to Ravn. "I... No, I think it's true... partly. I don't know..." Her hands rise up to rub at her face and she paces a step or two away, not at all far. "I pushed... I pushed..." she says with eyes squeezed shut as she tries to remember everything, but then she opens them and turns back to her ex. "I FOUGHT BACK!" she screams, her hands, her body starting to tremble. "I fought back so that YOU wouldn't murder ME!" She's done nothing yet, but Joey and Ravn can likely see an energy around her vibrating slightly as if it too trembles.

"As I should have," Ravn says, tone still cold, blue steel. "Joey, don't let him do this. Don't let him make you question who's guilty. Weasel words. Twisting the narrative."

Joey looks to Ravn and holds up one hand, the other still down and acting as a shield. "I already picked sides here. We see a guy with a toaster for a head show up next, no questions, deal?" But its that glimmer that starts to physically brighten and push the fog back a bit that Joey's snapped back to noticing.

There's so much to unpack here. Taking a deep breath Joey finds the words (without looking up a few in Alexanders little worn book he threw at Joey's head), "Baby, I believe you, and if you took a fucking hatchet to his head I'd believe you had good reason for it. This is not a deal breaker for me. Deep breath. What happened cause that guy...is kinda growin on my shitlist, but if any of that is true we need to know how to make him go back into the dirt."

Nicole is fixated on Mitch fucking Swanson, or at least his ethereal form and misses a lot of what is going on around her now. Her breathing has quickened, as if she had been running and just paused to catch her breath, but it is the effort of controlling herself that makes it so. She does finally realize Joey is addressing her and listens, though she doesn't take her eyes off her ex. She does, however, take that deep breath he suggests. "He started.. I don't even know why, what happened. He started arguing more, then started arguing with his fists..." Her voice has lowered again, but it trembles like the rest of her. "He hit me so hard, I... blacked out. I don't even remember what happened. I just.. I wanted him to stop." She is now glaring at the ghost. "I wanted him to go away, to feel the pain he was causing me....."

"You best believe I let them think that! I wasn't about to go to prison because you were a dumb fuck abusive ASSHOLE! I was defending myself! I pushed the pain at you! I pushed the anguish! I WANTED YOU TO SUFFER for ruining it all, for trying to ruin me!!!" Oh shit... The power is building.

However, the rope lashes and she gasps, jumping back and lifting her arms defensively. That act though, arms rising and crossing, pushed some of that building energy towards the rope, towards the ghost (and hopefully not hitting anyone else).

Ravn came into what little power he has very young; he never went through the Firestarter experience, figuratively speaking. He has used his power aggressively a couple of times, particularly as a child and as a teenager -- there was that incident with the handsy bloke who got forked in the fork by a flying (you guessed it) fork -- but he has never wanted or been able to build up power like that which emanates off Nicole now. He has never been a violent man. It never occurred to him to strike his fiancee while she was alive, regardless of how unreasonable he felt that she was acting, regardless of what accusations she flung at him.

And yet he understands exactly how Nicole feels.

The ghost is not interested in him; he's just in its way. He tears open one of the salt packets and sprays the salt at it nonetheless, the silver crucifix wrapped around his knuckles. Salt and silver. Substances that purify and ward off evil. The Veil's creation, the ghost is not obliged to play by the rules -- but the Veil's creations very often do and it's bloody well worth a shot.

Joey looks down at his arm and at Nicole and there's... dread? Remorse? It's not enough to make him regret his life choices outright but it's enough to really smack him upside the nuts with an emotional hammer. His hand squeezes hers and he looks to her, apologetic, "I'm sorry. What do you need me to do to fix this?" Words really he thought he'd only be saying to Felix and in a totally different context. There's nothing he can feasibly thing of other than "It's using our ability isn't it? Is ice a thing? What the shit?" Looking up at 'Mitch' he glares, "DO NOT make me tell my ma on you." Look an angry Kelly is one thing but angry Kelly Ghostie is another. Maybe that'll do somehting.

Nicole didn't mean to lash out. It was an accident. Much like Mitch's actual death was an accident. When that happened, she didn't even know what she was capable of, especially away from Gray Harbor. Accidents are what happened when she first returned to Gray Harbor, what led to her 'awakening' that she had The Shine. No one she has spoken to has been able to fully explain why she was able to use powers in Arizona. All of this is why she once told Joey she 'might have' made Mitch kill himself.

She didn't MEAN to. But clearly, she had meant to make him hurt, or at least hoped he would? She wished it. Oh did she wish it. And, well, it worked.

She barely registers Ravn's pulling out the salt. She doesn't have time to wonder why. They didn't cover all this stuff in Spirit School (disclaimer: She did not attend Spirit School, if there is one). Maybe she'd ask him about it later. She does see the holes open up and close right after though, even if it doesn't distract her.

"I wasn't even trying," Nicole hisses out with full venom towards Mitch. "I wasn't TRYING to kill you, but I did. Is that what you want? I killed you. I made you do it. Like you were a marionette and I was pulling the strings, like you said. I wanted you to feel my pain. See what it drove you to? See what you were making me feel? Perhaps I was the puppeteer, but none of it would have happened if. You. Didn't. Hit. Me. Asshole." Each word is said with determination and anger, even hate. The emotions swirling around her, palpable. "You want me to actually try? You want me to try harder? You want me to send you back to hell to rot? Or are we done here?"

Thing is, she doesn't even know if what she CAN do would help, but man, she is willing to try.

But Joey.. Joey takes her hand and squeezes it, bringing her eyes back to him. Her expression softens as soon as her gaze falls on his green eyes. "I don't know..." she admits. "For once, it's my mess." The corner of her lip ever so briefly quirks as if she wants to smile. "I love you," she whispers, leaning to touch her forehead to his, taking just a moment for that centering, that balance, before she turns back to deal with Mitch.

The salt has an effect. The part of Ravn's mind that is all folklorist and neat archives for cobwebby old tales makes a note of this. Salt is good. We do not have a truckload of salt standing by, regrettably -- but this means that at least for now, the Veil has decided to play by at least some of the rules. Salt, silver, cold steel.

Cold steel. No one ever came out and said outright to Ravn, 'so, the gym coach, you know he's like, the mob muscle in this town, right?' Ravn is an observant man, though, skilled at cold reading and paying attention. Things Joey himself has said offhandedly at times, nevermind the fact that Seth Monaghan seems unaware that Ravn supposedly doesn't know much about the underworld (or maybe Seth just has decided that Ravn can in fact keep a secret and hence there is no reason to insult his intelligence by playing the whole 'nothing to see here' game at him). If anyone here carries a sharp knife... "Coach, do you have a knife on you? A steel knife, not one of those modern alloys," he murmurs.

The more alert part of his mind spots something else, something more immediate. "The rope," he exclaims. "It's playing him like a meat puppet. We're fighting Pinocchio here -- burn the damn rope!"

Joey is staring at this whole situation trying to figure out what his very practical mind can make sense of just what needs to be done. This one is weird and there's a lot of emotional bandwidth interference coming off of Nicole's puddle of fury. The coach looks to Nicole and says with a slight defeat, "Our mess."

Looking up Joey focuses his attention on the folklorist and considers this and... Yeah. He pulls out his pocket his pocket knife and tosses it to Ravn. The tail of that rope whips out lashing at Nicole again. Leaning back he lifts a hand to protect his eyes; frozen rain stinging the palm of his hand. Still somehow he lunges at it and grabs it.

Were it just a rope that would be one thing, but it seems strong enough to drag the boxer a few inches, gravel grinding under the soles of his shies, and forcing him to take a thudding step to brace and hold it. "Nicole, Focus! Listen to our nerd!" Which is really a position of high esteem for knower-of-important-things!

Nicole looks a bit scary, really, a little... crazy... perhaps (don't call her that), with her emotions running rampant, her anger explosive. Joey is right, she isn't focused. Little things here and there grab her attention, but she's kind of all over the place. One moment intent on getting rid of Mitch, the next calmer and trying to talk to Joey or Ravn. "Our mess," she agrees with Joey. But Ravn's words do catch her ear and she tilts her head in an almost creepy way, in that, the grin that also appears is a bit sinister. Not to mention those small slashes from the frost rain stinging her skin, a couple drawing deep enough to make droplets of blood appear, that she didn't even notice had hurt her.

"A puppet," she says, though she is looking at Mitch. "You called me a puppet master, and still, you are not under your own control. Still, you dance on the string that the Veil commands." She assumes. "You, who turned to violence against the woman you said you loved, weren't a real man, like Pinocchio wasn't a real boy... and now..." She laughs deep and raw, though somehow the 'amusement' makes tears slip out of her eyes. "Now you aren't even a real ghost."

Taking Ravn's advice about fire and Joey's urging her to focus, Nicole takes a slow and deep breath, her chin lifting as her lungs fill. Her right hand rises up with the inhale, fingers playing but curling as a ball of fire seems to begin to form within her palm. The more deeply she breaths in, the brighter that ball of fire grows. She is no longer trembling, putting all that fury into the pyrokinetic energy, until she opens her mouth wide to scream and pushes that fire towards the rope.

Ravn watches that ball of fire fly towards Mitch and the rope, and there are just two thoughts competing for the driver's seat in his mind: Please please work and Fuck yeah, girl!

Joey holds on for deal life - hers. And waits for it to be over. Yeah, watching him play this one down will be interesting if that even happens. And that's when the other shoe drops. No really. That sneaker falls and the boxer catches his breath, realizes he's still holding the rope and then discards it with a bit of repulsion into the street.

There's silence. Ravn knows what to do.

He looks up to Nicole, eyebrows in his hairline murmuring, "So... that's him huh?" Looking back at the mess in the street and Ravn doing what he needs to do to keep it gone he mutters, "Well. Lucky for me you have shit taste in guys. You, um, you alright there, Sparky?"

Maybe some day the Kellys are going to contemplate telling the grandchildren they may some day have about that one time they were stuck in the dog watching some whackjob Dane empty three packets of salt over an empty sneaker and then nail it to the ground with grampa's knife before dropping that little silver crucifix on it.

It probably makes a lot more sense to people who share the conviction that ghosts can be forced back to ground and rendered harmless if one deals with their remains; purification by salt, silver, and steel.

Just, uh, in this case the ghost's remains is a shoe.

Okay, so a folklorist's job isn't always dignified. Feel free to fetch a priest instead.

She really is the Firestarter. Who knew?

Nicole is far too focused on pushing all that energy at Mitch to notice that she was able to do more than just singe the rope a little. It isn't until the fire on the rope travels up and explodes that she closes her mouth and lowers her hand. She stands, a bit dumbfounded, as the stillness (and rope fragments) begins to settle around them. Until that one Nike sneaker comes falling with a sudden THWAP that makes Nicole jump about a foot high. Gasping at that surprise, she looks with wide eyes towards Joey then Ravn. They are right there. Neither of them seem hurt. They are okay.

Then she exhales.

She nods, blinking rapidly at Joey as he stands there. She can't speak just yet, just kind of numbly walks towards him, sliding her arms along his sides and tucking her head down onto his shoulder. She holds onto the ex boxer/coach/love of her life, and whispers, "yeah... I'll be fine."

She watches Ravn with a bit of quiet curiosity. She isn't quite sure what all that is, but clearly, they have to have a conversation sometime. And maybe, maybe he'll just have to be around to tell those grandkids himself.

Ravn looks away for a few moments. Maybe he feels a little silly, ritually stabbing -- a shoe. Maybe he wants to give the Kellys (yes, yes, we know, Nicole isn't technically a Kelly yet -- look, Ma Kelly considers her one, it's settled) some semblance of privacy for that moment of collecting themselves. Maybe he is a little dazed by the sheer power that Nicole unleashed; even for Gray Harbor, that was a wild ride.

When he does turn back he smiles a little at seeing the two people cling to one another. It's a reassuring sight; even here, love conquers.

"I could really use some of that breakfast now," the Dane murmurs, because he too has a lot of unpleasant memories about dead exes who refused to stay dead, and he's possibly a little more shook up than he wants to advertise, too. "Should we give it another shot, trying to find our way back?"

And leave the ghostly shoe here goes unsaid.

Joey slowly hugs Nicole giving her a safe place to lose her shit, or find it, or whatever. For all the terrible things he does sometimes there's these moments, forehead to hers, just listening. There's a faint flicker of a nervous, but amused smile, "Well you always been fine." Deep breath. His focus looks Ravn and the shoe and holds out his hand for the knife (Look it's a good knife, and no there's no blood on it or rust, but there is a little schmutz from adhesive from cutting box tape open). "Ravn's right. we stand here more ghosts from the past might start showing up and we could be here *all. day. And I don't like dealing with bad news twice. Repeating myself is just balls so... let's get us some" He looks to Nicole and specifies, "actual pancakes." He looks and where they were going down the road before he says "Let's cut between the buildings across the parking lot."

Sometimes a shoe is just a shoe. Sometimes, it is what is left when some asshole ghostserpentinesnakeishthingonarope decides to pay a visit in the fog that infests Gray Harbor. Perhaps that stabbing of the shoe will be the ritual needed to keep remnants of that asshole away for good.

One can hope.

Nicole stays wrapped up in Joey's arms just a bit longer, enjoying the closeness, the calm after the chaos. She nods though, to both Ravn and Joey's suggestions for breakfast. "Yeah, I don't wanna be a ghostbuster anymore today." But when Joey specifies 'actual pancakes' she looks up at him with a smile. "Maybe the other kind of pancakes later though?" I mean... how could she not suggest that?

They start walking, cutting through the buildings, Ravn with them, when she whispers up towards Joey, "love you, Joey Kelly. Thank you for being by my side."

Ravn slips the knife back to Joey and falls a few steps behind, perhaps to give the Kellys a little privacy. If not for the fog and the fact that the three of them may in fact still be trapped in the dreamscape of Gray Harbor, he'd probably have done a slow fade about -- twenty seconds ago. Discretion is the better part of valour, but wandering off alone into this fog full of vengeful ghosts from the past is just plain stupid. Good manners will simply have to wait.

Instead, he keeps his focus on their surroundings as they walk. Ravn is no Rekani Nazario or Itzhak Rosencrantz but he does have at least some of that spatial awareness that movers tend to possess. He stays alert, listening with more senses than six, just in case some other apparition from the past decides to pay an untimely visit.

The Veil has proved to the Dane several times that it is perfectly capable of plucking a memory from someone's mind and giving it both flesh and superhuman powers if it wants to. There are other ghosts of the past than the pretty obviously an abusive asshole that just came for Nicole. And some of those other ghosts are also pretty obviously abusive assholes, and between the three people present there's definitely a theme. It's hard not to not remember Benedikte attacking Gina Castro at the Diner, or the marks and bruises on Ma Kelly's neck. Definitely a theme.

Better to just stay quiet and alert for a bit.

Joey holds into Nicole trying to just get emotions and shit under control which means he goes back to trying to look a bit ore like a bolder than a man for a moment and holds into Nicole tightly. "No quarter for assholes." As she's easily as tall as he is he smooches her temple and takes a moment, then the knife from Raven with one hand and slides it back into his back pocket. Looking over the Dane too he nods with a snerk of faint amusement, "Yeah. Pancakes later." Not pancakes. Still excellent. "C'mon, let's not hang out in the middle of the damn street all day.