2021-03-29 - Ghosts Are(n't) Real

Kip has been researching less into the Veil and more into the Ghosts of Gray Harbor lately. She's got a suspicion that there might be some kind of connection with the energy the Veil gives off and these manifestations. She's likely texted Rekani to meet her here so they can get lunch or something when she's done. What is Kip doing exactly? Easy - trying to find items that give off those much-wanted EMF readings. EMF meant possibly haunted, which meant it was research material! She's wearing a pair of dark jeans with a gray tank top - sure it's probably a little too cool for tank tops but she hasn't fully re acclimated from her Russian roots. This might as well be summer.

The pawn shop is not Ravn Abildgaard's usual haunt. The man may have spent the winter in the trailer park but doing so was a choice -- nothing about him as he walks in says 'I need money'. The tall copper blond is not extravagantly dressed -- but the all-black ensemble of jeans, boots, and turtleneck does look well fitted, and the black leather jacket that goes with it does not look particularly cheap. He may not look like a million bucks -- but he probably didn't come here to pawn that jacket either. Maybe he came here to find something to wear that is not monochromatic, who knows?

He'd be a delight in that animal print coat over there on the rack, that's for sure. Might even get a butt full of buckshot from some over-eager hunter.

But that's the thing about Gray Harbor; people here often seem eccentric. As does indeed Ravn as he walks in and holds the door a little too long before saying, in his European accent, "Well, I don't know about that, Mrs Jackson, but of course I'll help you look." Gray Harbor, you do you.

Heard long before he's seen, the windows of the shop likely rattle as the growl of a mean beast of an engine stalks the roads in the mist, warning all of the blue-lit, blacked out BMW that slides into a spot in front of the pawn shop. Chassis rocking, the door opens to emit one large Nazario, though the cloud more curls into the car than out, a billowing plume and curl of traded vapors. Rekani breathes out and swings his door shut, shoving hands in the pocket of a green parka as he moves towards the door, pausing with an odd look at Ravn. Some things even Nazario's found weird. He slips in through the held door with a snort and looks around, spotting Kip.

"Hey, mami." he calls, strolling toward her, eyes doing that pawn shop browse, cast downward at the racks and cases he passes.

Kip couldn't help but grin a little when she hears Rekani's ride. Though she does peek around the corner when she hears someone else entering the shop. The voice sounded vaguely familiar but...who was Ravn talking to? She reached up on her tip toes as if that would help the short stack see anything else. But nothing. So instead, she gives up and turns to focus on Rekani as he approached. "Zaichik!" Is the enthusiastic response when he gets closer. Reaching up on her tip toes a second time so she can kiss his cheek.

"Glad you could make it. I'm nearly done with examining things. Nothing yet." She sounds ever so slightly disappointed by this.

Ravn raises one gloved hand as if to say something when Rekani just pushes past -- and then the penny drops. He looks back at, well, nothing and then a small, wry smile spreads on his face only to fade into some kind of patient expression that clearly says this happens to me a lot. "Yes, Mrs Jackson. If you go and see by the knick-knacks and the doilies, I'll go look over by the guitars."

He wanders off, incidentally towards the other two -- and once his back turns upon whatever that was all about, the Dane shakes his head lightly and mutters a few choice words in his native language. "Sorry about that," he murmurs in Rekani's direction -- he did block the door, after all (or thought he did). "That, uh, happens."

Rekani has to throw a look and a raised brow back at Ravn as he seems to continue his weird mental break, but just shakes his head and seems to let it pass. The rotund Latino affects that typical big man/small woman loom, casually entering Kip's space, dipping his head to accept the peck, one arm briefly wrapping around her midsection, then trailing on her waist as he continues his quiet perusal of the merchandise. The only answer to her words was a quiet tone of a noise in his throat, confirmation, acceptance. His eyes linger on jewelry, then look to Kip, then back. There's contemplation, but is mostly flies under the usual blase demeanor the DJ coasts with. He looks up again as Ravn finally addresses him.

"Hey, man, no judging." Maybe a little, though. Less than the other Nazario, to be fair.

Ignacio comes sauntering in with his telltale limp that gives Senor Rogers, en Espanol, his unique profile from a distance. He strikes a surprisingly unimposing figure to be certain. Still it's summer, it's foggy and in spite of that he's in a decent mood though he steps in and frowns. "This... is not the post office." Looking back out the door at the blanket of fog he offers a dry "Thanks." Stepping in he warms his uneven smile to the group, "Hola. Que onda." he greets. "How the hell we doin today?" The smile brightens a bit seeing Rekani because who wouldn't? He walks over to his business partner and looks to see what's up with he, Kip, and the DJ.

Kip chuckles softly as she enjoys the bit of attention and affection. The hand with her EMF meter moves...and goes off. Kip quickly snaps her gaze down to the meter and then to the spot her meter was pointed at as it dies down. Like something passing by it. What? Kip looks suspicious and outstretches her arm to try and get another ping. "Who is this person you are talking to?" Kip asked Ravn, taking a slight step forward, still trying to catch the signal again.

Looking over to Ignacio, she offers a smile of greeting. "I am doing well. Trying to find ghosts. And haunted things." Though her attention shifts back to the meter with that slightly puzzled look.

Ravn glances in the direction of the knick-knacks. "Mrs Jackson. She's looking for her son -- I've met her a few times. I didn't realise until now that she's... not there." He reaches up and runs a gloved hand through his copper hair, a gesture that results mostly in hair falling down in his eyes -- it's not a look that helps the sheepish expression any. "This, uh, happens. To me. Hello, Ignacio -- I don't suppose any of you have seen a dark haired kid, aged eighteen, wears a Bon Jovi: Livin' On A Prayer shirt?"

He pauses and glances back there a second time. "On second thought, I really should have pieced it together from that shirt. Oh well. She's harmless."

"Hola, amigo!" Rekani responds reflexively, hearing his native tongue and grinning, glancing to Ignacio, his arm finally falling as Kip moves out of reach. He eventually tears his eyes off the rings (They had some dope man rings, ok? Totally innocent.) to look up at all the weird talk, looking confused. "Yo, Ya'll got a mushroom hookup or somethin'?" Because that's obviously the answer, regardless of his girlfriend's obsessions. He looks further confused about another thing though.

"Bon Jovi shirt? Dude, sure, lemme tell you about the fifteen I saw drivin past the college." An exaggeration, considering he probably couldn't see a damn thing driving past anywhere.

Kip 😂

Ignacio grins to Rekani and UNABLE to contain himself being a fellow musical soul breaks out into a surprisingly good rendition and clearly expects the DJ to join him...or not "Sorry Ms. Jackson, I am for reeeeeeeal..." yeah it's a musical day in his neighbourhood. He pauses and looks to Kip and then to Ravn clearing his throat, "Sorry... ish... uhhh..." He's trying not to grin and maintain a sober expression...and is failing under his own amusement. "Noooot recently. Is he Halfway there?" The grin gets a lil wider .

Now it's time to turn her attention on to Ravn. "Wait a moment. You see people who aren't there?" Which, to anyone else sounds like you're having some mental issues. But for Kip? Of course her first thought is ghosts. "Where is this Mrs. Jackson now? Still in the store?" Oh yeah, she's in full work mode. "There are no drugs. Or maybe there are." She muses to Rekani. "But there definitely might be a ghost." She waits expectantly for Ravn's answer on where this Jackson person is before she would take the few steps necessary to head in that direction. The Bon Jovi references are beyond her.

Ravn was about to quip something about take my hand, I swear when Kip's question knocked his mind off the lyrics track. Instead he nods towards the jewellery section which is definitely not currently occupied by any teenager's mother. "She's over there," he replies and quirks an eyebrow. "She's perfectly harmless. Just wants to find her son and gets confused easy. I've met her a few times before, just never realised that she was -- you know. Didn't realise that she might have been looking for a while. Please don't upset her."

That sort of answers the questions about seeing ghosts too. Or maybe it answers a question about substance abuse. The jury's still out on that one.

The Bon Jovi crack had actually been a huge faux pas, Rekani having just thought 'old people music' and assuming Ravn had meant a Pink Floyd - Dark Side of the Moon shirt, which was literally ever-present with college co-eds wanting to be retro. Of course, Rekani chimes in on Ignacio, giving a perfectly high pitched, "Oooo! I am for reeeeal~" and throwing in a little two-step bob, but leaves at that with a chuckle at the true Bon Jovi cracks. He holds up surrendering palms to Kip, knowing better than to tell her elseways, which precludes more chemical or mental health wisecracks at Ravn's expense.

Ignacio stops dancing in place with Rekani for a moment . he blinks and both eyebrows his his hairline. "Woh, missing kid like legit? Uhhhh... we casting a net to catch him?" He pauses realizing that's a colloqualism and says "Using all and other tools to do that? She know where she saw him last and curiously how old is this kid?" Looking to Rekani, other local duder, he says with that slightly toned down accent than Itzhak carries, "I'm thinking toys, music, action figures?"

Rekani is a smart man!

Kip makes a thoughtful noise. "Oh I doubt there are any worries about that. I definitely cannot see dead people. Let alone speak with them." She takes a few steps towards the direction of the area Ravn had pointed out. The EMF meter starts pinging again and she may or may not have made an excited, fangirlish sort of noise that she tried to suppress. This. Was. AWESOME. Even if she had no way to see or communicate? It possibly meant a big step towards confirming that ghosts do exist thank you very much. Even if they aren't exactly what people imagine them to be. She shifted to pull out her phone and try to record the area for later examination.

"I'm not sure there is a kid," Ravn murmurs and glances back towards the jewellery. "Or if there is, and she's been looking for him since 1984, he's probably not a kid anymore. She's just a little confused."

He watches Kip's antics with a slightly confused, slightly worried expression. The idea that somebody might try this is not entirely foreign; he's not only read The Canterville Ghost, it was bloody well suggested to him by some by then quite deceased great-granduncle. If anything he's half expecting Mrs Jackson the not quite there mother of a teenager to come try to look over Kip's shoulder too.

Which, of course, she does. Because what are soccer moms if not curious? On the up side, Kip won't have much trouble telling where she is -- just follow Ravn's gaze as he tries to look like he doesn't feel like a complete idiot right now. 'I see dead people' is a line that belongs in a movie -- one that he's not in, thank you very much.

THC addled or not, a man that wants to keep his ghost hunting girlfriend happy doesn't join in on making fun. Palms still raised and attempting to keep the expressions out of Kip's sightline, Rekani tosses Ignacio a look, a wide-eyed shake of the head, a tip of his chin toward the Russian/American super spy/ghost hunter, and an intensely serious face. Because, obviously, he was just humoring her. Dreams, psychic powers, doorways to the other side? Those things are verifiable and totally legit. Ghosts? Man, that's just a fairy tale.

Ignacio pauses and gives this some consideration, "well is the kid a ghost? Let's get a name. We got phones. we can loot it up and give her directions." Ignacio deSantos, bringing families together! Looking bac to Rekani there's a whole conversation en eyebrow Espanol happening as his eyes roll and head wobbles with a half shrug, I'll humor them. It's good advice wither way.

"I -- guess?" Ravn turns to Kip, or rather, to something right next to Kip, something that is in fact looking over Kip's shoulder. He's come to the realisation soon enough that yes, it happened again, and yes, he's still the only person who sees anything, and yes, it still is a very awkward situation. At least it's Gray Harbor where half the town has had weird experiences and while people here might decide he's kind of nuts they're probably not going to care very much about it at all. "Mrs Jackson, what is your son called? What's your home address?"

The empty air next to Kip does of course not answer. No one sane would expect it to answer.

It doesn't really help the situation any that the Dane proceeds to argue softly with it. "Yes, Mrs Jackson. Mr de Santos here is going to try to look up your son's name. Yes, on the -- in the telephone directory. Yes, like the yellow pages, sort of. Except on a -- yes, it's amazing what they can do with technology these days, isn't it? Who -- oh, right. No, no, I don't think they're spying on you with the -- no, Ms Zakharovna is not a Russian spy, Mrs Jackson. I'm not either -- we talked about this, remember?"

This may take a while.

When it comes to the Weird, Capital W, and the intellectual, which Kip was definitely attempting to take that approach, very often Rekani was just a spectator. Who could blame the kid who thought of moving things with his mind as an everyday occurrence, being born with it, pulling apple juice boxes to him when his parents hid them on a shelf. It was normal, uninteresting, and... Were those actual records on the shelves over there? Because that's where Rekani looks, trying to act interested in Kip's thing when she looks, but absolutely standing on tip toes and looking downwards, hand lifting covertly to start to walk along the top of the stack and browse.

Ignacio reaches behind himself and pulls out a small... thing yellow pages? Well it's his notebook jammed into his messenger bag but the illusion sells the lie to help comprehension to get to the truth without, like, hurting anyone... or the Spaniard HAS a copy of the yellow pages for some unknown reason. He holds it up and waits patiently. He looks to Rekani and quietly bebops finishing the song pausing and focusing down on the real trouble here while asking life's really important questions, "So after the fog we doing a clam bake on the beach. Music, bonfire and whatnot? I'm feeling the itch for socializing again."

"Shouldn't be too difficult to convince Rosencrantz to play for a beach bonfire night -- or the EMT, Devlin. Why do I not know that man's last name? Anyhow, he plays the guitar." Ravn glances back at Ignacio.

He listens for a while. Apparently the late Mrs Jackson has a lot to say and from the look on the Dane's face he knows better than to try to interrupt. Maybe he's heard it all before. When she does at last appear to have fallen quiet he looks at the others and says, "Danny Jackson, of the -- class of 85? Eighty-five, yes. Hickory Lane. The house with the white fence, right."

Every third house in Gray Harbor's suburbs has a white picket fence, of course.

The phone's camera, of course, doesn't pick up anything. The EMF goes off a few more times though before she finally turns it off and tucks it away. "I am most definitely not a Russian spy. And I am amazed you said my name mostly right." She blinks a bit to Ravn. She takes a couple pictures of empty space because, well, you never know. Then she draws in a breath to try and rein herself back in and find her way back closer towards Rekani. "A bonfire sounds like it could be fun. I haven't ever been to one I don't think." She looks up towards Rek. "Seeing anything neat you like here?"

"Hells yeah, I'm down. I can bring my uh..." Rekani makes a glance at Kip, as if wondering which would be better, since she'd spent enough time in his room to remember, "...acoustic. Or my keyboard?" He thinks, "Or just roll my ride out there and bump some shit." Honestly, with his variable suspension, it probably could just be taken out onto the beach. Miami AF. He shrugs, smiling all guilty when Kip asks about what he was looking at, but does finally pull the stack out by half to show off one of the records, "I dunno, but using something like these to freemix or sample would slap." Would what? Kids and their slang these days. Another two records tipped forward, another look like whatever he was showing might be a possibility. He pulls the record and flips it over, looking at the label and the pricetag.

Ignacio knows pretty much nada mucho about ghosts but he respects that a mom is concerned about her kid and distress is distress and lets the people that can help do so if they are able. That's just being decent. When Ravn gives him something to work with he starts to thumb the digits and info into his phone murmuring to Kip, "We got a great beach for it when the water behaves." Being under 30? yeah that all makes total sense to him. "Dope. We'll have to hook it up and put something together. Figure between you and I we can promote the shiiiit out of it. Uhhhh yeah Friendzone's got some hits. Dunno if it's the same Danny tho. What's she need?"

"I think she's just worried her fourteen year old is not going to be home for dinner in time," Ravn says and looks towards the spot where Kip's toys are still insisting something is a little off. "I know we're in Gray Harbor but -- I actually don't think anything bad happened. This is going to sound..."

He straightens up. Might as well just leap to it, establish himself as the local crazy person. "The ghosts I see? There's usually not much to them. They're just memories of people who once lived, still doing their thing. You don't really have to do anything about them and they don't do anything about you -- they're not really there, they're just some kind of imagery that got stuck. It's just that we're in Gray Harbor so we're used to anything off and weird meaning something terrible is going to happen, or has happened. We see movements in shadows and think of monsters. I don't think Mrs Jackson really wants anything -- she's just been looking for her kid for sometime now and she'll go on doing so until she fades away."

Ravn pauses and sneaks a glance at Ignacio's yellow pages slash cell phone. "Wouldn't surprise me if you find out she died in some completely mundane and not at all ominous fashion while going to meet the kid, thirty years ago. People die young from natural causes all the time."

"Hmmm...keyboard and car." Kip suggested for music. "I can probably put a little flyer up at the Starlight's ticket booth too." She offered for getting the word out.

Listening closely to Ravn, she nodded. "Yes, echos of memories...people. that makes the most sense. They are not ghosts in the traditional way one thinks of a ghost. I'd like to talk with you more about this. Perhaps in the near future? Pick your brain about some things."

Looking back to Rekani and the records her was debating on buying. " ohh a lot of these seem interesting. And would probably sound good!" Not that she knows a damn thing about mixing music. But he could make anything sound good in her opinion.

“Bet.” Rekani agrees to Kip and Ignacio’s suggestions in one go, two hands raised in pointed fingers at each of them to let them know it was a consensus, a wide smile on his face. The rest of course was just water off a duck’s back, though with the pretense of glances over when people talked about ghosts. He pulls out a couple of the records, checking the prices, then starts digging in a pocket. He pulls out what looks like a pretty good wad of cash, and counts out what he needs.

Of course, there’s one last covert glance at the jewelry, and one made to Kip to make sure she hadn’t noticed, then he pays for his records and gets them bagged. He walks back over, pulling his phone out and flipping through his contacts. It seemed he did have Iggy down somehow, But he turns the phone toward the dude wordlessly, with some more of that eyebrow Espanol to ask and make sure it was right.

Ignacio shifts his eyebrows to Rekani with a slightly baffled expression, a serious one, a side eye, and a resolved look. The eyebrows are very busy here. Finally to Kip and Ravn he admits, "I only have experiences mostly with haunted houses so I dunno. Should we find her kid and tell him ooooor that like really damaging or.... I'm on the fence. I dunno what's fair to whom here."

Ravn in turn glances to Kip; she's the one with the ghost hunting equipment, surely she has some kind of professional opinion on this matter. "I -- don't know," he admits. "I never really did anything about this. You go around saying you see dead people, folks are going to think it's some kind of Bruce Willis joke. It never really occurred to me to do a lot about them, they're just there. Might be that her boy would -- rather not lie awake at night, wondering if the ghost of his mum has been searching for him for thirty years or more. That's a pretty heavy burden to place on somebody's shoulders."

"We should definitely not try to hunt down her son. Even if he was all good and believed? He can't see her and she likely wouldn't recognize him." Kip offered. "Sad as it might be? Best to leave well enough alone." Then she flashed a grin up at Rekani. "I am done here I think and starving. We should get food. " though she does pull out her phone too. Tapping a couple things before handing it over to Ravn on a new contact page.

Downside? It's all in Russian. Upside? All contact things are kind of self explanatory!

“It’s like we share a language.” Rekani sounds almost amazed as Kip speaks of food, mostly keeping out of all the ghost talk. Then, of course... he has to correct himself, “Like... besides English.” He barks a laugh at himself and lifts his phone still in hand to wave to Ignacio, the likely ’I’ll text you’ sign as the big Latino leads the way to the shop door and opens it to let Kip walk out once she’s done collecting Ravn’s contact info.

“Yaknow for some reason all this fog makes me want Fish n Chips...”