2021-06-19 - Green Day

It's raining cats and dogs outside and the winds are battering the run-down buildings of Spruce Street in a fashion somewhat reminiscent of kids beating up a town-sized piñata. The few unfortunates who must brave the weather for whatever reason do so with their coats up around their ears, running from their cars to whatever door they're going through. Tropical storm Cimaron has yet to strike at full force, but it's here. The weather is cold and wet and unpleasant, even if the tiles aren't quite literally blowing off the rooftops -- yet.

And this is the weather that Ravn Abildgaard not only goes out into himself but has also dragged poor Nicole Stein into as well. All for the sake of restoring Mac Machinae's verdant emerald locks to, well, verdant emerald.

The Dane pushes the shop door open and ushers his co-conspirator inside before they both get soaked by the driving rain. He raises a hand in a lazy wave at anyone inside and looks around for the green-haired menace herself. "Here goes nothing," he murmurs to Nicole.

While Abitha certainly had a mean streak sometimes, there was no way she had the heart to demand any of her employees show up in weather like this. Sparrow, Kyle, or Lonnie were nowhere to be scene. In fact, on first pass, no one was, and Ravn got to feel nice and awkward he waved before realizing the shop was empty. Until said green haired menace’s head peeks out at a strange angle, about halfway down the doorway, almost horizontal, from one of the side rooms. After first blush, it was probably because she was sitting in a rolling chair and had just wheeled herself to the doorway and leaned the seat back to see what crazy person had come out in this mess.

She honestly didn’t look much better than before, and though she might actually be happy to see Ravn or Nicole come through the door, she keeps her usual neutral, flat expression. She didn’t have makeup on, and likely to Nicole’s horror had about 6 inches of brown root. She’d somehow managed to keep some of the green in her hair, likely from dye mixed in shampoo, but it was no where near the lustrous shade of green Nicole had first coaxed from it.

Her head disappears again and the sound of chiming can be heard, likely as she saves and exits whatever she was playing. She then reappears a moment later. Her clothing also seemed a little lazy. Big baggy sweatshirt and some skinny jeans.

“What are you two doing here, it’s fucking horrid outside.”

Nicole rushes inside when Ravn opens the door. Her hair and leather jacket sparkling with rain drops under the light. As Ravn waves to the empty store, Nicole takes the moment to gently run her fingers through the ponytail she wears, trying to smooth it out at least a little. She came directly from work, so she is dressed in all black; today consisting of black skinny jeans with boots and a wide scooped neck, long-sleeved top beneath her leather jacket. When Mac pokes her head out from the door, Nicole smiles and waves. She waits until the woman reappears with her 'what are you doing here' greeting and answers, "It really is fucking horrid outside. But..." And she looks to Ravn with her charming smile. She'll let him explain.

A duo in black, that's what they are. Black jeans, black shirts, black leather jackets -- you'd think Ravn and Nicole colour coordinated from home (they didn't). The Dane lights up in a lopsided smile and closes the door behind them before the cold from outside manages to invade. "This is an intervention," he informs Mac with good cheer and mangling an Arab proverb in the process: "If the Prophet won't come to the mountain, the hairdresser has to come to the game shop."

Then he holds up a paper bag in one hand like a gamer lure. "Got coffee and sandwiches to go. We intend to feed you too. We are going to be the friends you wish you never made. How's the day treating you, besides being miserably cold and wet and god-awful?"

Abitha’s eyes slowly go between Nicole and Ravn, and though she manages to marshal her expression to remain as neutral and flat as possible, her eyes briefly look a bit glassy and take on a pale reddened shade. She has to clear her throat before she can resume your regularly schedule dose of abrasive gamer.

“HHmm. I mean... Just playing what I can ‘til I lose power, then seeing where the handhelds take me. I got a generator so I should be able to hole up safely here, and...” a light shrug, “If It’s destroyed again, at least I know insurance does its job.” She takes in a deep breath, totally not something to steady her nerves, no absolutely not. She steps to the glass counter and reaches across it, pressing something. A click can be heard from the front door, aparrently setting the lock electronically.

“Well, we can’t do this in the shop... Come on.” Does she offer thanks? Consideration? Have you people met this girl? She moves to proceed through the door into the back room and leaves it standing open. Likely neither of them had seen the workshop area, backstock of all kinds neatly arranged on the walls with a wide raw wooden workbench complete with magnifying lights, soldering iron, stacked bins worth of transistors, resistors, and chips, and a stool tucked neatly beneath it. She passes all this to another door that she puts her hands on, the lock beeping once and whirring before she opens that one as well. Inside are a set of stairs. She leads the way up.

“How’s the doomsday prep at the high school going?” She attempts conversation as she mounts the stairs.

For her part, Nicole stands with Ravn, smiling widely, possibly silently praying this goes well. When he lifts his bag of food, she then pats the duffle looking type bag at her side. "And I brought everything I might need. We'll just have to improvise on the sink situation... assuming you don't have a salon sink here."

Abitha's eyes go glassy and Nicole of course notices. She tries to pretend not to though. She takes a breath and her lips twist slightly to the side. Did Mac verbally thank them or express gratitude? No. But that glimpse of emotion and her not trying to argue with them at all about it seems like thanks enough to Nicole. Releasing a soft exhale, Nicole smiles again and starts to follow Abitha as she leads them through the back and to the stairs.

"I think it's going well, personally. I've helped out when I could. Ravn seems swamped when I've been there. Poor guy is going to need a week of drinking to recover from the stress of it after all is said and done. Hopefully the storm isn't as destructive as we are preparing for... but if it is, we will come together again to help those who need it. I should put some boards up on the windows of the salon, just in case."

"I might recruit you both to help me with the drinking," Ravn grins and follows in Nicole's wake even as she follows in Mac's. And like Nicole, he has no need to press the issue -- he didn't come here to embarrass Mac, and he's got more than enough in the social anxiety department himself to recognise that sometimes, not saying anything at all does in fact say a whole damn lot.

He makes sure to not touch anything in the back room -- largely out of an awareness that he has no idea what most of these things are, and a god given talent for making technology go pop, sizzle, smoke -- and latches on to a subject far less prone to emotional pitfalls instead. "It's not so bad. It's just that that the Gazette society page made me look like I'm somebody important, and now half the people volunteering think I know where everything is. I don't, but I'm getting better at keeping track of who actually might, and sending people on. Also, a fair bit of nodding and smiling and promising people that the actual emergency responders are doing everything they can to protect the city."

Nicole's last observation prompts a nod, though. "You should. Storm's going to be pretty bad when it does hit full power, the weather reports are pretty severe."

“Mine are already reinforced.” Abitha states with regard to the boarding of windows. Why? Well when one shop burns down, you tend to get a little paranoid. That doesn’t stop her from supporting Ravn’s idea, “But you definitely should.”

As she tops the stairs, she lets the other two get a look around at the wide open space, her open-plan loft meaning every part of her home was basically visible, save for the bathroom. She kept a clean house, probably from some need to keep things neat and orderly, but it wasn’t model-home sparkling. That would just be weird.

“Sorry I didn’t clean up.” This could probably not be discerned on whether it was a joke or actual anxiety with the flatness it was delivered and the state of the place. She simply points to a rack on the wall near the landing where they could hang wet coats, and pulls out of her looselylaced Converses before taking the last step. There were a myriad assortment of shoes neatly arranged, clearly all the same size. It was almost Asian in the demarcation of where shoes were allowed.

Abitha slowly starts to peer around, considering the kitchen first, also talking. “Well see if Maggi even has a bar after this. She told me she and her husband are planning to ride out the storm there.” After a moment, she seems to make a decision, but it would hinge on Nicole being done shedding coat and shoes, then Abitha would reach out to try to take Nicole’s hand, leading her toward the bathroom door.

Once inside, Nicole sets her bag down near the shoes and rack. "I don't think you will hear me refusing to have a drink or six," Nicole grins with a shrug that also helps her get her arm out of the sleeve of her jacket. She is hanging it where Abitha indicates then bends to unlace and remove her boots as she continues speaking. "They did that," she says to Ravn, "because you are someone important. HOPE wouldn't be what it is without your efforts. " Rising up after boots are neatly placed in line with Abitha's own (and probably smaller) shoes, she smiles to him. "You mean to tell me you don't know where everything is? And here I have been blindly following your lead at the shelter all along." She nods then, to them both. "I will put some boards up. If the weather holds, I plan to do a couple more appointments tomorrow morning. I can protect them after."

She looks around the place and seems clearly impressed. Nicole is used to living in a tiny little trailer (the kind that can easily be towed by a moderately sized vehicle). Joey's place is a bit bigger, but with the open concept, this loft looks expansive. "This is gorgeous, Mac. Low key jealous over here." She smiles and puts her hands on her hips, one of which Abitha soon reaches for. Nicole seems surprised, but offers her hand and starts walking along, saying over her shoulder to Ravn, "grab my bag for me?" But she is also flashing him the widest green that says something akin to 'Look! She's holding my hand!' Apparently, in Nicoleverse, this is like winning a lottery.

Ravn finds a convenient chair to drop his own leather jacket and Nicole's on. He looks around, not disapprovingly -- he's certainly seen wealthier surroundings in his time, but to him, the trick is not the price; it's whether the place is right for somebody. This loft is very much Mac, and hence, meets with his approval. A Mac would live like this because of course a Mac would. A Mac could never thrive behind a white picket fence; a Mac is a strange mix of industrial practicality fusioned with technology and Japanese undercurrents.

"I'm one of a handful of volunteers in a nonprofit that isn't even officially open yet," he murmurs, by now fully aware that Gray Harbor has adopted the narrative that the Gazette created. Not because it is true -- but because Gray Harbor needs something like that to exist. Gray Harbor needs any ray of light it can get, and he's coming to the realisation that to a significant part of the community, he'll be 'that guy from the charity' forever more. There are worse things to put on your stationery.

The Dane picks up Nicole's bag and follows the women towards the bathroom. He hesitates slightly before moving towards the door; a bathroom is a very private place to some, and not every woman will want some strange man wandering into theirs. "It's a pretty neat place," he agrees. "Certainly makes my boat look like somebody's wardrobe plus cat. Did you do the renovations yourself, or did you have somebody do it according to your design?"

“That’s kinda the best part about loft space, I’ve found. You don’t really need a design.” Abitha remarks as she shrugs. She leads the way into a bathroom that was very much just as industrial. There was a simple porcelain free-standing sink under a cabinet mirror, a simple toilet, then the glass wall that demarked the shower area with the tub. It was all gently, almost imperceptibly sloped toward the drain in the center. Sure, there was a lot of stark surface area, but some soap and a pressure washer, and she was probably done in under fifteen minutes if she put her mind to it.

“I picked where and what I wanted in the kitchen, kept the wall for the bathroom, and knocked out everything else. Contractors did those two areas, and I just kinda did the rest myself. I had a lot of one-of-a-kind stuff from my streaming days, and insurance paid it all out.” Again, there was that reddening of her eyes, almost imperceptible. She was just freely talking about all the sentimental items that had gone up in the fire, it was pretty unavoidable, but Abitha was Abitha, and the show went on. “But um... Thank you... I know I’m really lucky...”

Also in the bathroom, there was a low decorative table that she eyeballs, letting go of Nicole’s hand to clear the little succulent plant and coaster off of and move it over in front of the sink. Hundred pound Abitha didn’t even stress the furniture as she sat on it, leaned her head back to test the height, shifted the table slightly a little forward, then tested again. It would suffice. She stands again, so as not to seem just assuming of Nicole’s intent. She looks to her in question, but moves back out of the bathroom for a moment.

As an afterthought, she pokes her head back in for a moment, pointing at Ravn specifically when she says, “Stay.”

Likely they’d have a minute or two to confer covertly before she’d return, having swapped out of her sweatshirt for a simple black tee that had myriad bits of paint on it, and three bottles in her hand. Whitewood ciders. She would hand them off to Ravn with the bottle opener.

"You are so humble," Nicole says to Ravn. "You are one of a handful, but you are the one, well, for me at least, that people see actually out there making sure it does become officially open. You give people... hope." She shrugs, it's sort of a pun, but not really, it's the name of the organization, but it really is what its creation brings.

"I can't see Joey ever leaving that house, unless he one day decides to up and move right the fuck out of Gray Harbor... but if he did, I'd love something like this. All open and just, lovely. " She bites her lip then when Mac's eyes get red at the mention of the losses of one-of-a-kind memorabilia. "Lucky, yes, but... that doesn't erase how you feel about it all. Um... it's okay to, you know..." It is about halfway through talking that Nicole suddenly feels awkward and is clearly trying not to upset Abitha.

Nicole watches Abitha move items and test the table. When she looks towards Nicole, she is offered a smile and a nod. It will do just fine. But then, poof, she is gone, then poof, she is back, then poof, Mac is gone again and Nicole can't help but to chuckle.

"So far, so good, yeah?" she asks to Ravn. "I am really enjoying myself. I hope she is too. " When Mac returns with the ciders, Nicole lets out "yes! " She looks to Ravn eagerly, waiting for him to open a bottle and hand it to her.

"I was worried we'd be too pushy," Ravn admits quickly to Nicole when Mac flits out. "But I think we did good."

Opening bottles is something he knows how to do, and he hasn't gotten any worse as it since settling in Gray Harbor and being told in his first week that the best ways to cope with all the weird is to drink a lot and screw a lot. Taking the first half of that advice to heart, and all. American cider isn't his usual go-to but he likes it well enough, and distributing open bottles is certainly also within the framework of his skill set.

He looks around at the loft again; in part because the whole hair dyeing process is so very much Nicole's territory and while he may or may not have dyed his own hair black a few times as a teenager (he totally did, and dark purple too), he knows better than to meddle in the affairs of professionals. "I could live in a place like this," he agrees. "Not too big, not too pretentious. I am kind of, sort of thinking of finding something of the same kind for winter when I can't stay on my boat. Talking about rooming with Aidan Kinney, maybe. He's got a girlfriend in England and odds are I'll be on my boat anyway when she visits and they'd like a little privacy."

The trick to making sure no one resents you when they’re doing you a favor is to make it as easy for them as possible. Alcohol helps as well. Etiquette learned somewhere. It’s not that she hadn’t appreciated Nicole’s assurances it was ok to be a mess, but old habits die hard. She at least returns a grateful smile. Abitha fixes Ravn with a look after settling herself down on that little table, sitting straight, glancing to Nicole for guidance on what was the first step.

“Ravn,” the weirdly perfect pronunciation of his name, “Don’t you have money? Like, you’ve got rich folks, you always order expensive whiskey. Credit shouldn’t be a problem for you, should it?” She truthfully had no idea. A huge chunk of cash she’d saved from her streaming revenue had gone into a down payment on her original shop, and unbeknownst to her, the lender also knew her family. It seemed so easy.

Nicole’s commentary on a place to live has Abitha’s mouth open, an intake a breath... Then stops. She flicks a look to Ravn. She was holding something back, probably not sure how to breach the subject of, ’Your man is the functional head of organized crime, have him buy you a damn house already.’

"Mmmn." Nicole makes the sound after taking a drink of her cider, upon realizing she has work to do. With Mac sitting at the ready, Nicole sets down her bottle and goes to her bag, pulling out the items she will need; shampoo, conditioner, bleaching agent, color, brush, comb, foils... etc. Soon, the counter is quite full. "Oh, I didn't even think about that," she says towards Ravn. "About where you would live come winter. Aidan is pretty cool, that sounds like a good option for you." She chuckles as Abitha speaks to him. "She has a point," Nicole nods. "You could just get a place of your own. You could even stay in my trailer if you want. Keeps me from feeling guilty for not selling it... I get if you don't want semi-permanent roots in owning something, but, even so, you have options." She starts to run the brush through Abitha's hair, testing its health as she mentally prepares to turn the dark brown locks a beautiful emerald green again. She doesn't catch the look given to Ravn, but instead, starts to hum softly as she works.

Ravn hesitates a moment and then nods to Mac. "It's not really about money. My family's got plenty. It's a bit of a thing for me -- I live on money that I made myself. That said, I'm not miserably paid by Copenhagen U, and it's more a matter of what I want. If I wanted to be alone in a house with more space than any one man could ever need, I could go home. Shacking up with Kinney makes sense -- I'm used to living simple, I like living simple. All I need is somewhere to sleep and somewhere to put whatever books I can't get in Kindle format."

He smiles at Nicole's offer, though. "At the rate I'm failing to leave Gray Harbor, I might get over the roots thing. I've got attachments here. I can't just get on a bus one afternoon and disappear. If I wanted to leave, I should never have stayed more than a few days in the first place. You get stuck to a place -- much like Joey Kelly's stuck to his family's house, even if he could probably afford something better, coach of the year and all."

Both Ravn and Nicole can probably read Abitha's body language quite clearly, her shoulders relaxing, a breath she didn't know she was holding let go of. Having your hair brushed by someone else, someone that knows what they're doing, and that you trust... It's a pretty great feeling. Her hair actually want in a bad state besides how long she'd let it go. It was even scented lightly by the product Nicole had recommended to her during her last root touchup, before...

Abitha snorts about Joey being coach of the year, which could be taken wrong, but the damnable Revisionist changes had worked out funny for some. Also another thing.

"I'm gonna assume there's some language barrier or misunderstanding, but I don't think shacking up was what you meant there." She interrupts the brushing by turning her head only so long to send a mischevious smirk Nicole's way, conspiratory.

"Then don't live alone. Just get something you don't have to leave just 'cause your bro left a sock on the doorknob." She keeps a straight face only so long... Then scrunches her nose.

"And if you do try to skip town, it's not like I can't track you." Another conspirators glance at Nicole, confirming before saying, "We'll come after you."

"I certainly hope you don't get on a bus, or any other vehicle, and disappear. I prefer it if you stick around... personally." She softly asks Abitha to lean back so she can wet the hair in the sink, getting ready to shampoo then condition. Looking up at Ravn then and continues, "my trailer was probably too short for you anyway. I bet Aidan's ceilings are higher." Nodding, she says, "yeah, he could afford more, but.. you know.. family and all. I am going to start fixing it up some though." Shifting her gaze to Abitha, she says, "I am going to work mostly with your hair, of course, but will need to massage the shampoo and conditioners into the scalp, if that's okay." But, she then snorts a laugh when she makes the comment about shacking up. "She has a point." She gives a rather firm nod. "And yes, we would come after you. "

Ravn laughs as he settles on the nearest horisontal surface with his cider. "Easy, ladies. I promise, Gray Harbor has its claws in me well and good. I even tried to go home over Christmas -- and the only thing I could think of was getting back States-side -- and that in spite of Hyacinth flying over to keep me company. And Aidan is such a lovely boy." He can't keep a straight face for more than a few seconds. Then the Dane shakes his head. "No, I meant, sharing a place. I keep forgetting that that has another meaning in English. I liked living in student housing when I was younger, this will be a bit similar. Separate rooms, communal kitchen and bath facilities, something along those lines. Enough space that you can be by yourself, but not entirely by yourself."

He sips his cider and watches Nicole work her magic. "Kelly's pretty attached to that house, I don't see him be in a rush to move out. If you guys need warm bodies to help with renovations, though, all you got to do is whistle. I'm no born handyman, but I can use a paint brush or carry stuff around as well as the next bloke."

Abitha leans back carefully, shifting her seat slightly a few times as she finds a comfortable lean with the nape of her neck set against the sink. The neck of the sink’s spout was stationary, but at last reasonably long, architectural, Nicole would probably have an ok time. Abitha does crack a slight smile when Nicole talks about a scalp massage, because obvious reasons. “Please.” She seems happy to voice, shutting her eyes to avoid any uncomfortable splashes.

“You liked student housing? I would have thought you liked your quiet to read or something.” Abitha comments with a quirk of her brow. She does briefly open her eyes to look up at Nicole, “And likewise... I mean, yaknow... you’re doing all this... I have my low voltage license, so if you need stuff rewired or want a killer entertainment system set up.”

"Oh good," Nicole states as she reaches to get the conditioner into her palm, ready to thoroughly condition the heck out of Mac's hair before applying the bleach compound. Deft fingers begin to work it through the hair, lightly doing a bit of that massage work. "We aren't the only ones willing to stalk you. Hyacinth is on our side, which means, you'll never leave. Welcome to the Hotel California." She smiles and adds on to both of them, "I might take you up on the offers. I am pretty handy, but any bit of help... well... helps. I just have to you know, um... make sure Ma likes whatever I do. Otherwise...." Nicole rolls her eyes heavily. "Well. She would let it known, at least, if she doesn't."

Shrugging a little as she starts to rinse the hair, using a color mixing bowl to scoop more water with and let it cascade down Abitha's head. She is careful though to try to keep it out of her face as much as possible. "The idea of a killer entertainment system is pretty enticing... Ooh, I could get surround sound and have movie night or something." She grins, reaching for a town to dab off the temples of Abitha's head before it gets too close to the eye before rinsing more. Once finished there, she arranges the next steps, the bleach, filling another bowl with some blue toned cream, getting a brush, foils are out for when she needs them, clips in case, an extra towel. "So, just to double check, full emerald green again?"

"Plenty quiet places in Copenhagen to go with a book when you don't want company," Ravn replies with a grin that belies that actually, drunk fatboys at three a.m. were pretty close to his worst nightmare, and so was the couple next door (she was a screamer, Christ, was she ever). He liked the option of company whenever he felt like it, though -- even if that was pretty much never. He's also coming to the realisation that he's got strange mixed feelings about this that he's never quite looked at before. "Also, Kinney cooks and I like to clean so we're almost the perfect marriage."

Nicole's words prompt a laugh, though. "You know, I kept saying that during my first months here? That Gray Harbor is basically the Hotel California?"

And then, cunning as a cunning fox that graduated in cunning from the university of cunning in Oxford: "We could have movie night with Ma Kelly. Betcha there are films from her time she'd love to see again."

Abitha's posture sort of goes the way of stretched taffy, sagging visibly in enjoyment and relaxation as Nicole begins her expert application of conditioner. For someone usually so high-strung and wary, it was a sight. As she sits pleasently, she makes a few reactions, a snort about Hyacinth and Hotel California, a brief lowered and furrowing of Nicole's talk of Ma, as Abitha was still convinced people were just fucking with her at the cookout. Ravn's suggestion only seems to confuse her further, eyes briefly opening to squint in his direction poorly. She does then grin as Nicole actually seems excited at her suggestion. Abitha wasn't a stone, sometimes making people happy made her happy.

"Mmm." Noncommittal noise to Ravn's remark, "Yeah, but none of those places are yours. I dunno, that feels different to me." A short shrug, then her eyes open to look up at Nicole, looking slightly sheepish, "If that's... ok?"

"I mean, it basically is," Nicole says, eyes focused on Abitha's hair. "Even if you do get out, it drags you back. Just look at me as an example. I mean, I suppose there is a reason for it, considering those of us who are so drawn here..." She trails off, but her words practically intone 'you know, those of us with THE SHINE' without her saying it.

A moment of scalp massaging and hair conditioning later, she looks up at Ravn. "Oh! Could be! There's some classics from that time. I'll have to ask her, next time I see her."

"Mac has a point, Ravn. Those places aren't yours. There really is a different feel to something that is. Your boat is yours, right? And you feel kind of attached to it like I do my trailer. When is the last time you lived somewhere that didn't float, that was simply yours, all yours?"

"Of course it is," Nicole smiles down at Abitha. "I just wanted to make sure." But it seems Ravn isn't off the hook yet. "Think about it... a whole place, it doesn't have to be huge, or it can be huge, whatever you want. Maybe with close neighbors, like in a complex, or a building with condos, or a nice neighborhood street like, oh, I dunno, a place on Elm?" She grins then starts to rinse out Abitha's hair. "That way, you still have that whole, people there if you want em... I mean, just ask Alexander... we're there half the time whether he wants us or not..."

Ravn opens his mouth to point out that he does in fact own a property or five back in Denmark -- and then shuts it as the point dawns on him. Instead, he shakes his head slowly. "I don't think I have ever lived somewhere that was mine that way. Not that I picked out and made all the important choices for, no. Hell, I rent the Vagabond, she's not mine that way. I'm not sure what I'd even want, from somewhere permanent. I mean, the house I grew up in is still there, but it's rented out to an art school now, and most stuff that belongs to the family is in storage."

He thinks. And then nods. "We talked about Elm Street, actually. Renting one of the smaller, empty properties, maybe -- two bedrooms and whatnot, should work for two blokes who aren't friendly that way. Just seems like more space than we might need, unless we find the right one. I do like the neighbourhood -- Elm Street seems to have this pretty easy going atmosphere to it, that everyone's kind of up in everyone's business but only as far as you want them. Hell, half my friends live on Elm Street."

Abitha closes her eyes and is the picture of patient waiting as Nicole works her hair and rinses it, listening to the conversation. There's a brief tug here and there at her cheek, reactions to words, thoughts, considerations of wording.

"This is gonna sound preachy as fuck, but... I didn't feel like I got out from under my parents until I was in a space I actually bought, built, and owned myself." She finally manages. There's a brief slit-eyed look at Ravn, more trying to read his reaction to see if she was off the mark while still in an awkward position and trying not to get water in her eyes. "With money I earned myself." She waits, then shuts her eyes again. "The shop burning down and Mom putting me up in that rental for a couple weeks... Kinda brought that whole mess of emotions back." Her mouth twists again, maybe deciding those weren't the right words.

"I'm just saying its a different feeling. You're still grown and can do what you want."

"The thing is," Nicole counters to Ravn, "that it still isn't permanent. If you wanted to, you could sell it, move somewhere else, do whatever. You get to decide because, it is yours, for as long as you want it to be. It doesn't have to become a family estate that future generations can track all the way back to you." With Abitha's hair rinsed, Nicole starts mixing the bleach components together in a bowl. Abitha's hair is dark so it will take quite a strong color stripper, which can be tricky, so it is important to use something that conditions as it bleaches. "That's cool and all," she says as she mixes. "I love super old buildings and things, but... it isn't necessary. So you could buy a house where you want it now, do whatever renos you feel like doing or not. Etcetera and so forth and when you get bored with it or need or want to go elsewhere, you have options. You could sell it and use the money to buy a new place or whatever, rent it out and make money.. or whatever." Yes, she's repeating herself with the' whatever' usage. "It's yours to decide what to do with it."

"I fully recommend Elm street. It has my stamp of approval." She smiles then looks down to Abitha. "You ready for the bleach? Want to get up and move a bit first?"

"Right," she says after Abitha saying she's gonna sound preachy. "I don't think either of us mean to sound preachy or like, I am not going to judge you if you don't do it. But..." She shrugs, then nods as Abitha talks more on the subject. She smiles gently to Abitha then. "But, when shit happens, you build back up. That's what you did... that's what I did. Whatever the thing is in life that knocks us on our ass. We get back up, brush the dust off, and fight back. " Pausing for a moment, a thought occurs to her. "It kinda defines people in Gray Harbor. Like, our kind of people here. Most everyone I know has had something knock them on their asses and now they are claiming their life as their own." Her eyes lift to find Ravn's then and she says, "that's you too."

"I get knocked down, but I get up again," Ravn hums and then grins and sips his cider. "You're not wrong. It's the -- family estate thing, for me. My family's got one. And while it's rented out, I still feel like at some point I will be going home and doing the things I'm supposed to do there. Because that's what you do in my family. And at the same time I feel like, I'm in the US doing all the things I shouldn't -- make me."

He glances at Nicole and nods. "Probably going to be Elm Street. Maybe Spruce, depends. I'm not very attached to -- things. Maybe because there's a lot of antiques with my name on back in Denmark. Lots of family heritage and history, lots of expectations. Suited me just fine bumming my way around the world with nothing more than I could stuff into a duffel bag. Probably will take me a while to lose that habit of living ready to go. But it's also that I honestly don't care much -- if there's somewhere to sleep and running water, I'm good."

“Let’s get it in and processing, then we can play a game or watch something. I’ve still got internet, might as well use it while I can.” Abitha sits up straighter and takes a long pull of her cider before setting it down and putting her hands primly in her lap, waiting for Nicole to work the magic that didn’t turn her hair an ugly tone of orange. She glances to Ravn.

“Ok, but... What is there to do?” Abitha asks, seeming like it was a genuine enough question with how skeptical it sounded, “Languish around on a chaise and drink expensive tea while you read up on the stock market and bemoan the good ol’ days?” Because that’s what her mother did... “Like, seriously, can’t you just turn those places into some sort of museum and go do your own thing?”

Nicole gives a nod to Abitha, and when she finishes mixing the blued bleach creme, she starts to paint it upon the dark roots, wrapping each section in foil before moving to the next, leaving the already bleached and green ends alone for the moment. She is quiet for the moment while she works, as Ravn talks about hid family and what they do, and have, and what he will do at some point because he is part of that family. "Reading about the stock market sounds incredibly boring..." Nicole murmurs. "Though, a chaise sounds nice. I bet I would look good lounging on a chaise." But that's not really what they are talking about here. "Well, to his credit, he is currently doing his own thing, and doing that well. Better than when I first left home..."

"What kind of game would we play? I don't really know games much..." That could probably be considered blasphemy in the house of Mac.

"I did rent the place out, it's an art school now." Ravn chuckles and nods at Mac. He toys with his bottle, reading the label before he looks back to the gamer girl. "Besides, I have no head for the stock market -- can't find it in me to care. I suppose that does make me sound pretty privileged. I have this -- thing. For my own self respect, I suppose. I don't use money on myself that I haven't earned myself. Got a fair amount of family calling me a bloody pigheaded idiot on a regular basis, but there you go."

Might be better to just join Nicole's blasphemy: "You know my skill with computer games -- the one I don't have. But I'm happy to have my tail kicked in anything you like."

“From what I know about the bourgeois, chaise lounging is all in the hips.” There’s a look Abitha gets, sitting on her makeshift table seat, short enough next to Nicole that she did not have far too look, an intense sidelong look that was so dry you couldn’t even fathom a gender reveal party near it for fear of welcoming disaster. Jealousy, too. There was a distinct difference in the shaping of the two women, one having shape, the other about as flat as the delivery of the next line. “You’ll do fine.”

Abitha shrugs a little, “I mean, it is boring, but it’s kinda like watching an auction board. If you know what to look for and how to predict a need or a swell, like needing fire resistance for a new boss, better buy up all that elemental weave and up the price...” Gibberish to those unaccustomed, but that had never stopped Abitha before.

“Also, I know exactly the game you two will do fine at.” A foreboding statement. “Hell, I even got Esme into it.”

Continuing the bleach and foil, Nicole tracks the conversation, nodding in acquiescence when Ravn points out he is renting out the old family place. "I can certainly respect that, not using money you didn't earn yourself. Feels more accomplished."

Looking down at Abitha's expression, the mix of dry and jealous, she laughs when 'you'll do fine' is mentioned. "I am not sure if that is a good thing or bad..."

Tilting her head while she bushes a few more strands with the lightener, Nicole thinks about auction boards, not that she even knows what one looks like, but somewhere in her mind, it creates an image. "I am not sure I would like those either. But, that's what makes the world great... different strokes for different folks." Foil gets folded over those strands and the shiny package is rested on the ones beneath it before Nicole takes another section from the clipped up hair. "What game did you manage to get Esme into?"

"I think that if I was chained to a desk watching an auction board I'd gnaw off my leg at the knee to escape," Ravn declares with a small laugh. "Finances do not interest me in the slightest, much to my parents' regret. They wanted me in law or business, and there I was, flat out refusing to go to university if I could not pick my own field. I won the argument."

He glances over at Mac and also raises his eyebrows. "What are we playing? The Sims? I'll have you know, I am the absolute maestro at drowning little virtual people in pools. Although I heard they gave more modern versions of the game the 'feature' that Sims can now escape a pool even without a pool ladder. I object passionately to this change."

"You'll see." Abitha intones, the hint of danger to the word, though really, how much a threat was a game? "But I'm sure you'll both do fine at it. I will say, girl had surprising rythym." Maybe a hint, maybe not. One eye opens briefly to look over at Ravn, "I mean, I get that. Also, I soften the blow by automation. There's a ton of tool out there you can use to scrape information. Pretty sure Wall Street uses some stuff like it as well. You monitor for a uptick of activity, then automatically buy what's cheap of that thing. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't." She shrugs, "But that's with virtual currency, so less high stakes."

Both eyes open and her head fully turns to look at Ravn, eyes slightly widened as he lays out his serial killer ways.

Nicole gives a slightly sly nod towards Ravn. It appears she would also want to gnaw her own leg off if she were forced to watch such a thing. "My interest in finance stops at 'Can I pay my bills, my employees, and still have some for you know, fun?' Beyond that... I'll leave it to the experts." Surely Joey knows some experts at finance, right? "I am glad you won out on studying what you want. Parents too often don't seem to understand that pressuring their kid to do something they hate for the rest of their lives is not a good thing. But like, at least there are parents that care what the kid does for the rest of their lives?" Her shoulder lifts in a shrug as she pats down another foiled bit of hair, reaching to do the last.

"Sadist," she says towards Ravn after he speaks about the Sims. "I am the maestro of... um. Sometimes I play stupid games on my phone?" She shrugs. She doesn't really know anything about games.

"Wait." Nicole steps from behind/beside Abitha to face her head on. "Are you going to make me Dance, Dance Revolution?"

Ravn opens his mouth, then shuts it, performing a rather good charade of a goldfish. He blinks, and his thoughts flit across his face in a display so visible it might as well have had subtitles.

Dance Dance Revo --

Fuck.

How do I weasel out of --

Just two friends here though.

It could be kind of fun?

Pretty sure Mac will post embarrassing pictures everywhere.

Can't do worse than the horse picture, and I survived that.

And it could be kind of fun.

Somebody has a few issues with social visibility, even the very small kind, it seems. Aloud, though, all he says is, "Oh, so it's a musical game?"

“I mean... I got a DDR pad...” Abitha hedges, thinking, then... Well she stops herself from shaking her head, because she was still getting worked on. “No, there’s a more recent game. Just Dance.“ She finally admits. :You hold two Switch controllers and mimic the motions. It can be really simple, or really damn physical.” She glances between the other two, smirking.

“Esme talked shit about how video games were just for sitting on the couch being lazy. I wore that girl out. She ended up having to crash on my couch.” There was a pause, a brief lift of her shoulders, “Well, all the bourbon probably helped that too, but it was a stressful time.”

Nicole is too busy to notice much of Ravn's blinking as she finishes off the bleach foils. "We'll let that set, then rinse, then COLOR!" She says the last as if the very word itself sparkles with magic. Jazz hands might have been used.

"Oh goodness, that sounds almost like exercise." A laugh rises up as she starts cleaning the bleach bowl in the sink. "I can easily see how that might wear someone out. Um, I'm not that great at dancing..." She says this, but... "But, I might not be the worst. I'd be willing to try at least. Especially if you plied me with bourbon."

Looking up to Ravn then just in time to catch a bit of blinking, she smiles. "Dancing. Piece of cake, right?"

"Right," the Dane agrees with an expression that says there's better be a lot of that bourbon. "I'm really more of a musician than a dancer but as long as I'm not required to put on a tuxedo and butterfly, I'll manage, I suppose."

Pause. "And we do have a couch to crash on." Confidence level: Ravn. Prospect: Embarrassment. "Piece of cake. Where cake is a twelve-tiered affair that requires six Italian chefs, a sugar blower, four florists, and two dancing girls to be concealed inside."

Seeing Nicole was done for now, Abitha twists her body to check in the mirror what was going on with her head. There’s a thought, then a shrug.

“Yeah, it’ll hold up for a song or two.” She leans forward and levers herself up, thoughtful. “I think there’s a bottle Maggi dragged with her the last time she was over? I’ll check the cabinet.” And she was soon back to her hostessing.

Bourbon was provided, though not Glenfiddich, something not totally horrible, which Abitha remembers was actually left by Esme. Maggi had left vodka, the type that could remove paint. The system was turned on, Switch controllers issued and set up, explanations made on the menus and what not. She then moves to unpackage the food Ravn had brought with him as well, putting it on plates and generally just trying to make sure they were comfortable in her space. She decides to forego the first few songs, not wanting to disturb the foil work Nicole had done.

There’s careful snickering at first, controlled and nervous, but that eventually leads into more genuine mirth as she unwinds, both from the presence of friends and the imbibing of alcohol. Eventually she throws caution to the wind and joins in for Shakey Shakey, just to assure her guests she was not just screwing with them. She knew the moves, had rhythm, and honestly, her profile had the points enough to show how much practice she put in.

"Butterfly?" Nicole seems to be not too sure what the Dane means by tuxedo and butterfly. She does, however, know one thing. "Now I want cake... did you bring cake?" she asks to Ravn. "I need this cake. I wonder what kind of cake Vyv could make me...."

"Oh, no drinking for me until we're done. I don't wanna mess up your gorgeous locks." She listens to Abitha as the game is set up and explained, trying her hand at it while their host sets out the food. It takes her a bit to warm up, but, she eventually gets it a bit. She is not without rhythm, even if she is unsure of how to play the game at first. Those hips move as if she knew how to move them once upon a time. However, she is not as practiced at the particular dances as Abitha is, and when Shakey Shakey comes on, she tries to keep up, but mostly just enjoys herself, looking over to Ravn when he dances too, hoping he is having just as much fun.

"Butterfly -- the tie? Except not a tie, but a, well, butterfly." Ravn reaches up to his throat as if to point at the butterfly he is very much not wearing on top of his turtleneck. "Classical musicians are usually expected to dress up penguin like that for a stage performance."

As it turns out, the Dane is -- surprisingly good at rythm. Dancing the way the game wants? No, not really. It does not come naturally to him, in the way of someone who neither plays games like these a lot nor goes clubbing. A natural dancer, the man is not; he's got the awkwardness of someone who would probably rather swallow a live iguana than get shoved onto a dance floor; rather face an execution squad than an audience. But the idea of the rythm itself? The ability to predict what comes next, where the pace and syncopation will go? He's got that down pat. You'd almost think he was a musician himself. Doesn't the guy take violin lessons from Itzhak Rosencrantz or something?

The result is... mostly just amusing. Still, the man is laughing quietly, occasionally flashing a lopsided grin at either woman when his musical training allows him to at least make an educated guess at what comes next, so that he can keep up.

The cake, as it happens, is cinnamon rolls. Ravn is no baker, and it's what Safeway had easily available.