2021-11-19 - Guess What I Found

(TXT to ) Perdita : Ravn, I know it's late, but there's a strange man in my apartment. 5'11, Black, half starved but really well toned, curly hair that needs a good detangle and hot oil treatment, half naked. Says his name is Garrett.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Hang on. So are you telling me I need to get over there with a first aid kit, or are you telling me to leave you alone for a week or two while you ... detangle him?

(TXT to ) Perdita : I'm not bragging about a sexual conquest! Not that he's ugly, because I think he's really hot under the grime? He showed up out of nowhere, popped out of room 404 like he was being chased, and now he's showering in my bathroom. I'm gonna let him stay the night because you've ruined me with altruism, but if I disappear, tell de la Vega, okay?

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Well, yes, of course. Something similar happened to Easton Marshall, the guy who owns the Two if By Sea. Disappeared for six months, suddenly dropped out of nowhere Jumanji style in his own barroom. The day after his wife in everything but name made a pass at me. Which I am grateful I didn't realise at the time because that would have complicated things.

(TXT to ) Perdita : ... This fucking town. Is Easton okay now? Is there, like... a support group for the Formerly Disappeared?
The good news is, I've been checking the lower levels, except the basement, and as of 1am, no dead bodies, except a mouse, up to 404.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Well, I only talked to him about... once? I worked for him, technically, when he got back. And then half the town started assuming I was banging Bennie, and ... I decided to go back into tutoring instead. Don't think I've actually talked to either of them since -- no hard feelings, just... I'm not really comfortable with the idea that I'd be seducing someone's wife while they're lost in the Veil. Clayton will know -- I think he and Bennie are very close friends.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Also, if you want, I could come over sometime, check the rooms as well. I mean, I'm the kid from the Sixth Sense.

(TXT to ) Perdita : Half the town thinks you and I are banging, after that article. You know a lady at Safeway called me a homewrecking hussy when my back was turned? And yes, check the rooms, I don't need any more sad eyed kids pointing me to their corpses.
Unrelated, found a buyer for the whisky, going to make a trip to Seattle in a few days to meet him, but I saved you a bottle.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Oh sweet. Probably tastes like kerosene but at least I get bragging rights as a whiskey connoisseur. 😆 That said, get in line -- I mean, I'm also banging Aidan Kinney, supposedly. In fact, the only one I'm banging that the rumour mill doesn't seem to have picked up on is Hyacinth. Although it's possible that's just because no one at the Gazette is suicidal enough.

(TXT to ) Perdita : So we're going to get shitfaced on century old hooch and have a raging orgy with everyone you're supposedly fucking, and all the people I've apparently actually fucked and don't remember fucking during that three month gap. Which includes half the fire department, btw, from the knowing leers I've gotten from them, and at least one cop who saw me, blushed twelve shades of red and ran the other way. 'Fuck the police' is my motto, but I don't mean it literally.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : I shouldn't laugh but that is kind of hilarious, not going to lie. I have no idea why the rumour mill was so obsessed with me and my bed habits last winter but I chalk it up to nothing much else going on, to be honest. Once Baba Yaga started hanging around and the storm hit, suddenly people took as much interest in my sex life as they ought to, i.e. very, very little. So, does your new friend have any idea who he is and what year it is?

(TXT to ) Perdita : He's asleep now. His name is Garrett, hasn't given me a last name yet, and he's been gone since some time since 2020. Said he went hiking and got Lost. Sounds like a Londoner maybe, but says he's got friends in the area. I had some clothes that fit, but I don't have shoes in his size, so... I'm going to buy him shoes in the morning.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : People do get Lost in Firefly forest and in the nature reserve all the time, I'm told. And in this town -- well, you know Gray Harbor, it pulls people in from all over the planet. If he's a Londoner, I'm guessing he's got the gift as well? I'm pretty sure that if we look into the town statutes, there's a clause reading first claim to any and all occult practitioner south of Nottingham.

(TXT to ) Perdita : He looked glittery and knows about the weird shit in town, so he's not just some random guy they grabbed off the street, at least. There's only so many ways you can tell someone 'you were in a fugue state' before people get suspicious even around here.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Yeah, that's a good point. I have the overall impression that when the Veil grabs normal people, they don't come back. Whereas us -- well, sometimes we do because they figure we're up for a round two and another harvest. Does he remember what happened to him, where he was?

(TXT to ) Perdita : He didn't go into it a lot, and I didn't wanna pressure him. Seems like it may have been traumatic. I exhausted my supply of ready made food which embarrassingly enough was two bagels, and he's asleep on my couch. Tsinyorri is curled up on him so I figure he's probably safe enough, cats know people, right?

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Look, we're in Gray Harbor. When somebody pissed off my cat she ran away from her then-home and the offender ended up dead in a dumpster. People in this town are afraid of cats. Because there are definitely things on the other side that like cats. Remind me to have Kailey Holt introduce you to the Uncat sometime. You've already met one of her kittens -- Moe, the one in the toy dream.

(TXT to ) Perdita : Moe was scary but cute. Here's hoping Tsinyorri is only related in the way all cats are related.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Well, yeah. Just saying, in Gray Harbor more than anywhere else, you can trust cats to be... how to put it, confident? With good reason. Tsinyorri's the kitten you found yourself owned by after the time lapse, right? Remind me to come pay my respects sometime. Kitty Pryde is still investigating my new neighbour.

(TXT to ) Perdita : Yes, and she's a fucking hellion. She's already tried to leap to her death twice so she's not allowed on the veranda anymore. She has no concept of heights or mortality, and I am very, very glad she wears a freaking collar so I had something to grab.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Yike. Too young to have depth understanding, huh.

(TXT to ) Perdita : Or just determined to waste a life per floor. She's about... I dunno, three or four months old, so... hopefully she mellows a bit soon.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : My new neighbour is a lady in her 70s. Took one look at Kitty and told her who's boss. Kitty is going to be losing that war. Or adopting her. Not sure which. But Oak Avenue will be interesting for a bit while they get decided between them who's in charge.

(TXT to ) Perdita : Careful, the gossips will say you like your women aged like fine wine, next.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Well, Hyacinth is six years older.

(TXT to ) Perdita : Some say she's robbing the cradle, I say you're robbing the grave.

(TXT to ) Perdita : Don't tell her I made that joke, she scares me a little.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Hyacinth scares you? Why? People keep telling me this, and I keep not understanding why.

(TXT to ) Perdita : Okay, first? The woman's taller than me and wears the same kind of heels I do. I'm used to towering over most other women when I wear heels so that alone is a little awkward. Second, have you ever LOOKED at her? She's a fucking powerhouse. Third, people like her always see through people like me, so it makes me wary. Smart, educated, actually pays attention? Grifter's worst enemy. So... left over instincts scream 'run'.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Huh, that's part of what I like about her -- she sees through my facades like they don't matter at all. I've known a considerable number of high bred, rich girls in my time, but few who went independent and successful just to tell the rest of the family they have no power over her, and who are not into the whole... well, nouveau riche bullcrap. Hyacinth has nothing to prove to anyone.

(TXT to ) Perdita : I'm not saying she's a bad fit for YOU, I'm saying that as both a grifter and a trans woman, the biggest fear I've had in life for eight years is getting clocked and exposed, and old habits die hard. Like... I don't think anybody of note would give a damn if I came out as trans for example, but holy shit is it hard to stop living stealth and be publicly proud.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Understandably so. No, I don't think Gray Harbor gives a fig. Gray Harbor responded to my background with a resounding 'meh, so?' which is another big reason I'm staying here. The only person who cares at all is Rosencrantz who gets a kick out of making up implausible titles for me -- Abildgaard the kabillionth of his name, and so on. Staying low and invisible becomes a habit -- a part of your personality.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Hyacinth's two closest friends are gay men, though, I doubt she'll be all that bothered by a trans woman.

(TXT to ) Perdita : You would be surprised. There's an entire organization that's supposedly for gay, lesbian and bisexual people that specifically works to undermine the rights of trans and non-binary people, even if it means hurting other Queer people in the process. Not that I think she'd be bothered, but acceptance of gay men and drag queens doesn't mean they'll be kind to a trans person. Remind me to show you my Grindr sometime, you can read some of the messages I get from gay guys who don't want me on 'their' app... Like I haven't been using it to find hookups since I was a teenager.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : I hear about these things sometimes and I will be the first to admit that people confuse the shit out of me. I am pretty damned certain Hyacinth won't have a beef though. She hates stupid people and people who make themselves important without delivering, so to speak -- but she's from this town, I mean, nothing much unsettles or surprises the local kids.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Another reason I like this town to be honest: It teaches priorities. It's a lot more important to have each other's backs than what's in someone's pants.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : But I also realise that that is very easy for me, getting on the high horse -- as a privileged, cishet white man. I'm routinely amazed at the reasons people come up with, for hating each other. In part, probably, because I've never genuinely been a target. Even when I travelled down through Germany with Romani hustlers, I always knew that if ending up arrested, I have the name and passport that would get me out of trouble, and I am not going to deny that.

(TXT to ) Perdita : Wait, you travelled with Romani in Germany? I have cousins in Austria and Hungary, do you remember any of their surnames?

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : I'm pretty damn certain that none of them gave me their actual surnames.

(TXT to ) Perdita : I mean... probably not. To be fair, you still don't know what mine used to be before it was Leontes. I didn't have the heart to tell Alexander that my NAME is a lie, too.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : But yes -- Europe has a substantial demographic of Roma who typically are formal residents of Romania or another East European country but effectively stateless. And a substantial number of them live as day labourers, grifters, thieves.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Alexander doesn't cope very well with that sort of thing, no.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : I use my own name now but I'm sure you won't be surprised that I didn't tell your cousins my name either. No desire to paint a big, fat grifter target on my own back or end up in Russia, held for ransom.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : I travelled with what non-Roma would call a gypsy carnival for a while. A lot of people who do aren't actually Romas -- just people down on their luck or not fitting into conventional society very well. Not a lot of questions are asked. Most of what goes on is legit in the way that carnie grifting is still grifting but everyone knows they're being grifted.

(TXT to ) Perdita : I am shocked, shocked that you would lie to a fellow grifter. We're normally so honest with each other! And yeah, it's probably best not to tell most people you're a Count. If my cousin Dmi found that out he'd hold you hostage for sure, but be too dumb to figure out how to ransom you and end up sending the letter in Dutch or German.

(TXT to ) Perdita : Now Dhvani... I don't think he's been to Germany, but he'd just try to get you into bed. He's somehow worse than I am.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Fortunately most people in Denmark read German?

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : And hey, maybe Dhvani's my type? 😆

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Seriously, though, don't make a fuss about the title thing. Only a few families at home can still be arsed to. We're not British, they're rather silly about that sort of thing.

(TXT to ) Perdita : A picture arrives a few seconds later.
He is ALL yours. He needs a good Daddy to teach him to be less of a little shit.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : The choking sound you just heard was Rosencrantz somewhere sitting up and going RAVN AS A DADDY FIGURE TO SOME BABY GAY and falling out of bed laughing.

(TXT to ) Perdita : Listen just slap a collar on him and tell him he isn't worthy to touch you unless he behaves... it'd have worked on me at that age.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : ... Literally?

(TXT to ) Perdita : ... if he ends up coming to crash here? Maybe.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : ... OK, I will visit if he does, just to verify that you make your cousin literally wear a collar.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Might introduce him to Joe, the writer. Cavanaugh does like some spindly young guys. I think he gets a kick out of terrifying them.

(TXT to ) Perdita : ... I think you may have misunderstood my meaning when I said 'slap him in a collar'. Because I meant you should, not me. I'm mildly kinky, not from Alabama.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Well, maybe we can convince Joe to do it.

(TXT to ) Perdita : Tempting. Especially since if Garrett doesn't have anything set up, I'm already going to have one guest staying for a little bit, and Joe could just... keep him.

(TXT to ) Perdita : Dhvani, not Garrett.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Hey, might end up with Joe staying too!

(TXT to ) Perdita : Is Joe a Pokeman collector? Gotta catch 'em all?

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : I don't really know him that well to be honest. I know him mostly in the periphery of Rosencrantz -- but I get the impression that he at least likes to intimidate a certain kind of pretty-faced young boy, you know? Don't know if he actually does anything about it, already has a boyfriend and all.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Have you considered renting out rooms? Offices, apartments?

(TXT to ) Perdita : I can see it. Seems like the type to enjoy a little harmless mischief. And yeah, I've been taking stock of the floors to see what actually needs done to make the spaces livable again and it's a lot. I can probably rent out the ground floor to businesses once I get the junk cleared and the basement fixed, but I've got like... sixty units, and most of the ones I've seen have varied from 'holy shit water damage' to 'how do you even get feces in a spray pattern that far up a wall'. Though one was WEIRDLY pristine like it must have looked in the 20s. Like... untouched for a hundred years.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Betcha which one's the haunted one.

(TXT to ) Perdita : I'm gonna go with the feces one because if it actually is poop, they died. They died pooping, and now their angry poopy ghost is lingering just like the stains on century old light fixtures.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : ... Okay, maybe two of them are haunted. I was going to say, pristine room has an angry little old lady ghost who refuses to allow change. And you can probably sucker her into leaving and moving on if you promise to take good care of her house and her things.

(TXT to ) Perdita : I mean... probably at least half the rooms.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : So this Garrett guy -- assuming he turns out to be real and not some Veil axe murderer -- you could probably get him to help with renovations in exchange for a rent cut. And you can definitely get me and Aidan over, I'm sure. Which you should because when Aidan tells things to stop being broken they not only obey, they never break again.

(TXT to ) Perdita : There's a reason I gave him clothes. If he turns out to be an axe murderer, I'll yeet him out onto the veranda and off the roof until he puts the axe down... but that's not a bad idea. I've got a spare room until he can fix up a place of his own... providing he's interested. And definitely, any help you or Aidan want to offer up is welcome. I was thinking... maybe a floor devoted, on the down low, to people who come to the HOPE Center to get away from domestic issues...

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Sure as hell not going to turn down that offer. Everything HOPE does runs on donations like that. We have a lot of people who want to live under the boardwalk -- but also a lot of people like that girl, what was her name, the runaway -- people who you want to offer a place to stay without being a thirty-something man offering a young pretty girl a spot in his bed at home, you know?

(TXT to ) Perdita : Step one, don't be a 30 year old man. You DO have that gorgeous Maid Ravn dress, after all. I'll let you borrow a wig, your disguise will be complete.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : I like being a thirty-something man. I just also realise how it comes across if I offer a barely legal girl she can crash at my place.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : So yes, being able to refer her to a place with a door she can lock, run by someone with a female name -- good start.

(TXT to ) Perdita : Point, but in your defense when I was a barely legal girl needing a place to crash, most of the offers were from guys a lot less attractive and, uh... creepy. But it's hard to tell the good from the bad, especially at that age... shit, even now.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Yes. I've been in similar situations. And I think we both know that that kind of bloke has no reservations about hitting on a young boy, either.

(TXT to ) Perdita : None whatsoever, as long as they're pretty enough. From experience, there. I hitchhiked from practically Montreal to Miami and didn't start presenting as ME until I got to Miami and got settled with some other street kids.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Yeah, same. Spent most of my teenage years repeatedly running away from home -- and being, well, a spindly kid with big grey eyes and high cheekbones, the kind of fairy boy look that just screams break every body in my bone and make me say I like it to a certain kind of man.

(TXT to ) Perdita : How the hell did we get lucky enough to survive the shit we've done, and how do we get our mini-mes to not do it, too?

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : I'm going to be blunt and say, I can fork a guy in the fork without touching the fork. And my father's lawyer was never more than a phone call away. It's that privilege thing again -- Rosencrantz rides me about it sometimes, and he's right. I don't get to say that I had a rough bringing up on the streets -- because yes, I spent a lot of time roughing it on the streets, but I always had the choice.

(TXT to ) Perdita : Honestly, a lot of us aren't that lucky, but... I still had a choice. I'm pretty sure my mom wouldn't have let me be homeless or turning tricks just to have a hotel room to stay somewhere warm for the night... I chose to let myself suffer because I thought I deserved it, and because I wanted the freedom. Then I wanted the perks of being with Eddie, like the penthouse apartment. Even if this one's a crumbling ass building, at least it's mine, outright, nobody can take it from me... unless I forget to pay taxes.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Yeah. I wanted the freedom and I wanted to do something that I could do because of my own skills. Something that was mine -- not inherited. Just like now, really -- I still don't spend money to any great extent that I haven't earned myself. My people back home have long since given up on me in that regard. It's a pretty big deal to me, that I'm worth something on my own, something that wasn't given to me just because I got born in a specific time and place.

(TXT to ) Perdita : Don't forget, you still have pretty privilege.

(TXT to ) Perdita : But I know what you mean. Though... earning money is a novel idea.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : I also have male privilege and white privilege. I'm well aware. But at least to me it makes a difference. Whatever life I have in Gray Harbor I built for myself. And here, in our community of sparkly people, I'm the weak and underprivileged one who can't do all the powerful magic. I'm actually quite okay with this.

(TXT to ) Perdita : Honey, you have neon-white privilege. We're taking you down to Cozumel, visit my abuelita's family, get some color on your skin, fleece some tourists.

(TXT to ) Perdita : And you may be weak in glitter, but you're strong in smarts.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : I mean, barring the fact that I don't speak much Spanish, I'd have a party. Might be able to run the Friendly White Guy In An Ocean Of Dangerous Native People scam on a couple of US tourists with you?

(TXT to ) Perdita : Most of the locals speak at least a little English, the main business is tourism from English speaking countries, so it helps to know a bit... but we definitely could manage. And goodness knows a lot of guys on those cruises would kill for a moment alone with a pretty girl who doesn't know much English, too, and with another tourist hassling and the guy getting to play white knight...

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : I can pull that one, definitely. As long as I know the girl in question is on board with it.

(TXT to ) Perdita : Oh, she's on board, for sure.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Yeah. You need to be able to trust that the other person is okay with you improvising and getting a bit personal for that one. I wouldn't worry about you in that regard.

(TXT to ) Perdita : Oh, we're going to have fun with this. You realize we're going to Cozumel once we can, right? I hope you don't burn easy.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Why not? I never made it south. I was going to head down the east coast until hitting Tierra del Fuego, was the overall plan -- then aim for Antarctica or New Zealand.

(TXT to ) Perdita : There is nothing worth stealing in Antarctica unless you fancy kidnapping or penguins.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Well, I do like penguins. But I'd also be able to say I've been there?

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : I was travelling without wanting to go anywhere specific, really. Just trying to stay one step ahead of my ex.

(TXT to ) Perdita : The... haunting one, right?

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Yeah. The one who literally walked to the US across the Atlantic to catch up with me. Or get picked up somewhere along the way and teleported by the Veil for all I know. Or maybe it was just a dream and the real one's still going to show up at some point. In which case I hope she's really bloody tired from walking all the way here from Malta.

(TXT to ) Perdita : ... That is some It Follows level dedication. Holy shit.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Thing is, that's why I was breaking up with her -- and why she rushed off and had that car accident. She was jealous. She was convinced every other woman on the planet was chasing me, and nothing I did or said could convince her otherwise. It wasn't that bad at first. But in the end, she was ready to physically attack any attractive woman talking to me, and I just... couldn't with that level of crazy. Never mind that I never felt I could tell her much about myself, couldn't tell her about the parts of my life that weren't officially known.

(TXT to ) Perdita : To defend her, just a little, a lot of women would chase you, given the chance, but that shouldn't be fuel for jealousy, it should be fuel for pride, because YOU snagged that person and are keeping their attention. If you can't trust him, dump him. I hate that she lost her life, but I hate that you had to deal with that, too.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : If a woman doesn't trust me then we don't belong together. And similar the other way around -- if I don't trust the woman in my life, then I will move on. Not going to make this mistake twice -- and not going to make the mistake of keeping half of my life secret twice, either.

(TXT to ) Perdita : Same, there. If I can't find a guy who's glittery, even a little, I'll just keep having trysts with random mundane guys for fun.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Hey, if it keeps you entertained and your needs met, I don't see the problem. Apparently half of the GHFD does but heyyyy. 😆 Being single isn't the end of the world.

(TXT to ) Perdita : I'll get to the other half eventually, I'm sure. Excepting the Baxter, anyway.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : His loss?

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : At least he said no politely, yes? I don't need to go hiss at him for being a bigot?

(TXT to ) Perdita : Oh, totally. He was really kind about it, it just... Like I said during my hung over ramblings, I haven't encountered a rejection in YEARS. And, uh... my social life is... active.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Yes, well, then it was bound to happen eventually, and you'll get over it. He seemed like a decent enough bloke so I'd be disappointed if he'd given you a hard time about it. Kind of reminds me of that girl who offered me a quickie in the high school cafeteria, during the storm -- sometimes all you can say is, I appreciate the offer but, it wouldn't work for me.

(TXT to ) Perdita : ... wait she what. Who was it. Spill the tea.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Nah, doesn't matter. Point is, I had to let her down politely too. Nothing personal, just -- I was still single at the time but my interest was firmly somewhere else and casual hook-ups don't really do it for me.

(TXT to ) Perdita : Whereas romance doesn't really work for me. It means letting down walls. Not being Perdita, but being ME, and... ugh, no, I built those walls to keep that bitch locked up. But yeah, a hook up in a high school cafeteria is a little tasteless even for me. Though... I mean maybe.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Hey, I'm not judging. Whatever works for both (or more) people involved, works. Was just trying to say, rejection isn't always about you. Sometimes, it's just that what you're offering doesn't work for the other person.

(TXT to ) Perdita : I'm everyone's type, dammit. (I'm kidding, and I've accepted it, I'm coping with my deep intense grief with humor)

Oh, now that sounds fun. I haven't involved more than one person since that time with the twin acrobats and the aerial silks...

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : ... Your sex life makes me want to bring a couple of bottles of good wine, get you drunk, and just make you tell me all the stories of all the times it turned absurd or hilarious.

(TXT to ) Perdita : We would die of alcohol poisoning, and it would be glorious.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Let's get Rosencrantz on board as well and we'll have a party. I'll bring wine and popcorn, and a notebook.

(TXT to ) Perdita : I demand canapés, too, but I'm game.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : I'll bring you an entire lobster dish if we do it at the end of the season.

(TXT to ) Perdita : No shellfish, especially not any of your fighting friends. Yech.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Fiine. The season's ending and most of the fighting specimens will end up eaten.

(TXT to ) Perdita : That seems cruel. They fought with honor, they should be allowed to retire, kings and queens and non-binary monarchs of the fighting ring, to breed the next generation of gladiators!

(TXT to ) Perdita : Wait, do lobsters breed, or do they just like... bud and asexually reproduce.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Oh, some of them will be. But only the best specimens. The rest end up on plates. I didn't make up this silly concept and whatever I've tried to do to change the rules falls flat.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : ... Both.

(TXT to ) Perdita : ... good to know. So someday we'll be bowing to our lobster overlords, just like Jordan Peterson said.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Ugh, don't remind me of Jordan Peterson. I was checking out all that bullcrap some years back, you know? Took me a while to figure out how much of a bloody scam the whole thing is.

(TXT to ) Perdita : All I know is that he doesn't like trans people and is obsessed with lobsters, and tells lonely incels to clean their damn rooms.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : He doesn't like women either, nor any kind of emotional display. Hates drug addicts too, though he's harped on less about that since he had to ship himself to Russia for treatment for opiate addiction.

(TXT to ) Perdita : Yeah, hope he gets better and heals and all, but... wouldn't wish it on him, not above laughing a little at his pain because he's inflicted plenty on others.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : I admire a good con when I see one but -- no, can't admire a con that leaves so many injured people. A lot of those suckers are genuinely lonely people who don't function well socially, and he's sure as hell not helping. That's why I checked the whole thing out -- I was lonely and trying to sort out what was wrong with me. Whatever was wrong with me, he was not the answer.

(TXT to ) Perdita : There's a difference between a grift where some jackass gets fleeced for a few days worth of income versus what he and others like him do. They give grifters a bad name.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Pretty much. I always picked my targets -- people who could afford to lose a bit, better yet people who bloody well deserved to be taken down a notch. Professional pride, yanno? Don't steal someone's rusty family car that they need -- go for the Lamborghini that the rich sucker doesn't need.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : ... My first car theft was a Ferrari, ok.

(TXT to ) Perdita : Technically my first car theft was Bugatti, but it wasn't like... a grand caper. I took Eddie's keys and drove off in it, then got rid of it before it could be traced.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Hah. I was jealous as hell at my father for caring so much about the damn car. Swiped his keys, crashed it. I was fourteen.

(TXT to ) Perdita : ... it's probably very good that you're both a few years older and also grew up on another continent. Because we would have found each other and raised hell.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : ... It'd have been funny though.

(TXT to ) Perdita : I GUESS. Or we'd have ended up stealing some mobster's car and have cement shoes.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Probably would have ended with me in house arrest and you in juvenile tbh.

(TXT to ) Perdita : Oof, even with my old nose, I was too pretty for juvie, no thank you.

(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : All the better we only met when we were both boring and retired, no? 🙂

(TXT to ) Perdita : MOSTLY retired, and I'll never be boring. I own a haunted building where random half naked men might pop out at any moment... maybe I should check the fifth floor, I could find another hotty.