2021-11-23 - Panic at the Disco, Well, Sound Proof Garage

(TXT to Perdita Ravn) Isi : can I talk to you two like, in person

(TXT to Perdita Isi) Ravn : Yes, of course. Do I need to meet you in a secluded place? Shall I bring a shovel and a tarp?

(TXT to Ravn Isi) Perdita : Where are we meeting?

(TXT to Perdita Ravn) Isi : I need to get out before I go insane, ravn offered his house the other day. Take you up on it?

(TXT to Perdita Isi) Ravn : I'll put on coffee. It's a good house, we got a sound proof garage. For music purposes. Honest. Definitely not for torture. Unless you count playing the violin at people.

(TXT to Perdita Ravn) Isi : Soundproof sounds 👍

(TXT to Ravn Isi) Perdita : I'll be there soon. You need a ride?

(TXT to Perdita Ravn) Isi : I was going to call an uber, but if you are offering, ill take you up on it

(TXT to Ravn Isi) Perdita : Save the cost, it's no big deal and you don't need to worry about Ubering right now.

(TXT to Ravn Isi) Perdita : be there soon

The best thing -- some might argue -- about the early 20th century craftsman's on Oak Avenue is the soundproof garage. There are other good things about it, such as the coffee machine and the fireplace, or the lawn -- but the garage has seen some serious work to get it to be both soundproof and comfortable. As combined artist's studios and music rehearsal rooms go, it's top notch; it's even got a Keurig of its own. And a drum set.

Ravn slides the door open enough that someone outside can indeed find their way in -- around the battered old pick-up in the driveway which apparently does not have carport privileges (doesn't hurt to air the inside out a little either, Aidan's goddamn spray cans, the smell). If he's playing a few scales of his own on his violin when others turn up, then it's easy to hear in the street outside -- simple scales, nothing to be impressed by.

The Nissan Altima that Isi is picked up in is clean, runs well, and is driven by a focused and attentive driver who might not be a getaway driver, but who isn't in the habit of doing anything to catch the eye of police, like speeding or texting while driving, and soon Perdita arrives with Isi in tow, parking the car and leading the way into the garage.

Her hair's found its way back to wild curls, AGAIN, and she's just... dealing with it as best she can on short notice, with it caught in a loose side braid. She's dressed for the cold weather for a change, in a pair of jeans and an oversize sweater, though one of her signature faux fur coats is in the back seat, still. "Come on, he's in here." she tells Isi, flashing a reassuring smile back at the other woman.

Isi doesn't often wear a heavy coat, but one got tossed on last second when Perdita shows up. There is some toss off conversation - she really is going stir crazy.

All the time though pulling a smile up has been difficult though. She follows and looks around for a chair. Ignoring the "hi, how are you? great, I feel like crap, thanks" dance she dives right in.

"What do you two know about a guy named Felix?"

That, in turn, prompts Ravn to close the garage door behind them both before replying. "Felix Monaghan?" He returns the violin to its case and it to its shelf, along with the bow. "Local mob boss. Reputation for contributing a fair number of the bodies in Gray Pond. Not someone you want to get mixed up with. Ironically, his cousin Seth is one of my best friends."

"I... don't know anything. I've been trying to behave while I've been here... and I don't fuck with organized crime." Perdita glances between Ravn and Isi, brows raising slightly as she seems to shrink in on herself, ever so slightly. "What's going on, is this related to you being run off the road?"

"Shit, if the mob is involved..."

"Alexander fucking Clayton," so that is some irrational anger directed at someone who has only done good things for her, "tracked down my place and started suggesting options." She goes into a few details that she hadn't told the two of them before (hello, welcome to having your life in danger by having more information than you want!)
Her work on the new contracts for the city
The discrepancy she found in expenditures for past projects
Tracking it down to two businesses
Gathering the information and taking it to her boss, Emil
The truck with the maple leaf and trowel (which Alexander says is probably this old defunct business) smashing into herQ
Did she tell him about the guy with a gun? Pause - no, she should do that

"I don't know if they're connected - but I have to go back to work at some point, or leave Gray Harbor. That's not an option." The flatness in Isi's voice hints that there are ~reasons~ for that. "So he suggested trying to refind stuff before they realize I'm not dead and go back to the police," storm cloud face there, "or maybe seek out protection from this Felix person. I want to know more about option 2."

(TXT to Alexander) Isi : The guy had a gun too - after. I think. I was pretty fucking rattled.

(TXT to Isi) Alexander : You're lucky. It does speak to intent, though. He wasn't just trying to scare you.

"Absolutely hell no, flat no, definitely not on Felix Monaghan." Ravn's tone is adamant; far more so than customary for the usually quite soft spoken Dane.

He is often thought of and spoken of as more than a bit of a pushover -- someone who yields easy, can't hold his own in a fight, and probably is far too sheltered in his privileged background to really know much about how life works. Or just someone plain easy to screw with because he tends to lean back and say 'sure, whatever' when stronger, more opinionated people make their opinions and claims -- because if it doesn't matter much to him, why make a fuss?

On this, though, there is steel in his voice. Quiet, unrelenting, not opening the floor for debate.

"We could talk to Seth, maybe. I don't know how much he knows about his cousin's operation. I have very pointedly not asked because I don't really want to know. But I do know that there's at least two other mob groups with an eye on Gray Harbor, and if one of those has their hands in city hall, I suspect Monaghan's gang does want to know about it. And that possibly, Seth can negotiate some kind of deal. He's a pretty decent bloke, can't help that his cousin is an asshole." Ravn nods.

And sighs. "You have to take this very seriously, Isi. One of these other gangs -- the Reyes lot -- shot up a garden expo this spring. Didn't give a fuck how many civilians bought it as long as they got to shoot at Chief de la Vega. I can tell you from my seat on first row that it was not a good day -- and I spent two weeks in the ICU because the sniper thought I was de la Vega. Before that, they sent a tag team to the bloody police precinct -- tried to take it over in open daylight. Several people died. A friend of mine still refuses to leave her shop because of that -- doesn't go out at all. The Puerto Ricans are nasty, and not afraid to kill and overkill."

He paces. "And on the other side you got some gang from Spokane that we don't even know a whole lot about yet. They traffic girls through here -- there was a fire on the harbour recently. I only know about it because some of the trafficked girls from the ship that burned ended up at HOPE, and needed help getting out of town without papers or passports, or talking to the police. I'd appreciate it if neither of you mentioned that to any mutual acquaintances on the Force."

"... If Alexander can find you it won't be too long before somebody else is looking, too." Perdita says, softly. "It's not... just about work. It's also... Shit, Isi. This is bigger than you, for sure... If you needed help getting out, I've got a non-binary twink in my back pocket that's great with new identities, but..." she purses her lips and looks to Ravn, then lets out a low groan, muttering under her breath in something that is definitely neither English nor Spanish.

"This is why I don't stay in one town too long, you start caring about the locals..." she takes a deep breath.

"Okay. Maybe they think you're dead. We can work with that, I'll... be back in a second." Perdita slips out of the garage to her car, and is back quickly, carrying a bag from the trunk before firmly closing the door again.

"We're the same size, and about the same skin tone, so I can... make you look different enough that nobody should recognize you, if you want to lay low for a while... Probably not a lace front, those take a little effort to secure and make them look natural, so... hard front..." does... does she just carry a disguise kit everywhere she goes?

Isi is left blinking at the uncharacteristically firm tone from Ravn and then Perdita swinging right into disguise mode. She doesn't even try to slide a word in edgewise - and she's too taken aback by the fact that Perdita looks so freaking rattled as to go and get a disguise kit.

So she'll ask what is obviously the most important question. "I don't look good in lace - what do you mean by lace front?" Things Isi doesn't know for 100.

"I'm not leaving town - fuckers tried to kill me. I can't let them get away with that shit." Maybe she does have some altruism in her! "No mob, okay. That Chief of this town is a piece of fucking work though - reminds me of the assholes that are just off the edge of the reservation."

"That's kind of what it boils down to, though." Ravn folds his arms across his chest and leans against the wall, violin and coffee alike forgotten. "Either you do what Perdy and I would have done before we turned into settled, responsible adults -- put on a new face and run. Or you stay, and fight. Considering that you can't take on neither a Puerto Rican cartel or whatever the fuck those guys in Spokane think they are, though, maybe it's time for the other weapon in a grifter's arsenal: Misdirection. We need to beat the bush until the real culprit comes out, and they have something else to worry about than you. You're just a small fish, after all, and if what you know is public knowledge, then there's nothing gained from silencing you."

He thinks fast, and aloud. He is supposed to be smart -- in a kind of dry, academical way. This is another kind of thought process entirely; one where he rootles around at random in his own mind, shaking the mental shelves until something useful falls out. "Someone's got their eye on you. So the best option is to give them something else to get busy with. No one sane picks up a murder charge if they don't have to. You may not like de la Vega, heaven knows he can be a handful, but he's effective."

"I suggest we talk to Seth -- or I do. Confirm that this is not a Monaghan operation. Monaghan uses this town as his hiding hole -- he wants it to run nice and quiet, no big trouble, do some money laundering and drug trafficking, keep out of sight. I'm sure he's got people in city hall, but I'm also sure they'd have had you quietly discredited and fired instead, because that's kind of how his people do stuff -- quietly, efficiently. Felix himself would absolutely have you killed, but his lieutenants are smarter."

Figures that Ravn would know. Is there anyone in town he doesn't know?

"Okay, first of all, everyone looks amazing in lace, even Ravn. Hell, even Alexander. Second, it's a type of wig that uses a very fine lace netting to fake a natural hairline. You glue it down using spirit glue or long hold hair spray, it's a great way to look really different, fast." Perdita tells Isi, sounding vaguely distracted as she crouches in front of the bag, pulling out a variety of things and setting them aside. "I don't think we were followed, but..." A deep breath in and another out, and Dita sighs.

"How are you at driving, right now? Like... if you have to, can you?" she asks, tilting her head slightly to one side as she looks up at Isi, expression concerned, before those dark eyes flit to Ravn, expression harder, more business like. "If you were following her, knowing she's spooked... one tail or two, multiple cars, single vehicle? Car leaves with someone who isn't the target, you following the car or staying at the place the mark disappeared into?" She looks like she knows what she would choose, she's just... wanting another opinion.

MIXED MESSAGES HERE

OVERLOAD IN HER BRAIN

They're moving too fast for Isi to really ~soak in~ anything at all. Abruptly she stands and moves towards Dita, reaching out an unsure hand - "Are you even okay?" She'll get to answer the question. "I'm sorry - I didn't realize this would freak you out so badly. I wouldn't -" she cuts herself off and shakes her head before glancing at Ravn. "I'd have to stop my pain killers for a bit. Everything has a nice fuzz about it that would not be fun to drive in."

(TXT to Alexander) Isi : You didn't say that people were fucking scared out of their mind about this Felix person.

(TXT to Isi) Alexander : I didn't think 'stone cold sociopath' would be ambiguous. Who are you talking to about him?

"I'd have one man follow, and I'd just have them wait around places Isi is known to go," Ravn replies honestly. "Because that one man is cruising for a pair of cement shoes, setting up to whack someone in Felix' town. Make it more obvious, this becomes another shoot-out at the police precinct level gang war. I don't think any of them are up for that."

He glances at Isi. "If that's Clayton you're texting, have him come over and join the war council? Man's the most knowledgeable investigator we have. Neither Perdy nor I have been in town all our lives the way he has, and he makes a living being an arsepain to the police and criminals alike."

(TXT to Alexander) Isi : Ravn and Perdita, Perdita's flipping.

(TXT to Isi) Alexander : Does Perdita have some association with him?

"Devláika, we don't need anybody getting shot on any sides." Perdita finishes setting things out. It's a full make up kit with varying shades of foundation, highlight, contour and the like, along with several wigs in various haircolors... and even colored contacts. Who is this woman?

"I'm fine, I'm worried about you." Perdita states, sincerely, though her smile is wry. She rises, stalking around Isi as she does, looking her up and down, intently. "I'm sorry I'm worrying you, I'm in... problem solving mode. It can be a little intense."

"Okay. So they're looking for Isi. So we make Isi not Isi for a little while... and we give them a different Isi to worry about, one that isn't beat all to hell, slightly stoned, and a little less in over her head." Perdita's smile at Ravn is one part 'this will work' and one part 'what the fuck am I doing, what witchcraft have you pulled on me, talk me out of this!'.

(TXT to Alexander) Isi : I hvae no idea. There is a lot of talk about getting shot. Ravn says you should come over to his place. Why he didn't text you himself....

(TXT to Isi) Alexander : No one is getting shot. I'll come by.

"...god it's like a bad mobster movie..." Isi says to Ravn's comments about cement boots and whacking. Yes, her sarcasm is working at the moment. She IS texting Alexander and he's quick to reply. "He's coming." With a little extra mumbling on there on the end.

The feeling of being look at in every direction when there isn't the attached feel of 'this could lead to kissing later' is distinctly uncomfortable. Isi cranes her neck to keep Perdita in view, but it's awkward because she is not an owl. So there's a quick whip back around, ballerina style, but without an ounce of that grace. (Also, she pops her neck - def. not going to be putting on the special toe shoes any time soon.)

Until they start talking about a different Isi. "Woah woah woah, I don't want someone else to get shot.... Unless it's Alexander in a dress and wig." She's kidding. Scraping humor out of this OKAY.

"I don't know the first thing about disguises so I'll stay out of that," Ravn murmurs and goes looking for cups in the cabinet at the far end of the garage, behind the drum set. Not a single one of them match another -- but they're all curious novelty cups with colourful prints.

He takes a few moments back there to send out a few texts of his own. Then he walks back and begins dosing instant coffee into mugs. Just because you have a Keurig from a secondhand store somewhere doesn't mean you can't prefer instant coffee. "I think priority one has to be, find out who benefits. Follow the money. Who has something to gain here? Your man, Emil -- does he own land or buildings that might make fiddling with the numbers worth his time and the risk? Is he in debt, enough that someone might have him by the short and curlies? This is where we need Clayton, he's better at this than any of us."

The walk ends with Perdita standing next to Isi, mimicking her posture, her expression, all of the readily observed body language quirks that make Isi... Isi. "Woah woah woah, who said anything about me getting shot?" it's... a little eerie, she even sounds a bit like her. Not enough to fool a friend or a family member for more than a few seconds, but... it's not bad.

"Nobody's getting shot, nobody's getting hurt. You fell into something you shouldn't have to handle alone. Ravn keeps telling me we're all human here, we've got to help each other out. This is how I can help." she gestures at the wigs, at the make up, at her posture and expression. "We can't match them in numbers. so... we out think them. Ravn might be a known factor, but they've never dealt with me before."

Alexander is now standing outside Ravn's house, and sure, he could start knocking on doors, but instead he does a sweep of the house with his mind, and finding the three inside, simply projects his voice like it's in their ears, "Here. Somebody let me in?" He has a small paper bag in one hand. It smells like fresh baking and sugar.

Good Job Ravn! He wins a rather detailed account of what actually went on with the money. It boils down to 'every project over spends, and it's expected, but these guys overspent like WOW and since the job got done no one fussed too badly, though now I'm thinking there was a reason no one fussed.' Except in way more sentences than she EVER needed to use to do it.

"YOU TWO KEEP TALKING ABOUT SHOOTING." She PROBABLY would go on but that was just, wow, Perdita. ".... who the fuck are you even?" It's UNCANNY. UNCANNY.

Alexander pushes her right over the edge. Voices coming out of no where. Nope. That's not normal. Excuse her as she scuttles over to a corner to put her back against a nice wall. (Like that would help in Gray Harbor.)

Ravn opens the garage door, looking untroubled; he's been privy to this phenomenon before, and recognises Clayton's mental 'voice'. "Come on in," he tells the older man. "We're kind of having a bit of a war council."

When the door shuts again he turns to look at Isi, a little concerned. "Sounds like money laundering. Hire contractors, have them write exorbitant bills, pay said bills, they pay you back under the table minus a share for their effort. No customers complain since the customers are the launderers, and hence, no one investigates. Until some new accountant drops in and makes a mess of everything. No wonder they figure the easy way is to just take you out of the equation."

At least she currently looks like Perdita, still. Well. Perdita with a riot of curls that are going to be a pain in the ass to get under a wig, right now. As Alexander talks in her head, Dita's nose wrinkles, "That's... new and oddly intimate. I don't hate it, but... weird." she murmurs, slipping back into Perdita for the moment. Seeing Isi head to the corner, though, Perdita's expression softens. "The quick version? I'm a grifter. Remember at the police station? I used to do that a lot more often, to tougher men than Bobby." Oh, it's 'Bobby' now, not Deputy Robert or Deputy Lavoie?

"None of that matters, though, because we're gonna use it to get you out of here safely."

Alexander gets a nod, and Dita asks, "Spot anybody watching us on your way here?"

Alexander waits for the garage door to open, then slinks inside. He gives everything a suspicious once-over. Seeing Isi with her back against the wall, he makes a single, approving nod - at least someone knows how to watch their back - and then drops the bag on a nearby flat surface. "Donuts. Cherry filling, cream filling, and actual real donuts." By which he means just a round O of fried dough dunked in sugar. "Hi."

He shakes his head to Perdita. "No one's watching. These aren't exactly professionals we're dealing with here." He leans against something, crosses his arms over his chest, and stares at Isi. "You make your decision, yet?"

The wall is going to keep getting some booty action because even filled doughnuts aren't getting Isi out of it. Things just reached Gray Harbor Weird As Fuck (GHWAF for short) and she's reached the end of her rope.

".... no because fuck. Work with the mobsters and it turns into a fucking shoot out, get out of town and to... where - I'm not going back to the res. UGH." That's what she's got. IT's not a lot. She's just going to slide down the wall and sit down on the floor.

Fortunately, Ravn can bend enough to deliver a cup of instant coffee down to floor height, too. He distributes instant coffee to whoever wants and walks around the drum kit yet again to do so. This garage is the weirdest combination of sound studio and Aidan Kinney's art workshop.

"Are we sure they're not professionals? They're smart enough to keep out of sight," he suggests. "Instead of tailing her, just wait for her at home or when she goes for a drive? Anyhow, pretty sure it's not Monaghan's boys." The Dane glances at his cell phone as if it magically told him so (it did). "Might not be mob related at all. Could just be a bunch of local guys and contractors siphoning money from City Hall nice and quiet for a long time and then suddenly there's this fresh face asking inconvenient questions, but hey, Larry knows a guy who'll cruise for a bruise for a beer and a good tip."

"You look like Rhianna's on the other side of that wall dancing with you." Dita tells Isi, taking a cup of coffee for herself, and a cherry donut. She's not mimicking Isi, anymore, so that should be a little less unsettling. She's no shapeshifter, but it's not for lack of trying.

"Okay, if they're not professionals, it's what... some construction goon who wanted a bonus to his 401(k)?" Perdita shakes her head slightly, dropping easily to the floor to sit cross legged, her expression thoughtful as she finishes off the donut and sets the coffee cup down, glancing over her shoulder at Isi as she lifts one of the wigs. "If there's no one watching, I can just... teach you some tricks with contouring and..." she pauses, looking Isi over seriously. Is she even wearing mascara? "This... is make up. You put it on your face." Her tone is lightly teasing, now, hoping that having someone needle her will bring her back to her usual snark.

Alexander furrows his brow at Isi, then gives Ravn and Perdita dark eyed looks. "What the fuck have the two of you been telling her?" He rubs at his face, looking tired as always. "They aren't affiliated with Monaghan. They're a few panicking idiots, and there isn't going to be any sort of shoot out with anyone." A shrug to Perdita. "Pretty much. Did a bit of digging and asking on my own. Guys behind the two companies are cousins, sounds like they've been living above their means for a few years now. Probably don't want to give that up. They probably cut the last auditor and city hall guy in for a piece of the pie, and it was just too good to turn down when 'nobody is getting hurt'. Now someone new's figured it out, and they're fucked."

He takes the instant coffee offered by Ravn, murmurs thanks.

Oh good, instant coffee. (Also... yuck, wtf ravn) It's something to hold in her hands. Holding things is good for one's nerves, especially when liquid and hot. No one likes burns in the crotch.

Perdita's goal of needling her back to herself does work. She scowls at the woman. "I know what make up is. It's just not practical for every day. I run a lot," sad face at her cast, "or did run a lot, and dripping make-up fucking sucks. I'll put it on when I have a date."

She switches over to Alexander and stares at him, like she's attempting to dissect his brain from afar and make it pop out if he's being honest or not.

"I've been telling her that she needs to talk to you because you're the guy most likely to be able to dig up actual names and connections." Ravn doesn't look particularly phased by Alexander's criticism. "Running someone off the road with the intent to kill sounds like more than I'd expect from Joe Hill and Sons Construction. If you're certain those cousins are working on their own, though, then this is going to be pretty easy to gift wrap for de la Vega, at least. Have we checked whether Cletus McClusterfuck and Cousins has connections out of town?"

He knows about Alexander's opinions on names. It's probably not coincidental that he mislabels the people who tried to murder Isi Cameron. There are many ways to spit in someone's face and he has a strong dislike for people who try to kill his friends.

Then the Dane glances at his cell phone in all of its sparkly pink Hello Kitty cased glory. "Monaghan's not involved, at least not with anything violent. Got it from the horse's mouth as it were."

"..." It's not entirely clear what Perdita is saying as she begins cursing under her breath, beginning to pack her make up back up, but she looks both irritated and extremely relieved in turn.

"I... am really glad there's not some major criminal enterprise seeking Isi's death, don't get me wrong, but why the hell did you tell her to involve this Felix guy for protection? Of course we're going to start planning to smuggle her out of the country dressed like a babushka named..." she opens a passport that was under one of the wigs, "Svetlana Abramova."

"It's just some jackass roughneck boys? Bari Devláika, that is easier to deal with." Perdita turns to smile up at Isi, looking... relieved. "Sorry to feed into the paranoia, I just... you seem like good people, and I don't want to see you get hurt."

"I did not tell her to involve Felix. Involving Felix is a bad idea," Alexander snaps back at Perdita. "I simply listed it as an option, because people should know their options, and she doesn't like the cops." Now he's scowling, and his arms go back across his chest, the cup of coffee resting against the outer edge of his arm. "My preference would be to get the evidence, and take it to the cops. Once it's with the cops, there's no reason to try and kill her. But it's not my decision. People should have all their options, not just the ones I like."

His scowl turns to Ravn. "And that's not their names." Grump grump grump.

"You can help me with it once you're ready to date." Isi replies to Perdita's mix of irritation and relief.

She also raises a hand like she's still in grade school, but doesn't wait to be called on. "I did say that. Just... options. I have zero confidence this Chief de la Vega is going to do shit. How do I know he's not a racist bastard or corrupt himself?"

"Oh, he's both. He thinks white people are assholes and he's got plenty baggage." Ravn hitches a shoulder. "Listen, this is Gray Harbor. De la Vega's job is to keep this city running -- and he shines. He spends half his time translating reports of monsters and nightmares made flesh into something that can go into a police report. You need to be a bit more practical: De la Vega wants the town to work. You came to him this time with shit at town hall? Next time something goes pear-shaped, you might do the same. His job is easier when we work with him, rather than against him."

He looks to Alexander. "Did you check up on those guys, outside connections and all? I'd like to -- bury this whole mob idea if there's nothing in it. Digging up who in town hall is in on a regular grift like that sounds like normal police work, nothing we need to lose sleep over."

"Then I misunderstood, and I apologize." Perdita tells Alexander, sounding genuinely contrite. Of course she just turned into Isi in mannerism five minutes ago so who knows with this woman. That's the problem with grifters... even they're not entirely sure.

"You don't need it, you're gorgeous just the way you are. That said, you ever want lessons or need a quick make over, let me know. Those are fun." Dita's grinning as the last of the wigs slips back into the bag she carried in, shifting things about inside to make sure it's well balanced... just in case running with it is important. At the comment about white people being assholes, Perdita glances back at Isi, quirking her head, just a little, with a smile... as if to say 'he's got a point', without actually saying it. "If there's a regular grift in town hall it'd be good to know... since I'm now a fine, upstanding citizen in this town."

Although he's vocally defended Ruiz before, this time, Alexander considers Isi for a long moment, then says, "Send a copy of all the evidence to the papers, as well. The police and Mayor will have to move on the information, or else be humiliated. Mayor's an Addington. Humiliation is not something he's interested in dealing with. Extra insurance, as well." There's a shrug to Perdita, silently accepting the apology. He does relax enough to take another sip of the instant coffee, his eyes flicking to Ravn. "They don't have any outside connections."

"Whatever you choose, Isi, you'll need your evidence," he adds. "You said something about digital files?"

The instant coffee gets set down so that Isi can rub at her eyes. There's a tiny smile there too though, because Perdita just totally complimented her like, the NICEST way ever. She doesn't need makeup?! awwwwww. Gotta focus on the important stuff.

After a bit of thinking over what they've all said though she nods slowly. "Alright - yeah. But I'm going to need to get into town hall. There are redundancies of everything. Getting rid of proof in a government office is hard. We love our paperwork - there's a reason we joke about doing things in triplicate. IF the digital files are fucked with, I can go back to the receipts... or the documents given to the town council. But I have to get into town hall for it."

Ravn quietly nods his agreement. "I've not met the Mayor, but the Addingtons are big on smoothing out public scandal. Leading families anywhere, lots of face to loose, keeping up appearances is Important. And I'm pretty sure one of us can go with you. Clayton may be too well known to sniff around things but if anyone there is aware of my existence at all, it's as the occasional arm candy of the Mayor's cousin."

"I hesitate to bring this up... but if we absolutely need to... there's always that hungry reporter, the one who thinks I'm fucking Ravn to get ahead in HOPE International, whatever that is. I'm sure between the four of us we could even write it in such a way even her incompetence couldn't fuck it up." Dita finishes off her coffee. "Just... be careful. If you don't feel safe, we can still do the swap out... or I can get in after hours and get the files while nobody's around."

Alexander nods to Isi and Ravn, agreeing, "They won't let me anywhere near any city files that aren't public access." He says that like a man who has tried. "I can get around it, but it involves fucking with people's heads, so best not to. One of you should go with her, instead. And if you have a connection with a reporter, even better. Make copies, send to the cops and the press."

Okay. Okay. They've got a bit of a plan. This is better than what they had before. She takes in a deep breath and pushes herself to her feet. Ravn and Alexander aren't touchy, but ISi is, and so hopefully Perdita doesn't shove her away when she goes to hug her. "They probably won't like... kill me if I go in? Right? So if I just don't get fucked with going out then I'll be okay, right? Once inside it's not like they're going to just stop me?"

That's said she glances between Alexander and Ravn for confirmation.

Ravn's lip twitches slightly at the idea of Alice Hampton, junior reporter, as a contact. "Perdy's right. There is a reporter with a deep crush on Everett Woods -- who's managed to convince herself that HOPE is a big international charity. She's thirsty enough for news she'll probably print anything without thinking twice. A fact that will work in our favour more now than when she declared Perdita my girlfriend."

He glances at Isi at her inquiry. "I can't guarantee that. But I can promise to raise Hell if they try, up to and including invoking the actual girlfriend card and threatening them with my lawyers in Seattle and Copenhagen both. Which should buy you time to slip away at least."

"I would offer to give you a makeover, so you could go in as you liked, but I'm pretty sure you would object and also that they would immediately spot it as a disguise on you, no shade." Dita tells Alexander, with a certain fondness. A man so direct and blunt is rare, and should be treasured.

"They aren't going to stop you once you get through the doors. Security will be on your side... assuming this town can afford security... and you should be able to get to your files no issue. You just have to act... confident. If anyone tries to stop you... pretend it's someone you really don't like and just walk all over them."

"They won't kill you at City Hall," Alexander says, with certainty. "I wouldn't...accept any drinks your boss offers you, or go with him to a secondary location, or something. That would be unwise. But a mid-level bureaucrat is probably not enough of an expert assassin to off you in the middle of a workday at City Hall. I could be wrong, though." He perks up, slightly, at that thought. Perdita's teasing suggestion actually brings a brief, bright smile from him, even as he shakes his head. "I could go without being seen, but I don't have the access passwords or the computer skills to get the digital files. I don't think any of us could get the information as fast and completely as Isi could. She has to do it, if it's going to be done right."

More deep breathing. "Alright. Alright." Each of them get a look before she adds, "I still want to punch Alexander in the face for reasons I'm not sure of - but... thanks." That wasn't easy to say so she's just going to move away from all three of them with the convenient excuse of doughnuts RIGHT THERE.

Time to get into planning.