2021-11-27 - This Office is Definitely Gonna Kill Someone

What better way to spend a gray, dreary evening than hauling out old junk to the Dumpster currently parked in front of the building? Honestly, Perdita can think of about a dozen ways, but nine of them involve other people, and one involves a hot bath, a bottle of wine an industrial strength neck massager... but nope. She's currently dragging a box full of trash out to said dumpster. Her long hair is twisted up into twin buns, and she's wearing an oversized jumper that's seen better days and a pair of men's jeans belted tight around her waist to keep them from falling down... and work boots. Who on earth ever thought they would see Perdita Leontes wearing steel toed boots?

It's hard to say if Alexander ever expected it, but when he spots the boots, he gives them a deeply wistful look. He's, of course, dressed like a hobo, and was making his way up to the building until he noticed Perdita dragging the box. He doesn't say 'hi' or anything polite like that; just slides his way in and reaches down for the other end of the box to pick it up and help carry it.

When Alexander starts helping, Perdita just smiles and hefts her side of the box with a grunt of effort. Even with two people, it's heavy, full of random, unsalvageable debris from one of the rooms upstairs she's been trying to get cleaned up. Once the box is emptied into the dumpster, she stretches, smiling up at Alexander. "Thank you. I'd have managed on my own but you saved me a solid minute of dragging and some odd looks when passers by saw it floating on its own into this thing."

Alexander lets out a huff of air when they finally get it up and over. He wipes his hands on his jeans, and offers a brief, tentative sort of smile. "No problem. Cleaning things out is heavy. Surprised you didn't hire people." He looks back at the building. "Are you gonna do it all yourself?" It's only after a moment that he realized he probably skipped part of this conversation, looks back at her, and says, "Hi."

"Oh, I did... I'm just... working on my own for a bit." she shrugs a little, smiling. "Báte always encouraged us to get our hands dirty... and as I get older I'm realizing there are at least a few things he was right about. Not most of them, but... some." Perdita tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ears as she looks up at the building, a mixture of pride and chagrin warring on her face. "Hi. What brings you to this side of town, this time of night?"

"Báte?" Alexander asks, head tilting to one side. He watches her with a flat, black gaze as she looks up at the building. "It does feel good. To work on something with your own hands. I'm walking." Master of the obvious, thy name is Alexander. Then he kicks a stone, and admits, "I was going to come by. Curious about what you're gonna do with the building. All those rooms. All apartments?"

"It's Kalderash for 'papa' or 'daddy'. My father, not a kinky term of endearment for anyone." she clarifies, since it wouldn't be the first time she's called someone 'daddy' who wasn't her father.

"I'm going to try to make the best of it. Good affordable housing for low income families... I was... thinking about setting aside a floor for HOPE Center families that need emergency housing in cases where there's domestic violence." There's a hint of redness to her cheeks, now. Ravn has ruined her with altruism to spite the things that hunt them. "But there's also some old offices, and... the building's still zoned mixed residential and retail/office space, so..." She shrugs a little. "Why do you ask?"

"Kalderash?" Alexander asks, with the patience of someone who never quite outgrew that phase of humanity where it's entirely possible to spend a solid hour just asking questions until someone is willing to commit violence to make it stop. But he listens to the rest while he waits for the answer, and there's a flicker of a smile at the blush on her cheeks. "That's a nice thing to do." He looks back at the building. "People say I should have an office. I can't really afford an office. But I'm closer to affording it now than I have been, and maybe people would bring me more cases if I had one. And not just a web page. How much would the rent be for an office?"

"One of the languages my father's people speak. He's Rroma, from Hungary, originally."

"... I'm honestly not sure how much it should cost, but honestly right now I'd just feel better having more people in the building than me and Garrett. It's sort of giving me Overlook Hotel vibes, if I'm entirely honest. I expect to turn a corner and find two little girls demanding I play with them at any moment." there's the faintest shiver, because they've already found the ghost of a little boy... "How much can you comfortably afford right now, and do you need a place just for office space? Because... none of the apartments are livable right now, though I'm pretty sure there's been people living in them. There's a few offices that are in okay shape, and one that's... eerily pristine."

Alexander looks entirely blank at the mention of Overlook Hotel, although he does say, with complete seriousness, "I like kids, so if they show up, I don't mind playing with them for a bit." There's a bit of interest at the mention of Perdita's family's origins, a sense that somewhere, a mental file is being updated. He studies the building. "Um. I can afford a bit. Five hundred a month? Just for office space. I have a house." It's a bit defenseless, like he remembers someone thinking he was a homeless guy before. "But I can also do other things. Get rid of your squatters. Protect people, if you do that thing with the shelter floor." He looks intrigued. "Why is it pristine?"

There's a bit of a blank look from Perdita, before she smiles, "Let's do 300, for now, on the condition that you help me with the protection thing once we can start moving people in." She gestures for Alexander to walk in with her, shivering just a bit.

"I'm honestly not sure, but it's the only space I've found like that. Ravn hasn't seen it, but he suggested it might have a ghost... I just know it looks like it hasn't been touched since 1930, at the absolute latest, still has the old furniture and everything. Wood panels on the walls... if I could get the whole place looking like that... I could have the swankiest meth den in town." because there's still the issue of getting people to rent, after all.

Alexander falls in beside her, shoulders hunched. Sort of slinking along beside her like he expects to be shooed away at any moment. His eyes flick from one place to another, carefully, perhaps remembering what she said about squatters. "Affordable housing that isn't complete shit is pretty rare in this town. Put some flyers up at the mill, and near the community college. Maybe even go down and put some flyers at the college in Hoaquim. That office sounds...interesting. I don't mind ghosts. I don't see them or anything unless someone else is around who's haunted. I didn't think they were real, actually, until a couple of years ago." When they get to the door, he steps forward to see if it opens, and holds the door open for her, if it does. "I could do three hundred."

It does, indeed, stay open, and Perdita flashes a grateful smile at Alexander as she steps through into the building proper. Inside, the cluttered retail space is cleared out entirely and the double height walls look freshly washed down, prepped for a fresh coat of paint. At least the previous owner got rid of all the lead paint and asbestos in the place.

"That's not a bad idea. Filling this place with people that need a bit of help getting back on their feet..." she smiles, just a little, "Wanna see the office?" she asks, turning to walk backward through the space. Without the usual make up, fancy clothes and heels, Perdita looks both shorter and a bit more innocent, as if the perpetual subtle smirk she wears is something she paints on each morning with the lip gloss. Or maybe it's just because she's feeling relaxed after a hard day's work.

Alexander pauses just inside the doorway after he steps through. Things have changed and his immediate reaction is suspicion and looking for an ambush. But, after the burst of paranoia passes, he relaxes and says, "It looks nice. You did all this yourself?" He starts to follow her. "And yes. I would. Just in case it has residue I can't live with." He reaches up and taps his temple, to make it clear he's not talking about meth dust or something like that.

"I've had some help." Perdita slows when Alexander pauses, smiling, "But I've done most of it. A bit of it's been..." she wiggles her fingers, indicating her powers, "but I've tried to do everything I can by hand. The last owner was a freaking hoarder, though. Anything worth saving has been saved, but there were a lot of like... broken tables, chairs with horribly bent legs... I got someone out to look at the basement and have a new pump installed to keep it clear of standing water... I hope." she frowns, just a little. Owning this place wasn't her dream, but now it's hers, and she wants it to work well. She leads the way to the elevators, pressing the call button, which immediately opens the door, with only a little wobble to the door itself.

"Be careful with your abilities," Alexander says, with a frown. "Using them attracts Shadows." He looks over the areas that they pass, listening. The elevator is given a suspicious look, but he steps inside once it's opened. "I can do some repair stuff. Not much, not like wiring or shit like that. But when the wind blows in the right direction, I know a hawk from a handsaw." A quick smile at her that fades as fast as it blooms. "That's a lot of work, though. Do you like it?"

The elevator seems sturdy, enough, and Dita taps the button for the 3rd floor. The interior of the elevator isn't original to the building, looking like an upgrade from the 70s or 80s, but it moves smoothly up to the 3rd floor. At being told that her abilities attract Things, she tilts her head slightly and nods, looking thoughtful, as if she'd never heard that before. "My hands hurt, if I'm being honest. I've never been much for physical labor, and when it comes to the skilled stuff, I'm going to have to hire out... but for lifting and moving I can manage okay, and I can drag what I can't carry, most of the time."

The doors open on the third floor, which... has seen better days. The plaster on the walls isn't peeling, but most of the doors are missing doorknobs, and the red carpet that runs down the middle of the tile floor is desperately in need of ripping up and replacing, which is sad because the space once had a touch of old world glamour. All the doors on this floor have frosted glass with transom windows over them, and someone has attacked the EXIT sign over the stairs with a baseball bat at some point. But the room at the end of the hallway still has its door knob, and the wood door looks almost new, polished and almost gleaming in the dim overhead lights.

"That's it." Perdita smiles as she gestures, indicating for Alexander to go first.

"It's hard work," Alexander says, with sympathy. "I had to replace my carpet after the storm. It's a pain in the ass. Building like this is an even bigger one." He looks around as they step out; he doesn't seem at all disappointed at the way things look. "I could find photos," is what he says, instead. "If you wanted to restore. Might be able to get a historical society grant, too. They're big on these buildings being made to look respectable. Addingtons might pitch in, too. Especially if you name something for them. Addington lounge downstairs, or something like that."

His hands come out and he trails his finger along the plaster and the doors they pass, exploring a couple of the raw holes where knobs are missing for a moment before moving on. When they come to the door, he studies it for a long moment, even after her gesture. Then he reaches for the knob and steps inside. There's a certain tension to his body, like he's expecting something terrible to happen.

The door swings open to reveal a room trapped in the early 1920s with contrasting tone parquet flooring polished mirror bright, a private, though small, wash room complete with an old bath tub for some reason, and the space is even furnished with antique wood pieces. It looks like the owner of the space just... got up and left to go grab a snack, and never came back. Perdita waits outside the space, smiling faintly. She clearly appreciates the beauty of the room, but... has no use for it on her own. "I don't know why it's like this. I didn't go in once I saw it, just... in case."

Alexander's eyes widen as he takes in the interior. Then, his face transforms as a boyish, goofy smile, bright and free of any sort of hesitancy, arrives. "I love it," he says, very quietly, like someone who fears that with that confession, someone will be moved to destroy what he's found. He walks in, his hands roaming over the wood panels, the furniture, everything, although there's no stirring of his Glimmer. He's feeling the room, but not feeling it. Maybe because there's almost certainly something wrong here. He sticks his head into the washroom, and even bends to smell some of the things, making his way eventually to the little desk. He runs his fingers over the top of it. "No dust." His eyes flick back to Perdita. "You can get more than three hundred a month for this. You could sell this furniture and get a lot of money." He doesn't like saying this, but it's clear that he feels it needs to BE said.

"I could." Perduta agrees, moving to lean against the door frame, with a tilt of her head. "But it's not for me. I own the building, but I have a distinct feeling this office isn't mine. And besides, it'd be a big shame to strip everything that makes this room unique out and put the furniture up on eBay. None of the other spaces look anything like this..." she gestures at the wood paneling, at the floor. "It's all... ratty old carpet and peeling plaster. Someone loved this room enough to keep it like this for a century, and I'm not about to fuck with that. It felt like it was waiting for someone who could appreciate it."

Alexander looks around. "It's probably gonna try and kill me at some point," he says, sounding utterly resigned to the reality of this proclamation. Then he swallows, and licks his lips. "But, uh. If you wanna rent it. To me. I'll take it. If you want." He turns and stares at her with dark eyes. "I'd like it."

Is... Perdita's blushing. Just a little, when Alexander meets her gaze. "If you can handle having an office space that will probably try to kill you at some point, I can't think of anyone I'd rather rent it to."

She smiles, then realizes how that sounded, and offers, "Because I think you can handle it, not because I want you dead. You're a good guy. That's... kind of rare in my experience."

"My garden's tried to kill me at least once," Alexander says, with a smile. "Haven't gotten rid of it, yet." He shakes his head. "It's okay. Most of this town's tried to kill me, so it's not a bad bet. If you're looking for someone to survive it." He looks around at the office, his eyes shining a little. "I'm not a good guy. But I'll take the office. And help out where I can. I can lift things, fix things a little, stuff like that. If you want." He looks back at her. "...thank you, Perdita. This is very kind."

"Killer garden plants are new, at least." Perdita says softly, shaking her head. Why does she stay in this town? Sure, Eddie will never find her here... but she's pretty sure she could just yeet him off a high building if she needed to. Eddie likes high buildings, after all.

"Let me know if you need anything done with it... I think if you painted your logo on the door, that would be fine." she gestures at the frosted glass with a smile. "Give it a bit of a noir detective vibe." There's a slight tilt of her head when Alexander says she's being kind, and she shakes her head, just a little. "You try to help people. It's rare, and... I like that. I'm trying to surround myself with people that make me want to be a better person, because I know what we surround ourselves with is what we unconsciously mimic."

"Mm. Give it a while," Alexander says, voice dry. "All manner of flora will attempt to kill you."

He glances towards the door. "I don't...have a logo. But I could put my name?" A glance at her, then away. "If that's all right. I could put my name." He's stroking the desk like it's some large, sleeping dog that he's just decided to take home. But as she goes on, he gets visibly uncomfortable, shrugging and looking away. "Lots of people help. Ravn's better about it than I am. Even some of the Addingtons, and that family is awful." A pause. "But so are the Baxters, so I guess it doesn't matter. Anyway. Just let me know what I can do. To make it even. With this."

"It's a good name, and it'd look good on the door." Perdita offers, sounding serious. "Names are important, after all." She hesitates in the doorway, smiling, but looking a little... awkward. That's new. "I should probably get back to work, but if you want to come by tomorrow, I'll have a key made for the main entrance for you, so you can let yourself in and out, and see about finding the key to your new office door. I'm sure it's in the main office, somewhere. As far as making it even, don't worry. We'll get it sorted in time." she gestures vaguely, as if to indicate that it's already been sorted.

Alexander grins. "Names are very important," he says, with a clear and uncomplicated delight. "Thank you. And I'll come by tomorrow." He slips out of the office, a little reluctantly, his hands dancing along the edge of his jacket like a substitute for jumping for joy. Never has a man been happier to have what is probably a haunted hell-office.