2021-12-04 - Misericordia

So, it's chilly out, but the rain's let up for now. Stars wink through the ragged rents in the clouds. Joe's in his usual cold-weather garb - peacoat, watch cap, jeans. He's at one of the lower level firepits, where a fire crackles merrily....and he is, without any shame at all, roasting marshmallows. He's got a mug of something steaming by the fire (no doubt alcoholic), and the makings of 'smores'. Because even past fifty, he's apparently channeling his inner Boy Scout.

It's a night ending in -y, so naturally de la Vega's looking to score himself a glass of tequila. He's in the process of digging out a crumpled bill to pay for it, and whatever hot mess Joe ordered, while staring at his phone screen in the other hand. Someone must be texting him dirty pictures again, the way he can't tear his eyes away.

Joe has his fits of cat-like insistence on being the center of attention. Even as he turns a marshmallow on its little fork over the fire, he's nudging Javier's boot with his own. "What're you lookin' at?" he wonders, shooting the cop a glance from under his brows. "Rosencrantz sending you dick pics again?" .....he must've figured out which folder they were hidden in, on Ruiz's phone.

The Twofer's quiet tonight, just a smattering of people inside drinking and congregating. The outer deck's still open though, despite the weather; one of the firepits has been lit, and someone's even roasting marshmallows over it. His dark-haired, slightly more sturdily built companion has just plunked himself down with a glass of some sort of hard liquor, and huddles into his jacket as he tries to get as close to the fire as he can. He's not made for this kind of weather, no matter how much time he spends in the PNW.

"Wouldn't you like to know," grunts de la Vega at the intrusion, eyes ticking up and back down again. And, muttered, "I think if you tried, you could be a little whiter and gayer."

Speaking of whiter.. and happier?.. there comes the bouncing walk of Gabriella. She moves with an ease as she has a whole bottle of tequila and a shot glass. She hasn't had any of it. For those who have questions, Patron Silver. Not the top shelf, but also won't eat her internal organs as quickly. There is a bright smile as she sees the men (or the food -- probably the food).

An invitation hasn't been offered, but she's already walking that way and dropping into a chair. "Hiya." This is followed with the most angelic of smiles in her cutest way possible. There are dimples too.

The sailor slants the cop an amused look. "Well, I been takin' lessons from Itz, he is the master," he concedes, amiably. "I got all those years of passin' to make up for." No argument that he isn't visibly what he is. He turns the fork over - one of those who likes his marshmallows browned and almost melting, when it comes to smores.

He glances up over the rim of his glasses, as Gabriella approaches, says something to Javier under his breath, and straightens a little. "Hey there," he says, amiably. "How you doin'?"

Javier looks up from his phone at the greeting, to find himself faced with not one, but two blonds at the firepit. He glances between the pair like he's trying to decide whether they're multiplying, and leans to one side to shove his phone back into his jeans pocket. As far as food goes, it's pretty much just the marshmallows Joe's intent on perfecting; he's just got the tequila he's working on. "Sure you can handle that, chiquita?" he asks Gabriella, with a nod toward her glass as he pats himself down for his pack of cigarettes.

"You would be surprised what I can handle." Gabriella says this with a bright smile. Her eyes move to the bottle. "I was just in the building and I mentioned I sure could use a drink. I thought how I'd maybe like a shot of tequila. Strangely, someone bought a bottle for me. Seek and ye shall find, right?" Then she smiles at Joe.

"You have the best accent. It reminds me of when I was in Texas, but a bit of like when I was in New Orleans and then lands on I hope you are going to make me toasted marshmallows." She winks again.

"I won't take up that challenge," Joe drawls. "You don't seem like a woman intendin' to commit suicide by liquor. You wanna take on that much tequila, more power to you." Then he nods at the marshmallow. "You're welcome to this one. Even got the fixin's for s'mores, if you want one."

The comment about the accent makes him quirk a grin. "Thank you. I'm from Savannah, Georgia," he explains.

Javier, of course, knows better than to get between Joe and a woman wanting to rub herself all over his accent. Who the hell wouldn't? Chortling to himself, he leans back in his chair and lights up his clove before tucking the pack away. A sip, a drag off his smoke, a fire and a pair of hot blondes, what's not to like about this evening?

Gabriella brightens even more and puts out her hand for it. "I'd adore that one, thank you so much. What brings you here? I mean Georgia is warm and does not have too much snow." There is a pause. "I don't actually know if it snows in Savannah." Then her eyes cut back towards Javier, "And how are you doing.." She might have stopped herself from calling him Smiles this time.

Obligingly, he fishes up a paper plate, hands it to her, and then turns the toasting fork away from the fire - she can deal with the marshmallow, nicely toasted, as she pleases. The question of what brought him here has a little of that good cheer fading from his face. "No, it almost never snows in Savannah," Joe confirms. A beat, and he adds, "Well, the shine brought me here. I sailed here from Savannah, in fact. Took me about a year and a half, but I wasn't in any hurry." He must've dawdled his way around Florida and the curve of the Gulf, down to the Canal, and then back up the west coast. "What brings you to town?" No prompting Ruiz to speak. He knows how taciturn the Mexican can be.

Taciturn, indeed. Javier's got none of the Georgian's social graces, and seems dislinclined to speak if he can get away with smoking and drinking in silence. He's been watching the boats coming in and going out, dark eyes narrowed and crow's feet plentiful at the corners. And when Gabriella speaks to him again, it takes him a moment to reply, "Just fine," and wink at her before returning to his clove.

Oh so that's how Smiles is going to play it tonight. Gabriella comes over to sit right next to Javier de la AWESOMEPANTS. She's a breath away from a snuggle party at this point. However, the food is kept away on the other side. Precious. Her attention goes to Joseph though.

"I was born here. My grandmother is Gail Leigh. My mom..." Yeah, let's just leave that there. ".. so I just found out about this shine thing. It makes sense though. My mom doesn't have it. So I use to make her nervous. Things just happen a bit how I want them to. I always find things I'm looking for, such as that."

A little moue of understanding from Joe, as he fishes another marshmallow out of the bag, impales it on the toasting fork, and swings it back out over the crackling flames. "I've met your grandmother," he admits. "A redoubtable lady."

"It's strange to come to a place where it's common, isn't it?" he commiserates, gaze drifting to the embers in the firepit. "And I think it does tend to make normal folks uneasy, even if they don't know why. Swing luck your way, huh? I wonder if I've done that in my life. It'd certainly explain some things..." He snags his own mug from the edge of the fire pit, takes a swig. Irish coffee, perhaps, or something like. He certainly seems to have vastly more of a sweet tooth than his companion.

Joe and his marshmallow are absently watched by the scruffy Mexican as he flicks some ash off his cigarette. Then a little double-take for the girl who sidles up next to him, and practically into his lap. He clears his throat, but doesn't shift away. Flick, flick at the end of his clove, then it's brought back to his lips for a drag.

"You've got a little of the, uh.." He taps two inked fingers to his temple. As in, she's an empath. Like himself. He should know, as one of fairly formidable skill. "Felt it, the other night."

"I'm not sure I'm use to it. I mean I knew I felt strange and there are places over the country I've been where my dreams were more... real." Gabriella lowers her brows on that one. How does one even explain that. "I was chased by harmonicas the other night in my dream. It felt like it did a few times. My mom just thought I got into her drugs or I was a bit touched."

There is an almost predatory grin that curves her lips to that comment about the head tap. "Knowledgable? I know what you want? I mean you said I wished over reading my mind and I just said, I always get what I want." Then back to Joseph. "So what do you do? In town I mean."

There's something dryly thoughtful in the long face, as she speaks. "It's a hell of a thing to get used to," Joe allows. "The thin places. You know about the Veil? It's real thin here, and sometimes it's easy to cross back over it." He's matter of fact - there's nothing foreboding in his tone. None of the ominous note of the old man trying to warn off a newcomer to town.

He watches the by-play between them, one brow lifting, but doesn't ask. "I'm retired," he says. "Now I just write and do what I please. Pretty good life. What about you? What're you meanin' to do, now that you're here?"

There's something else he wants to say there, when Gabriella mentions getting what she wants. Joe may have charm in spades, but Javier's like an old wolf. Might be he's liable to bite, if you get too close. Might be he just wants to be left alone to drink and smoke in peace. He watches her a moment or two, and then he crooks a lopsided grin and turns to watch the water again.

"No creo que tengas lo que quiero, querida," he offers eventually in that rough, sandy murmur of his.

Gabriella nods towards Joe for a few moments. "I feel it. I mean I could always cross over but.." She frowns a bit. "I didn't know what I was seeing or doing. I just thought I was um.." Gabby frowns for a moment. It looks overly adorable when she pouts. ".. going crazy?" Then she offers, "I have a Masters in Clinical Psychology." Awkward and Ironic. "I don't know, maybe see if there is a therapist here already or open a practice?"

Her eyes cut to Javier and she reflects his smile (like a sociopath) and offers, "I'm sure I could buy it on Amazon."

He's slouched back in his chair, after edging it closer so he can still keep the marshmallow roasting. "It does feel like insanity to begin with, doesn't it?" he agrees. A flicker of amusement at that idea. "Well, if there's ever a place that needed more than its share of therapists and psychologists, Gray Harbor is it. You'll do fine on that front."

Too polite to inquire what they're discussing, it seems. Another sip from his mug, and then he's leaning over to fuss with the graham crackers and chocolate.

Does she really want to go there? The way Javier watches her over the rim of his glass while the other blond's talking, with the dregs of that wolfish smile still loitering at the corners of his mouth and the firelight picking out the red and bronze in his dark beard. He looks away eventually, sets his glass down, and eases back again for a drag off his smoke. "Psychologist." He rakes his gaze over her slowly. Down, and then back up again, taking the scenic route. "Huh. And you speak Spanish, too." Or so he assumes.

Gabriella smiles to that when Joe says it. "It does. I mean your dreams are so real that it's a lot like disassociation. So then when you are back and you don't have time. I was just so convinced that I had multiple personalities. Although, they don't call it that now. Or that I was just losing the line between fantasy and reality." She shakes her head. "So I went to college to learn about it. I found I was really good at knowing what a person needed or finding just the right thing and here we are."

Regular day Harley Quinn, which brings us to the Joker.. Gabriella looks over at Javier for a few moments and smiles so very sweetly. "Fluently." The word is given before she winks again.

"And here you are, indeed," Joe replies, warmly. "Well, I'm sure you'll do well here. Staying with your grandmother, or do you already have a place of your own?" A bit oblivious, it seems. Perhaps whatever's in that mug can account for that, for he takes another generous swig, even as he lazily turns the toasting fork over the fire.

Though he does inquire, mildly, "How'd you end up speaking Spanish?" As if the matter were merely academic.

Javier doesn't interrupt their conversation, this time. Just a little quirk at one corner of his mouth, when she winks at him like that. The server stops by to ask if he wants a refill on his drink, and of course he does. She tries to chat him up, too, and he flirts right back at her. His clove's whittled down to half by the time she leaves, and his dark eyes slide toward Gabriella's, curious to hear the answer to Joe's question.

Gabriella's smile falters just a bit before she puts it back into place. "Texas. I lived there for a bit around five years old. I'm sure we moved back for a year when I was thirteen too. However, I picked it up in El Paso." She offers a shrug of her shoulders. "It was more the main language. As of now I'm living with my Granny, unless one of you two want to offer to move me in." She takes a shot of the Patron and then offers a shot to Joe.

When she drinks, she closes her eyes tightly and scrunches her nose up with the burn.

Her eyes study the waitress and then Javier. "Oh. I see how you are. I'm missing what you need, but she has it in spades?"

A shot he accepts, easily, and knocks back, after murmuring his thanks. Her reaction makes him grin. "Not normally a tequila drinker, I take it?" A beat, and he continues, "You would not want to live with me," he says, amused. "I can assure you. Not to mention that I don't have a spare bedroom, you'd have to sleep on the couch. Plenty of folks around here willing to take on a room-mate, though. Worth looking at the ads, if you can't stand living with your grandmother."

He's silent again, as she asks Javier that, turning to sandwich the marshmallow between crackers and chocolate, before taking a bite. Sweet-tooth undaunted, it seems.

"She brings me tequila." He pronounces it like a Mexican, of course, and holds eye contact with the girl throughout. "And she has a nice ass. You, on the other hand.." His tonguetip skims his teeth as he considers her. "Eres hermosa. Pero te romperķa como una ramita." He's not even going to comment, it seems, on the whole moving in bit. Joe's already got that covered.

Gabriella looks back at her ass that she's sitting on. Then she looks at Javier for a long moment. A blink. "Podrķas intentar toda la noche romperme, pero todo lo que pasarķa es que suplicarķas misericordia." She says this so cutely. Like she's saying KAWAII!! Then her eyes move to Joe with a bright smile on her features. "I could just have your bed. Thanks for offering. However, I'm really happy with my Grandma."

"No, you couldn't," Joe replies. "At best, you'd have the couch." His tone is casual, however, unheated. Another couple bites and he's done with the smore, which is apparently enough. The toasting fork gets set gently across the arms of an empty chair, as he packs up the crackers, chocolate, and marshmallows. No sign that he understands their discussion, but no irritation at it, either.

Then he's settling back comfortably in his seat, holding those long hands palm out towards the fire, hiding the ink on the fingers.

The return-fire Spanish from Gabriella has Javier barking a sudden laugh, and putting out the remains of his clove on the edge of the firepit. His phone goes off as he's about to respond, prompting him to haul it out and pull to his feet, still chortling. "I don't beg," he pauses long enough to inform the blonde, watching her a moment or two while his phone continues to go off.

Then, "De la Vega," as he finally answers it. Knuckles brushed to Joe's shoulder as he steps away and toward the railing overlooking the dock.

Gabriella slides to her feet and leaves the bottle with Joe. Joe deserves it. Her lips curve up though. "It's great hanging with you both. Old man.." She means Javier. "Put your money where your mouth is." Then she smiles at Joe. "Best accent man, you and I are now friends. Expect much of my attention."

"Thank you," Joe says, graciously, as he lifts it to her in farewell. A glance at Javier, and then he notes, "That won't happen. You're far too young for him. He likes 'em a lot older. So don't get your heart set on the idea." All delivered in a tone of friendly advice. "You have a good evenin', now."