2021-12-11 - Pacing and Spacing

The absolute worst part of the freezing rain that has dropped all day is that not even Isi is stupid enough to go out and do physical-like things. So instead she paces her apartment almost like a caged beach. At this point her only visible injury from her almost death is the cast on her arm upon which she's written, "Fuck you Emil" in black letters. Despite the cold she's got the doorway propped just slightly open as if she can't quite handle the feeling of being locked into her plywood tomb of a living space.

Alexander is stupid enough to go out and do physical-like things. Although he's bundled up in a heavy coat, over an ugly sweater, he's not carrying an umbrella, so the freezing rain has plastered his hair down against his face and neck. He's keeping some of it off his head by the large...something...he's carrying over his head, and trudges steadily up to the door. Seeing the door itself propped open, he frowns. "You really shouldn't keep your door open on Elm," he calls through the door. Instead of 'hi' or anything like that.

~Improvement~ Isi doesn't jump out of her skin at the sound at the doorway, just turns really fast and glares until the voice clicks in her head. Yes, familiar, she knows it. "Tell my landlord to fix the fucking window so I can open it and I won't."

Honestly, hello is overrated.

"Don't linger like a creepy stalker."

"Why the fuck would you want to open it?" Alexander replies in disbelief. He does wait until the...sort of invitation before pushing open the door and coming inside, dripping onto her floor. "It's cold as Satan's balls out there, you know." Despite this, he closes the door only to the degree that she had it closed before with one foot, and then puts down the thing he was carrying. Which ends up being a package of cold weather window films. He stares at her, assessing. "You appear alive. Good."

"Because I feel like I can't breathe with it closed." Isi replies, her tone annoyed even as she says the words. With him inside her pacing is paused, but it's pretty clear she's got too much energy and no where to put it productively.

"When it gets too cold I'll put on a jacket till I have to close it. That's why you have heaters." Isi's gas bill is probably pretty big. "I know that people just coming back to life is like, a thing here in Gray Harbor, but I don't think I'm a ghost or zombie or whatever."

"You really are bad at money," Alexander mutters, not quite under his breath. "Have you thought about...a fan? Or something?" He leans the package of film against the nearest wall, not really moving from the entrance way as he stares at her. "Have you weather treated your windows? I had some film left over from mine. Thought you could use it." A long pause, before he adds, deliberately slowly, like talking to a not-very-bright child, "It won't work if you don't close doors and windows."

As to the issue of being a zombie? He shrugs, clearly withholding judgement on that front.

"The fan circulates the same air - it's not fresh," Isi replies, her tone more than irritated. "No - I rent, not own. You don't improve a place you rent. That's how the landlord fucks you. Wait till you're so fed up with the issues that you break and spend your own coin, then you can't take that shit with you when you move." Isi's clearly a lifelong renter of crappy landlords. She's learned her lessons WELL.

It's too much to keep standing still so Isi does return to her pacing, through it's more measured as she keeps a distinct distance between herself and Alexander. "Just - you don't have to stand in the doorway like a creeper. Just, sit down or something." A gesture at the couch.

"It's Elm Street. Nothing's fresh," Alexander points out, but at her gesture, he slinks towards the couch, looking relieved at the distance she's keeping. "And you should be comfortable where you live. I do all my own repairs. The landlord never shows up even if I call them." He shrugs. "It's better to just not cause trouble and get it done yourself." His fingers dance little nervous patterns on his knees. "You okay? After everything?" A glance at her cast.

"It's still air." Isi replies, a distinction that matters to her, even if it's totally incomprehensible to other people.

His question isn't answered right away. Instead she'll take the chance to pace and talk more about home repairs. "I'm not super handy about the house. Never bothered to learn. I bet on my brain to get out - not being handy."

His question needs more introspection and she stops not far from that boarded up window. "I'm... angry. Is that what you want?" His glance at her cast has her pulling it closer against her.

Alexander opens his mouth, clearly ready to argue that it is all air, so what does it matter...but he watches her pace, and instead his mouth closes and he says, reluctantly, "Okay. It's your house." Sort of. He tracks her with his eyes, listening. And when she tosses the question back at him, he takes some time to think about it in turn. "No. Why would I want you to be angry? Anger is probably better than fear, though."

"Oh - I'm fucking scared." Isi replies, though the word is laced with bitterness. "But I'm more angry at.... why am I telling you this?" She stops bearing her soul and instead hugs her cast even closer.

"You're just like, a good guy aren't you? One of those ones who wants to do the right thing even if it's awkward?" She's going to turn this back around on him rather an let it stay on herself. "So what's your story even?"

Alexander cocks his head to one side. "I...asked?" A pause. "You could just tell me to fuck off. A lot of people do. But it can help to talk about things. It's hard to know someone tried to kill you. Even if they can't do it again. It's still hard."

His frown grows deeper at the rest. "No. I'm not a good guy. But I want to do the right thing. I want people to do the right things. But I can't control what anyone else does. Never works out." He stares at her, thinking about the last question. "I grew up here. I'm a little crazy. I don't like to see people hurt. But I'm very good at hurting people. But I try not to, these days. It's not a very interesting story." He sighs. "Have you gone back to work?"

"I could but it's like - kicking a puppy now that I know you're not some guy that's going to try to mug me or something." Isi's not ice but there are even lines she doesn't cross without provocation to push her over the line.

"That's the same thing you know - good guy, doing the right things." She doesn't join him on the sofa but does go to sit on the edge of an old side table that requires her to push some papers out of the way. "Yes. Have to sit through a training on inappropriate workplace relationships though." The way her nose wrinkles is a predictor of how serious she is, "I almost think it would have been better to die."

Alexander's brow goes all wrinkly. Slowly, he says, "I...agree that your boss trying to kill you is an inappropriate relationship, but I don't think it's one that can be fixed by giving you training. Unless the training is in knives. Do you know how to use a knife? Maybe you should learn."

He leans to give a nosy look at the papers, like he just can't help himself. "And no. It's not the same thing. I want to do the right thing. But I don't always. And sometimes what I think is right in the moment...probably isn't. When it's all over. I don't think about things the right way, sometimes. And," a wry smile flickers on his face, "as Isabella said once, I have a inherent instinct to be submissive to sadistic sociopaths. It's not a great trait if you wanna be a good person."

Isi rubs the middle of her forehead. "He almost cornered me in his office, so I started yelling about him cheating on me to make everyone in the office look at us. That way he couldn't do shit and I could run." It made sense at the time.

She doesn't realize he's being nosy, and doesn't push her papers out of the way. For the most part, not interesting. Bills, advertisements, but there are a couple hand written letters and a post card, all baring the address of southern Washington, the Yakama reservation.

".... That is more than I wanted to ever know about your sex life." Because yes, Isi is going to take 'submissive' in the worst way possible. "But you try right? Then you're a good guy. Like look - have I ever done anything but insult you? And yet you're here with," a glance over at the things he brought with him, "stuff to try to help."

Alexander is a very good guy. Which is why he's totally going to reach over and try and snag that post card from the stack of letters to read. "That was good thinking," he muses, with a nod of approval. "Bet it caught him off balance. And he's going to jail for a long time, I bet. You can suffer through a training for that." He snorts at the quip. "Not like that," he says, although he doesn't seem offended. "And I try. But sometimes you can try and just fuck things up more. If you don't really know what right is." He doesn't look back at the window treatments, just says, "I had it left over."

"Don't," Isi replies, but with her dominate arm in the cast there's no way she's going to be able to snag it back. On the post card it says, "Greetings from Toppenish!" along with a glossy photo that tries way too hard to look Native. The flipside has a child's drawing on it with a big Thank You, misspelled on the other side. Isi is actually going to move towards him now to try to grab it back. "That's none of your business."

"He deserved worse than he got. The fucking lawyer says if I don't testify they just have the financial crimes." And she won't testify, period.

"Give that back."

Alexander doesn't resist when she tries to grab it back; he hands it over easily...although not without looking at the other side and seeing that child's thank you, first. His eyebrows arch with curiosity. Blithely ignoring what is or is not his business, he asks, "Why won't you testify? They tried to kill you. They should receive judgement for that." Dark eyes flick up to watch her expression. "And what's the kid thanking you for?"

"Because the courts are fucking corrupt and I don't trust them. I've seen family members try to get justice, it never works. Ever." Isi is not to be dissuaded from this resolve, her lips settled into a mulish line.

Isi is determinedly not looking at him now, her eyes instead settled on her lamp across the way. "My aunts were about to get evicted so I sent some money." There's a shrug of her shoulder. "They've got five kids and there aren't many jobs on the reservation and the breadwinner just lost hers. So." That's too much of her soft center so she's going to stand up and start pacing again.

"This isn't okay - why do people think you're crazy." Back to Alexander.

"The courts are sometimes corrupt," Alexander agrees without difficulty. "And they don't dispense justice when it's hard. It's frustrating. The financial crimes should be enough to put these guys away for a couple years, at least. It would be better if you testified, though," he adds, a bit stubbornly. He falls silently to listen to the rest. A smile flickers briefly to life at her explanation, but he doesn't say anything about it. Just looks quietly pleased.

When she tosses the ball back into his court, he shrugs. "Because I probably am." A pause. "But more because I couldn't control my abilities as a kid. Kept picking things up and not knowing how to deal with them. Kept getting Lost. And if you don't stand out, then the Veil won't let you remember or believe any of this shit. So what are you gonna think about a kid who tells you that the reason he has weird bite marks all over him is because he ended up somewhere that people who looked like his classmates tried to eat him alive? Obviously he did it to himself. It's a rational assumption."

Then he lobs the conversation back to her. "Why do you act ashamed of helping people out?"

"No." Finality there - Isi's not going to open the discussion of the courts again (well, today). The postcard gets tucked into the middle of the pile of things before she tosses it into the bedroom and firmly closes the doorway.

"You're not a kid any more. Fuckers who don't understand that people don't stay the same from childhood don't deserve your time." Isi believes this as she turns back around and glares at Alexander. "I don't get why you'd given them a second of time."

His question hs her pacing a few steps towards the kitchenette - only to realize she needs nothing from that area of the apartment. "No one should be proud of needing help." And back to him, "What do you mean by lost? Someone said that but I don't get it."

"Still pretty crazy, though," Alexander says, even a bit cheerfully. "I still have Incidents. It's hard to control my emotions when things get under my skin. Or when I read something that's...bad. And I don't think the way other people do. About names, and other things." He shrugs. "Schizotypal personality, if you wanna start breaking out DSMs. It's not quite right. Not quite. But close."

His eyes continue to track her as she moves around. "I have it better than some. A lot of us who stand out and can't hide it got sent Upstate. Which actually turns out to be an insane asylum Over There where they were tortured. My parents never sent me Upstate." He pauses. "Lost." The capital letter is emphasized in how he says it. "Some people call it Dreams? I always call it getting Lost. Suddenly you're not where you were, and things happen. Sometimes it feels like the real world, until your mom's trying to encourage you to become a serial killer or something. Sometimes it's wolf-headed gangsters." He raises one hand to show the bandaged wrist. "You never can tell."

"Like... a dog...?" Isi says slowly at the name of that medical diagnosis. Schizotypal, not shih tzu-cal. Math major over here, psychology would be the ~opposite~ of that.

It's unfortunate that there isn't much room to pace, and Alexander's presence cuts that down to at least if she's going to keep the distance between them that she prefers. A glance at his wrists. "Ah." She's had enough experience at that at least for it to make sense.

"You're not going to lose it here, right? That mind fuck-ery, it's...." A very real shudder there. Right along side a nicely developed fear of trucks is an increasing unease about people's abilities. "It's under control right? You aren't in my head?" Why yes, she has been practicing the little trick he told her about last time.

"Not like a dog," Alexander says, with an offended sniff. He narrows his eyes at her. "And unless you suddenly leap at me and try to hug me, no. I'm not gonna lose it, and I'm not inside your mind. I can't..." he sighs. "It's not telepathy. I can't just root around in your head for information you don't wanna share, Isi. If you were projecting high degrees of anger or pain or fear, then I could pick up on those, and they might affect me badly. But mostly I have a handle on it."

Mostly. Abruptly, he swings back to something she said before. "You don't have to be proud of needing help. But you don't have to be ashamed of it, either. Or of providing help to people who need it."

"That isn't happening." Isi can reassure him. Hugs aren't quite her style, though she's not like Ravn or Alexander with a ~reason~. She's just not a touchy-feely person when sober.... and when she's drunk she tends more towards belligerence. (Wow, her personality doesn't change much, does it?)

But if he's going to feel anger, it's lash out then as he says that about help. "You don't fucking know anything. There's nothing worse than admitting you can't do your own shit." And she's going to shut up right there and bite her lip while doing some breathing. Calmer, "I'd rather be poor as fuck than take a handout."

"Good," Alexander says, with palpable relief. "I know a lot of touchy people." Then he visibly flinches as she goes off. But he doesn't fold, completely. He stares fixedly at a point near the door, shoulders hunched, and says, "There are worse things. It's okay to need help. But it feels better to do things on your own." A pause. "Why do you hate it so much? Do you think less of your aunts for needing help?"

Seeing him flich has her scowl even more deeply. It's easier to talk when they're not looking at one another - so that's how she'll keep it. It's guilt now that has her answering truthfully. "If you rely on help it gives someone else power over you. No one should have that. I'd be an asshole to do it but it wouldn't be unreasonable to ask my aunt to cut back on something - or change shit about her life after taking money. It's an obligation - a tie."

With that finishes she tacks on a, "Sorry." For the outburst.

Alexander thinks about it, then nods. "I can understand that. That's why I hate it when people thank me. Or say they're grateful." He makes it sound like a curse word in his mouth. "I don't like gratitude. I don't want to have that power over people. I just want them not to hurt as much." He does sneak a look at her at the sorry. "You don't have to say sorry. I'm being nosy." But then, like that bit of self-awareness doesn't matter a single bit, he asks, "Would you? Tell your aunt to change something just because you gave her money?"

"I promise to never thank you again." Isi says, that's an easy promise. She can do that. Saying thank you is awkward and uncomfortable. NEVER AGAIN.

Isi leans her back against the wall next to her doorway, balancing on one foot while tapping on the floor with the toe of her other. "I don't know. What if it would be better if I asked for changes? Especially for the kids?"

"Good," Alexander says, sincerely. Fingers fret against the sleeves of his coat while he studies her. "What if it would?" He tosses the question back at her, quite seriously, watching her face. "What would you ask them to change?"

"To leave." Isi says, shame settling on those words. "The reservation. Things aren't going to change - what if it'd be better to just... give up?"

"Sometimes giving up is the right choice," Alexander says, slowly. "But there are also things worth keeping. I can't say what those things are, for people. But I left Gray Harbor. Didn't work out, in the end. This place is a reality-bending shithole. But not everything here is bad. Not everyone here is bad. I guess it matters enough to me to stay, those things that aren't bad." He shrugs. "Maybe your aunts feel the same way about the reservation. That they'd lose more, in the end, going. But I can see why you'd want them to. I tell people to leave all the time. Nobody ever listens."

"Maybe." Isi says, but her voice is quiet and there's no much conviction in it. A hand comes up and she tucks her hair behind her back.

"Whatever. Whatever." The words said as if she's trying to convince herself of it. "What do people do here in the winter - outside?"

Alexander lets it drop. Home is complicated, and his expression is sympathetic. Her question draws a soft laugh. "Uh. I don't hang out much with people. But I think there's ice skating on the pond, when idiot teenagers aren't trying to drown themselves in it. Some of the trails are still walkable, and when they're not, there's still the park. But I tend to spend a lot of time indoors, drinking hot cocoa and playing Nintendo. In between cases, when I get them." A pause. "What do you like to do in the winter?"

"... I'd go crazy in seconds." Note, there's nothing even slightly resembling a video game in Isi's apartment. There's a TV! and a laptop! But gaming.... nope. "I always hated winter, it got too cold to go outside for long, then go inside and wonder if the heating worked? Or if we'd paid the bill?" A shake of her head.

"I'll take freezing over being trapped....... Do you work much?" The question popping out between thoughts.

"Ice skating, then," Alexander says, with a nod. "Or ask a local friend to go hiking with you. Local will know the trails that don't get fucked by the snow so badly. I don't mind. If you ever wanna go. I walk everywhere anyway." He hesitates at the question. "...more now. Used to not get any jobs except things that nobody else could take. If someone wanted something serious, they'd go to the real private detectives. But more, these days. A lot of it's stupid shit. Checking to see if people really injured themselves, cheating spouses. Boring. But pays a decent amount. Some of it's just weird. Some of it's interesting."

"Friend," Isi's starts to scoff when he offers himself up as that walking partner. Eyebrow arched upwards and there's a questions of why that lingers unsaid. "I'll... okay."

Confusion as she shakes her head. "So now they know you. And they hire you. That's not a bad way to make a living."

Alexander hunches his shoulders, feeling the scoff coming. Even once she says okay, he's quick to say, soft but defensive, "You can ask someone else. It doesn't have to be me. Even Ravn's been around long enough to know some of the paths pretty well." He tugs at his sleeves. "No. They always knew me. But there was someone Over There. The Revisionist. She changed things in the town. Changed how people 'knew' things. Made people 'know' that I was a good detective. Made people 'know' that Ravn had illegal lobster fights on his boat. Weird shit like that. It wasn't anything I did. I was always a good detective." There's a hint of resentment in this explanation, a hatred of the fact that someone else had to intervene for people to recognize his ability in this area.

"RAvn...." She trails off slowly at mentioning him, her toe tapping again, this time with agitation. "He's got his own shit to deal with. No need to drag him off into what this town will probably fuck up." Even ~knowing~ that though, Isi's still itching to go outside.

"So she was good. Or something. The veil is fucking confusing."

Alexander eyes Isi. "Mm." It's a suspiciously noncommittal noise from a guy who comments on just about everything. But he shrugs. "That's fine. Uh. You know about Kelly's Gym, right? If you want to get some of that energy out. And learn to punch things. Which is a useful skill. It's inside, so you won't freeze to death like you seem to prefer. But it's still pretty drafty." Is he teasing her? There's a hint of a smile around his mouth that suggests yes, although his tone remains sour.

"She didn't mean to cause harm. Just had an idea that everyone wanted a more exciting life. Bruised some people by having everyone believe they'd had dramatic break ups, or were Russian spies, or were dead. It wasn't ill meant. But she didn't think like a human anymore, I think. None of them do."

A perk of interest from that, drawing her eyes up from the floor to fix on him. "Kelly's Gym?" She runs her fingers over the knuckles poking out from her cast thoughtfully. "Yeah...."

But they're on to other topics. She'll soak up what he says about the person in the Veil, even if it makes the hairs on the back of her head perk right up. "At least you got something out of it, I guess."

Alexander nods. "Yeah. It's just down the street. Joseph Kelly...uh." He has a long sort of pause. "He runs it. But it's okay to practice at. And nobody's gonna give you any shit there, not for any reason, unless you piss off Kelly somehow. Which is surprisingly hard to do. If you wanna learn to punch, or take a punch, it's a good place to do that." To the rest, he shrugs. "I guess. I wonder if she had anything to do with the missing time. But I can't...travel over there, myself. You need to be a strong mover. Perdita probably can."

More thoughtful rubbing as Isi considers the idea of the gym. "I'm not some masochist who likes cold," belatedly responding to that tease. "I don't like the cold at all. I just don't like the staleness more."

"Why would someone... willingly go? Like, if the shit that gets through here is any indication..." She tails off shaking her head.

Alexander snorts. "I ask myself that a lot. But people like Itzhak and August are drawn to it. And it's not all evil. Some of it is just strange." His hands flap in the air, making vague gestures. "We had to go to the part of City Hall that is in the Veil a few times so that we could get information about a ghost. And things. There are people over there who...try? to be helpful. But they're not human anymore. They don't think about things the same way. Straight answers can be hard. But there are beautiful things over there, too. Outside of Dreams, you can find unicorns. And things. I helped some people rescue little octopi with hats once."

These are names that Isi does not know, though one of them is familiar from any repetitions from Ravn's lips. "You all are like a little group." That will come out of nowhere. A sensible person would be talking about the octopi with hats. "The... shiny group or something."

Alexander shrugs. "I...guess. Maybe we used to be. For a little bit. I fucked part of it up, and other people have other things to think about, these days. August's gonna be a dad. Itzhak has Javier. I don't even know what's going on with Byron...he probably got married and got out of here. He's smart. Originally, people just wanted to stop the weird fucking murders that were going on, maybe find out why things were happening the way they were." He ducks his head. "But all of that got resolved, mostly. And people went back to doing what they do. Which is good. But we're not a group anymore."

Well this is an uncomfortable silence that is just going to stretch out for a while between them, with only the spitting of the rain outside breaking it. Isi isn't quite sure what to say after that because it just seems so.... sad.

Clearing her throat - "I wouldn't mind seeing the gym. To get out. But not fuck up your time completely with a full hike or shit." When in doubt, swear.

Alexander either doesn't notice the awkwardness of the silence, or he has no idea how to break it. He looks relieved when she clears her throat and moves on, though, so proooobably the latter. He rises to his feet with a jerk. "Uh, yes. Now? Or...not now, probably. But soon. So you know where it is. And I have a lot of time. And I walk a lot." He flashes a quick grin. "So. Whatever." Then he nods at the window film. "Do you have any idea how to put those on? If not, I'll show you how. They won't work, because you keep your fucking door open. But they should get used."

AWKWARDNESS AVERTED

Kind of.

"Actually - I wouldn't say no to now. I was just pacing before." There's a flick of her eyes towards the window clings - "If it takes more than one arm they're shit out of luck for another week till I get my cast changed to a brace for the last of the healing." Her "Fuck you Emil" cast is pulled away from her chest for display.

"Oh. Okay." Alexander gives Isi's arm a long look. "You won't be able to practice with a broken arm. But we can see where it is, and let you decide if you want to go there again." His eyes drift back down to Isi's cast. "People sign those. Don't they? Has no one signed yours?"

"Oh - you're funny." That's sarcasm. See if Alexander picks up on that. "Yeah, all my friends signed it. It was a big party. Everyone passed around a sharpie of invisible ink."

Shaking her head she steps, in a bit of a circle, keeping that distance in place, towards her room. "Let me change. " Not waiting for permission as she steps into her room and closes the door firmly behind her.

"I'm not, usually," Alexander responds, frowning slightly. Then he blinks. "Oh. Sarcasm. I didn't mean--I just meant, I would--" And then she's moving around him towards her room and he skitters out of her way, cutting off whatever he was going to say. When she's gone, he...roams. Staying clear of the door of the bedroom, but pacing around the living room, inspecting things, reading any correspondence left carelessly out, being generally nosy.

He'll learn a bit as Isi changes for go-outside time.

Isi is NOT a cook. She's got a bunch of premade meals in her half fridge. Things that can be popped into the microwave and cooked. In the trash are eating-out boxes. She's clean enough though, the trash has been corralled into the proper receptacles and there aren't ~any~ crumbs out. (Because this place has bugs and mice, of COURSE it has bugs and mice.) There are the novelty magnets out, one feather adorned and looking fairly old - perhaps a childhood gift. Definitely of native design and make, the real kind and not what you find in the tourist traps.

There's a computer, that doesn't have a password, but is off, lays half under the sofa. Oh, and a diary over there.

All in all, Isi's pretty normal.

She comes out wearing jeans and a long sleeved shirt and she can wear over her cast, as well as her coat that don't zip up over her cast. "Ravn and Dita - they're probably the only people I'd ask to sign my cast. But Ravn has his... thing, and I'm too nervous to ask Dita," Realizing a few words too late she corrects, "Perdita."

Alexander apparently has SOME sense of boundaries, even if they're weird and probably wrong; he doesn't touch her diary, beyond confirming that's what it is, nor does he give the computer more than a passing, curious look. The magnets are studied with interest, and most of the rest appears to just be catalogued. Like there's a file in his head that's just filling up with notes. "You should ask them," Alexander says, quietly. He tries not to grimace at 'Dita', but doesn't quite make it. When he says her name, it's noticeably emphasized. "Perdita would say yes. Ravn would say yes, too. I don't think his neuropathy would act up signing a cast. And they're your friends. They would enjoy signing it." He makes his way towards the door, opening it enough to slip outside and give the area a quick once over. "Ready?"

Hopefully, she is, because he just starts walking.

It's a good thing Isi isn't a murderer or such or she probably wouldn't have that privacy.

But good on Alexander for having boundaries. "If he can't then I'm the asshole for asking." Isi returns for Ravn maybe not reacting.

"Do you always do that?" She asks, stepping out after him. "The check?" There's no scorn in the question - just honest curiosity.

Alexander pauses to give Isi a puzzled look back. "Why? If you don't know if someone can or will eat a cupcake, and you offer them a cupcake, you're not an asshole if they say no. Not unless you're an asshole about it if they do." He nods to the question. "Elm isn't always safe," he mutters. "And a lot of people here don't like me very much. It's better to keep an eye out. You're probably fine. But situational awareness isn't a bad idea." He starts walking again.

That's a cheerfully paranoid way of looking at things. Isi will just walk a little bit further to one side and behind Alexander. Giving people the idea that she's friends with someone they don't like is a bad idea.

"But if I know it might cause them harm and I do it? Well," a little honest seed of truth weeds up in there, "Unless they're assholes who deserve that shit - if it might hurt them then I generally shouldn't. RAvn's been nice when I haven't given him much of a reason to be lately."

Alexander continues to talk to the empty space beside him, like he doesn't even notice Isi having distanced herself. "I'd say that Ravn is an adult, and unless you're grabbing his hand and forcing him to sign, you're fine. But it's not for me to say. I don't really know him that well. He is nice, though." He seems to be smiling; the amusement is in his voice as they crunch through the frosty, ice-coated grass. "Did you yell at him? What did you yell at him about?"

"I snapped at him." Isi says, though Alexander is probably familiar enough with that for Isi not to have to say more. "He didn't deserve it."

And this is where she lapses into silence. If they keep their course brisk enough that some of the strain that's been held between her shoulders bleeds off. There's just something about being outside, especially with the cold keeping down any Elm specific stink.

Alexander nods. "It happens. You should apologize." Other than that, he seems content to walk in silence, skirting some houses while seeming fine with walking near others. Despite his general nosiness, he doesn't pause to peer into windows. Maybe he doesn't have to. He crosses a few blocks, then points down to a building. "That's where we're going. Kelly's Gym." As they get closer, it's clear that it's a very...no frills sort of building. A sturdy structure, the main door open - maybe someone else likes fresh air, especially with workout stink hanging out inside. He doesn't hesitate to go in, although he pauses just inside, scanning the interior. There are a few people here lifting weights or working the bags; mostly men, a smattering of working class and rough sorts, although everyone keeps to themselves with a kind of determined air. I didn't see nothing is the order of the day, right now.

Alexander looks somewhat relieved, and somewhat disappointed not to see whoever he was clearly looking for.

"Yeah." No acknowledgement on if she actually has or hasn't apologized. The pointing has Isi coming up closer to his side to get a good look at the destination and she stays only an arms length away as they enter. Despite the 'keep to themselves' attitude Isi bristles just a little when they are inside.

"Looking for someone?" The obvious question as she does her own examination of the different items for exercise.

"Yeah," Alexander says, quietly. "Couple of people. But they're not here right now." Again, he seems torn between being glum and being relieved. He points to the check in desk. "You can pay there. It's very reasonable. There are weights, bags...Kelly mostly teaches boxing, so that's what a lot of stuff is geared for, but there are a few other things, too. It's nothing fancy, but," a glance at her bristle, "nobody will harass you here. Kelly wouldn't stand for it. He does, uh, free self defense classes, sometimes, for women. They seem popular."

Isi drifts towards the desk pointed out, but keeps her eyes moving - she's still scoping the place out. "I don't want someone to go easy on me just because I know shit." It's some nice self-defense aggression. On the desk she looks till she finds a printed schedule for people to take and takes one. The person behind the desk gets a terse almost-smile.

"No one here will go easy on you," Alexander says, dryly. "Kelly isn't cruel; he doesn't get off on beating people down. But he also won't hesitate to tell you what you're fucking up, and then show you in a way you'll remember. Everyone here follows his lead," he says, and there's a careful way that he says it. "I usually work out on the bags, unless someone wants to spar." He points to the ring. "I don't do weights much. I don't really see the point in lifting something just to lift it."

"Well. That I can live with." Isi says, folding that paper over on itself before stuffing it into her pocket to examine latter.

"I probably won't come back till," bum arm wiggled, "but maybe... it could be something. At least it's out." Her eyes ares till roaming about the gym. "This was kind of you." See, it's not thank you.

"Not really," Alexander says with the lift of a shoulder. "You were restless. If I didn't point you at some place, you'd probably just wander off and get frozen to death. It would be irritating," he adds, with another of those little sniffs. He turns, clearly planning to turn around and leave. "I can walk you back to your place. You should be able to find the way pretty easy after that?"

"Yeah," Isi replies, looking over the gym once more before giving it a small nod of her head. "Yeah," what that second one is for is for Isi to know as she turns to head back out. She's quiet as they walk - her thoughts staying nice and settled between her eyes.

Those poor window clings. Unless Alexander remembers they're just going to sit and be useless on the ground, instead of her windows.

Don't worry. In about a week or so, Alexander will wander by, notice that they haven't been put up yet, and probably scare her out of her wits starting to do unauthorized window repairs. But for now, he seems content to leave them there, whether he's forgotten them or just wants to give her a chance to do it for herself. He walks her to her door, says the single, terse command, "Don't die," and then walks off, heading back to his place without another word or a look back.