2022-01-01 - Hair of the Dog

So, the hair of the dog for a busy New Year's Eve turns out to be Irish coffee on the deck of the Twofer. Like the fresh breeze off the harbor will blow the cobwebs away, and the caffeine in his coffee will wake him up. There's a fire blazing merrily away in the firepit, and the sailor's got a cigarette smoldering forgotten between the first two fingers of his left hand. Joe looks lazily content, where he's slouched down, soles of his boots stretched out towards the fire. Bundled up, down to the fingerless gloves that match the ocean-blue shading of his tattoos.

Onto the patio steps a tall man with a camera case draped over one shoulder. Ellery's currently trying to slurp the whipped cream off an Irish coffee, which is a silly thing to do while walking. He trips over the doorway and gets a nose full of whipped cream. "Ah, shit," he murmurs as a bit of boozy coffee dribbles down his chin. He reaches up to paw off the whipped cream, and in the process, spots Joe. "Oh good. For a moment I thought my toddler-like ability to drink a hot beverage wouldn't be witnessed by anyone at all," he drawls.

Joe looks up from his contemplation of the water and grins. He does not exactly look as fresh as a daisy, shall we say, but nor does he have the pained look of a man seriously thinking about crawling back into the dark cave of his bedroom and hibernating the hangover away. "It'll getcha every time," he agrees, digging into his coat pocket and coming up with a whole fistful of napkins. Apparently he's endured that assault on his own dignity before. "Good taste, at least," he adds.

"I didn't go too hard last night, but hard enough to want a little of the ole hair of the dog. Thanks," says Ellery as he accepts a napkin from Joe. He swabs his face and hands and sets his camera bag and the cup down on the table. "Also I wanted a coffee and a lot of coffee shops are closed. So hey, two for one at the Twofer. That's what people call it, right?"

His grin turns rueful, as he sets down his cup and takes a deep drag off his cigarette. The smoke from it is sweetly spiced. "Same here," the sailor says, mildly. "Like, I don't know why I can't remember that I'm no longer a twenty five year old hotshot with a liver made of iron and a metabolism like a reactor, but I sure do tend to forget when I get into certain situations with alcohol." He glances at the camera bag. "You a photographer?"

Whoever's stuck running the show up at the precinct this morning, it's sure as hell not de la Vega. The cop shoulders his way into the Twofer, sporting a baseball cap, threadbare black hoodie and dark, snug jeans. And what looks like work boots, like maybe he's been busy with his hands out in this weather.

He bypasses the bar, with a tipped off salute to his temple for the 'tender, and moseys on out to the deck while digging for his pack of cloves.

Ellery chuckles, "Well, if there's ever a time to forget about it, it's New Year's Eve, right?" Ellery settles himself into the chair, knocking the table and nearly spilling his Irish coffee again. It's easy to become a wrecking ball when you're 6'4" and a bit clumsy. And hungover. "Ah, yip. Photojournalist, actually. But I do other kinds of photography to keep the money rolling in."

It's cold as hell outside and Vittoria would much rather spend this dark, foggy day inside with plentiful amounts of alcohol. The tall, muscular woman hurries into the bar with a huff, clad in a slim-fitting white flannel and dark wash jeans under a long black overcoat. Her long brown hair swirls around her, free and unbound around her shoulders.

The occupants of the bar get a quick, sharply assessing look before she smirks and makes her way over towards the two men on the deck. "Is this seat taken?" she asks, gesturing at an unoccupied chair. Her accent is definitely European: a little sing-songy, with each syllable pronounced clearly and deliberately.

Javier's appearance has Joe lifting up the recently lit cigarette. A clove, by the scent of it, like he anticipated the cop's appearance. "Hey, baby," he says, turning a positively doe-eyed look on the younger man, before glancing back to Ellery. Sheepishly, he confesses, "Ah, I know I've met you before, but it's been a while, and your name's escaped me. Joe Cavanaugh....and have you met Javier de la Vega?"

The unfamiliar woman chatting up the pair at the firepit earns a curious glance from the approaching Mexican. But he's not in the habit of being particularly socially engaging, so the pleasantries are left to the other two. And he simply sprawls into the seat next to Joe. "Who's your friend?" he asks the older blond with the Southern accent, while he lights up his clove. His own is a mishmash of Tijuana gutter rat and East LA. "And since when did you start smoking those things? You getting into my stash?"

"S'okay. I don't remember if we exchanged names or not. Ellery Briar," says the photojournalist. He shifts in the chair, careful not to jostle the table again. His Irish coffee has already had too many close calls. "And I don't think so. Hey there," he sort of does a two-finger salute from his forehead down in Ruiz' direction. His own accent is well, it's localish. But there are a few peculiarities that suggests a slight geolocation shift and also a bit of a country twang that doesn't seem to belong to the US. He looks up to Vittoria and nods, "Sure, more the merrier. Cold air helps with the foggy-headedness that it seems like most've us are fighting today."

Vittoria's approach has Joe sitting up from his comfortable slouch in one of the deck chairs, smiling at her. "No, ma'am," he says, amiably. "C'mon over and sit down. We're just indulging in a little hair of the dog after New Year's Eve." He's comfortably bundled up in a heavy gray greatcoat, white silk scarf, and fingerless gloves in ocean blue; the only ink on display is his knuckle tattoos. For once, no hat - his hair's long enough to spill past his collar, now. "I'm Joe Cavanaugh, this is Javier de la Vega, and Ellery Briar."

Ruiz's questions have him looking positively impish, the lines around his eyes deepening as he grins. "I've liked 'em for years, baby. Used to smoke 'em in college. I shouldn't smoke anything, but I figure, hell, it's the holidays." He rummages in his coat pocket, and comes up with a pack that can only be Marlboros, but the familiar chevron design is a deep wine red and black. "Ordered these things online," he says, offering the pack to the Mexican. "Give 'em a try."

But it's Ellery he settles on again. "Photojournalism," he says, sounding impressed. "Got any particular subjects you particularly favor? Freelance, or'd you work for a specific publication?" Joe's apparently in his 'people person' mode.

Javier still looks dubious at the origin of the cloves, but there's no more argument from him. He studies the pack briefly, then shakes his head to decline, easing back with his own cigarette. "Encantado de conocerte," he murmurs to Ellery, dark eyes sweeping the man in a thoughtful once-over. He'll not interrupt their conversation though, for now.

Ellery is wearing one of those lined windbreakers common to TV crewmembers. He does it up a little tighter as the wind shifts and brings a chill the fire can't totally keep at bay. He slurps from his boozy coffee, still getting a little whipped cream on his face, but that's rather unavoidable. "Freelance," he says in answer to Joe. "Sometimes I'll get a call from a station or an outlet who knows I'm on the ground in the region and ask me to do some pickups. I did some shots of the storm rolling in, for instance. But sometimes I'll just go and shoot some stock photos to put up on various image banks. On the side that doesn't pay very well, I like portraiture." He shrugs. "Though I haaaate shooting weddings. Too much pressure. I'll still do 'em if I'm hard-up but I try not to get to that point."

He looks over at Ruiz and smiles a little dopily, "Sorry, man. No Spanish in my vocabulary. If you said that in French, I might have a chance of understanding you."

"I mean, I only stole one of yours," Joe concedes, like that dubious glance was enough to shame him into a true confession. "And then I gave in and ordered some of my own." He punctuates it with a sheepish look, like a dog discovered rummaging in the garbage.

Ellery's lament about weddings makes him chuckle. "I bet," he says. "I can't imagine being part of any aspect of the wedding business. It's ballooned over the past decades, and you could buy a house for the cost of some of the ones I've seen. I've got a lot of cousins - Irish Catholic family - and one of 'em went full Bridezilla, just about. I think it was the caterers she really lost her mind on, rather'n the photographer. I had to learn to shoot decent photos in my old job, but that was mostly landscape, rather'n human portraiture."

The cop scoffs quietly, and settles in to enjoy his clove while the other two chit-chat. It's not his forte, this social dance. And he seems disinclined to even pretend, today.

"The photographer usually doesn't get it the day of the wedding. But hoo boy, if those photos don't turn out perfectly," Ellery lets out a low whistle and shakes his head. "Engagement photos can be nice, though. People are usually more chill, and if those don't come off perfectly, there's a chance for a redo. But the wedding is a one-shot deal." He wraps one hand around the mug of his quickly cooling boozy drink. "How about you? Guessing something outdoorsy?"

There's a beat where Joe hesitates, tapping ash with a little flick of his fingertip, and his smile is almost uncertain. "Sort of," he says, slowly. "I'm retired, now. But I was in the Navy for more'n twentyfive years....and the last fifteen or so, I was stationed in Houston, working for NASA. Astronauts have to be able to take good photos for the PR part of the job. Some of 'em have been good enough at it to have collections of their pictures published. I wasn't, myself."

Ellery lets out the second low whistle in as many minutes. He shifts forward. "No shit? That's fuckin' cool, man. I loved watching Chris Hadfield's stuff when he was up on the ISS. And heh," he hitches a shoulder, "I suppose outer space is as outside as it gets."

He takes a long drag from his cigarette, blows the smoke politely downwind, and says, "Yeah. Three launches. I came in back in the Shuttle era, flew on Atlantis both times. Last one was out of Kazakhstan on a Russian Soyuz. Hadfield is really one of the masters of interacting with the public on behalf of human spaceflight. A very talented man." He nods. "Where can I find your work? I'd like to see it."

"Yeah, he does his country proud," says Ellery with a bit of the glimmer of someone talking about a childhood hero. "I've been to Kasakhstan. Not to go to outer space, of course. I did some work for the Canadian Press and spent about a year bouncing around conflict zones or conflict zone-adjacent." He shifts when Joe asks about his work, then withdraws his wallet and finds a business card. He hands it over. It's got his name, phone, email, and a website. "Site's set up for freelance photojournalism work, but there's a gallery on there with my arthouse sorta stuff."

That makes Joe laugh. "I was about to ask if you're Canadian. Every Canadian I've ever met has gotten that look when I mention Hadfield. He really is that nice in person, too. I never got to work really closely with him, I was never part of any of his crews."

He leans over to take the card, turns it over, and then pulls out a worn little wallet to tuck it away. "That's wild. Conflict journalism - that's about as hard as it gets. Kazakhstan's bleak as hell, though I was glad to be able to take part in a launch there. They're still usin' the same pad they did when they sent Gagarin up, though I think it's finally scheduled to be decommissioned."

Gabriella walks up to the outside with her head down to brace against the wind and cold. There is a smile as she sees the firepit and immediately heads over there. "Joe.." She offers lightly towards the clove man as she finds a seat to drop into with a brilliant smile.

Ellery chuckles and shrugs, "Yeah, guilty. I mean, not often someone's famous for being Canadian, y'know? Most famous Canadians sorta fly under the radar and aren't living in the country by the time they hit it really big." He swallows what's left in his mug, where clearly most of the whiskey has settled. He coughs a little. "And yeah, it's rough. Especially since being a journalist puts a target in your back in some of these countries. Specially if you're a western journalist. I really respect the hell out of people who make it a career. I couldn't. I lasted...close to two years? But only about a year of that was in and out of hot zones. But what kinda...stopped me down that career path was Bosnia. We were shooting a documentary about the Siege of Sarajevo." He looks like he might go on to elaborate, but then there's a new arrival. He looks up and nods in greeting to Gabriella.

"You'll never hear a word from me arguin' that he doesn't deserve it," Joe says, raising the hand with the cigarette in it, in a "scout's honor" gesture. That cough makes him swirl his own cup a little, lest he end up in the same case.

But the smile fades, as Ellery goes on. "It didn't used to be like that, so much. Time was that journalists were viewed as neutral, not the enemy. I met some combat journalists while I was in the Navy...." He's silent for a moment, and says, "I was part of US operations in Bosnia. But I was....fortunate to only be flying off a carrier, not down on the ground. There's a man here in town who's an Army vet from that, August Roen...."

Gabriella's appearance has him forcibly diverted from what looks to be the start of an unpleasant reverie. "Oh, hi," he says, blinking a little. "Gabriella, have you met Ellery? This is Ellery Briar, a photographer. Ellery, this is Gabriella..." He trails off, and admits, shamefaced, "Whose surname I can't remember, sorry."

"Joe.. I thought we were best friends. I thought we were going to spend this next year vacationing together. You were going to teach me to sail and now you are syaing you can't remember my surname?" Gabriella sounds so scandalized. So sad. So upset. It's so fake. She puts a hand over her heart as if it has shattered.

"I'm not sure if I will be able to recover from this." Her blonde hair is tossed behind her for a moment as she looks low and to the side. "If only something would make me feel better. Something free. Something cold. Maybe something to drink..." She peeks over at Joseph to see if he's falling for any of it, or just wants her to shut up.

"Leigh. Gabriella Leigh." This is supplied to Ellery and her lips curve up more. "Photographer? Oh! I dabble. I am not a photographer, but maybe we should you know, go take photos or if you need like an assistant. I'd be happy to assist."

Having had to take a phone call from the duty officer at the precinct, Javier had gotten up and moseyed away a few paces, so as not to disturb his companions. Call concluded, he shoves his phone back into his jeans pocket, and ambles back over. Only to find another, familiar face seated near the two men.

He clears his throat, and goes to drop back into his chair next to Joe. Just in time to catch wind of talk about Afghanistan. Grimacing a little, he goes for a pull of his clove, and nods a hello to Gabriella.

"Yeah, my uncle was with the Princess Pat's Light Infantry. Tank commander. It's what got me interested in the documentary to begin with and why I took the assignment. But..." Ellery shifts a bit awkwardly, "I saw some weird things there. Same kinda weird things I've seen here." He's new enough to the whole Veil thing that he doesn't know how openly he can talk about it without being labelled a crazy person.

He looks over at Gabriella, eyebrows quirked. "Well I do think the young lady's angling for a free drink, if I'm decoding things correctly." He grins at her and then says, "I think you'd have to fight my roommate for that position. He's been my gear monkey since we came here. And he only complains about it a little."

By his dry expression, and the way one brow goes up, Joe is not taken in. "I know it's a blow," he deadpans. "But I'm sure you'll recover. And if you want cold and free, well, I'm sure if you wander in and make with the big puppy eyes at the bartender, he'll let you have a cup of ice. Might even get you a Coke."

The idea of finding a thin part of the Veil in Bosnia has him lowering the hand he was raising to take another drag. "You saw that stuff over there? Dear God, I don't even want to think about it. I didn't start to shine until I was out of the military, for which I am eternally grateful. I'd'a lost my damn mind if I'd seen something like that in Afghanistan." He directs a little smile at Ruiz, but goes on, with a nod at the cop, "He saved my life in Afghanistan, but all we had to fight was Taliban. Never thought I'd call that 'lucky' but you're makin' me realize it was."

Gabriella smiles vibrantly at Javier when he comes and immediately looks to see if he has a drink in his hand. She's not above petty theft. Although her eyes slide over towards Joe instead. Her lips quirking just a bit. "I don't think I shall ever recover. It is so horrid." But then they are talking about the thin Veil in warzones. That causes her lips to relase the smile upon her features.

A breath pulled into her lungs. "Wait.." She looks around at all of them for a few moments of thought. "Aren't you born with the shine? Like.. you don't all see it your whole lives?" Although her eyes slide over towards Ellery. "I mean.. if you wanted to buy me a nice cold... alcholic... drink, I wouldn't say no. You know, to take the edge off of that rejection."

Javier does not have a drink in his hand. Just a funny smelling clove, which he's presently divesting of some ash with his thumb. He sort of tries to return the offered smile, but it's brief and smothered a moment later by him dragging off his smoke.

"You should talk to Roen about it," he advises, when Bosnia's mentioned. "I know he, uh. He's got some stories to tell about that, too." Joe gets a chuckle, and a flick of dark eyes. "Insurgents were plenty." He glances back to Ellery, "This guy here's got a habit of getting himself stuck up trees."

"I was jet lagged to hell and went out for a walk before sunrise. Turned a corner and ended up in a Grimm's Fairytale nightmare. The bad energy just sort of...radiated. It was pretty intense. But it sort've inspired me, in a way? It reignited my childhood fascination with cryptids." Ellery's just sort of idly nudging at the empty mug that once contained Irish coffee.

He lifts an eyebrow at Gabriella. "You're persistent, aren't you? Sorry, in a bit of a budget crunch." Which is a diplomatic way of saying he's broke. "Roen, huh?" he says with an upnod to Ruiz. "Sounds like someone we might've interviewed for the documentary. Wonder if he felt any of what I felt over there." He doesn't answer the question about Glimmer. He's new to it, and not the best person to field it.

"You're tougher'n you look, you'll live. Just might be crippled a while," Joe advises Gabriella, lazily. He takes a last drag off his own clove, flicks the butt into the fire. "'sides, don't you have a real job? Can't you afford to buy a drink your ownself?" He doesn't sound annoyed - more amused than anything.

Which is not decreased by Javier's comment. "You make me sound like you found me up that tree like I was a lost kitten," he notes, but he's grinning. "Though to hear you tell it, I s'pose you did. I don't remember it. I remember seeing that wall comin' at me....and then next thing I knew I was on the ground with all these Marines lookin' down at me like I was a deer they hit on the road and they weren't sure if they'd have to put me down or not."

He picks up the glass of Irish coffee, takes a mouthful, and goes on, more seriously, "No, not necessarily. I mean, I'd guess the potential is always there, but being to actively perceive and use it....no. Mine only came awake few years back, and that after a bad head injury. I thought it was like it shook it loose."

Ellery's account makes his lips thin out, as he digs the pack of Marlboro kreteks out of his coat. "It is addictive," he says, more softly. "I mean, that world. I don't know of a lot of folks that successfully ran from it, long-term. Though I'm not from here, so what do I know?"

"Everyone just thought I was crazy. I mean that's not the medical terms they used. They would give me drugs, my mother would take them, sell them, use them." Gabriella shrugs. "It's why I went into psychology and didn't go for the medical side. I like to work with people through talk therapy and creating a coping plan. I am not at all anti-medications, just want to try other things.."

FINE. It's not said in her words, but in how she carries herself as she launches out of the chair. "I'll be right back." HEr eyes study the trio for a moment and she pauses by Javier and offers something low to him in Spanish. Then she smiles at the photographer. "If you want something, you should try for it until you don't want it anymore. Goals. Or as I like to say, hyperfocused. Normally on the wrong thing."

She does walk in the bar and she does start chatting up a poor unfortunate soul. There is a pout on her lips and she goes for straight adorable. Then the man's hand is up and ordering drinks. She has a few skills.

Javier's eyes crease up at the corners in a plethora of crow's feet when Joe makes the kitten analogy. He barks a laugh, ashes off his cigarette with a little shower of sparks and ash that sifts into the firepit. "Wasn't the first time we found ourselves a Navy boy stranded up a tree, será mejor que lo crea." Still amused, his dark eyes slide toward Gabriella when she murmurs to him. Then away again, with a flicker of tension in his jaw at what she tells Ellery. She's watched for a few paces as she departs, and then the cop's attention is on the water again. Little hard to gauge his expression, with the damned baseball cap casting funny shadows across his scruffy cheek.

"I come here, and then soon after, find I lost twelve weeks. And I've rented a shitty house instead of being in the motel we went to sleep in during the storm. Which makes me think something does want to keep us here." Ellery head-wobbles and shrugs. He too watches Gabriella go try her luck with someone else. It makes his lips curl up at the edges.

"Sounds like people in this town end up with overlapping history, even if they're not from here? Or are you two a unique case?" He looks between Ruiz and Joe.

"They thought I was crazy. I did some time in a mental ward, but that was after my suicide attempt," He's utterly casual about it, but then, they can't see the scars of it, with him under winter layers.

Joe taps a clove out of his pack, settles it at the corner of his mouth, and pats himself down to find his lighter. The little flame casts its light over the planes of his face, less kind than the fireglow. He watches her go, and wonders to the men remaining at the fire, "What's her deal with that? This is the twentyfirst century, why can't she just buy a real drink like a big girl?" A beat, as he gets the cigarette drawing, and then he asks Ruiz, baldly, "What'd she say?"

The look he gives Ruiz is warm. "Fair enough, I know, I'm still a princess who does need rescuing and coddling." Though he hardly looks it.

There's a sympathetic nod for Ellery's recounting of lost time. "I woke up, found I'd written a book. Which kind of sucks, because the writing is the fun part, it left me with the editing to do. Yeah. So, there are these beings that feed off our distress. I've heard 'em called a lot of things, and I don't know how intelligent they are. But what they want is for those who shine to be miserable, and they'll do plenty to bring it about. Including those incidents where you end up with reality bent real funny."

Gabriella is still in there talking to the guy because well, it gives time to answer questions about her without her being there for it. She is leaning on the bar with a beer bottle now though. She'll be out on the next one.

"Nothing important," Javier replies, low-voiced, with that scratchiness that comes from too many cigarettes, and too much alcohol, and far, far too many drugs abused in his nearly fifty years. With a sharp sniff, he checks his watch and leans forward to put out his clove. "I think I'm going to head out, though. You both have a nice night."

And maybe, if Ellery happens to have glanced away at that precise moment, Joe'll be favoured with the cop's fingers briefly tangled into his hair, and a quick kiss bestowed to his cheek. "Nice to meet you," he murmurs to Ellery, then eases upright and starts ambling back inside.

"I kinda respect the hustle," says Ellery as he watches Gabriella. That'll allow Joe and Ruiz their moment of privacy before his attention returns. "You too. Have a good one, and Happy New Year."

His lips purse into a thin line at the comment from Joe about reality bending in on itself. "It's weird how that can make you feel special and preyed upon at the same time, huh?"

"I'll see you tomorrow night, baby," Must not be his turn to have custody of the cop. "Say hi to Itz for me," The kiss makes him beam for a moment. No shyness at all about PDA - he looks almost proud.

But then that glow fades, and Joe says, "Yeah, it sure is. It's like....somehow it manages to not be as horrifying as it might be." He takes another lazy drag, blows a smoke ring, and continues, "It's like that line from that old Star Trek episode: it's wondrous, with treasures to satiate desires both subtle and gross; but it's not for the timid."

Gabriella swings out as Javier is leaving. Her brows lift to that as she offers a smile. "¿Es algo que dije? ¿Vas a traerme un trago, Javi?" There is a tease to her eyes but then she's coming back and taking Ruiz' seat. Mainly as his body heat still exists in it and thus it's warmer. She's use to warmer states. She doesn't exactly interrupt just yet. Perhaps she's pondering heading out too.

"Nada de lo que dijiste," Javier murmurs in return, already digging out the keys to his truck. Presumably, if Joe needs a ride later he knows how to get in touch with his boyfriend. Briefly amused, he shakes his head at the second question from the little blonde. "Y no te voy a comprar bebidas. Hemos pasado por esto." He gives her something vaguely resembling a smile in farewell, then shoulders his way out.

"That makes it sound like there's an omnipotent being out there who might be judging us based on whether or not we have a psychic breakdown from having reality bent around us? If so, let's hope we're not found wanting." Yes, Ellery got Joe's reference, apparently without having to think too hard about it. He might look like something of a jock, but apparently there's a big old nerd under the linebacker's proportions. If he's bothered at all by the PDA, he doesn't show it. In fact, there's a little smile as he makes note of the familiarity between the two of them.

He upnods at Gabriella as she returns. "I see you got your drink." As someone who doesn't speak a word of Spanish, he's left to infer what the exchange was all about.

A rusty laugh from Joe, at that. "Not omnipotent, happily. Not that I know. Though there are things on the other side of the Veil that are sentient and malign and powerful. As well as plenty of creatures that are just fuckin' weird," Joe says, before reaching down to pick up a stick of firewood, add it carefully to the pit. He slants an amused look at Gabriella, at Ellery's comment.

"I tend to find things I'm looking for. If I wouldn't have found a person, I would have found cash. It's a strange... plus to being all shiny. The negative is it probably draws me more into their interest." Gabriella offers easily. There is a tip of her head. "Sorry about the Spanish. Not many people speak it that I know, so I always do with him. We were just bantering. I told him he should buy me a drink. He told me that he's already said no. I got him to buy me a chai latte for Christmas. So now I live in hope." Her eyes move between the others at the talk about world altering. "I'm still new to the Veil. I just sort of use the skills on survival instinct."

"The creature part is what gets my imagination pumping, I admit. Lifelong fascination with cryptids and other creatures that aren't already documented. I didn't necesarily think they were supernatural before, but, well, I do now," Ellery chuckles a bit roughly and scruffs at his hair.

He waves a hand at Gabriella, "No need to apologize. I realize a lot of Americans know at least some Spanish. Me, I learned French in school. And most of that didn't stick."

The sailor's expression goes grave, as he settles back down in his seat. "Using your abilities....the more you do it, the more you draw the interest of those things that feed on distress," he warns. "Even though it's tempting to, here." But he smiles at Ellery. "We should go exploring. There's one flavor of ability that lets you get through the Veil and back. I know a man who's very powerful in it, worth having with you. Guy named Itzhak Rosencrantz. We should do something more formal, really prep for it...." The idea of it clearly intrigues him.

"I'm still a bit.. lost on the creatures. Alexander and Ravn have given me some information on it." She offers towards Ellery. Then towards Joe there is a nod of her head. "I am a little.. backwards and right where I need to be. I have to learn how to stop using it instead of learning how to use it. I still have a lot to learn though." Her eyes move back towards Ellery with a smile. "We should practice. I know very little French, but I'm trying to learn more. I picked up some when I was living in New Orleans."

Ellery leans forward on his knees, towards Joe. "Go in it on purpose? Really? Shit," he chuckles, "I guess you're still an astronaut, huh? Or whatever you'd call an explorer who goes to...other realms?" He actually does look excited by the prospect, in the way of someone who willingly went into conflict zones armed with nothing more than a camera. "Do you know what I'd really like to do? Find some way of capturing the creatures on film. Even if it eventually fades or self-destructs. If it lingered at all, long enough for us to study footage or stills, we could learn a lot."

He looks to Gabriella, "I think I can do things? I sometimes can feel it. But I haven't really tried. Cause yeah, I heard it can be a bad idea."

He doesn't have any of the air of someone trying to prey in the ignorance of the inexperienced. Far from it. "Mostly they seem to be....reflections of this world and the animals in it? I met something that used to be a bear. Ravn's good people." What he thinks of Alexander Joe doesn't say.

He offers Ellery a funny little smile. "Of course," he says. "It's another world - who wouldn't want to go?" People with sense, for one. "I don't think even pictures taken there would work. Somehow the Veil protects itself. Worth a try, though." He pauses. "I wonder if drawn art would fare any better than digital media or film...."

Gabriella looks down at her phone and smiles a bit softly to something on it. "Well, it was good to meet you Ellery." She seems sincere in this. "We should catch up again. It seems I have to go meet up with a person." Then her eyes slide towards Joseph with a smiel. "Joe, see you around?" Then she moves to head out the way she came.

"Yeah, I heard it does. It's happened to me. I've had gaps in my memory card, with pictures just...gone. Or the pictures get all blurry in the way of cryptid photos the world over. Which, I gotta admit, is fascinating as hell. Whatever it is has to be really powerful in order for that to happen. Do you think our missing time was it protecting itself? Like something really big happened and we all can't remember?" Ellery's getting a bit more animated as he talks about reckless exploring.

He grins at Gabriella. "Nice to meet you. This town is small enough that I'm sure we'll run into each other again."

"You take care," Joe wishes her, with a little lift of his hand. "I'll see you 'round," he agrees. But he's nodding at Ellery. "I think exactly that. There was a storm coming, and when it came, it was like....things realigned. The Veil and its creatures and even our powers don't stay static. They change. I used to think I could map and quantify, you know - I'm an engineer by training. But that world....it's almost too fluid." There's an answering gleam in his face. Like the idea of a challenge that can never be conquered is fascinating.

"That's what's always fascinated me about cryptids. We can't prove they definitively exist, but there's enough evidence out there to say something is going on. Even if it's just someone involved in an elaborate hoax. And it's all the more tantalizing because creatures we did think were extinct turned out not to be. Or creatures from myth turned out to have a real connection. Or maybe..." Ellery shrugs, "...people are falling through this Veil into the domains of creatures. And because they don't actually exist in our realm, we can't bring back evidence." He waves a hand. "Who knows, right? But just cause we can't ever totally know, that doesn't mean it's not worth looking."

"Exactly," Joe approves. "Or maybe the creatures come through briefly, and go back. That'd explain so much. Places where something awful has happened seem to draw more of these incidents and sightings. Battlefields, disasters....I used to know a lady who investigated this stuff and she and her colleague spent time at Chernobyl," He shakes his head in what might be admiration.

"That'd explain why I had that experience in Bosnia," says Ellery with a bit of a haunted note to his words. "Before I had my experience, I'd been filming for days. Interviews with survivors of the Siege of Sarajevo. Trips to sites of atrocities. It was pretty heavy shit. And I hadn't been sleeping. Jet lag hung around longer than it had before. I couldn't shake it."

That gives Joe pause. "I wonder...when I started to be able to use the ability, it was after a wreck. I wonder in how many cases it was personal trauma that sparked someone's ability. Did you say that you....were you able to use any abilities or sense strange things before Bosnia?"

"I don't know, exactly. I mean, in retrospect, my being drawn to cryptids and spots where they were sighted could've been a sort of latent awareness that there was something weird going on. I was always certain that some of these creatures were real, even if I couldn't get them on camera and no one could find evidence," Ellery reaches out to sort of turn at the strap of his camera bag in an idle gesture. "But could I move pencils with my mind before Bosnia? No."

Whatever else Joe was about to say is interrupted by the chime of a text. IT takes him a moment of rummaging various pockets to find his phone....and then he sighs. "That's family," he says. "I gotta take it." A moment more of fishing produces a scrap of paper and pen, and he hastily scribbles name and number and email down, before proffering it. "But we gotta pursue this exploration thing. We'll be in touch, right?"

"I should be heading out too. I thought I'd take advantage of the streets being quiet to do some shooting. I really just meant to get a hit of caffeine," Ellery looks at his watch, then reaches for his camera bag. He stops and takes the scrap from Joe. He shakes it. "Absolutely. My friend might be up for it too. He's come here looking for answers as well."