2022-01-03 - Was it just me or was that judge strange?

Outside the courthouse goes Shawn and Alexander after that interesting courtroom drama. "So... that Chief de la Vega character? He always so quiet? And The ADA, she's your classic blond monster, right?"

He's undone his tie and taken off his coat. There is much airing out of the sweat to be done.

Alexander follows Shawn, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt. He may not have worn a tie, but he still breathes a sigh of relief when his neck can properly breathe again. "Mm? Yeah. Javier doesn't really like to talk much. He's more a physical sort of person." He looks left and right, like he's looking for ambushers. "I don't know Bennet well. She doesn't stand out, so I'm pretty sure she just thinks I'm a lunatic. Occasionally useful, but not...someone you talk to." He shrugs. "I'm sure she has...friends. And things. But I really only see her when she's that." He kicks a stone with his nice, polished shoes. "And she better get back my phone. I need that."

"I'll get you a new one if you need it," Shawn says absently, flicking though his own phone before passing it over to Alexander. It's another very blurry picture of a UFO that is probably just a stray balloon. "Here."

But even as he passes UFO pictures he'll continue on with, "So what is with this Addington case actually about? Seems a lot of fuss for an old case. There was basically nothing in the file to review."

Alexander frowns. "I don't need anyone to buy me a phone," he says, spine straightening with quick defensiveness. "I just...want my phone back." His irritation is as quick to pass as it is to arrive, though, because he looks fascinated when Shawn passes over the phone. "Did you see these around here, or elsewhere?" There's a hum at the question in turn. "Addison McNeely disappeared twenty years ago. Her family is well-off, and she was a young, pretty girl, so there was a comparative lot of publicity at the time. Public searches, all of that. It was while I was out of town, so I wasn't around for the initial investigation. But the case remained unsolved until just recently, when her body shows up, in a place that had already been thoroughly searched. And then her brother was accused of the crime. And then the Chief was accused of covering something up. And then both things sort of fell apart, the officer that had been tampering with evidence committed suicide, and the suspect, Benjamin McNeely, was shot on a highway. Now no one knows what the fuck's going on." His grin is rueful. "Including me."

"I was in Dallas, Texas - between jobs for a bit." He's done that more than a few times. "But they are come with pretty good 'you resign and we'll pay to keep everything quiet' packages so, I travel a bit between."

He listens carefully to the conversation about the case, humming quietly to himself. "Sounds like a mystery. Obviously she wasn't killed twenty years ago. Otherwise the report would have had her down to basically just a skeleton."

"I haven't really been out of the Pacific Northwest," Alexander says, after a moment. "Southern California is the farthest. But it sounds interesting." He steers them down the street, and hums. "You're tired. Coffee? Or something soothing, if you plan to collapse soon." His hands go into his pockets and he slumps as he walks, rather ruining the nice impression of the suit. "And yeah. That's one of the weirdness. Some people claim they've been having conversations in their dreams with her, too. Some sort of shadowy figure...pursuing? Controlling? Her, according to one person we talked to."

Shawn twists his wrist to check out the time on his very professional watch. "Shift starts in about six hours - so at this point it's not even worth it to lay down. Just power though - so if you have a good place for coffee, I'll just start the stimulant train."

There's a glance at the slumping Alexander beside him. "Is that a thing that happens? I mean, there's the occasional ghost in the morgue but dreams are pretty new."

Alexander's expression brightens. "Yeah. I know a place. You should be able to get some high octane caffeine there. If you're not Ravn," he adds, amused. "I don't know what he did to the woman behind the counter, but..." A shake of his head and he starts to walk briskly in that direction, just expecting Shawn to follow. "And I don't know. Ghosts don't usually do that. They haunt a person or a place, but they're a collection of memories, not people. So reaching out to strangers in strange places is odd. I suspect it's more a...Dream construct? Version of her. Maybe. But why, or how it's connected to her murder, I don't know."

A pause, before he chuckles. "I'm saying that more than I like. But something's clearly weird. It makes me wonder if someone like me is involved - with the judge, and some other things."

"She looked - sick." Shawn says, his eyebrows pulling in. "I haven't done much live diagnosing but I keep my board certification current. But you're saying it might be," he reaches up and mimes beams coming from his fingers. "Mind control or something else?"

Alexander grimaces. "Can't control minds. Can push people, with emotions. But also," his voice hushes, "if someone isn't a mentalist, I can change their memories. Convincing someone that something happened that didn't. Like a hearing." He frowns. "It doesn't explain the parents, though. Not even I can change something so long term and fundamental as religious orientation." A pause. "Not without some significant time and a lot of pressure." It's weird, the way he says it; like it's not just speculation. But then he smiles, banishing the momentary slackness of his face. "But you can't just magic someone into it, usually, is what I'm saying. It's weird."

"I've watched a few cases - the families usually don't like when you dig up their loved ones and say you want to cut them open."

Shawn's felt hat gets put on as he squints up at the sunlight. It's not something he typically sees a whole lot of. "The religion stuff gets pulled out a lot. So - you can make people think things happened that didn't happen? Can you read thoughts? It's some kind of mutation, isn't it?"

Shawn - wants to know everything ever.

"No, they don't," Alexander agrees. "But on the other hand, this is a kid that they spent thousands of dollars looking for when she went missing, and her brother became the prime suspect before he died, as well. A lot of families would want to know the truth of that, one way or another. Long term missing person's case? Usually wants closure, not more unanswered questions."

He takes a deep breath, lets it out. "But it's hard to predict people. And no. I don't read thoughts. I, um, pick up on emotions. And I can manipulate them. I can make people happy or sad or guilty or loving...whatever. But I don't know what they're thinking. I can't steal your PIN from your head, or know your darkest secret--although I can ask questions and pick up on which ones make you feel the most guilty or panicked." As to what it is, he hesitates.

"I don't know," he says, with a rueful little smile. "But we've heard of people from Over There. The Doctor, The Director, and The Collector. I met The Doctor once. I never want to again. Ever. Isabella said that he was a font - a source of whatever it is that makes people stand out in the healing way. I assume The Collector would be the source for psychokinetics, and The Director for empaths."

"Can you do it to me?" Shawn should not be so curious about this - but he totally is curious. SO VERY VERY curious.

But he can't get too stuck on what Alexander can do, because he's making introductions. Of a kind. His eyes grow big, "There's a dude in charge of healing? Can I meet him? Is that a thing? Dude - they control the government don't they!? I knew it couldn't all just be the politicians."

Alexander hesitates, then nods. "Yeah. Probably. I mean, some people have mental abilities of their own, and some people are just strong or determined enough to throw it off. But most people...yeah." He gives Shawn a sidelong look. "Do you want me to?"

The idea of Shawn meeting The Doctor sends an actual shudder down Alexander's spine. "No. No. I don't--you shouldn't. I don't know if he's evil, exactly. But he's...not good. Not good at all. I saw him explode a girl's head. And then kill one of his own underlings for trying to help us close down his asylum."

"Can we test the tin foil?" Utter seriousness on Shawn's face. He honestly thinks that might work and wants to know on a scientific level how well it does. "Or if my brain is strong enough to resist it? That would be useful if - "

Well, maybe not if, since Alexander just said taht meeting the guy is probably not a good thing. The large man droops just a little bit. "Exploding heads generally isn't a sign of a good dude. Too bad, someone with healing could maybe explain a few things..." Wistful there.

Alexander smiles. "We can. I've never tested with tin foil before," he muses. "If it works, I'll coat my own bedroom in the stuff." He's absolutely serious about it. "Although...that's something else I can do, actually. I can take a room and make it where none of this shit works in there, for about a day. Not even the Shadows can get in." He looks Shawn over, thoughtfully. "There are more experienced healers in town than me, if you have questions. I think August Roen would be the big one, but he's got a baby coming, and I think he's busy a lot. But he still might be willing for something."

"Remind me to call you next time the body starts throwing up maggots or something - I should just put you on voice dial."

Which because Shawn is a bit of a middle-aged spaz, he is going to do right now by opening his phone, scrolling to Alexander, and saying very clearly, "ALEXANDER CLAYTON" to record his voice onto the contact.

"I wouldn't mind those names if you have them - but about that mind stuff. We should try it. What do you need me to do I'll make it happen."

Alexander leans over a little as they walk to watch it happen, and smiles happily at being a voice contact. "That would be very interesting. Thank you." As to the other? He leans back and offers a quick shrug. "I guess pick a time and a place. Not here and now, but if you wanna get together and do it somewhere private, you can come over to my house one day. Or we can meet in the morgue when it's closed, or something. You could bring different substances if you wanted to try out potential barriers."

Shawn works best with people slightly unhinged. "Oh - I should let Danny know the results of that experiment too." Yes, Shawn is BFFs with Ravn's mermaid homeless man. Normal people are boring, okay?

"Tin foil for sure - maybe some steel? Plastic is bunk - but what if it was like, mixed with aluminum? " Stop him soon or Shawn is going to go on an utter tangent of materials that he could wrap his head in to see if Alexander's mind-powers can work on it.

"Daniel," Alexander mutters under his breath. Then he says, "In mythology, cold iron is usually effective against magic. I don't know if what we do counts. Or if you could get something made of iron to put over your head. But that seems...interesting." He looks enthusiastic. "It'll be fun." He's also not the one who is going to be putting random materials over his head and letting someone then try to fuck with his emotions. But, friendship! It's a beautiful thing.

The strip mall the coffee shop is in is just up ahead, and he angles them across the street to cross the parking lot.

"Is his name Daniel? I thought he just said Danny?" Shawn, looking very serious about this thing for exactly half a heartbeat before bouncing off onto Alexander's suggestions. "Oh - maybe like an old time knight's helmet. Or an iron pot, cast iron or a dutch oven - in a pinch. Probably should find some kind of oxygen though," The doctor may be crazy, but he does know his basic physiology. Oxygen in = body still working. Oxygen not going in = body dead and ends up on his slab.

Coffee! Mana of the gods! YES. He looks up suspiciously at the sign though, making sure this isn't a Starbucks. A firm nod when there is no mermaid woman on the sign and he follows Alexander in.

"Danny isn't a real name. It's a nickname," Alexander mutters. Then shrugs. "Don't mind me. It's...it's a thing. I don't like nicknames." He does look embarrassed as they enter the shop, but still firm. And this is definitely not a Starbucks; although if one is allergic to puns, then Expresso Yourself might elicit a similar reaction. The woman behind the counter blinks as they come in, staring a bit at Alexander. Not his usual wardrobe, clearly. He seems oblivious to it, and just gestures for Shawn to go first - the guy probably needs the stimulants more than Alexander does.

"Is it related to true-name stuff? They know it, they'll take it?" Alexander can't just throw that out there and not have Shawn immediately latch onto it as something new and interesting to know everything about. "Or it will give you power - dude, what could you do with someone's full name?" Yes, he's just going to go right there.

But they'll have to take a break as Shawn goes to ask the woman what the strongest thing on the menu is, and as he does so, slip in how he's glad this isn't a Starbucks because they're a Zionist cult that wants to drug the world into Christianity.

The woman behind the counter does not want to know this and is not sure that Shawn NEEDS any caffeine but y'know, he has money, she takes it.

Then Shawn will be polite just long enough for Alexander to order - and go back to shooting questions at him.