2022-01-15 - Sweet Reunions

It's earlier than Perdita might like to be up and about, but when you want to see someone with an early shift, you make concessions. That's why Perdita walks into Espresso Yourself as they're just open, to order breakfast for two. Her long hair is in a simple braid, and her clothes are decidedly less glamor than usual, with a pair of fitted jeans and an oversize white knit jumper under another of those ridiculous faux fur coats that she seems to have an almost endless supply of, this one a simple black and knee length. Of course, she's still got a killer make up look, even at stupid-AM.

Food ordered, Perdita waits patiently for it to be handed over.

"I love that you dress to match me, dear, but I think you set one plate too few." The voice behind Perdita is easily recognisable -- and amused. Ravn sidles up to the counter after her, and sucks in his breath.

In the interest of keeping the narrative moving we shall summarise the next moments of his life as follows:

A man orders a black coffee.
A man gets a pumpkin spice latte.
A man points out that this is not black coffee, and that it is also horribly out of season.
A man is informed that the spice has been kept on tap for his sole benefit, and that he should be proud.
A man sighs, takes his pumpkin spice latte, and looks defeated.

If this is some kind of flirt, it's gone on between Ravn Abildgaard and Della the Day Manager for more than a year now, and he's yet to win a single time.

Garrett, looking decidedly more awake, enters a few moments after Perdita. Green pants. Grey shirt. Belt full of God-knows-what. Yep, he's very much getting ready to go to work from here.

"Ravn. Morning," he greets the man as he sidles up beside Dita, giving her a little hip bump and a smile. "What're we having?" he asks her, still smiling as he tucks keys into. his pocket.

"I'm wearing too many other colors to match you, darling." Perdita flutters her lashes playfully at Ravn. She watches the exchange between Della and Ravn with amusement, accepting Garrett's hip bump with a smile.

"We are having two large black coffees, two hot cocoas, an apple muffin, a blueberry muffin, a cherry danish and a bagel with schmear... I wasn't sure what you'd want, basically, so I got a spread to share." she smiles up at Garrett, only slightly sheepish.

"And my company," Ravn adds and wanders along to settle, pumpkin spice latte and all, at the same table because hi, you just earned yourself a breakfast date interruption. "I've been meaning to check up on the both of you anyhow -- haven't seen much of either of you since New Years or earlier, and well, the Bauer Building has Opinions of its own. How's life in the penthouse?"

"You're too good to me," Garrett says lightly, helping get their haul to the table. He claims cocoa for himself, casually leaving one of the black coffees in the middle of the table in silent invitation.

"Only occasionally unsettling. Mostly good," he answers Ravm's qiestip. with regards to the penthouse life. He claims the danish, as well. "How's life on Oak?"

The bagel and schmear, and one of the coffees are claimed by Perdita. Ravn inviting himself to their table doesn't bother her in the slightest, and she smiles at the second coffee, back to Della, quirking a brow.

"Well, other than the pixies in the plumbing." Please be kidding.

"The faerie ring in the backyard turned out to be an inter-dimensional communications gateway to the realm of Celtic faerie and Peter Pan is still expecting us to find and bind his escaped nightmares, but apart from that, things are pretty quiet." Ravn laughs softly -- he definitely realises exactly how absurd that sounds, but what can you do? "Apart from that -- I think the wildest I'm getting up to has been politely declining a date, which is unusual for me, but hardly something that makes the Gazette's headlines. How's the situation with the -- wolf gangsters? Alexander gone and got himself shot up some more, or has it been quiet down there?"

Ah, Gray Harbor. Where even the most absurd answers have a better-than-average chance of being true. He sips his cocoa, then glances towards the clock.

"Hell. Didn't realize how late it already was." He's on his feet, taking his breakfast with him on his commute, it looks like. "Ravn, nice seeing you. Both minutes," he says with a grin before turning to Dita. "Have a good day, see you tonight. Love you." A quick peck on the cheek and he's striding quickly towards the door. That park won't range itself, after all.

"... wolf gangsters? Nobody told me about wolf gangsters."

"Be safe." is her immediate response to seeing Garrett getting ready to head out...

And then Dita's brain is short circuiting, because... well. Words. She blushes. Perdita Euphemia Leontes actually blushes, but she's also smiling wide... and can't get words out. Garrett just managed to silence her. How about that, folks?

Ravn at least has the decency to pretend not to notice. He raises a hand at Garrett in goodbye. "Don't get your face eaten by grues, all right?"

Then he taps the bullet hole on the sleeve of his leather jacket. "Wolf gangsters. As in, take a quick back to 1930, get involved in some kind of gangster drama, only the gangsters were wolf-men. I told you his office is haunted -- it's very, very haunted. In that special kind of Veil way where something on the Other Side took a look at some vague lingering presence and thought, hey, why not crank this up to eleven and we can have a party?"

That blush doesn't show any signs of going away anytime soon. Nor does that smile, but at least she recovers quickly from the shock of it all.

"Can't say we've encountered any wolf gangsters, at least... I definitely need to lower Alexander's rent if that's something he's having to deal with, though. That sounds awful." she begins spreading cream cheese over her bagel, still smiling, slightly goofily.

Huge man, huge dogs, all around town this morning. The visage of KC was spotted early today as the man was up early taking the girls and going jogging. Two large German Shepherds, one copper colored and the other one grey, take a run by the window with a huge and massively maned man in tow. Muffled from the outside, one can hear the man call out, "Hey, girls! Stop, stop!" bringing the two dogs to a halt, immediately turning to sit and look up at dad for an explaination. They actually look like they expect one too, not just a treat or something. "You wait here. Be good, I'm gonna go get something." he tells them. And the dogs seem reserved to sit and stay put outside of the store. They're good girls, friendly to folks that pass by and come up to them, but they stay put.

A second later, in grey sweat pants and a tank top, with activity gleaming all over him, the giant bearded man steps in, going over to the counter and ordering himself a healthy refreshment, and four bottled waters.

"Knowing Alexander, he likes it. Not in some twisted, sadistic way -- but in the way of a good mystery. He has -- he always seems most at peace with himself when he's got some kind of mystery to occupy his intellect. Sometimes, when he doesn't, he feels like he's worrying too much about whether he fits in, whether he will be accepted. But when he is taking the lead in an investigation, he steps up and takes charge with complete confidence. It's a damn pity he doesn't have an official license because he's little short of a criminal genius." Ravn sips his pumpkin latte, and makes a face at the taste.

He glances up at the sudden arrival of very large dogs and their admittedly not a midget owner, and then offers a lopsided smile along with a raised hand. "Looks like you and your girls are settling in. Kahnn, wasn't it? Meet Perdita Leontes. We are cat people, so perhaps some day we shall meet on the field of battle. At which point you'll have Isi Cameron on your side because she just adopted a German Shepherd of her own."

The young woman sitting with Ravn still has a slight tint of pink to her bronze skin. "... so you're saying I could probably double his rent and get away with it. Not that I'm going to. I feel gross enough charging people money for space. Why did I buy that building? I hate landlords." The last is said softly, lest anyone else be offended by Perdita's anti-capitalist leanings.

As KC arrives, Perdita looks up, and up, and up. "... hello." It's not said in a flirty tone, though her eyebrows have raised significantly. It's just not every day one meets someone that tall.

"Oh yeah? Well shows what you know, because Grey and Copper love cats. They're fascinated by them. The cats usually aren't to thrilled by their wanton curiosity, but they don't really go in for the battle." the giant man chuckles with his order easily sitting in his large hands. It is notable that he has a jacket tied around his waist as well, given the weather, it's a good idea rather than just a tank.

"KC Kahnn, pleasure to me you." he offers to Perdita with a warm smile on his face, "Early risers?" asked to the pair.

"Have to be," Ravn murmurs with a smile. "Have to be available to my students -- and they're nine hours behind me, on Central European Time. I do tend to take a nap in the afternoon though, to make up for it and still have some evening left."

He glances at the dogs waiting outside like the good puppers they are. "Most cats around here are just cats. Some of them will love the attention, some will hate it. If you spot a black cat the size of a lynx, maybe tell them to stand down. Same for very large white or blue cats, but those are usually only seen in December. The Uncat might eat a dog raw just for a show, though, she's got Opinions."

He's probably told Isi Cameron the same thing.

Then, with a smile, Ravn adds to Perdita, "I had no idea you hated me. Maybe we can form a union of self-loathing capitalists."

"Nice to meet you, too, KC." she smiles, warmly, then glances back toward the door Garrett just exited from a few moments ago with a fond smile. "My boyfriend works for Park Services up in Olympia, so he's up early. I usually sleep in, but today I wanted to see him off with a breakfast date, but... time is fleeting." Perdita laughs, taking a bite of her bagel while Ravn explains the various scary cats of Gray Harbor.

"I don't hate you, I hate your... our... exploitation of the masses. It's less bad because I'm renting out office space so I can do charitable works, and you're renting out a goddamn castle."

An emotive male voices echoes from just outside, carrying as if its author is accustomed to oration or may simply be naturally ebullient. "Well hello, lovelies." It's clear the attention is reserved for the dogs. For a handful of moments, the sturdy-looking man crouches to offer what affection the animals allow. His long hair gathers about his shoulders, though his bangs are mostly tied back. When he's done, he stands and dusts any lingering fur from his hands and enters the shop.

"Hello," he says cheerfully to those assembled, looking around for a menu to busy himself with.

"The cats are still pretty dangerous around here I see..." KC mutters, scratching his beard, "Thanks for the heads up, I'll have a talk with them. The girls are usually pretty reasonable." KC is a man that obviously loves his dogs like real kids, and talks to them that way sometimes.

Perdita is given a chuckle, "A breakfast date, that's cute. But uh--" KC seems confused about something that she says about the breakfast date thing, and he frowns in his confusion, thinking about asking, but deciding better for it, "Nevermind, a breakfast date sounds nice." he decides.

The two large dogs are thrilled that someone is attending them. Like good girls, they sit patiently waiting for their dad to return, watching people pass by. Though when someone actively addresses them, they spring to life with wagging tails, leaning bodies and plenty of pleads for touching. Sniffing, licking, general excitement for human attention, all confined to a small space, which is where KC told them to sit. It catches KC's attention, who isn't a worried dog dad, just a good one, turning to see the interaction. It makes him smile whenever people interact positively with them, as he is very proud of the dogs.

"Howdy," KC offers to the man, "I think you just made their morning. Their size tends to keep people at bay, but they fall into piles of butter when anyone pay attention to them."

The copper blond at the table raises a gloved hand in a friendly wave at the newcomer; he's a tall (not as tall as KC, come on, how many people are) bloke wearing black jeans and ditto turtleneck and blazer -- and drinking, of all the things in January, a pumpkin spice latte. "We'll print membership cards for the Exploiter's Society later," he tells Perdita with amusement.

Then he tosses the dogs another glance. "They look like a couple of good girls. My father used to breed German Shepherds -- I didn't inherit his hand with dogs, though. They're beautiful dogs, and pretty damn clever. Got an entirely undeserved bad reputation in Europe, due to German history." That's not what his accent is, though -- not German, and definitely not the British it's trying to pass itself of as, either. "Pull out a couple of chairs and join us?"

So maybe the man's just that friendly. Or lonely. Or curious about other people who seem to -- stand out a little.

The look on Perdita's face as Yossi walks in is one of... perplexed musing. Like she's seen the man before, somewhere, but can't quite place it. She shakes her head slightly, turning her attention back to the conversation at hand. And, with the invitation to sit, Perdita smiles and nods, cheerfully. And what a smile, the young woman is clearly in a good mood... though her gaze keeps moving back to Yossi as she just... searches her memory.

With enough space free in her coffee cup, now, she pours in a bit of hot cocoa to the mix. And there's that second coffee cup, sitting, untouched, unloved, unsullied by Pumpkin Spice.

Considering the menu, Yossi gently rubs the hair at his chin as if coffee is some kind of unaccustomed rarity. His voice is deep, holding a hint of some kind of near-east bilingual accent.

"Hm?" He says to the giant, thoughtful expression warming. "Oh, the ladies are yours? They're wonderful--got a kindness to them that speaks well of their owner." He glances around KC (admittedly a meaningful task) and back towards the outside. A thoughtful smile creeps over his lips. "Well-trained, too."

He turns his attention back to the menu, and obviously assuming KC is some sort of local, gestures at the selection, "What do you recommend?"

For a couple of moments, KC is lost in thought. Yeah, he does that a lot. until something snaps his attention back. Where does he go when he does that? What it looks like from the onlooker, is as if he were viewing something out of focus right in front of is face. What it is for KC himself is a mystery that will have to be asked. But he zones out again and hears Ravn speaking about the dogs to snap him out, "Oh yes! They're great girls! Been with me their whole lives. They like to worry and fuss over me a lot." making the man smirk.

For refreshment sake KC has something really green and pulpy. Some sort of smoothie that is no surprise to anyone that he ordered. "Oh um- I just got a green dream smoothie," he shakes the cup at Yossi, "Not much of a coffee person. Tea if anything." while he settles awkwardly in a seat with the other two.

Dogs? Alexander likes dogs, and the two outside the coffee shop catch his attention. He stops outside to pet them, murmuring low to them, giving them time to sniff and be comfortable first. He even smiles, for a moment, which makes him look at least...fifty percent less likely to start screaming about the alien takeover of the military industrial complex. Then he shuffles in, dressed in his typical hobo-wear, making his way towards the counter. His eyes flick back and forth, assessing the interior for threats - or, hey, friends. There's another of those brief smiles for Ravn and Perdita, who he recognizes. The two unknowns are given suspicious once overs...but hey, that puts them in the good company of about a quarter of the other patrons as Alexander gets to the cashier to order a large cookie and a hot cocoa.

Look at that cup of unsullied black coffee. One moment it's sitting right there, looking like a cup of coffee. The next moment, there's a sampled and rejected cup of pumpkin spice latte sitting there. And Ravn is certainly content to curl long, gloved fingers around that cup of virginal black magic bean juice.

Alexander gets another of those gloved waves. "Hey, Clayton -- I was just telling Perdita about your lupine visitors. Take a chair and join us?"

Alexander gets a warm smile, and Perdita pulls out a chair, offering it up to her favorite hobo-looking tenant, but she's still looking at Yossi like she knows him from somewhere. Could it just be that he very vaguely resembles her oldest brother, Raphaél? No, it's more than that, and the grifter trusts her memory with names and faces. And she should, it's kept her alive at times.

It takes Perdita a few more seconds of staring at Yossi before something starts to click. He looks familiar because he's family. "... Yossi?" Yes, she just had to dig in her brain to get that name out.

Dogs? Someone left a pair of dogs outside? They're given a warning look by the big cop who ambles on up to the coffee shop's door. Like, try anything and I'll bite, you mangy little fucks. Neither of them look impressed. But neither does de la Vega, to be fair. He shoves the door open, steps into the line, and starts digging for his wallet while he takes stock of who's here today.

Tilting his head with almost academic interest, and far from dissuading Yossi to communicate further, KC's reverie seems to interest him all the more--suggesting it's perhaps something he's seen before. His eyes flick towards the green smoothie, then back at the menu. "I don't have coffee or caffeine all that often, so I am, admittedly, a bit undereducated about all the options."

As Alexander crosses his field of vision, he nods in a polite and genuine way, about to speak again when his attention is arrested by the utterance of his name. He turns towards Perdita, his thoughtful expression intensifying, though his warm disposition remains. "...Yes?" Something akin to recognition sparks--and something he had obviously missed when he first entered the shop, but he can't quite place it. "Have we met?" He peers. He steps over and peers more. "Wait."

Oh my god! A two-fer! What would make this morning even more perfect is for a couple children to come along and give them pets! The two girls sorta fight for attention from Alexander, having already been spoiled Yossi, they're even more eager one trying to nudge the other one out of the way, getting a little vocal with a 'awoowowo' that says 'Hey, she's had enough, it's my turn!'. They eventually let him go about his business. They're not in any rush to go. They can sit here and get adored by passers by, and they LOVE it.

Ruiz gets a curious look as he arrives. He's looking at them, but not interacting. One of the dogs look at the other one, and the second looks at her. Communicating on some non-vocal level, clearly confused about the man. They don't approach him, just give him a weird look.

"They're gonna expect that from you anytime they see you now." KC mentions to Alexander as he arrives, "They love men, and children. They love prettymuch everything, but men and kids are their favorite kinds of humans." the large man fiddles with his green drink a bit, to make sure it keeps its smooth consistency. The interaction between Perdita and Yossi catch his attention. Reunion drama? Of the positive nature perhaps? KC is all about that stuff.

Alexander steps to the side once he's made his order, putting his back towards a wall so he can watch everyone. But the invitation warms his expression, and once his order is up, he makes his way to the chair Perdita's pulled out for him, and sits down. Ruiz's entrance is noted, and a bright, brief smile flashed in the cop's direction, before he answers Ravn, "Haven't had any other problems with them, yet. I imagine I will, but the office is worth it."

He gives Perdita and Yossi's interaction a curious look, but being addressed by the giant draws most of his attention, eyes widening a little as he takes in the size of the guy. "Um. They're nice. Seem happy." He glances at the smoothie, then back at KC. "I don't know you," he tells the man, and maybe he doesn't mean it like an accusation, but that's definitely what it sounds like.

Ravn raises his hand in another friendly wave -- does this guy know everybody? Then he nudges a chair out and gives de la Vega a meaningful look while holding his coffee in his other hand. Yes, that's black coffee. Unpolluted, indiluted, unspoiled -- perhaps he's indicating that it's safe to sit down, coffee might not even end up 'borrowed'.

"I'll keep my cassock ready," he tells Alexander, and for some reason brushes fingertips over a hole in his jacket sleeve. "That story is going to tell itself one way or another. I'm still waiting for Humphrey Bogart to turn up, holding a bird statue."

The interactions between dog lovers and dog owners, not to mention Perdita and Yossi, are observed but not commented on. Ravn is not a dog person -- and he's fairly certain he's not someone's cousin, either. Well, not somebody here, anyhow.

"Leandresko la Dansko la Gabriella anda le Kolompár vica!" Perdita's out of her seat now, approaching with a joyful smile. The words spill out of her at a rapid pace, heedless of the folks around. It's not like they speak a word of it anyway, right? "De akana mai anglal... me bushov, Perdita! ... *" wait, he's not understanding a damn word of that because he's *family, but he's also bi-shibako, lacking the language.

"I'm Danior and Gabriella's daughter, Perdita! Your mother is one of my father's cousins." Or cousin's cousins. Who keeps close track when your population's scattered across the globe? A cousin is a cousin is a cousin! Of course, when last they met she was a skinny kid with knobby knees and curly hair... annnd a few other differences she's clearly hoping he won't remember.

Alexander's spotted almost immediately, and his smile's returned with something faltering, though undeniably warm from Ruiz. It crinkles up the corners of his dark eyes briefly before it melts away again. Then he tosses a crumpled bill on the counter for his, "Black coffee, please," and gives his baseball cap a little tug as he slouches off to one side to wait for it. And then spots Ravn nudging a chair out for him at his table. And ambles in closer, clearly a little tense at the number of people nearby.

"Hola, cómo te va?" he murmurs to the Dane as he settles in with a grunt, knees spread wide, tap, tap of his boot heel. His tee shirt today reads Let me put this in Spanish for you: NO.

While the foreign words are familiar, Yossi's full understanding of them failed years ago. But with the truncated translation comes understanding, and if an exclamation point could appear over one's head, it would now be dancing over his. He was very clearly not expecting this kind of reunion, and more importantly does seem to have some recollection. With expeditious grace, he edits his memory and opens his arms wide. "Cousin Perdita!" He says with almost comic enthusiasm, gathering the woman up in an exuberant bearhug. Familial distance obviously matters little; family is family.

Gently depositing Perdita back on her feet, he says, a touch more soberly, "I had no idea Danior and Gabriella's kids had made it out this far. I've been out of contact with everyone for awhile, or I'd have reached out before I arrived. How are you?" He gestures towards an empty seat, "May I?"

"I can take that as a good or a bad thing." KC jokes and chuckles to Alexander. He thinks it's funny and clever, even if there is a personal reality looming in his words. Couple of moments of awkward chuckles, KC gives him a little look, "Sorry, name's KC Kahnn. Grew up here. Just moved back. I work at Western State Hospital." KC goes to lift his hand from his drink to offer it to Alexander, but he spills a dollop of his green drink on his hand, having to take a moment to suck it off and offer the hand, immediately realizing that he's offering a hand he just put his mouth on and apologizes again, taking it back. He is paying attention to Ravn and his interaction with these people who pop up. If he seems to know them, it makes KC feel a bit more at ease with the new arrival.

He is drawn back into the scene with Yossi and Perdita. In his line of work he sees a lot of reunions like this and others, and it's usually always warming. He may be a little more interested in the portrait that Yossi paints of himself with his appearance too, not consciously. The man can read people all day at work, but can't pick up his own signals to save his life. "That's nice." he says to the table, "You really like to see that kinda thing, yanno. Reunions?" said dreamily . He shifts a bit to shuffle and make room for the others as they come to sit.

"What is this language?" Alexander asks Perdita...while speaking that language. Haltingly, like he has to hunt and peck across some sort of mental typewriter to find the words, but coherently. "It's interesting."

When KC offers that hand, Alexander leans back from it, with a little shake of his head. Switching back to English, he mutters, "I don't like to touch people," and it's at least somewhat apologetic. He grimaces at the way the man introduces himself, and adds, less apologetically, "That's not a name. Those are initials. I'm Alexander Clayton." Which, at least, explains a fair amount of this conversation, as he's one of the town's noted, uh, unique individuals if you're being polite, and crazy assholes if you're not.

His gaze flits from Perdita to Ravn, back and forth, although he does smile a little at Ravn's comment. "You looked pretty good in it," he admits. "Before the blood and everything."

"Hola," Ravn returns the Chief's greeting -- and as he pronounces the 'h' he's very obviously not a native Spanish speaker.

Perdita nets a raised copper eyebrow -- but Ravn is not about to interrupt this happy family reunion. He does not speak Kalderash either, not a single word -- but he does understand that this is an emotional moment between people who are scattered all over the world (and if there is some personal guilt about that in there somewhere, it's definitely not something he's going to be discussing in a public place).

Maybe he's grateful for Alexander's observation; it's a distraction from those thoughts. And an unexpected compliment to boot -- the Dane has to chuckle. "I can't say I've ever considered whether I'd look good dressed as a Catholic priest. I can try to show a little more leg next time. Life here is never boring, is it?"

The bear hug is met with a familiar laugh as she's lifted up. "Oh, it's only me, right now. My brothers and my sister are still back in-" she turns and stares at Alexander for a second, her expression somewhere between confounded and very slightly offended, perhaps. The language just sounds weird on non-Rom tongues. It's her own fault, of course, don't talk in foreign languages around people if you don't want them understanding and eavesdropping, even more so around here.

"New York." she finishes, smiling, taking Yossi by the hand and leading him over to the table in a gesture of familial acceptance.

Alexander does get an answer, however, "Kalderash. It's my... one of my native languages. Everyone, this is my cousin Yossi. Yossi, this is Ravn, Alexander, Ruiz and KC." she scoots back into her seat and scoots carefully toward Ravn, making space for everyone. Her smile is a little shaky, like she's about to get emotional, but she's keeping it together. This mascara might be waterproof but she doesn't feel like testing it in front of a bunch of people.

Nodding a few times at the familial update, he takes that moment of Perdita's disapproval to assess all of the faces in the room, noting expressions and interaction as if quickly attempting to see everyone. This is especially important when Perdita offers each face a name. "My pleasure, everyone," he says, smiling graciously as he sits, squeezing Perdita's hand reassuringly. "Yossef Aydin, reverend and artist," he adds, to provide further context, nodding to each of those assembled.

"Are these all your friends, Perdita?" He asks, assuming the most optimistic explanation so Perdita can otherwise correct him. "I can't admit to being current on your situation, but I admit I'm gratified to know that you're surrounded by people who care about you, if so."

KC is notably marked as one of those possible crazy folks. He's the son of that crazy old witch that supposedly killed her own husband. And Alexander is pushing to have KC tell the full of his name. It internally makes him groan, not because he dislikes his name, but because it's always an ordeal when he mentions it. It's a strange and unique sorta name, which is fine with him, he just gets anxiety with the 'Seriously? That's your name' that he often gets, and he anticipates it every time. But Alexander gives him an out on that! He reveals something that the man can snatch the attention away with by subtle social manipulation, "Oh YOU'RE Alexander! Haha, yeah that about adds up." he laughs, "Lyric said you're super weird about touching." KC waving a 'look! People have been talking about you' as the distraction away from his name. "I'm s'posed to talk to you about weird stuff sometime. Today is a casual day tho, not a heroic day." What's he talking about?

Phone goes off with a tone. It's actually a scream sound heard on a once popular cartoon (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MqmRP5b-pso). That makes KC blink, "Oh shoot. That's work. Doesn't make that sound unless there's a problem." as he is fishing out the device from is pocket to look at the message. "Patient having an episode on the unit, shift nurse hurt, property damage, can't get ahold of the safety officer... damnit." the large man immediately pushes up from the table, "Sorry, gotta get ghost. Looks like I spoke too soon about not being a heroic day." he smiles sheepishly, "Sorry. Have a good one!" he says before he jogs quickly out the door, collecting his dogs leashes, "Let's go girls! Let's go home!" he chirps to get them up and running again as the trio jogs off.

"I don't think Catholic priests are supposed to show leg," Alexander murmurs to Ravn. He flinches at Perdita's expression, his shoulders hunching as he ducks his head and looks down at his hot cocoa. It's picked up in both hands, held up almost like he'd want to dive into it. "Sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. It was just interesting. I haven't heard it before." Even so, he mouths the name of the language to himself, committing it to memory.

And then its his turn to look offended, at KC's masterful deflection. "I am not weird about touching. I just don't like it. There's nothing weird about that," he snaps at the larger man, sinking into his chair in a defensive huddle. He watches him go, with an air of suspicion, eyes narrowed, not breaking the study until KC passes out of sight. Only then does he turn back to Yossi, giving him a look that's almost as suspicious.

"Javier," the cop corrects in a low murmur, when Perdita introduces him. He slides her a quick, sidelong look, then flashes Yossi something that might be a smile. If smiles resemble the way a wolf looks when it's about to take a bite out of you. "Encantado de conocerte." Ruiz, of course, is one of his surnames, per Mexican naming conventions.

His coffee newly arrived, he collects it and takes a large sip while the others converse.

Ravn represses a shudder as KC bails, dogs in pursuit. "Can't say I miss being a patient in one of those places," he murmurs, quietly, to no one in particular -- and then, like KC before him, jumps on an excuse to talk about something else. "I'm not actually a Catholic priest. If I have to wear the collar, the least I can do is make it interesting. Find out if you can get excommunicated without being a member of the church in the first place, that sort of thing."

He's probably not serious about that.

He upends his coffee, black and wonderful and pure, and puts his cup on the table. "But I think I shall have to follow suit, if at a more dignified pace. I have several essays to grade before European business hours. I'll catch most of you around sooner or later, sí? Probably sooner." That last bit gets accompanied by a wink to de la Vega; the Chief is going to regret not taking Ravn's phone away before the Dane met -- and fell in love with -- the Duolingo owl.

Then, collar up around his ears, the Dane heads back out into the dark and damp that is PNW winter.

"Most of them. I don't know KC yet, but in a town this small I'm sure we'll be fast friends, soon." the slight quirk of her eyebrow as she glances from Yossi to KC and back is mostly hidden by the heavy bangs. "You didn't, I'm just... not used to hearing non-Rrom speak it." Perdita admits with a slight shrug. "It's not something we typically teach outside the family, after all." she reaches toward Alexander's hand comfortingly, but draws well short, remembering he doesn't like to be touched, instead patting the table near him affectionately, instead.

"Lo siento, Javier, not Ruiz." She smiles at the older man, a little sheepish. Too many people around her call him too many different names, dammit. Ravn gets a fond wave and a smile, as does KC, though she starts at the notification alert.

"I'm doing quite well. I own a building here in town. Do you have some place to stay, Yossi? Food?" hospitality's always been big with her family, even her non-Romani mother. Always make sure family and friends are cared for, without expectation of repayment.

There's a lot for Yossi to unpack in a short amount of time. He notes much of what KC says, and with a quickly-passing look of serious interest that he allows to fade in the wake of the big man's exit. It's gone by the time he's matched gazes with Alexander, meeting suspicion with a pleasant candor. "I'm happy to answer any questions you may have," he says spreading his hands in an open and invitational gesture.

His attention is momentarily taken by Ravn's Catholic commentary, and a short, knowing laugh. "Doubtful, but we can talk about it sometimes, if you like." It wouldn't be a very serious conversation, given his wink. He glances towards Alexander again to reaffirm his offer, and then nods at Ruiz. "Javier," he echoes, allowing himself a thoughtful moment to inwardly interrogate that look with the curiosity of a man who compassionately reaches out to that kind of danger. But like with the others, he sets that interest to rest for now.

Turning towards Perdita and resting his bearded chin against raised fingers, he shakes his head. "I've actually just arrived, so no," he says. "Today's job was to find a place to stay, as I'm likely to be in town for awhile for a variety of reasons--research foremost. Eventually I'll need to get a small studio set up so I can continue my artist work, but such things in time. Do you know of anything?"

"There's an argument to be made that those offenses which are latae sententiae would theoretically apply in a spiritual sense to anyone whether they were a member of the Church or not, but as most such offenses pertain to clergy or those who stand explicitly among the faithful, it might...hmm." Alexander pulls out his phone and does some typing, struck by sudden curiosity. His eyebrows go up at what he reads. "Could try to punch the Pope. Or perform an abortion. That's about--" he looks up, blinks. "Oh. He's gone."

Yossi's warm candor just gets a frown from Alexander, borderline hostile, although the investigator doesn't say anything. Just stares for a while, before he suggests, almost grudgingly, "Cheap lodgings are around Elm. Or the murder hotel down by the coast. There are some decent apartments, and some cabins up near the forest, if you're looking to stay for a while." A pause, and now we're back to borderline hostile. "Are you? Planning to stay a while?"

"No se preocupe por eso," murmurs Javier, with a wink toward Perdita and a sip of his coffee. After he's tracked Ravn's departure, and that cringe-worthy Spanish lobbed in his direction, his gaze roves back to Yossi. Whom he regards with frank curiosity for a few moments. Then, on the heels of Alexander's abrupt question, "What kind of research would that be?" Because you never know, he could be into seeing whether animal heads can be sewed onto people or some other weird shit. It's Gray Harbour, never hurts to ask.

"You'll stay with me until you find something that suits you. The penthouse isn't much, but the view is nice and it beats the Murder Motel." It's stated as a fact, Perdita giving a big smile, "I'll text my boyfriend and let him know we'll have company for a little bit. Báte will be pleased to know that I have a cousin in town... as for the studio... I can help with that, too. I own an office building, and most of the offices are empty... though most of them also need renovation, too." Perdita takes a sip of her coffee and hot cocoa mixture, then sets about nibbling on her previously forgotten bagel once more. There's still two muffins on the table, unclaimed, which she gestures to, offering them up as snackrifice.

With a crinkle of the eyes, to Alexander, simply, "Yes." Is it possible he finds the hostility charming?

"A murder hotel?" Intrigued. "You sound very knowledgeable. I don't wish to impose, but perhaps sometime, if you're willing, you'd assent to educating me a little about this place?" He offers the distinct impression of either a soul devoid of artifice, or a creature so in tune with the arts of subtlety, he's clearly a cryptid masquerading as a man.

To Javier, his brows furrow a little in thought, and he sighs, as if trying to configure the right assortment of words. "Whispers, a feeling," he says, and takes a breath, indicating a forthcoming deep-dive. "In a metaphysical sense."

He looks to the three of them, in turn. "I'm a religious scholar. I study history, sacred art and iconography, and, well." He laughs, "Weirdness? To distill it into something simple. I know it sounds bizarre, but I look for places where spirituality and metaphysics converge--places where belief and reality seem to overlap, where the line between actuality and potentiality becomes extremely thin. I study the way these sorts of places affect people, their environment, and their faith." He gestures around, as if to indicate the town. "Places like this, thick with stories and history and beliefs--they offer a rich ground for me to observe and contemplate. I suppose you can think of me as something like a monastery of one."

He leaves it at that for a moment, grinning at Perdita. "Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden." Normal family denials, with a mutual understanding the deal is already completed with the offer. "Really, even the studio? That's extremely generous of you, Perdita. I'll have to do something in return or I'll feel terrible. Some art for your office?" Also stated as fact, as the snackrifice is accepted. Nomf.

Alexander gives a quick, sidelong glance to Perdita. "I've been working on the third floor, when I can. Just a little here and there. You don't charge enough rent," he adds, defensively. "But some of them might be further along than others. If he's staying." He says it like it's probably a bad idea.

Then Yossi starts talking, and Alexander's attention resettles back on him, as the investigator sips his cocoa and just staaaaaaares. "Sea View. People get killed there sometimes. Hence, murder motel," he offers, at the end. "Somewhat a misnomer. People die in a lot of places in Gray Harbor. In the early 1900s, there were so many corpses floating in the harbor that contemporaries would write of 'shoals' of bodies." Your Fun Murder Fact (tm) of the day, courtesy of Alexander Clayton.

Information about the man's research just makes him huff a disgruntled breath of air.

Hard to say whether the answer Javier gets from the new guy satisfies him or not. He continues to watch him in a similar fashion to how he eyed up those dogs outside; like if Yossi makes one wrong move, the cop might be inclined to bite. But until he does? He's rather too lazy to do anything about it.

A glance at his watch presently informs him that he's, "Got to get going." The trio get a curt nod, and a light rap of heavily inked knuckles on the tabletop in farewell. And then he's hauling to his feet with his coffee, and ambling off for the door.

Perdita waves a hand absently, perfectly manicured nails catching the light. Shorter than either Alexander or Ruiz has seen them, simply because she's doing a lot more physical labor at the moment, "It is already decided, Yossi. Garrett will be fine with it for a little while at least." she smiles, canting her head slightly.

"I've noticed, Alexander, and it's very much appreciated. Just be very careful, I'd hate for you to end up with... wolf gangsters... again." Javier gets a warm smile, "Be careful out there."

Between muffin bites, Yossi says, awed. "How dismal." A few fingers move along the prayer beads dangling from his neck, possibly a silent prayer for the deceased. "I would love to hear more. How did they die? Are there mysterious circumstances? I have so many questions."

But, Javier is leaving, so he's offered a polite wave. "Fare well." And it sounds like he truly means that, casually threatening glances aside. Then he pauses. "Wolf gangsters?" Yes, this is exactly the place I need to be, is written all over his face. But he lifts a hand, dismissing the question. First, gratitude.

"Thank you, Perdita. I truly appreciate this."

"Don't die, Javier," Alexander says to Ruiz, and his eyes follow the man to the door, more worriedly than hostile. He watches him until he's out of sight, then turns back to Perdita with a pleased smile. "I don't mind. And there are always wolf gangsters. Or exploding movie stars, or something. Can't let it distract you." There's a philosophical sort of shrug.

As Yossi shows interest, he earns a look more wary than hostile, but Alexander answers, "Usually violence. At the turn of the 20th century, the Harbor was one of the biggest timber ports in the nation. The Wobblies were active here, which made the timber companies mad, and there was a lot of violence, smuggling, and all that. It had a reputation for a wild place, even by the standards of the time. Which weren't, uh, high."

"For family, it is nothing. My home is your home, my food is your food. My cat is an attention whore, though." Not unlike her mama, though Dita doesn't say that. She doesn't need family, even distant family, knowing the kind of life she's led just when she's getting back in good graces. For explanation of the gangsters, she gestures to Alexander with a smile. "He rents an office on one of the floors, and there's... something up with the space."

Once he's done, though, "Wobblies?"

Perhaps an over-formal gesture, Yossi nonetheless offers his cousin a small bow--the equivalent of an accepting handshake. "I will endeavour to be only a mildly annoying houseguest, and offer the cat all the attention she is due." He says, smiling as he lifts his head. Lofty promises.

Then, they're both looking at Alexander with the same question.

"International Workers of the World," Alexander says. "Union organizers. Early 1900s had a lot of the really vicious labor fights. Strikebreakers and union enforcers, cops and Pinkertons, all that shit." He breaks his cookie into neat little pieces, eyes flicking back and forth between them. "Lot of murders came back down to labor disputes. Either timber companies and their people murdering union organizers, or union heavies murdering strikebreakers - or brawls in the street that killed plenty of both."

"Elites exploiting workers versus workers tired of being exploited, and the authorities favoring the elites, of course." Perdita tilt her head slightly, "So the Wolves were... on the side of the union, then, or merely related?"

She picks up her mug, looking down into the dark liquid thoughtfully.

Eating his muffin is almost automatic as Yossi is engrossed in the region's historical drama. "I had no idea it got so violent. I was aware of the disagreements and occasional murder, but nothing to that extent."

He nods at Perdita in agreement, urging Alexander to continue with a second nod.

Alexander's eyebrows draw down, his brow furrows. "Wo--oh, the gangsters. Pretty sure they were just gangsters. They weren't real. Just a Dream. But probably based on or picking up aspects of reality. Hard to say. Although a lot of organized crime did involve itself in the various labor movements; labor organizers were often forced to turn to illegal sources for support or safehouses, because the police were generally on the side of, as you say, the elites. It's a complicated period of history. Most are." A brief nod to Yossi, his hostility forgotten for just a moment. "They don't teach it much, but there were outright massacres of labor trying to organize." He flashes a smile at Perdita, then finishes off his cookie and stands up.

"Sorry. I should go. Nice to see you again, Perdita." Yossi is just given yet another suspicious sort of look, before Alexander turns and walks off without another word.

"I've yet to meet a period of history that wasn't complex." Not that Perdita's a student of history, but she's literally survived a night in Nazi occupied Denmark, been a variation of Robin Hood... Yeah, it's been interesting. "Take care, Alexander." she smiles at him, fondly, watching him head out. "I promise, he's a wonderful man. Unusual, and a little prickly to newcomers, but he's a very good man." she shakes her head slightly and smiles, a bit sadly.

"I should probably give you the speech, since Ravn wasn't able to. This town is dangerous. There are Things here that will try to hurt you, even kill you. I don't know what you're researching, but you'd be safer researching something somewhere else. In the past year I've been shot at multiple times, survived Nazis, been attacked by horrifying goblin children and... Petre Pan left apple pie on my nightstand. It was delicious."

Yossi chews, rapt. "Fascinating," he says after swallowing, brushing some crumbs from his fingers. "I see my initial read on you was correct. You're a wealth of information." It's a compliment attended with a smile, left in the aether for Alexander to be as suspicious of as he wishes. As said man stands to go, Yossi lifts his hand and offers a short benediction. "May we all survive with grace such complicated times."

After the other man is gone, he listens to Perdita's explanation with a calmness born of understanding. Taking one of her hands in both of his, he smiles again. His hand are large, and rough for a 'man of the cloth.' Earthy. Grounded. He squeezes, gently.

"I know," he says.

Carefully, he replaces her hand on the table. "There are some things you should know about me before you feel comitted to any familial obligations," he begins, his dark eyes settling on hers. "I'm not certain how much you've been told, but you likely remember I was once on my way to becoming a Coptic priest. Weeks before I was to take the sacrament of priesthood, I had a... visitation, much as you've described." He sighs, allowing his gaze to drift away. "The church would not, or could not explain it, so I left."

His brows draw together as he frowns, obviously glossing over quite a bit of turmoil. "It drove a wedge between me and much of the family, and I can't in good conscience fault them for that. I was driven by a manic desire to understand what happened--and I still am, cousin," he admits, looking back. "Suffice it to say, I realized a long time ago this wasn't some passing infatuation that would lose its novelty with age. Everything you've said simply confirms what I've already felt about this place, and cements why I have to stay. I need to understand."

Dispelling the heaviness of his admission, however, he smiles again and pats her hand. "But I've had a long time to come to terms with that and found many ways to maintain a sense of inner peace. If the universe wills it, perhaps I'll be able to offer the same sort of solace to those in a similar position while I'm here."

The hand is squeezed, gently, and Perdita smiles back at him, comforted by the gesture in ways she can't put into words. "I... don't remember a lot of that, there was a lot that Báte didn't tell us or didn't know, himself." she admits, sadly. "I did think you'd gone into the priesthood, though..."

She nods, listening attentively to him, giving a little nod every so often to indicate that she's still listening. When he's done, she sits in silence, digesting the information with a thoughtful expression before speaking, herself. "If you want to study the strange and the odd, this is a great place for it, and the Bauer building even more so. There's... tunnels down below the basement that someone or something is living in."

"I can avoid mentioning that you're here, if you'd like to avoid family for a while, though. I'm not exactly the most... popular topic... in the family as a whole, after all."

She swallows hard, then shrugs. "Thank you for just... accepting things. And for not saying anything in front of them. When Báte threw me out I thought no one in the family would ever be willing to see me, let alone hold my hand or hug me, again. Thank you."

This time, Yossi rests a hand on her shoulder reassuringly. "When I was at perhaps my lowest point, I had this dream where an entity spoke to me. I've seen and worked with a lot of wise men and women over the years--mystics, gurus, priests, nuns, witches--it was like a human collage of all of these experiences into something uncanny, but not frightening. Quite the opposite, really. With a warmth I'll never forget, it reminded me that peace can only exist in the places where truth and kindness meet."

Slowly, he lifts both of his hands with an "if I may?" gesture. "Maybe it was angel, maybe it was something else; maybe it was just a dream. I don't know. But that seed of a message grew into a vow I took before witnesses to only ever speak the truth, and to always be kind. To myself, and to everyone else. I knew it was the only way I'd ever find peace." His hands cradle her cheeks. "So please understand that when I say this, it is coming from that place. Because I see you, as you are, here with me, in this moment." His head dips forward so their foreheads touch, and his hands let go.

"Perdita."

Her skin is soft, smooth, and blemish free, likely in no small part thanks to chemical peels. She doesn't pull away, she doesn't flinch. Perdita merely leans her forehead against Yossi's, eyes closed, her own hands coming up to cover his ever so briefly. They're soft hands, but strong, with callouses threatening to form from her time spent swinging a sledgehammer, using a shovel.

"Thank you." she smiles softly, content to stay like this for a moment. "I'm so glad to have found you again. I hope your time here is productive for you, and safe, Yossi."

Happy to remain as long his cousin feels she needs, his eyes likewise close, simply living in their shared moment. "Everyone deserves validation and peace," he says, now beginning to smile again. "Especially family. I really can't express how glad I am to have that connection again. Thank you for everything. And I'll always be here for you, as long as I am able."

"And me for you." Perdita says softly, pulling away after a few more seconds. People are going to start looking at them funnier than they already do at Dita. "Do you have anything planned for this morning, or would you like to see the building?"

Perhaps uncaring of awkward glances, or simply inured by merit of being a whacky holy man, Yossi doesn't seem to mind. "I've made a habit lately of planning as little as possible," he says, settling back into his seat; his smile remains. "I'd love to see the building."

"Then let's head that way. Do you have a vehicle or would you like a ride there? It's not a very far walk, but with the cold, I drove." Perdita looks a little sheepish. In her defense, she was planning to get groceries, but this seems more fun.

"Whatever is easiest for you," Yossi says, thumbing towards the door. "My car is parked just a short distance away." He leans forward a little, grinning mischievously. "But if it helps, I am the guest."

"Then I will have you follow me in your car, and we can get you settled in the guest room before you go about the rest of your day." Perdita smiles wide, grabbing her remaining muffin and tucking her hot cocoa cup down into her coffee cup. Thus armed, she glances at Yossi to make sure he's actually ready to go before she rises to her feet.

Yossi is already in the process of standing, dusting away any residual crumbs from his lap. Smiling, he wraps an arm around his cousin. "Shall we?"

"We shall." Perdita slips an arm amiably around Yossi's waist, smiling, leading the way out.