2022-01-26 - The Hotel California Speech, Take Whatever Plus One

Parvati seems to just go wherever her heart takes her- and today is no different. A thin flurry of snow dancing around her as she stands in the brisk wind of the morning. While the beach is grey and white, with dark seas, Parvati is a splash of intense color on an otherwise dull background.

Today, Parvati is wearing what looks much a trench coat of multi-colored alpaca wool. The fringes of the thing hang down to just above her ankles, showing off a pair of silk stockings in dark blue that were clearly designed only for the long legs they currently wrap around. Under her coat she's wearing what could only be called booty-shorts, made of glossy green leather. A corset is worn next, again made of leather- the panels between the boning the same green as below, albeit with yellow stitching in the shape of various birds along all sides. Even on the rocks of the beach, the woman won't go without her heels- today in the form of short boots that rise just above her ankles, in black with chunky, 3-inch heels.

It's a rare occasion in Gray Harbor: Ravn Abildgaard is not limiting his clothing options to black. Anyone who knows him somewhat will have little doubt that the electric blue fluffy sweater he's pulled on under the leather jacket has got to belong to his house mate, Aidan Kinney -- known Hawaii shirt and faux fur enthusiast. Why Ravn is wearing it today is anyone's guess but odds are it has a lot to do with the fact that it's bloody cold and he has never gotten around to investing in a proper heavy duty winter's coat.

Compared to the colourful woman walking past, the man squatting at the water's edge and sifting through stones with gloved fingers is nowhere near as colourful; apparently the Dane wears the same black jeans and jacket everywhere, and usually the same turtleneck to go with it. He's looking through a small pile of yellowish pebbles, almost as if searching for something -- and when he hears the clickety clack of heels on rocks he looks up, and smiles. "Nice day for a walk -- out exploring?"

"Just standing, really." Parvati says- as she looks over towards the man in the lovely fuzzy sweater. "Oh! That's a lovely color." she remarks, turning to better face the other beachgoer. "Mm.. yes. I'll have to see about getting something in that color." she says- mostly to herself- as she pulls her wool coat up along her form. "So, what is it that brings you to the beach, Ravn?" she wonders, "I'm just getting some air- I enjoy the sea air. The tinge of salt. I like it almost as much as I enjoy mountain air."

"Mostly the need to get out and walk," the Dane replies with a smile, and holds up a mustard-coloured pebble to the light. "But amber hunting is an old hobby of mine. We have a lot of it back home -- I have no idea whether it's worth the effort here, but then, it's as good a way to pass the time as watching TV, I figure. So far, though, I haven't found anything that isn't flint or some other kind of stone."

He glances back out at the bay. "My country's an archipelago. You can't physically get an hour away from the coast -- any coast, there's just no landmass big enough. Unfortunately, my boat's in dry dock this time of year lest the winter storms turn her into very expensive toothpicks. Do you enjoy sailing?"

"Mm. Only if it's a very large yacht. The sort with a full, open bar." Parvati answers to the Dane. "I have no need to tell you that India is a very large place. Certainly plenty of coast- and some of the most magnificent mountains you could ever imagine." she says, speaking wistfully of her homeland. "Unfortunately- India holds nothing for my future, and only fragments of my past." she shrugs, "I have ended up here, and so here I will stay until it is time to move on."

"I have never hunted amber- but, if you haven't had any luck maybe a change of locale?" she wonders, as she continues to stand in the flurrying snow. If she's cold she's absolutely not showing it.

Ravn straightens up. "Oh, I move a bit at a time. The hunt is a pleasure in itself -- it'd have to be a remarkable find to really be worth it in terms of time spent. My boat's definitely not that big -- the Vagabond can sleep six people if they're very good friends, but, a luxury yacht she's not. I only need space for myself and a cat so a floating villa would be rather overkill."

He glances back towards the marina, and beyond it, the Casino island. "If that's the kind of thing you like, though, the tourist season will appeal to you. We get a substantial amount of very wealthy yachters here, in part because of the casino -- people sailing through Puget Sound and nipping down here for a night or two at a luxury hotel, blowing money at the poker tables. Perdita complained for a week when she realised she'd missed the season this year -- her original plan here was to spend all summer in some millionaire's deck jacuzzi, and all she got was an offer for a late autumn fishing trip with me."

Parvati chuckles softly. "Honestly, I'm typically invited on the yacht to do a fitting. But, the shame is, I never do a fitting outside of my own workshop. If they want my clothing, they come to me." Parvati says simply, almost as if she fully expected people to do exactly that.

"Really, though, I just prefer solid land." she continues. "I get seasick far too easily to enjoy riding anything but the largest of ships." she says with an easy smile coming to her painted lips. "Still, I'm glad to hear you enjoy that life. We should all find something we enjoy."

Ravn sticks his hands in his pockets to warm them up -- gloves or not, damp pebbles are cold this time of year. "I get the impression that you're up there where customers ask for an audience, rather than a fitting," he suggests, with a small smile. "In part because if you weren't, trying to set up shop here would be absurd -- you'd be driving to Seattle or Portland almost daily and while that's certainly possible, it sounds like an absolute waste of time."

Another glance goes back towards the casino island out there, tall buildings in the mist of light snow. "Might be worth your while to drop a hint out there -- if you're looking for customers at all. Myself, I avoid the place unless my friend's playing in the piano lounge. That's worth paying an exorbitant price for a drink to sit in on."

"My business model works largely on word of mouth." Parvati explains, "Commissions come in to my answering service, or to the email address. I let them wait for two, maybe three days before I answer. They come to me, having seen the most fantastic dress on their friend who's name they're not willing to give. I smile, knowingly, and then give them a design like none-other. They sign an NDA, and the circle continues- whispering about how they got a special designer to make them something *special." she gives a little grin, "The wealthy love to feel like they're above everyone else. I just make use of that."

"Anyways, I have enough commissions in the pipeline to leave myself quite comfortable for some time. I just enjoy running a clothing store."

"Oh, they do, they definitely do." Ravn nods his agreement, and even chuckles a little. "My fiancée was pursuing a career as a designer but never quite managed -- to be blunt, she didn't have the talent to stand out from a million other young up and coming fashionistas. I'm starting to think you're somebody whose name she'll have been cursing in her sleep. Can't say I'm much for the glitterati myself but between you and Perdita, bleed the suckers dry."

He bends down to pick up another little yellow stone and turns it over in his hand; the other stays in his pocket where it's nice and warm. "This is not amber, but the shades of yellow and green are gorgeous. If I had any kind of artistic talent, I would paint shades like this. Has anyone warned you against the mermaids yet?"

"I should expect a Dane to warn me about mermaids, shouldn't I?" Parvati replies with a sly smile towards Ravn. "I've been to Denmark. All over Europe, really. It never really felt like home, though." she admits, "New York felt like home, for a little while at least." she shrugs, "Maybe this will feel like home- maybe it won't. I'm willing to try."

"You should paint it, then. Talent is only part of it- the rest of it is hard work. So many people drive on talent, sleep on talent. Talent doesn't pay your bills, though."

"Denmark is a lot of things -- just like any other country. My home town feels -- a hell of a lot more small and provincial than Gray Harbor in spite of having a hundred and twenty thousand people. Copenhagen feels like an actual city -- until you go to New York, then Copenhagen feels like some redneck village in the hicks." Ravn chuckles. "This town seems to strike the right balance of having a local community but not rubbing elbows with everyone whether you like them or not -- at least for me."

He glances at the small pebble and then decides to pocket it. "I barely know how to hold a pencil. But my house mate does murals, maybe he'll want to give it a try. As for the mermaids? We've got stories aplenty about mermaids back home, besides that famous one. They're generally believed to be sightings of harbour seals in the water. If you want to hear stories about mermaids that are more like Greek sirens, head down to the boardwalk sometime and find the bloke they call Mermaid Denny -- he's a bit of an expert. And now, if you run into him, you can tell him I already warned you about following any singing girls into the water, and thus, save yourself a lecture."

"Oh, if I'm following any singing woman into the water, I assure you it'll be one of those jacuzzi you mentioned previously." Parvati says with a little laugh. A lovely sound- musical. "I'll keep that in mind, though should I ever talk to Mermaid Denny." she assures Ravn.

"Do you know what sort of leather your jackets use?" She wonders then, "You should bring them in so I can color match them, as well. You'll need to go without at least one if they're otherwise identical." Parvati says, "And both once I get the leather."

"Oh, it's goat skin." Ravn looks a bit sheepish. "It's a thing for me -- it has to be soft enough. Unfortunately, it's not as resilient as pig or cow leather, but I suppose you can't have everything. I wouldn't want you to waste time, though. I am not some socialite who wants to impress his or her tennis club friends with the special design they had made. I'm just some clumsy academic who apparently can't put on a jacket without ending up shot or stabbed, or both."

The jacket (bullet hole and all) that he is wearing may be high quality Florentine leather, but the rest of his attire certainly doesn't match the idea of a millionaire playboy. And even the Florentines have low end design shops, for people who don't belong to the jet set.

He chuckles. "Of course, I have a friend who tells me to just wear them as they are, and that the holes make me look badass but -- I don't think I'd be capable of badass if I tried."

Parvati nods quietly, "It's not a difficult thing to take in a jacket, make it fit better. Honestly, I fully recommend tailored clothing to everyone. It doesn't have to be expensive. Just taking in a seam or hemming a pair of pants. Just that little bit can really make the difference for how clothing feels on you." she explains, "And at the end of the day- that's the important part. That the clothing feel good to wear." At least in this designer's opinion.

"Although, is that really something I should be concerned with? Bullet holes in the clothing I patch?" Parvati wonders, looking over towards Ravn again

"Gray Harbor is pretty quiet on the whole." Ravn manages to say it without feeling like he's lying -- it's usually the dream world that's not quiet, rather than the town itself. "But there are -- people you should avoid. As for me, I had the bad luck of being at a garden expo when somebody decided to take a shot at the Chief of Police. They'd apparently had the bloke described as 'some guy in black' and -- well, the idea that it might be the short Mexican guy didn't occur to them."

He studies the woman a bit; almost as if for a moment he is wondering if she can be trusted, or whether she is a certain kind of person -- it's a little misplaced, in the fashion of someone who thinks they're part of some kind of conspiracy and are wondering whether to try to recruit you to the tinfoil hat society.

Then, more quietly, the folklorist says, "There are a lot of myths and stories around here. People reporting hauntings and monsters in the mist. And a lot of opinions on whether they're real or not. Suffice it to say, I'd maybe not go visit the old saw mill or Gray Pond on my own."

"I see." Parvati says, taking a moment. A long moment that grows only longer in quiet as she stares out at the waves, with the snow flurrying around them. She pulls her coat up a bit, closing it at her middle, covering that bit of displayed skin. "I keep hearing things like this." she remarks, after that long moment of quiet. "And that I should not stay."

"It is a curious thing, really, to hear so many different people say things like this." she notes, "It makes me wonder why."

"I can tell you why. And you will assume that I'm crazy as a loon." Ravn hitches a shoulder. "But then, it doesn't really matter if you think so, does it? People keep telling you to leave because this town is situated in a place where several realities overlap. And some of those realities are highly dangerous -- which is why a lot of us are drawn here, but also why we keep telling people to do the sane thing and just keep on moving."

Parvati nods quietly, "I see." she says once again, "That's all very curious, really." Another moment of contemplation. Of thought. "I am unsure really what to do with this. I am welcomed and unwelcome. I feel drawn here, like others, but I am told to leave- despite the others not doing this very thing." she frowns to herself quietly, "It's all very confusing, to be honest. I'm not quite sure what to make of it all- but I am only made more curious."

"You won't be going anywhere," Ravn replies with quiet confidence and pockets pebble and gloved hand alike. "No one ever does. But we still feel obliged to warn people, for their best. It's not that you are unwelcome, Parvati -- it's that all of us have times we wish we had listened. We call it the Hotel California effect -- you know the song, I'm sure. You can check out, but you can never leave."

He hitches a shoulder. "I did try. I went home to Denmark. The Veil sent someone to get me -- baited me with the possibility of falling in love with a woman here. And I came back, because of course I did."

"The Veil? It has something to do with this.. glimmer?" Parvati asks, her hand tipping slightly as she looks over to Ravn. "The Chief of Police mentioned it. Said I.. had this Glimmer." she continues. "I do not know what he means, or what this Veil is." she continues. "Unless veils are coming back into fashion this spring- which may be something I try to push." she offers with a playful grin.

Ravn chuckles at the pun. "While I'll buy a front row seat for the show -- no, it's not the Dance of the Seven Veil. The Veil is how we describe the fabric between realities, the stuff that usually makes the world make sense. You know that mermaids are stories, fantasies, inspired by dugongs and harbour seals. Here? They're real, and they will lure you to sea to eat if you're not careful."

He looks back at Parvati again. "The Glimmer is -- well, you might call it magic or super powers or anything else that makes sense to you. Some people are highly skilled. Others, not so much. Me, I can pretty much only do one thing. But I can show you that one thing, and you can tell me if it's simply a nice little trick and I'm taking the piss."

He picks up another pebble -- a random one, it seems, white and blue. He holds it on a palm -- and then turns his palm over. The pebble drops.

Some ten or twenty centimetres. Then it just kind of hangs there, in the air.

"It's hardly impressive, but, well, few things I do are impressive."

Parvati blinks. And then she blinks a second time- staring at the pebble hanging in the air after all that long explanation. She kneels- waving a hand around the pebble- checking for strings or any kind of logical why this rock is betraying gravity like it is. After a moment she- very carefully- reaches out with thumb and forefinger to give the pebble a gentle tug. To see if it's actually got something around it she can't otherwise sense- eyebrows furrowed as she explores this strangeness.

It's not difficult to move. The pebble falls into the fashionista's hand as she tries to grasp it -- and Ravn sticks his own hand back in his pocket. "It's not a trick. Or, well, it is, but it's a trick of the mind -- not of strings and lights and mirrors. I can do those as well, but, not with any random pebble picked off any random spot on the beach. Feel free to pick one if you like."

He offers a small, lopsided smile, almost apologetic. "I know how crazy it sounds. I've been exactly where you are now -- most of us have. And if you visit the camp of homeless under the boardwalk, well, Gray Harbor has no shortage of supposedly crazy people telling you about mermaids, and tall men in the dark, and aliens, and giant man-eating cats -- the list is endless. It's just that here, most of those things are true insofar that it's very easy to fall into another reality where they are true."

Again, Parvati's eyebrows knit together. A frown on her lips as she slowly stands. "Odd." she says simply, "It's all very odd, isn't it?" she takes a slow breath- that frown still on her lips as she turns again towards Ravn. She knows what she just saw- the pebble is still in her hand. She slides it into her pocket, and shakes her head again. "I don't really know what to make of this." she admits, because it doesn't make any sense- there is no rational way that this happened.

Parvati then bows her head to Ravn. "If you'll excuse me. I think it's time for me to get back to work on my shop, and my apartment." She begins to walk then- somehow keeping her balance on the rocky shore while in heels.

The Dane falls into stride. Long enough, at least, to say, "Give me your cell number, I'll text you mine. In case something happens or you have questions."

He dips into a pocket and then offers over a horror of design: A phone case in bright sparkly pink, with a Hello Kitty stencil. "I'm not a stalker. You may need to call somebody."

Parvati pauses a moment. "Very well." she says, giving her number over to Ravn. "I prize my privacy." she informs the man, "I will beat you within an inch of your life if you disturb it." There is something about her tone that tells she's very confident she could make good on that promise.

"Thank you." Parvati offers then, before she continues on her way off the beach.