2022-03-21 - Connecting Threads

Espresso Yourself, casual home to half a dozen writers and other bookish people of Gray Harbor -- and of course, all the other kinds of people who tend to walk in and out of coffee shops. The coffee is all right, the wifi is free, and, let's face it -- the coffee shop is the main gossip hub of the town. This isn't just where people -- a specific kind of people -- go for coffee. They also go here to catch up with one another.

Make that, two specific kinds of people. The other kind wears sometimes very literal tinfoil hats. Which is probably why two girls in Uggs and sweater dresses, each with their laptop, are having a not as quiet as they intended discussion that is drawing a bit of attention.

"I'm telling you, I saw someone write on Friendzone about that explosion," one of them maintains, stubbornly. "It wasn't natural."

"You're a silly duck, Marjorie Peltham," says the other. "It was a gas leak. The Gazette said as much."

"The Gazette also says that a woman our age has twelve kids," the one whose name is apparently Marjorie points out. "If there was something in town targeting doctors, the press would be all over it."

This is about at the time Ravn Abildgaard walks in. He nods at the girls -- probably knows them from somewhere, maybe the community centre. He heads for the counter -- and then sighs. Oh yes. Della is on duty.

The manager smiles at him. Beatifically.

The bells above the door chime as Finch shoves her way inside. She has a backpack slung over one shoulder, and her arms wrapped around a thick book, the exhaustingly long title of which is Master the Public Safety Dispatcher/911 Operator Exam, Fourth Edition. The short, dark-haired woman is a local fixture, but she's been sticking to her job with Out on a Limb and doing repairs of her grandmother's house during her free time for many months.

Today she's emerged, like a surly butterfly from its cocoon, in search of coffee that she doesn't have to make for herself. The Chief of Police's erstwhile daughter slides into line behind poor, beleaguered Ravn.

Just behind Finch, and thus joining the queue in a way that sandwiches her between him and Ravn, is Mikaere: stranger in town, tall and dark, and currently sniffing the air in a way that suggests he's hopefully attempting to ascertain the quality of the coffee on offer. So far? Smells like coffee.

He does cast a glance towards the gossipers, though, because that sound carries-- and also? It's interesting, in a 'ok, things to pay attention to' kind of way. Mikaere's frown is a faint one, but definitely there.

Did Ava come in at the tail end of that gossip? She sure did. As the doctor in mention, she can't help but spare a little bit of amusement at the remarks. Teenagers are going to teenage, after all. Though she's standing in line behind Mikaere, the woman does lift a hand to press to her lips and clears her throat a little too loudly, and very pointedly, in the two girl's direction, while staring very pointedly at the back of their heads.

Her arms then fold over her chest, a brow arched. The expression? The Doctor whose orders you haven't been listening to and they have the test results to back it up.

Marjorie the teenager misses the cue. "All I'm saying is, my boyfriend says there's something being covered up. His cousin was one of the first firemen on the site, and he says there's something wrong with that building, and it's all very odd. They found a body in the basement, remember? And there are, like, bullet holes in the wall. And that crazy detective, Clayton, he's got an office there too. It's weird."

Her friend does catch Ava's look. She winces. "Marjorie --"

"And all I'm saying, like, is maybe that doctor was finding something out, and there's -- "

"Marjorie!"

"What?"

"She's standing right there." The friend's face is tomato red. This is so embarrassing. #WorstDayEver #Dying

Ravn can't help a chuckle. Several others can't, either. And even Della has to chuckle -- before she serves up a simple Almond Latte to the Dane. Her attention is elsewhere at the moment, come back for your regular abuse later.

Finch looks over at the gossiping girls with narrowed, dark eyes. She's got a worn canvas military jacket on because of the coolness of the day, with jeans, combat boots, and a black tee with white lettering which reads, "Como te?" beside a cartoon llama. She may have stolen it from her father. She smirks faintly and those who Glimmer can see she shines like the sun with power.

But so do others in line with her. She looks over her shoulder at Mikaere and past him at Ava. "Doc," she greets the woman. "I need to remember to schedule Gran's yearly with you. She's about due." She looks to Della with skim of the board behind her and orders a cherry vanilla frappe with extra whipped cream.

Teenagers are teenagers the world 'round, but they still make Mikaere smile. He, too, glances over his shoulders to regard Ava-- she's the centre of attention, today!-- and hesitates, just for a moment.

Ah yes. There's glimmer everywhere; duly noted.

"Gas leak, huh?" he wonders, beneath his breath, just moments after Finch's rather more prosaic greeting.

Whatever she might have been about to say is cut short as Finch interjects. Well that's so much better. Ava offers a nod, her face shifting from that Stern Doctor expression to something far more friendly. "Of course. It will be a couple of weeks, I'm afraid. As I'm sure you just heard, the clinic did a little bit of an exploding act. Here I thought it was a gas leak, having, you know, been caught in it and everything. But, apparently I was onto something. The gas was out to get me." Her eyes just sort of sparkle at that.

Poor Mikaere, trapped between Finch and Ava, glowy power on either side, trapped between two suns. "Mmmhmm, gas leak," she murmurs at his muttering. Though, his glimmer is noticed, so he gets a brief smirk at that.

"Oh, don't let me forget," she adds in Finch's direction. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about."

Ravn sighs (but not too loudly, because a latte is actually, you know, drinkable) and takes his drink, stepping aside to let Finch place her order. With an aside glance to Mikaere, he murmurs, "Welcome to Gray Harbor. This is normal around here."

"Oh my god," Marjorie says, with the eloquence of a teenage goldfish.

"I'm going to die now," her friend murmurs and turns yet a brighter shade of crimson.

"I'm not getting dragged into anything!" And just like that, Marjorie is on her feet and trying to literally pull her friend out of the coffee shop. Someone's in a hurry. Though from her expression, somebody expects the coffee shop to have an unfortunate 'gas leak' next.

Finch chuckles quietly at Ava's sarcasm. "People will just remember the gas leak in the long run," she murmurs in a tone of absolute certainty. She gives the doctor one of those knowing looks Gray Harbor natives who Glimmer seem to know how to give one another when discussing the "weird shit". Mikaere gets the same look. "Yep, gas leak."

A brow arches at the request. "Oh, well I can sit and chat for a bit right now. I'm just studying for an exam," she offers. She takes up her sugary frozen coffee concoction of the sort that would make Ravn break out in hives for it's coffee-to-everything-else ratio.

Mikaere's sun may not shine quite so brightly as Ava and Finch's, but he's a glimmering light nonetheless-- and not so green that he doesn't return Ava's smirk with one of his own, and then Finch too. "Gas leak, of course," he says, in that accent that is not local, but equally not necessarily immediate distinguishable. Australian, perhaps. South African. New Zealand. Maybe even English (but only if you really don't know accents at all). "Happens all the time."

Ravn-- well, okay, he's met Ravn, and that remark makes him laugh outright, and shake his head, but before he can add anything else, it's his turn to order, and: "Flat white, ay? Espresso, steamed milk, but no froth?"

Ava can't help but laugh as the girls hurry out of the coffee shop to avoid any further embarrassment. "Aww, but that was so fun," she murmurs. "I wanted to hear more about me." Those girls have no idea how close they were to actual truth, though. Which is why her eyes dart back towards Finch and her head bobs with a nod. "That would be great. I'll grab my drink and we can sit. Ravn, grab us a table if you'd be so kind?" she asks with a lash flutter that she already knows is useless on him, but is funny anyway.

"You'd be surprised how many gas leaks we have in this town." Offered to Mikaere before she glances at him again for a moment and takes in his Glimmer fully. "Mm, maybe you wouldn't." A chuckle before she's ordering. "Two large, black coffees, please."

"Might as well just come sit with the rest of us, Mr Kiwi." Ravn sets a course for a table by the window -- his usual, picked because it offers a good view of the street outside, but also because conversation from it does not echo to the entire room as long as one isn't shouting. Also, it's outside Della's earshot.

He turns a chair around and flops down on it, using the backrest as an elbow-rest. "Gas leaks, everywhere. Kinney said the same thing once or twice. Not about gas leaks. But about resistance."

Finch nods to Ava and she follows Ravn to a table with a slurp of her drink through the straw. She fwumps down into a chair and sets her book on the table and her backpack beside her on the floor. "Gas leaks, freak storms, wild animal invasions, etcetera etcetera and so forth."

"I'm intrigued, now-- I won't say no." That's for Ravn, and comes with a lopsided smile.

Happily, Mikaere's order was made without reference to the invention of the flat white (Kiwi, and not Australian or Italian or anything else damn it), and despite the explanation he offers with it, as if Della were stupid, he manages to get away with it: one flat white, coming right up.

"In my experience," Mikaere says by way of answer to Ava, "It's more often earthquakes. We have a lot of earthquakes."

Coffee in hand, he crosses towards Ravn and Finch, folding himself into one of the remaining seats with a curious glance from one to the other.

Two cups of coffee isn't unusual for Ava. Sometimes she gets a whole pot. But this time, she only needed the one. As she joins the group, the second cup is tucked out of sight, closer to Ravn, for him to sip from at his leisure. It's a dangerous game that Ava plays. But oh well. Her own cup is sipped from as she settles into her seat.

Since Ravn gave Mikaere the invite, that must mean that he's in the know enough to know which is good enough for her. "I'm Ava, by the way," she offers to the man before turning attention fully on Finch.

"The explosion," she murmurs very very quietly. "It happened because something was denying me access to higher levels of healing. It got so adamant at my attempts it crossed the Veil to leave a post it note saying 'Denied'.

Ravn quirks an eyebrow, and then nods. "Aidan's told me a few times to be careful because while he can patch people up from almost certain death in a pinch -- he can only do it every so often. That there's something pushing back, somehow. He also said it used to be easier."

That last comment comes with a glance towards Finch; the folklorist knows that the diminutive girl is a power house. He's still sitting on the urge to hum Everybody Walk the Dinosaur whenever he sees her because really, she has a dinosaur, and she walks it, and sometimes he still asks himself if he should be taking some kind of anti-psychotics.

Finch nods to Mikaere. "Finch Celaeno...er... de la Vega. Still not used to saying that," she offers as an introduction. Ava's words sober her quickly and she frowns sharply. "I haven't been using higher levels lately, just some low level mending of items around Gran's house. How much have you been using it. The more you use it, the more attention you draw from Them."

Hey Finch only walks her dinosaur on the other side of the Veil! Clever Girl doesn't come over to this side. She frowns at Ravn. "Yeah, it used to be way easier. But they got rid of a majorly bad spirit and he closed some kind of door on his way out. Since then we can't do nearly as much, or as often. But we haven't had backlash like the Doc is describing."

"Mikaere Hastings," offers the Kiwi by way of introduction to the two women, carefully exaggerating the sounds: mee-k-eye-rehh.

Introductions aside, he's listening intently, and with interest, to what Ava describes. "I don't have that kind of power," as opposed to that much power, "but my mum-- she's a healer, one of the best of the best, where I'm from. It's the other side of the world, but I can ask if she's experienced the same. It's the same... ārai. Uh - Veil. Presumably it works the same way."

"This was the first time I ever tried to use that level of power since I was younger. I don't believe in curing disease and stuff like that just willy nilly. It draws too much attention. Theirs, and publicly, I would imagine. That's how Faith healers become a thing, and that never works out well. This was just a special, one time thing for me." Ava frowns. "I tried, and instantly got pulled into a dream. There was a symphony. The conductor stopped the music, Rites of Spring, turned to me, said Denied."

Ava shakes her head. "I tried again, got sucked in again. There was another voice, saying that they didn't make the rules. There was this woman laughing. But it wasn't right. Like someone recorded a woman laughing and was playing it over and over, but couldn't get the recording to play right... you know? Asked me if that was the power I wanted? Then I got sucked back and the explosion happened." There's a little breath. All that was left behind was the Post-It."

"And a couple of broken elbows," Ravn murmurs wryly. "Namely, mine."

His elbows must be working fine now -- at least he's managing to hold that latte just fine. (And in a second, when Della looks away, he is totally going to swap it for Ava's second cup, too).

"I asked around a bit about it -- at the community centre. Talked to a couple of other people who have 'warm hands' -- you know the sort, every town has someone who does massages or turmeric tea or whatever, and somehow, it actually helps. Said the same thing -- it used to be easier, now it's harder. I didn't know about bad spirits, though. None of them mentioned that." The folklorist glances at Finch, with undisguised curiosity.

"Well that's not good, not good at all," Finch grumbles. "William Gohl. He was a serial killer here in the early 1900s. Ghost came back in 2019, possessed old Thomas Addington, killed like 9 people. They put him to his final rest and when he left, he closed some kind of door behind him and suddenly we were, uh, as the gamer bros say, nerfed."

It's a strange thing, to be so new to a place, and to be abruptly hearing some of the inner workings of it. Mikaere, though, is plainly not un used to hearing about this kind of oddness, though it sets a frown into his expression, and has him pausing over his hard-won flat white.

Beat. "Well, that's fucked," is his affable conclusion. "I wonder if that's the same everywhere. If what happens here impacts other people. I can ask."

Ava glances towards Mikaere with a nod. "That would actually be really good information to have, I think. If you don't mind, I would love to know." She pulls out one of her cards from her bag and hands it to him. "This has my cell on the back for emergencies. So just text or call me when you know? If you don't mind, of course." There's a thankful smile offered in advance of the information he might be able to offer.

A finger points at Ravn. "Hey. By the time you were aware, they weren't broken. So it doesn't count, right?" Someone still clearly feels very very guilty about that.

There's a glance towards Finch. "So you haven't noticed it yourself, then? Will you stay on the lookout? Let me know if you notice anything funny?"

"Gohl." Ravn nods and rolls his eyes at himself. "That bloke, a hundred years dead and still fucking people over even after he got killed the second time. I should have put that together on my own."

He glances at Mikaere. "Complete murderous nut job. Then came back as a ghost, still a complete murderous nut job. It's one of those things fresh enough in memory that the people who were there tend to not talk about it unless you all but shove them up against a wall. Most of what I know about it I got from Hyacinth Addington, but she was reluctant as hell and with good reason -- given it was her brothers that died."

"I'll definitely keep aware of it, and I'll pass it on to those I know who have access to that branch of our weirdness," Finch promises Ava. "If you need me, I work at Out on a Limb and anyone there can get you in touch with me." She rises, gathering her things before looking to the trio. "I'm going to head home and start spreading the word to a few people who are more inclined to use their abilities on the daily."

"If ma knows anything," Mikaere promises, accepting Ava's card with a charming smile, "I'll pass it along."

His gaze tracks after Finch, but it's to Ravn that he comments, "Well-- I'm not going to suggest that that's not, to be blunt, fucked up. The whole situation sounds messy. The dead are supposed to stay dead: pass through to the other side without incident."

"Thank you!" That's offered to Finch as she heads out the door. Ava lets out a breath before taking a long sip of her coffee. She savors it for a few moments before smirking faintly. "A lot of things are supposed to be a lot of ways, but they don't actually follow the rules they are supposed to here, I'm afraid. You might be kind of used to that, already, considering how in the know you seem to already be. Which is really good. But here? It's on a whole new level," she warns.

Ravn manages to not laugh into his sneakily acquired second hand black coffee. Give the man credit; at least he swallows before he chuckles. "If there's one thing the dead don't do in this town or any other place where the Veil is thin, it's stay dead. Bloody revolving door operation, sometimes."

He chuckles again. "And that's what I do. I don't heal people. I bend spoons and get talked at by the dead a lot. What happened at Ava's office worries me, though. Finch inadvertently touched in on something there -- when big names from the Other Side are involved, things go downhill, fast. And everything Ava described, from the director to the post-it note, hints that whatever happened wasn't just a force of nature that we don't understand."

Mikaere finally picks up a spoon so that he can stir it through his coffee, mixing steamed milk and coffee thoughtfully. "Auckland's not one of those places where the... ma would call it 'whakatīaho'. Thin spot, you said? That. But we have them, and I've experienced it. Ours tend to be in much smaller, more remote communities, though." So this is... new.

"It does sound like you hit on something," he agrees, turning dark-eyed glance from Ravn to Ava and back again. "And it doesn't sound great. There's a lot of people here to be impacted, if it's local. And if it's not..."

"If it's not just local, than this is a much bigger problem than I thought it was in the first place," Ava says with a heaving sigh. "I'll need a lot more help than I first thought. The power that I felt..." she shudders at the memory. "It's rare to feel so small and insignificant."

Gripping her coffee, Ava takes a long sip and forces the smile back on her face. "It doesn't matter. What matters is getting this fixed." Has she actually talked to anyone about what happened outside of 'getting things fixed'? Nope. Who needs therapy? Not this girl!

"Well, there are two ways to look at this, and they basically boil down to whether we think something is trying to protect us, or trying to keep our hands out of the cookie jar." Ravn hitches a shoulder lightly. "Dead serial killers need to stay gone. But the idea that something gets to decide what we -- or well, you -- can do does feel a little bit like waving a red flag at a bull. Let's be honest -- how many of us are going to take being treated like a toddler asking for ice cream and getting told to eat our vegetables instead very well?"

He looks at Ava. "I'm going to try to talk to more people who have the same kind of power. Might be you should as well."

And with an almost apologetic glance to Mikaere, the folklorist adds, "I really want to think we're not affecting the whole world. That's a profoundly frightening thought, that we should have that kind of power. But it has happened -- when one of these other side entities altered people's personal history, everyone bought it. Even people on the other side of the planet."

Mikaere sets his spoon down again (on a napkin; he's not a monster making messes for poor unsuspecting cafe workers), and nods, thoughtfully. "No one wants to feel like artificial restrictions are being placed on them," he confirms. "It's one thing to not have the power to do something; it's another entirely to be prevented from using power you know you have."

He picks up his cup, nodding again. "For your sake, I hope it's just local, too. It's just-- there may be lots of different points where the spirit world connects to ours this closely. But it's still one spirit world, isn't it? Just lots of different faces."

More quietly, to Ava: "If Ma knows anything, I'll get her to get touch directly. She knows what shes talking about, and she's... a good listener." He's seen that forced smile; and the solemnity in his expression is genuine.

Has Ravn ever actually seen Ava look irritated with him? Genuinely? Well now he has! A scowl drifts across her features, brows pulling down and irritation flooding her features. "What do you think I've been doing? That's the third person I've spoken to about this that I could get my hands on. I've put out feelers all over town. I'm doing everything I can while trying to get my clinic rebuilt, dealing with insurance, and handling job number one, as well. On a busted ankle."

Ava's tone doesn't really change much, despite the look. "But, at least the ankle is starting to feel better, which is fantastic." Another long sip of coffee as her attention moves to Mikaere again, expression evening out, even if her pulse is pounding in her ears. "Good listener?" That goes over her head. "Either way, it'd be good to talk to her, and hear from her directly if there are any effects elsewhere that we might not even be aware of here."

"We're in Gray Harbor. I tend to expect people to rationalise away doing anything because it was probably meant to be like that, and besides, they probably just imagined it." Ravn hitches a shoulder lightly, unruffled by the sharp look. "Glad to hear it, though. Let me know if I can help -- with the feelers, I don't know a lot about insurance. I'll tell Aidan you're looking for healers to talk to, but he is very busy. For what it's worth? I'm glad your ankle is better."

There's a sharply thoughtful glance from Mikaere in response to Ava, her exchange with Ravn, and her words to Mikaere himself. "Sometimes," he says, very lightly, "it's useful to talk to people who aren't directly involved. About experiences that were... a lot."

He's very clearly working hard to keep his voice absolutely neutral: perfectly calm, perfectly happy, no big deal. Lifting his coffee to his mouth for another sip is another good distraction (for him, if no one else).

"I'm glad your ankle is better too. I understand it's a massive pain not to be able to heal yourself, when you know you can heal other people."

"I've already spoken with Aidan," Ava adds with a sour look. "As well as with another Doctor in the hospital, Zara, who is another high level healer like myself. Her and I are going to see if her attempts at power use yield the same results at some point. We have to find a safe spot, however."

Mikaere's look doesn't go unnoticed by Ava, and by now she seems to be catching up what he's laying down, her shoulders rolling back. "I'm fine," is assured. "It's isn't talking to a stranger that would help. But thank you. I really do appreciate it. That you noticed at all is appreciated more than you know." Her eyes cast down to her ankle. "I had offers from others to heal it, honestly. But it was sort of my penance for getting someone I consider my friend, hurt."

"Well, I am no healer, and I sure as hell don't propose to tell a healer how to do their thing." Ravn sips his coffee. "However, if I may make a suggestion -- I don't know if there is such a thing as a genuinely safe spot. But there are spots that have no magic at all. Some people can create them for a while -- turn a room or a circle into completely dead areas. It might be worth considering teaming up with someone who can do something like that. Mostly in case something on the Other Side does in fact come calling -- you'll have a place to flee to, where it can't do anything you can't."

He too glances down. Then he decides to not comment on that part. Maybe it's a little complicated. Maybe this is not the time and place for a discussion about ethics for healers. Maybe even if it was, he'd be disqualified from participating given his idea of healing involves a bandaid and a sympathetic look.

Mikaere's nod accepts Ava's demurral, no worries: it's certainly not his place to tell someone 'go to therapy, dude', even if perhaps he'd like to. What he does say-- mild, very mild-- is, "In my experience, the guilt we place on ourselves mentally is a lot worse than any physical pain we could let ourselves have. But-- you know best, for yourself, of course. I'm a stranger, after all."

A thoughtful glance towards Ravn follows the Dane's suggestion; Mikaere dips his chin forward. "That's beyond my capabilities," he admits, "though I've seen it done. You need someone exceptionally strong in the-- ihomatua. The mental skills."

"Too true." Ava doesn't seem inclined to argue with Mikaere's assessment regarding guilt. Maybe she already knows that she's a hot mess underneath it all. But she accepts her messiness for the moment. If only it were as easy as going to therapy.

"That's not a bad idea," Ava relents, thought she's still not looking very pleased with Ravn at the moment in general. He really must have hurt her feelings some how. "I know a few people who might be able to help with that. Wouldn't be a bad idea. I'm kind of hoping that the Denial is just based on my powers alone. But I really don't think so."

Ravn shakes his head. "I think you're right about that. It's not just you. I didn't know that it all used to be easier until Aidan told me. I think -- maybe part of this place is that we get used to the status quo a little easily, sometimes. A little too used to just keeping our heads down, accepting that them's the rules. Only have to look at myself: I ended up just getting used to apparently being the ringleader of an underground lobster fighting scene, because it was easier and less awful than the alternative." He smiles, a little wryly. "Season starts on May 1, by the way. Bring your own butter."

He toys with the cup, tracing the rim with a gloved finger. If Ava's annoyance bothers him, he does not let it show. Maybe he is just that oblivious. "I do think we'll be able to find people who can do that dead zone thing. I know Hyacinth Addington could -- or can, wherever she is at the moment, won't help us. Kailey Holt might be able to."

Mikaere mouths it rather than says it: ringleader of an underground lobster fighting scene. That's... a new one.

He also doesn't ask. Maybe it's better not to.

"A place like this, there'll be people who can," he confirms, mildly. "Or that's my experience of it. I do think you're probably right, though: it seems unlikely for something like that to impact one person alone, particularly if you've not been actively bothering anyone on the regular. And if it used to be easier..."

Abruptly, he laughs. "All I wanted was someone to repair my boat, and now you've got me interested."

"Oh. That might have been all you wanted. But that's not what you were brought here for." Ava glances at Mikaere with a brief smile. It's a genuine one, dimples and all. "You shine like a lighthouse. They dragged you here on purpose. Sorry."

There's a brief chuckle. "You'll get your boat fixed. Hell, you can leave. But you'll end up right back here soon enough." His arm gets a gentle pat from the doctor. "It's the curse of the place. The draw of Gray Harbor. Welcome to your new home, man."

Eyes flicker towards Ravn again. "Kailey was my first thought, yeah."

Ravn can't resist a smile at Mikaere's chuckle. "Sorry. This town? It does that. You think you're just stopping for a coffee, maybe spending the night before moving on, and then you blink and realise you got a job and a place to stay, and you're probably not going anywhere at all. We call it the Hotel California effect. You can probably guess why."

He nods as Ava echoes that sentiment -- and then again as she agrees on Kailey being a place to start. "There are a couple of others. Chief de la Vega is insanely sharp with the whole empathy and psychometry thing. Might be he can do something like that as well. Never heard him mention it, but then, I suspect that the people who can tend to keep quiet about it, because nothing can be a red flag to the monsters like being able to literally shut the door in their faces, I reckon."

Mikaere's chuckle is low and amused. "You can be the one to tell my ma that," he says to Ava, grinning as she pats his arm. "Not to mention the US immigration department. I'm not sure 'the veil wants me to stay' is reason to give a man a working visa."

Beat. "'Hotel California effect', ha. I get it." Haha, very funny. Except it kind of really is.

"Oh, Kailey's the one from the other night. She does glow." The one who isn't Ravn's girlfriend, check.

"Nah. I won't bother the Chief with something like this. I'd rather go with someone I know and trust a little more, like Kailey. Plus, the little girl we're trying to heal will probably be far more comforted with Kailey's mom energy, anyway." Ava trusts Kailey, and that's what is important here. For this to work, and for the safety of that little girl more than anything.

"Don't worry. I can handle Immigration. That's part of my work here. Taking care of paperwork and dealing with the government side of things when they get too nosey about stuff. The Veil handles most of the work. But sometimes there's an agent or two that aren't fooled, so that's when I have to step in and fiddle about." Ava sips from her drink with a flat expression. It doesn't appear that she's kidding in any way. "I use it mostly to cover up the unusual death counts. But it comes in handy for other stuff, too. Like Immigration."

"As a matter of fact." Ravn can't help chuckle at Mikaere's comment. "You'd be surprised at how easy getting a visa is. The Veil wants you to stick around, things will happen. I have no qualifications that are considered particularly beneficial to the US. I work for an overseas employer. Should have had to jump through hoops to get a working visa, with no job, not even a promise of a job in the US. Wasn't an issue at all, no sir, would you like to extend it, sir?"

So he also has a good name and a good lawyer. No need to bring that up. Particularly not when Ava is right there, offering to put her also very good name and good skills to the man's aid.

"Kailey's a dragon," he says instead. "If I was a Veil monster thinking about harming a kid and she was around? I'd give very serious thought to taking up bonsai gardening or collecting stamps instead."

Mikaere's bushy eyebrows lift in surprise at the reassurances on the visa front from not one but both of his companions. "Well," he says. "That's good to know. I may end up bussing tables at one of your fine pubs yet," and no, the idea does not seem to thrill him, "but at least I'll be able to do so legally, it seems."

He doesn't comment further on Kailey, though he's clearly listening, dark eyes keeping both Ravn and Ava in view as he watches them over the rim of his cup.

"Mmhmm," Ava agrees on the matter of getting a Visa. "The Veil wants you here. It brought you here. It plans to keep you here. In order to do so, it's going to make it as easy as possible for you to stay. Which means an easy Visa. Plus, there's a few nice pubs to chose from, I'm sure you won't have any trouble."

The mention of Kailey being a dragon gets no disagreement from the Doctor. "When it comes to protecting a child, she's the one I want standing guard, above anyone else in this town," she states. "I trust her and her instincts. But I'm hoping what happened in the clinic won't happen again. I won't be the one using my powers. It will be Zara. IF something is to happen again, it will hopefully just be her getting Denied. I told her not to push beyond the first Denial like I did, since pushing is where the trouble started."

Ravn nods. "This sounds like a safe precaution. Also, two medical practitioners don't need me to mansplain not taking unnecessary risks to them. Keep me posted, though? There are a lot of people around here who need to know if something dramatic happens from using healing power too much."

A side glance to Mikaere. "If you end up at Two If By Sea, two bits of advice: Don't underestimate the power of the dark side when it comes to the men's room, that place deserves tough love with a flame thrower. And don't get too friendly with lonely looking blondes, they never actually just want to watch the stars and share a bottle of wine."

There's probably a story there. But not one that will be shared at the moment, it seems. The Dane pulls his chair out and stands. "I need to get back in front of my laptop -- expecting a student to call me and all that. Have you found a place to stay, Mikaere? While you're in town, I mean? If you haven't, come down by the community centre on Spruce -- we can put you up with a couch if nothing else."

It, abruptly, makes Mikaere laugh. "It's like I'm eighteen again," he says, by way of explanation. "Working in bars, with the offer of a couch to crash on. I'm good-- but thanks, man."

Whether blondes who aren't (just) interested in watching the stars over a bottle of wine are a bad thing-- well, that's harder to determine.

"I should get moving, too. I'm expecting an estimate on how long-- and how much-- it'll take to get my boat fixed. But it was good to meet you," Ava, "and good to see you again." Ravn. "If I hear anything from ma, I'll be in touch. Or she will."

Ava nods and waves a hand to both. "I assure you that we will be quite safe. But I'll let you know how things go, Ravn." That tone is still a little sharp. But he'll never notice.

"Mikaere, it's nice to have met you. I look forward to speak with your ma. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call that number, okay?" She's going to sit and relax a little while long, enjoying the quiet as she stares not-so-peacefully out the window with her thoughts.