2022-05-08 - On The Dock Of The Bay

He's lucky that there are a few open slips near his own little sailboat. It's a golden late afternoon, and Joe's seated comfortably in a canvas camp chair, facing out over the open harbor. Fishing idly, no doubt mostly as an excuse to spend time lounging by the water; he reels in and casts only rarely, mostly content to let the bait dangle as the little wavelets lap against the piers of the dock.

At least the weather is nice! Perhaps that explains one particular young man who wanders along, meandering apparently without purpose. Eventually, his feet take him up onto the dock, though he isn't carrying any supplies for fishing and he doesn't look like any sort of sailor. With his hands tucked into the pockets of his light jacket, he makes his way idly to the end of the dock, stares out over the empty water with a faintly annoyed look. Like the harbor did something to offend him.

At first glance, the fisherman might be oblivious. There's the click of the reel as he brings in the hook, lifts it from the water to check that the bait is still there. After a moment, though, he wonders in a drawl that's vastly out of place on the Pacific coast, "Somethin' the matter?" No greeting or preamble, as if he had every right to ask.

Robin gives a little glance toward the fisherman, followed by a quick once-over. After a long pause to take him in, the younger man shakes his head a little and looks back out at the harbor. "I was looking for a lost wedding ring," he admits. "Turns out it's out there." He gives a jerk of his head toward the harbor. "Trying to decide if it's worth trying to retrieve it, or if I should just tell them to hire a diving crew or something."

This revelation doesn't seem to surprise Joe, but he turns in his seat to give Robin a closer look. He blinks at him a moment, and then nods. "How would you try to retrieve it? You a diver?" Curiosity in the blue eyes, for all that he's got that almost sleepy languor to his movement.

The question is met with an evasive one-shouldered shrug. "Same way I retrieve anything, I guess." He gives the fisherman another speculative look, and finally finishes, "Not a diver, no. Normally I'd have my ways, but it's way out there. Anyway, screw it. It'll cost more to hire a boat than they're offering to pay. Guess they'll have to go after it themselves."

"They will pay you for just giving them the location?" Joe inquires. "I mean, they aren't gonna stiff ya when you say it's somewhere you can't reach?" A beat, and he adds, "Not to pry, but how much are they offering?" The rod rests forgotten against his hand....and recalling it, he reels it in entirely and sets it in a holder on the side of the chair. Apparently this discussion has piqued his curiosity into ignoring it for the moment.

Robin snorts faintly. "I mean. I'm not going to make them pay me if all I can tell them is that it's in the harbor." Still, he's not exactly retreating from the edge of the dock, peering out at the waters. The question earns Joe a slightly more suspicious look. Just an edge of skepticism, really, before he explains, "I don't have any money on me right /now/. But they'll pay me a few hundred bucks if I can bring it to them."

"Of course," Joe agrees, tone almost airy. "Yeah, I don't suppose that'd be fair. I can take you out on the water, but the harbor gets pretty deep pretty fast. And even if I did, how'd you get down there to get it? Not scuba certified, are you?"

He leans down to snag a bottle of cider that's been sitting by his foot, takes a leisurely pull from it, and wipes his mouth with the back of a hand.

Robin rolls his eyes a little at Joe's tone. "No, not scuba certified, but I might be able to reach it. How deep exactly, do you think? On average, I mean. And what do you charge?" He leans just slightly toward the edge of the dock, peering down at the water with a little frown. "You're not a secret murderer or something, are you?" he asks, in a surprisingly casual tone, but without quite looking directly at Joe.

The bottle clinks softly as he sets it back down. "One sec, lemme double check," Joe says, as he fishes a phone out of his pocket. He fiddles with it a little and says, "Well, a lot of it is relatively shallow. Not as bad as I thought. Fifteen to twenty feet, except in some of the channels, where it gets to about thirty. Shallower around the edges, only a few yards deep." He glances up from the phone. "Where're you thinkin' it is?"

The first question has him shrugging. "I don't have a set rate, I don't usually do charters." He nods at a trim little sailboat, white with a stripe of blue on her hull.

The second,however, makes his brows climb, even as he presses his lips together as if suppressing a smile. "Would I admit it if I were? I have killed people before, but only in the service of the US military. It's not a hobby."

"Probably not, but I'd know if you were lying." So he claims. "Thanks for your service. Sorry I called you a murderer before." Robin gives a crooked little grin as he looks back at Joe. "Twenty feet to grab a dinky little wedding ring? That's nothing. It's just pretty far out there is all." He waves his hand in a general 'thataway' direction. "Hard to be specific from here. But it's out there. Too far to reach from here, anyway."

The grin breaks through, a curl of one corner of his mouth. "No, thank you," Joe retorts. "I got to live the dream for more'n twentyfive years at the expense of the American tax payer. I was havin' a great time the whole while. Apology accepted."

His gaze follows Robin's in the direction of that gaze. "Mmhm," he agrees. "What's your range?" Assuming Robin's calculated it.

Robin gets a slightly mischievous tilt to his grin. "Bold of you to assume I pay taxes." The question of his range gives him pause, and he finally lifts a shoulder. "I mean, I've never took a tape measure to it or anything. Once I grabbed something off the street from the top of a twelve-story building? Pretty sure it was twelve, anyway. I guess that's probably the farthest I've ever gone so far."

He laughs, a little ruefully, looking back to Robin. "Fair enough. But in all seriousness, I got the better end of that deal. So I never know what to really say when people thank me for my service."

Joe clicks his tongue at that. "You're a strong one, then. D'you know a guy named Rosencrantz? Tall, skinny, lots of tattoos, big nose. If you haven't met him, I should introduce y'all. He's a hell of a mover."

"It's just stuff people say," Robin advises, helpfully. "Just say you're welcome or some shit." He leaves it at that, because the idea that he's actually strong seems to please him. "Am I? I mean, I'm kind of new here, so probably not. Is he friends with fairies or whatever? Cause I'm not down with those shadow creatures."

"I...fair enough. But it's like '...I didn't do it for y'all. I did it for myself.'" Joe shrugs, spreads tattooed hands. "I thought you might be. New, I mean. Got here a few years ago now. Itz? Not that I know. He's strong enough that he's someone you want with you if you do cross over to the other side...but he ain't friends with any of those things." There's the faintest shiver at the thought, though the afternoon sunlight is warm enough.

Robin gives Joe a mildly perplexed look. "Pretty sure it's just one of those conversation scripts." He squints out at the harbor, frowning faintly, then returns his attention to Joe. "I try to avoid crossing over as much as possible. But so long as he's not friends with them, I'd like to meet him. It'd be cool to compare notes."

Charity strolls along the shoreline, sandals gripped in one hand, as she glances from the water to inland and back. Dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a lavender V-neck jersey, she constantly fights with the wind as it keeps wanting to blow her hair into her face. Closing in on the docks, she takes a moment to admire the boats rocking in their slips, a slightly amused smirk spreading across her face.

There's a tip of the head, not quite a nod. He knows he's sticking a point on something that's essentially pointless. "Yeah, same here," Joe allows. "I'm not strong enough to get the hell back out in any useful way. No.....I think some of them like him, but not because he's buddy-buddy with them. The creatures of the Other Side have always loved musicians, if the stories are true, and he's a good one."

He's sitting in a folding camp chair on the edge of the dock, a little ways along it, conversing with Robin. There's a fishing rod propped upright against a pier by him, and a bucket off to one side. Not that he seems to have caught anything, yet.

When you spent so much of your life making a career out of working out, there's no way you'll stop just because you had to retire. And so Jonathan has made his way out for a run, first moving along the beach and then to the docks, his running slowing down as he keeps his movement going in the general direction of where the people are, although he hasn't noticed them yet.

laughs and will fix her pose

"It's not a good thing if they like you," Robin points out, with a certain grim solemnity. "Better if they don't care one way or the other." But he shakes off the topic with a little shudder. "Listen, were you serious about taking me out there? It'd really help me out a lot."

The fisherman's long face is solemn. "That's very true," he allows. "He saved me from this bear monster over there one time. Luckily for us, thing liked music. But I don't think I'd want a fan like that waiting for me to demand another performance." He shakes his head - more trying to suppress a shiver of his own than anything else.

There's a lazy little shrug. "Sure, I can do it. Not like I don't do it all the damn time on my own. I'm retired, I set my own schedule. Ten bucks for gas, that sound good?"

Charity's gaze sweeps away from the boats to the dock itself and the people enjoying a bit of late day fishing. Moving again, she leaves the soft earth of the shoreline and steps onto the wooden planks, stopping for a moment to slip her sandals back on her feet. While bent over to brush off her soles, she peers at the upside-down jogger (Jonathan) heading her way. When she stands back upright, she leans a bit to the side to look behind him, as if to make sure his running isn't from something. After all, animal attacks in these parts can be a real thing.

Willow was feeling restless so she decided to go for a walk to explore the town, she can't stay cooped up inside all day, just because something, she doesn't believe is going to happen, might happen. Her soft steps bring her onto the dock and she looks around, the poor woman looking lost. The cigarette she was smoking is dropped to the ground and stepped on before she continues her steps, now going towards the sound of those who are talking. She gets close enough to hear Bear Monster and she smirks, speaking up once close enough, "Bear monster? Really?" Yup, she just put herself right in their conversation, how nice of her.

The brisk weather's blown in a few smaller craft that'd much rather be out on the water, and a couple of gulls fighting the chop. It's also blown in one (1) police Chief, huddled into his usual battered leather jacket and snug fitting black jeans, about halfway through a cigarette as he ambles along the dock.

Thankfully, Jonathan isn't really running away from anything. At least nothing physical. As he starts reaching more crowded areas, he slowls down, reaching to water bottle carried in a belt to take a few sips. Charity is offered a smile and a nod, before he glances around again. "A good day for a bit of a run," he offers.

It's spring! That means half the population is living on or near a boat. A tall, beaky guy comes swaggering along the dock, aiming for Joe. His roll slows not at all as he comes up... no, wait, it is a little slowed when he spots the Chief. He gives his head a toss and sucks in a breath and okay roll resumed.

Robin winces a little. "Bear monster. That sounds like a rough one." Luckily, the offer comes next and his face brightens tremendously. "Seriously? It's a deal, then. When do you want to... go..." Even as he's speaking, he glances up as Willow approaches, brows lifting. Once he's recovered from the slight surprise, he corrects her. "Not real. Bear monsters don't exist, but you'd be surprised how often imaginary things can hurt you."

Charity's interjection has Joe turning that guileless blue gaze her way. "Yep," he says, pleasantly. He tilts his head to eye her. "I'm guessin' you've never been past the Veil?" He's got a slow southern drawl that belongs to the opposite coast - somewhere in the Low Country, perhaps.

Then his gaze shifts past her to some of the others approaching, and he grins, brightly. "Javier, hello," he says to Ruiz, beckoning with a tattooed hand. And "Speak of the devil, I was just talkin' about you, Rosencrantz."

Robin's assertion has him looking back at the younger man. "Tomorrow sound good?" he offers, before noting, "'round here they sure as hell are real. Things don't always stay neatly on the Other Side. It's a curtain, not a wall."

A smirk spreads across Charity's face as a single brow arches over a green eye. "If you say so. Personally, the only time I'm running is if I'm being chased. By something more ferocious than me." She holds up one hand to show Jonathan five fingers capped with colorful, if extremely unimpressive, nails. "Don't let their short and round nature fool you. These things are weapons capable of inflicting lethal damage on oranges and wrapped packages."

Turning her head, she looks at Joseph and gives her head a tiny shake. Something in her eyes shifts from amusement to concern. "I have not, actually. Just got back into town after an extended departure." She glances at the other's to whom Joseph addresses before turning back to him. "Sounds like we've missed a few things in the intervening years."

A single eyebrow raises, she thought as much, are all the stories she heard about this place just that, stories. Not voicing any more questions, she chooses to listen, quietly, though the other people who decide to join the dock get a warm smile and she walks a little further down, finding a place for herself to sit down so she can listen, observe, but believe, maybe not.

Cigarette scissored between two fingers, Javier bends to scoop up a glossy rock from the sand without breaking his stride. It's added to a pile he's got going in his left hand. "Hola," he greets the Georgian, dark eyes sliding over Itzhak and then one or two of the other unfamiliar faces before he squints out over the water.

Then, coming to a halt not too far from the older man, he drags off his smoke once more and selects one of the round, flat rocks he's collected.. before whipping it out toward the water. He's got a pretty good arm on him, but it's been a while since he's tried to skip a rock.

There's a lot of people here Itzhak doesn't know, but he just keeps going, to offer Joe a book. "Finished it. Need the next one." It says Master and Commander on it and a picture of a tall ship. "Yeah?" he fires back promptly to the news that Joe was talking about him. "Anything good?"

He looks at Robin, at Willow and Charity, and upnods, loitering like a professional loiterer. "How's by yas." Ruiz is finding a rock to skip and Itzhak is watching him out of the corner of his eye.

"Ah, but not everything chasing you can be seen," Jonathan offers in return to Charity, along with a brief grin, before he adds, "And those poor oranges, getting torn up by such claws." It's offered lightly and with a bit of a smile, before he adds, "But mostly, the running and other kinds of workouts have become a habit. After all, that's how I got out of here for a while." He pauses at the talk of the veil -related talk, a brief grimace there, which he tries to hide by looking around. When he sees Willow, he offers her a nod and a smile.

"Yeah, keep talking like that," Robin retorts, with a distinctly uncomfortable shift of his weight and glance to the side. "That's a great way to bring 'em out." In fact, he seems absolutely relieved to change the topic when the aforementioned Rosencrantz shows up, which really goes a long way to covering a slight surprise at the look of the fellow. "Oh, hey. I'm Robin Fletcher." He sticks his hand out toward Itzhak, offering a quick handshake. "I hear we've got some things in common."

Willow gets a little nod, but Joe doesn't introduce himself, not yet. Ruiz, though, gets a tolerant grin...though it turns into genuine surprise. "I don't think I've seen you do that in years," he says, fondly.
He's glancing between Itzhak and Ruiz, before settling on the former with brows raised promptingly. It seems their little tryst at the Pourhouse didn't entirely seal the breach.

He finally pries himself out of the chair to go to take the book. Not quite as tall as Itzhak, but tall. "I thought you'd like it. I'll lend you the next two, the pace really starts to pick up, you'll wanna tear through 'em."

A pause, and he says, "Of course. Praisin' your skills as both a musician and a traveller on the other side. Tellin' the young man here how you saved my ass from that bear thing." There's a moment of faint confusion, and he adds to Robin, "Glad to meet you, Fletcher. I'm Joe Cavanaugh, this is Itzhak Rosencrantz, and that guy there is Javier de la Vega."

On to the others. "You I know I know. Jonathan, right?" Joe asks, before giving the newcomers that apologetic glance. "Well, I don't know that naming calls," he says, slowly. "Not that I ever heard. Hell, I don't know that damn thing's name, it didn't introduce itself."

Charity returns Itzhak's upnod, tossing in a three-cornered smirk. Then she looks back to Jonathan. "True. But if you were running from something invisible, then there'd still be panic on your face. There wasn't just in case you were wondering." She glances at her fingers again and nods before lowering her hand. "Well sometimes the peels are thicker than I can get into. That's when I break out a knife. And how far out did you get before you got sucked back here again?"

Listening to Joseph at the same time, she picks up on the names being tossed about, green eyes dancing around to try an commit a title with a face. Then she glances back to Johnathan. "Jonathan? Not Jon? Or Johnny?" There is a light teasing lilt to her voice and her grin widens just a bit.

Willow notices Jonathan, the wheels in her head working, right, karaoke. She smiles a bit more warmly, though looks back to Robin, "Sorry, I have to ask." She looks between Robin and Joseph, and then to the rest of the group "I've been here for, mmm, a few days now, I haven't seen anything, at least not anything that I can chalk up to supernatural, are you saying all the stories are real?" Maybe she just hasn't been paying attention.

The first rock's a flop, plunging in noisily and startling some gull looking for its dinner. The second makes a single skip before sliding beneath the water, and the third manages two hops before meeting a similar fate. Javier shoves the rest into his pocket, and looks over when his name's invoked.

Robin gets a slow crawl of his dark eyes in a thoughtful once-over, followed by a murmured, "Hey." And then, hands jammed into his jacket pockets, the cop's easing in a little closer. No attempt to address the others, though; sometimes the finer points of social etiquette still elude him.

Itzhak shakes Robin's hand with his own knuckly paw. It's a calloused hand decorated with faded knuckle tattoos. "What's up. Yeah, kinda seems like we do," as his gray hazel eyes unfocus for a moment and he pauses, tipping his head to one side as if he hears something. Then, refocusing, "Ya new. Youse guys all new?"

He wrinkles his huge crooked nose at Joe, then, in a 'noneya' kinda look. Even though it's totally hisya. When Ruiz sort of eases closer, Itzhak rests his weight on his back leg and shifts towards him, without any sense of conscious movement.

"Good to know that I didn't have panic on my face," Jonathan replies lightly at Charity's words, before he shrugs a little. "Ah, here and there. Seattle, Anchorage, Grand Rapids, Detroit. With lots of visits to various ice rinks around in between," he replies, before he nods at Joseph's words, "That's me, yes," he offers along with a smile, and then a chuckle at Charity's words, "Well, those shorter versions of the name has been known to be used from time to time too," he offers. Willow' question makes him glance around, before he lets out a breath. "Depends on the stories, probably. But yes, some things are quite real."

Robin does do his best to follow all these introductions, making eye contact with each, at least insomuch as they are looking his way, with a friendly nod of acknowledgement. His attention focuses in on Itzhak, his own head tilting but his looks a bit more like a puzzled dog. "Bit new to town, yeah. We should talk." Does he pick up on the slight drifting together of Itzhak and Ruiz? Maybe! If so, he's quickly distracted with a glance toward Willow, quickly shifting to a worried frown. "For now, I gotta...go." He fumbles into his back pocket, produces an only slightly worn business card that very much looks like it was homemade at the library, and passes it to Itzhak. He tosses a grin toward Joseph. "Tomorrow, right? I'll meet you back here."

"I don't know about all, but definitely enough," Joe asserts, without a moment's hesitation. "Didn't believe it myself 'til I got here."

He's turning the book over in his hand, as he edges a little closer to Ruiz himself. He gives the cop a sidelong glance, but adds to Itz, "I'm glad you liked it. I thought you would. His style's a bit hard to get used to, but once you do, he'll hook you. Got the others on the boat, I'll get 'em for you in a sec."

He smirks back at Robin. "I'll see you here. One o'clock or so. That'll give us time. You take care, Fletcher."

Charity inclines her head slightly, regarding Jonathan for a moment before speaking. "Hockey? Or figure skater? I'm guessing the former, though I wouldn't rule out your ability to perform a triple axel." Then she glances over at the redheaded girl. "Lots of odd things around this town. Just because you haven't seen them yet doesn't mean they're not there. Or that they haven't seen you." She then lifts her shoulders and lets them drop. "The things I saw as a child could just have easily been a hallucination. Guess I won't know for sure until we've been here a while longer."

Robin's seemingly hasty departure does not go unnoticed. Though it's possible he just realized a sudden urge to eat pineapple rather than anything more ominous. Turning back to Jonathan, she smiles. "How was Detroit? That one and Anchorage are the only two I've not visited at some point."

Willows hmmms softly and shrugs, alright, that amounted to nothing. She stands back up, slips a cigarette between her lips, and starts walking back down the path, continuing her exploring of the town.

Does Itzhak have any sense he may be driving Robin off? Probably not. He just accepts the card and salutes the young guy with it with a sardonic twist of his mouth. We who are about to die, etc. "Give you a ring. Take it easy out there, yeah?"

He really has an accent that could power wash the dock. New York, obvious to any American.

Then he's looking at Willow and Charity and Jonathan, but he doesn't chime in on whether the stories are true. Maybe he figures they'll find out soon enough.

There's books being exchanged and library cards being exchanged and suddenly this is looking like some kind of nerd congregation that nobody warned Javier about. "What the fuck was all that?" he mumbles to Joe, dragging off his cigarette as he watches Robin prepare to leave. And then Willow bails, too, and he watches her go like he's got half a mind to take a bite out of her.

Whoever or whatever is driving Robin off will have to remain a mystery, because he keeps a crystal-sharp smile in place. Perfectly friendly. "One o'clock," he repeats, with an easy thumbs up for Joe. "Nice to meet you." This directed at Itzhak specifically, then a glance around to include the other new faces. "All of you. Be careful, eh?" And off he goes, leaving the others to discuss what's real and what's not.

"Hockey, yes," Jonathan replies, with a brief smile. "Detroit was rather nice. Of course, when I was there was when I was at the highest point of my playing days. I really liked it there, back before..." He trails off, letting out a bit of a breath. "So, you've travelled quite a bit too, then?" Willow's departure makes him pause, although he offers a bit of a wave in her direction. There's a nod and a smile to the others as well, although the book makes him pause for a few moments. "Sounds like it's a good one, that book," he offers.

"From here, huh?" Joe wonders of Charity, idly. To Ruiz and Itz, he explains, "Kid's a finder. Only, what he's looking for is out in the bay. I'mma take him out on the boat tomorrow, see if he can drag it up - most of the channels aren't too deep, and he looks to be plenty strong." He shrugs. "Folks were kind to me when I first showed up here. Figured I'd pass it along."

Then he's turning the book to face Jonathan. "It is. It's the beginning of an excellent series. They made a movie out of some of 'em years ago, with Russell Crowe. Movie's good, too." Itz and Ruiz have heard him babbling on about both film and series before. Nerd, indeed.

Charity nods her head. "Yeah. Seattle, Portland, San Fran. I even once spent a month in Memphis. Though that's as far east as I've been." When Joe asks if she's from the town, she looks at him and nods. My family was here for generations. I left when I was twelve. First time being back since then." Turning her gaze to the water for a moment, she stares at the tranquil surface. "Any idea what it is he's looking to pull up? We used to hear spooky stories about what may or may not be under the water."

Itzhak tucks the card into a tight hip pocket. "Yeah, he's got it real strong," he mutters. "I was just givin' Cavanaugh his book back and here he is holdin' court." He looks at Charity, still poised like that, like he might surge into motion at any second, angled in a certain way towards Ruiz. "Why'd ya leave? Actually, better question, why'd you come back."

The elucidation makes Javier narrow his eyes thoughtfully, and cast his gaze out over the water. Another pull of his cigarette, and a lazy flick of his eyes to Itzhak when he asks that question. The same question any of them'd ask, if he hadn't gotten to it first. Why'd you come back? This shithole town, and what it does to people. It pulls them in, that's why.

It pulls them in, and it doesn't let go until it's ground them into dust.

He doesn't wait for the answer, but digs in his jacket for another rock, and lobs it out over the water and watches it plunge in.

Jonathan smiles, "I think some of my teammates once upon a time told me about those books. And the movie's quite nice, I remember that." He nods at what's said again, before he smiles at Charity's words, "Some interesting places there," he offers, before he looks a bit curious at Itzhak's questions as well.

The sailor looks faintly embarrassed, but admits, "That's where I got the name for my boat from." As an aside to Itzhak, he adds, "The Surprise doesn't show up until book three, but she ends up being just as much a character as any of the humans in it."

He flashes a grin at Jonathan. "Yeah, I love the movie." To Charity, "He's retrieving a lost wedding ring for someone. Can feel it, out in the bay." Still utterly matter of fact about all the weirdness of life in Gray Harbor.

Charity's gaze flicks over to Itzhak. "Well, funny story. It seems the government authorities, particularly Washington State Child Services, frowns upon pre-teen minors fending for themselves in this cruel world. They prefer we be taken care of by properly vetted adults." Her smirk widens. "As for why I came back, well as that ruby-slippered, witch-killer mused, there really is no place like home." She shrugs her shoulders and looks to the land opposite the water. "The question is, for me at least, is this still home. Do I still belong here?"

Turning her head to look at Joe, she gives him a moment of staring before her gaze lifts to travel back to the water. "Okay, that sounds like a really interesting trick."

Itzhak grunts. He eyes Charity for a moment, listening to her in the same way he listened to Robin. "Bet you're gonna find out before not too long."

Like a veteran, he talks.

"It is," he agrees about what kind of trick it is. "Pretty interesting. Me, I wouldn't go lookin'." Liar, he totally would.

He stretches out a hand to scissor his fingers suggestively at Javier's cigarette, lifting his eyebrows.

"At least that sounds like a less painful reason to return," Jonathan offers at Charity's words, along with a smile, before he pause at the mention of that lost wedding ring. There's a flash of something across his face very briefly before he nods slowly. "It does sound like a quite interesting trick, that's true."

Do I still belong here? Charity asks, and Javier scoffs. Audibly. Because his social filter's broken, and that's the sort of ass he is.

He glances over when Itzhak begs for a drag off his smoke. Watches him a beat or three, then holds it up like come and get it, then. "He ever consider hiring a guy with a fucking metal detector?" he asks Joe. "To look for his ring, I mean."

Joe spreads his hands. The three of them all have ink on their knuckles: words, symbols, signs. "He says he can do it. I'm willin' to let him try for the sake of things. Not like I'm not on the water most of the summer as it is," he says, mildly. "I couldn't do it, but I came late to all this stuff." As if the weirdness of Glimmer was a party he arrived at past the specified hour.

Itz gets a smirk. He knows precisely that, but doesn't protest. "Hell, I don't know. I assume the folks who hired Fletcher tried things the ordinary way. 'sides, that bay's got to be full of metal junk."

Charity smiles at Jonathan, though she does cut her eyes over at the scoffing. For a moment, it seems as if she might have something to say about it, but then nods her head in response to Joe's comment. "I wouldn't doubt it. I seem to recall my father mentioning that the water has a way of taking what it wants. Including a fair number of boats. Plus other things that ended up at the bottom. Intentional or not." Shoving her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, she turns back to the rest. "Guess he'll either come back with the ring, nothing at all, or something else entirely."

"It's funny how much it don't matter, when you know what you're looking for. Now there might be a ton of junk or ten feet of sea mud or whatever, you can't feel that until ya close enough, but the thing itself, you know." Itzhak shrugs with one shoulder and both eyebrows.

Come and get it? Well then. He steps close to Javier and turns his hand over, wiggling his fingers like give 'er over, a mischievious little smirk tugging one side of his mouth.

Well, what does he know about finding things? Javier makes a noncommittal grunt, but otherwise opts to stay out of the conversation. And watches as Itzhak approaches to borrow his cigarette. There's an answering smirk, slow, and the cop takes one more drag off the thing before allowing the taller man to relinquish it from his inked fingers.

Jonathan glances around for a few moments. "I suppose it's time to head home and grab a shower," he offers, before he adds, "It was nice to meet all of you." And with that, he's off.

Itzhak plucks the cigarette from Javier's fingers and takes an obnoxiously long drag. He's got his eyes on him, letting him watch him do it. Then he very graciously returns it, blowing the smoke into the air.

He nudges Joe. "Lemme get them books. Youse guys wanna get dinner?"

"Good to see you, man," Joe says, lifting a hand. Charity also gets a wave.

Then he's turning to the two who remain. "Here, help me get this crap onboard, and I'll get you the next few books." Though he seems quite prepared to drag rod and chair back over the gangway to the little boat by himself. "Dinner sounds great. Where y'all thinkin'?"