2022-05-30 - The Root Of The Problem

It's morning. Not early morning, but early enough that there's still that patina of newness that one feels on a clear day by the sea. The water of the bay glitters in the sunlight, and the harbor is already busy with tourist boats coming and going.

Joe, however, doesn't look as if he's taking the Surprise out today. She's moored close in to the end of the dock, very nearly nearest the beach. The sailor shows no particular sign of wear or weariness, as he sits on the edge of her bow, feet dangling over, humming placidly as he patiently works on splicing line.

It's early, and it's kind of hard to tell if Ava has even slept yet. The woman isn't wearing her dress from the ball any longer, but some of the vines and flowers that were woven into her hair are still woven in. Though they certainly seem to have seen better days, crushed and broken throughout her hair and scattered here and there. Perhaps it just hasn't had a chance to all be detangled yet.

It was either the need for exercise or just the need for a stroll that took her out here, because either way, the coroner is dressed for it in a pair of ankle length yoga pants, and a zip up hoodie of the same, lycra fabric. Spotting Joe, a hand lifts in his direction, an easy smile marking her lips. "Long time no see," gets called out as she grows close enough to be heard without having to yell.

Morning means taking Sam out for a walk on those days she has off to herself. As such, there's Ariadne with the Windhound on the end of his jogging leash and harness. She's in black jogging sweatpants and a lightweight jacket of dayglo-yellow, a sports-bra beneath it in patterns of teal and purple. No need to overheat on a morning promising to be brighter in the later hours.

Samwise lifts his head and slows in his even-keeled pacing as he spots the human being on the end of the dock. Ariadne follows his sharp sighthound gaze -- ah, it's Joseph.

Thus, with a sigh and a detour, Sam leading the way with a slow wag of his white-feathered tail, she heads towards the dock in question. Someone else greets the man before she speaks up. Blearily, the barista peers in this direction -- it's Ava. Raising her voice for both to hear, the redhead with her celestial underpaneling of dye calls out, "Ahoy-ahoy."

Hey, it works as a greeting, right?

Joe looks up from his task, fingers still working as if by reflex. Whatever it is is finished, or finished enough to set aside for the moment. He rises a little stiffly, but other than that, there's no sign that the previous night took any toll.

"Hey, y'all," he says, brushing at the worn legs of his jeans. A grin for Ava, crooked as usual, before he lifts a hand to Ariadne. "Right on," he says to her, amused. "Y'all both up early, considering how hard you were partying last night." He sounds approving.

Ava glances back at the call from behind, expression brightening at the sight of Ariadne and Sam. "Hiya Ari. Hi Sam." She stoops to give Sam a proper greeting, like any true dog lover might. Eventually she rises back up, smirking back towards Joe.

"It's bold of you to assume that I have even began to sleep yet. Two Black Eyes down and I'm still wide awake, thank you very much. But when I do sleep, I imagine it will be a thing of wonder. At least twelve hours."

Ariadne seems decidedly more lackluster than usual. She's put together, yes, but there's light grey circles under her eyes as if she hadn't slept well.

"The sparkling wine didn't sit well with me. I guess it had more sulfates than my head could handle. I spent some of the night puking," she bluntly informs the others. Sam wanders around to her other side to sniff at one of the posts of the dock. "So no, not much sleep for me and coffee didn't exactly help. I probably need to go hide under a pillow for the rest of the day, honestly...but Sam needed a walk, so here we are."

That admission makes him purse his lips, eyes bright. "'s the way to do it," he agrees. "See dawn by just stayin' up all night," Presumably he didn't follow that course - he seems to have decent energy. "And I imagine so."

It's a far more sympathetic look that Joe turns on Ariadne. "It can get you like that," he agrees. "Matter of fact, hold on a second," He pads deftly along from the bow to the cockpit, and disappears through the cabin's hatch. Only gone a moment or two, and he's got a few things in hand. A green soda can, and a little box brightly colored with the green, gold, and black of the Jamaican flag. "Coffee isn't what you need," he confirms. "It does give you energy, but it can also dehydrate you further." Gauging the bob of the moored sailboat, he doesn't bother to put up the gangboard, but takes a big step over to end up on the dock proper. Then Joe's proffering box and can to the barista. "Real ginger ale, and ginger-mint tea. Best things I've ever found for upset stomach or hangover. Ginger ale's cold, give it a try."

"Yikes." Ava says Ariadne mentions throwing up. But it lacks the sympathetic tones it might usually carry. It's more of a statement than anything else. "I drank so hard that I spent the whole night throwing up once in college. Vowed never to do that again. I could have sworn I lost a lung that day," she snorts.

When Joe vanishes and returns with ginger ale and ginger-mint tea, her head bobs in agreement. "He's right. Ginger is great for an upset stomach. Water is good too. Even if it's bland as hell. If nothing else, it makes the throwing up a lot easier." There's a moment where she pauses, eyes lighting up. "Heh. Ginger for the ginger."

Ariadne does hold on a second while Joseph disappears into his boat. She glances over at Ava and winces.

"Yikes. God, no, it wasn't that bad, but I don't envy college-you at all. I don't remember ever pulling that stunt at U-Dub....close to it, but not all night." Because what's college but for studying and partying in the marine biologist's opinion? She finds Joseph as he appears again and when offered the can as well as box, she takes both with a mild and tired frown.

Of the boat owner's suggestions: "That makes sense in all cases," she mutters mostly to herself. The box of tea gets pocketed. "Thank you, Joe." Her gratitude is honest if wan. Ava's side pun makes the barista snort-laugh quietly to herself as she opens the can of ginger-ale -- hissclick.

"You're not wrong," she notes before sipping at the soda. A sigh. Yes, this was a good call indeed. "When are you intending to sleep again? No more coffee, right?" This question for Ava.

For his part, Joe keeps mum on the history of his drinking. But then....sailors are famed for that. He winces in sympathy, sucks a tooth. "College is sure good for that," he allows. A flicker of a grin for that joke, and a sidelong glance, but then he's looking at Ariadne.

"You're welcome," he says, as he holds out a hand to Sam. "No trouble at all. Broth is also good, toast and crackers. Stuff you can keep down easy. Been a long time since I got drunk enough to be sick, but I've dealt with a lot of cases of seasickness and motion sickness in others."

"I learned a hard lesson that day. I didn't drink much after that. I actually stopped drinking for a while outside of the occasional glass of wine. But then I got back to town recently and that just all got shot to hell. But I've been having a blast, so!" Ava gives a lazy shrug, grinning from ear to ear. Who cares, right? That's her motto this week.

To answer to Ariadne's question, her head shakes. "No more coffee. I just have to meet up with Deacon this morning, since I caught a ride home with someone else last night. But I figured that I'd go for a nice jog first and the beach seemed nice."

Her eyes slide towards Joe, head tilting. "A long time, huh? That sure sounds like a challenge to me. But maybe the worst challenge ever."

Someone addressing him? Sam lifts his triangle-flop ears and pads over to sniff at the offered fingers Joe holds out.

"That beach is nice for a jog, just enough resistance in the sandy spots to get the heart rate up. I mean, I won't be jogging there today, but more power to you," Ariadne lauds the other woman with a gesture towards the beach stretching out in question along the grey drift of bay-water. "I normally swing up and around past the Firefly Forest if I want some shade. It's nice, I recommend it." Another sip of the ginger ale, cold and crisp, and then she sighs, licking her lips.

"I bet I have broth somewhere...or I can text Ravn to bring me some. Crackers, I know I have, those...weird odds and ends you accumulate in the cupboards and fridge with weird hours. I'll be okay, I promise." She certainly sounds stubborn enough as she glances up at Joe and gives him another weak smile.

For a moment, Joe looks positively sly. "Let's just say it took me more'n a night to learn that lesson. But learn I did. Did a lot of hard livin' in my twenties, wised up by my thirties." A tip of his head at that. "Well, you're a grown-ass woman, not like you can't do just as you please. A challenge? Yeah, sounds like a bad one. I've got a tattoo as a result of making bad decisions while drinking, as a permanent reminder."

"Yeah, forest's edge is a nice walk in the day. Night-time, not so much." He stoops a little, to scratch delicately under the dog's chin. "Who's the best boy?" he coos at Sam, unashamed of the baby talk. Then, in a far more normal voice, "Good idea. You're with Abildgaard, I take it?" he wonders, sounding pleased. "He's good people."

The mention of the tattoo has Ava's eyes starting to scour. There's obviously the fingers, but there's a lot of Joe that's covered and always covered, so clearly it's all a guessing game. "What did you get?" It's wondered with glittering eyes and a big, curious smile.

"There's a great path through the forest, too. But folks rather avoid that one when they're alone for obvious reasons. The whole actual ghosts in there thing is a big deal. Also the almost getting kidnapped in there thing." Ava's hand wobbles around as if people are making a big deal out of nothing. There's much more interesting things, like relationship gossip.

"They are together." Her eyes slide to Ari, expression turning cheeky. "It's pretty much the cutest thing ever."

Chin scritchies go over well with the sighthound. Sam blinks and stands there to receive his due and the baby-talking too. Good human.

"Can't say I've ever gotten a tattoo while drunk," the barista muses quietly. "And nobody wise is in the forest after dark, honestly. But yeah, Ravn and I are a thing. He's good people, yeah...and he makes me happy. I guess I can't really ask for more than that in the long run. He seems happy too. It all bodes well, I think, but I'm also a little close to the situation." Holding up her thumb and pointer finger of her free hand, Ariadne pinches air between them and smirks to herself. Another sip of ginger ale seems to take more of the edge off of her mien as a whole.

He rolls up the sleeve of the blue workshirt, all the way to the elbow. The ink on his forearm is bright and vivid, as if touched up not too very long ago. Cyrillic print in scarlet and black, letters that aren't quite English: KOCMONAVT. Joe angles the arm so they can see it. "Didn't get it while drunk. Made a bet while drinking that I lost, and the forfeit was getting that tattoo," he explains.

Ava gets a sidelong glance, more thoughtful this time. "The forest is beautiful. But yeah, I've had enough bad experiences there..." He trails off, as if glad for that change of subject, and favors Ariadne with a benignant smile. "Good," he says, simply. "Wish y'all the best on that. This place drives people together, but for the most part, it seems to work." Nevermind his own strange little constellation of relationships.

Ava grins at Ari and the finger pinches. "You can be close to a situation and still be correct about it, I'd like to point out. He was a lot more comfortable last night with you there than I think he would have been otherwise, honestly. Plus, you dressed him perfectly. You're a great team." Or that's Ava's opinion at least.

Joe's glance her way gets a loft of a single brow, but the subject has changed, so there's no questioning it. Instead, she just peeks at the tattoo. Wait, hasn't she seen it before? "I think we might have talked about this before? Maybe over coffee? Apparently my memory is terrible right now." Hm. "But, you're right about driving people together. Folks you'd never think of approaching otherwise, sometimes."

Ariadne tilts her head when the tattoo is revealed. Her memory makes quick work of the Cyrillic word. "Huh. Cosmonaut." A quick grin at Joe. "I cheat a little bit there, given my mother's from Hungary. And thank you."

A glance over at Ava. "And thank you. It's good to hear sentiments echoed in somebody outside of the situation, y'know?" Sam, having padded back over, lifts his ears and looks beseechingly up at his human. "...Sam says I'm being boring and there's more to sniff. I should get going so I can hide under a pillow faster. Thanks again, Joe, for the stuff -- " Ginger ale can is lifted and tea in pocket is patted. " -- and I hope you get some rest eventually, Ava." A quirk of brows for the other woman. "Take it easy in the meantime."

With that, the barista and sighthound make their way back onto the turf and down the breezeway to finish out their walk.

"That's right, we did," Joe says, comfortably. That rolling up his sleeve also exposes the terrible scar there doesn't seem to register. "Yeah. Abildgaard describes it as one of the actual benefits of being here. The situation with the Veil drives those who shine together. We're stronger for it."

Then he's rolling down his sleeve again, flashing that grin at Ariadne. "Hope it does you good. I generally brew the tea double strength - two bags, then lots of honey or sugar, sometimes even the tiniest pinch of salt. Put an ice bag on your head if the headache gets real bad," he advises. A long hand lifted in farewell. "Same to ya."

Ava waves to Ariadne and Sam as they depart. "I'll get around to sleeping at some point, promise. I don't promise when. But eventually." It comes with a brief laughs as she watches them go for a moment before glancing back to Joe. "Now, I'd call that some doctorly advice. You clearly have yourself a PhD in hangover cures." Her smile goes lopsided at that.

Laughter for that assertion. "Well, learned from bitter experience," Joe notes, expression momentarily impish. "Sailors are hard drinkers, so you gotta learn the best possible ways to suppress a hangover before you have to go on duty," he explains. He's settling down carefully on the edge of the dock, again letting his feet dangle over the water. Something almost boyish about his posture. "How're you not sleepy? Too much caffeine last night?"

The impish expression earns a chuckle as Ava moves to settle nearby, gingerly settling onto the edge of the deck, her feet tucking to the side rather than underneath her. "I managed to keep myself busy last night," she offers with a sly smirk and a roll of one shoulder. "That plus the caffeine, plus meeting Deacon this morning, and I knew I wasn't going to get to sleep until later. If I did I wouldn't wake up for a very long time. Not that I'd mind but it'd throw stuff off and I'd never hear the end of it."

She glances at him. "You just slept and woke up fine and fit, huh? Like it was nothing?"

Joe listens, brows raised, in that way he has. No wincing at the shimmer of sunlight on the water, no shadows under the blue eyes, or pallor beneath the tan. Nodding along as she speaks. "More or less, yeah," he says, innocently. "That wasn't all that much in terms of my standards of liquor. I wasn't sober and I didn't ride home, but I wasn't really drunk, either. Had some of that tea and some aspirin when I got home," A jerk of his chin for the boat, "Showered, went to sleep, woke up okay."

"I think I really only saw you with the shots, so I have no idea how much else you might have had between when you got there and the balcony. If it was just the two, then I suppose I can understand that being child's play to an ex-sailor." Ava glances around him to the boat. "Your summer home, I gather? It's nice that it has a shower. I know Ravn's doesn't. He's always having to come back to his place on Oak, which is right next to mine, in order to grab his shower and exchange books and what have you."

"Still am a sailor," Joe corrects, with that lazy assurance. "Just not the Navy, any more." He leans back a little, settling his weight on his hands. "My home, period, until I got to Gray Harbor. Yeah, I wouldn't be able to deal with no shower." A moment, and he adds, "You know, might be Ravn could have one installed. I'm not familiar enough with his boat to know - should ask him about it."

Ava lifts her hands, palms forward. "My mistake, you're right. I meant it in the Navy fashion. Should have emphasized. You've been all kinds of sailing. Military, civilian, sky. Have you been Veil sailing yet? You could be a quadruple threat." Her grin is an easy as she glances out over the water. "What do you do when she's not able to be in the water now that you are in Gray Harbor?"

There's another glance towards the boat. "I bet he'd like that. I don't really know enough about boats to know if it'd be viable."

That idea clearly intrigues him, by the way he lifts his head from contemplation of the ripples against the dock's supports. "I've been past the Veil a few times,but never on the water," he admits. "An interesting idea, but fabulously dangerous. Passing the Veil on land is risky enough."

A little shrug for the question of what he does. "Winter....I hike where it's safe. Ride. I write, that's really my job now, and I get a lot done in that season. I don't dry dock her like Ravn does his, so I sleep aboard even in winter, when I feel like it."

Kicking a heel idly, "I will ask him about it. I'm sure he must've considered it more'n once. What about you, now? Now that you're settled in, how've you ended up?"

"I've been in Dreams plenty, but only past the Veil once. Ravn, Una and I went. We're going little by little in search of the City Hall on the Other Side. I have an open invitation to submit a complaint there, so I was technically invited." Which still doesn't make it sound like a great idea. "I bet sailing on those water would be crazy dangerous, and amazingly fun." Ava grins. "Fabulously dangerous is a great way to put it."

A brow lifts as she studies the boat more intensely now. "Wow. I didn't know that boats were warm enough that you could sleep on them in the Winter. But I suppose it makes sense if the sleeping quarters are under the boat area away from the wind and what have you."

"Me? I'm great. I didn't get an apartment, though. Ended up buying a darling house on Oak Avenue. Gave it, and a couple of houses next door these wonderful fairy tale gardens. Actual faeries from Ravn's faerie circle do the upkeep and they created an Eternal Summer in our yards, so at the moment we have our own little ecosystem. It's quite fascinating.

This time, there's a little frown knitting itself between his brows as he listens. "I'm not strong enough to get back out the way I came in, so I haven't tried it," Joe admits. "Sometime, maybe."

But the mention of the faeries has him looking intensely dubious. "That sounds like a bad idea. Things from across the Veil....that world is alien to ours, and inimical. No matter how cute or beautiful the manifestations are. There's a reason that faerie lore across the world is insistent that those folk are dangerous. The price you pay for that....it'll be far dearer than you know." His tone is calm, neither angry or fearful. "I don't like feeling like I'm the old man in some horror movie, croaking warnings at the teenagers who want to go explore the rundown house that's supposedly haunted." He takes a deep breath and sighs, "And I don't imagine you'll listen. But at least I did warn you."

"Ahh. I get it. You can move things, but not to that point." Ava nods her head in understanding. "Hell of an adventure if you're planning to sail the Veil seas for the rest of eternity and just get Lost. But if that's not what you're looking for, then probably go with Itzhak so that you can get back out. I'd say 'or Ravn', but he's still practicing."

Her smile turns crooked as she glances at Joe, gesturing towards his hand. "There's not nearly enough finger waggling going on. Plus you're missing the old lantern to hold up near your face to look all spooky." The normally stressed doctor doesn't seem to have a care in the world for the warnings. "I know," she offers instead. "They were bribing the faeries before I came along, though. For yard work. My yard just ended up getting added into it when I moved in. I pretty much assume everything I ever do will explode in my face at some point.

Joe's silent, for a little, after she finishes speaking. The breeze off the water stirs the silver-laced blond curls, makes the rigging of the boats whistle. "What do you mean, 'explode in your face'?" he asks, finally. His expression is calm, but there's something mask-like about it.

Ava tilts her head as she tries to figure out how to explain it. "Mmm. Like when I tried to see if I could help fix Ravn's neuropathy and my clinic exploded. Accidentally creating a Veil lifeform out of a seed." He might have heard the rumors about the blue baby. "Lots of little things here and there." He has her attention with the way his face is a little too calm and holding that way. "You look like you have something you want to say. Or ask. Or-- something. You don't have to be delicate, I'm a big girl."

"Always been that way, or just since you got to Gray Harbor?" Joe asks, quietly. "And got any reason why you are?" His body language is still relaxed, like they're just shooting the breeze on the dock, sharing local gossip. As if he were any other retired fool, pretending to be a sailor with his little boat.

"What? Always had stuff explode in my face? No, not really. It's..." Her eyes drift as Ava considers. "Have you ever been really really lonely? And you finally find a group of people where you fit, but you know you're on the outside, so you just try a little extra to do stuff to be helpful, to fit better? It's like every time I try to do something that might help, or do an experiment that might lead to something that will lead to cool stuff to bond over, or what have you.." she makes a gesture with her hands of something exploding in her face.

"What do you mean? Why I'm in Gray Harbor? I've been here my whole life. I've only left for college stuff. I've been gone the past two years for some certification stuff, and dealing with my mom's death. But, yeah, this is my home."

He gives an upnod for that, barely more than a jerk of his chin. "I know what that's like. But if that's what's happening, consider dialling it back. If you're trying too hard and it's consistently backfiring - you can't earn your way in like that."

He finally shifts back, drawing his legs up to sit cross-legged on the dock, leaning his back against one of the support posts. "Maybe it's 'cause you're from here and you're used to all the weird shit being like it is. Maybe you've had better experiences than I have..." That's a given. She didn't spend time in the Asylum being tormented. "It's just....you sound pretty blase about all of it."

Ava shifts that she can face him, giving a lazy shrug to the advice. It's good advice and she can't argue it. "You're right. Plus, quite frankly, a couple of them showed me yesterday exactly how little they actually care when it comes down to it. So I'm not sure I'd really want friends like that anyhow."

There's a laugh at the mention of her being blase, a breath expelled as she runs fingers through her hair. They catch on some of the vines and flowers she forgot were there, making her tug the hand out with a frown, shaking it. "Actually, I'm normally pretty high strung. I'm recently decided to try to let shit go for the sake of my sanity. It's a lot more freeing."

"Oh yeah? What happened there?" Joe wonders, quietly. Then he tilts her head. "I think you might've let things swing too far in the other direction. I'm not high strung, but every job I've had as an adult since I was old enough to drink has been extremely dangerous. You paid attention and took shit seriously, or you died. And maybe other people died, too."

Another pause, for a deep breath, to marshal his thoughts. "I can't save everyone in Gray Harbor from themselves. Not my job. But you're involved with someone I love. I know it's a casual thing and you're just fuckbuddies. But that still puts him in your blast radius, and that I do have a stake in. So maybe rethink being casual about the world of the Veil and the use of powers." All of that little speech delivered in an even tone, but that blue gaze never wavers from her face.

"As succinctly as possible? I grew this delicious Veil-Faerie fruits in my greenhouse. They weren't actually supposed to be fruit at all. They were kind of supposed to be flowers with these animals that came out of them. But I got fruit." Ava's eyes shine oddly at the mention of the fruit. "They are spectacular. Like nothing you've ever seen or smelled, or tasted before. I ran a bunch of tests, had them tested through all the power types, I even ate one of all the different types myself just to make sure there weren't any side effects. I couldn't help myself, they're just too good not to eat." She sighs softly. There's that look again.

"Anyway. Vyv came over to check on them because Veil fruit, you know? But he saw them and knew they couldn't be bad, too. Helped me make them into pastries for the ball. Everyone was loving them." Ava tilts her head back towards Joe. "Anyway. Jules ate one of the fruits the other day, and apparently everyone thinks the fruit has drugged her somehow. Which is ridiculous because there are no side effects, or I'd be suffering from one, right?" Obviously. Everyone was getting all angry and me, threatening, Dita even picked up all the pastries that were left with her Move abilities and dumped them in the trash, it was very impressive."

She's not being succinct at all. Ava waves a hand. "Anyway. Javi interjected and pointed out that it's likely /I/ am under the effect of the fruit, which again, is ridiculous, because there's no side effects." Uh huh. "But, if it were true, not a one of them cared." Her hands spread in a what-are-you-gonna-do gesture.

"As for Javi, noted." Her eyes linger on his, head bobbing in agreement. "I wouldn't want anything happening to him, anyway. I rather enjoy his company."

She chirrups on, and Joe's expression grows ever more aghast. He hasn't paled,but he's staring at her, lips parted, horrified. "Oh, dear God," he says, faintly. "You've been eating them? And you made them into food for that ball."

He's shaking his head. "Dita was right. Absolutely right. And that explains the way you're acting now. ....did you feed any of that stuff to Javier? Because he's right, you're clearly influenced by it. I'd wondered what you were on, but figured it wasn't really my business. Do you have more of the fruit still growing at home?"

Ava tilts her head. "Of course I've been eating them. They're yummy. I've had so many." Probably way too many given the state of her and the fact that she's trying to spread the fruit so much.

"On?" Owlish eyes look over towards him. "I'm not on anything. I don't really do drugs. I've done pot twice in my whole life." A strand of hair is twirled in her fingers as Ava considers. "Mmm, Javi ate some of a golden apple. But I finished it for him. He loved it so much, you should have seen how much he was smiling." Clearly that means it effected him at the time. "But he doesn't seem so fond of them now. He made me get rid of all the fruit in the house." There's a little pout at that.

But Joe asks the question that Javier didn't. Are they still growing? "Oh yeah. They grow super fast. There was only a couple seeds, but I keep getting tons of fruit from the plants."

That cheerful admission has him closing his eyes with the air of a man silently asking the Almighty for patience. "The fruit's affecting you like a drug. Your friends weren't wrong when they claimed that. I'm glad he did that, but it's clear you're gonna have to destroy the plants," Joe says, when he opens his eyes again. His tone is utterly flat. "Otherwise this is gonna keep happening, and it's clear that willpower isn't enough to resist it....and what it wants is that you keep spreading the fruit and spreading the addiction."

He pushes his fingers through his hair, leaving the curls in even more disarray. "Not to mention ....I imagine you want to keep from bein' run outta town for this." Then Joe's standing, offering her a hand. "C'mon. You and I are gonna go take care of this right now."

"Oh, they didn't claim that. They didn't care enough to," Ava reexplains. "That was Javi." His words make sense, but there's all of the push back in her head that's saying that it's just not right, because, "But there aren't any side effects. I'm fine. For once in my life I'm not stressed out about anything and it's amazing. So freeing." Why on earth would she want that to end?

There's a blink up towards Joe as he stands, her eyes moving from his face, to his hand and then back. She sighs eventually and takes the hand, standing up. "Why are the pretty ones so hard to say no to?"

"Honey, you're high as a kite," Joe insists. No longer angry, if indeed he ever was. Really, now he sounds resigned. "There are better methods of stress relief than eating goblin fruit. Ain't you ever read that poem?"

He snorts, as he helps her to her feet, relinquishing his grasp once he's sure she's stable. "I'll drive," he adds. "Last thing I need to see is you getting in a wreck." There's the thud of his boots on the boards of the dock, as he heads to the few parking spaces available near the beach.

"I most certainly am not. I think I would know if I were high." Clearly not. Though, the goblin fruit line does seem to earn Joe a laugh. "Stress relief from the fruit? It's because I decided to give up caring what people thought, and worry less, because it was killing me. I was miserable all the time. I haven't had a nightmare since I decided to give up on the stress. It's been such a relief, honestly." There's no argument on the driving, Ava just walking along behind him.

He shakes his head. "Nah. That might be a wise decision you take away from being high, but it's not that simple." They pace a few spaces along, and there's one that contains not a car, but something concealed under a gray cover, snapping in the wind. Joe yanks it off, inadvertently like a magician revealing the result of a trick. What's revealed is a sidecar motorcycle. It looks like something out of WW II, save that it's black, rather than olive drab.

He's folding the cover with the ease of long practice, nods at the sidecar. "There you go. Think you can get in without falling?" Even as he asks, he's opening a trunk at the back of the sidecar, behind the seat, and stuffing the folded cover in it.

"Well, we'll see if all this is still what you think when all the fruit is gone and I prove that I'm not under the effects of anything." Ava gives a solid nod of her head at that as if she's surely going to win that particular fight. The motorcycle is revealed a moment later, getting a lofted brow from the brunette as she steps back to admire it. "Oh, she's lovely. And surprisingly this will not be the first sidecar I've ridden in."

He gets a flat look a second later. "I'm not drunk, you know. I can get in just fine, thank you."

"Belonged to my ex-fiancee, had to have her shipped from Russia," Joe says, and there's a flatness in his voice again. "Glad you know what it's like to ride sidecar. Got goggles if you want 'em."

For his part, he's got a black full-face helmet, which he settles on his head once he's astride. The bike's motor has an odd rattly sound, neither the roar of a Harley nor the sewing-machine thrum of a BMW. "What's your address?" he asks, over the sound of it.

"Nah, I'll be fine without the goggles." Goggles require self preservation, of which Ava doesn't have much right now. She slips into the side car and settles herself down into a comfortable position. "One Oak Avenue. If you know Ravn's place, it's right next door."

She noticed the tone going flat, oh yes she did, so Ava's eyes have lifted to study his profile curious. "What happened? With the ex, I mean."

The visor's tipped down, before he answers. As if he's grateful for the concealment it offers. "She died before we could get married," he says, and then revs the engine.

The ride's smooth enough - despite that military build, the shocks are very good indeed. Ravn's place he does know, apparently, for there are no further questions as to the location.

"I'm sorry." For asking. For the loss. Both maybe. Either way, his face is hidden before the answer, so Ava can't really tell how much he's still effected by it. Not that his fantastic masking abilities are easy to read through in the first place, especially with her current affliction.

Instead, she just leans back as best as she is able, and closes her eyes. Time to enjoy the ride.

He's carefully not speeding, but they make good time. Once they've pulled up before Ravn's place, Joe lifts off his helmet and looks at her. "Which is yours?" he wonders, quietly, still sitting astride. As if considering a quick getaway.

Ava wasn't lying about the gardens. 1, 3, and 5 Oak are like something out of a Disney movie with the perfectly sculpted gardens with gorgeous hedges and elegant flowers. The trees are all perfectly aligned, the greenery a perfect shade. There are bunnies, and even a scampering deer. It's certainly a sight to see. "The first one." Ava gestures to the one with the vines looping up alone the house, giving it the cottage core vibe. Makes sense. "Greenhouse is in the back."

There's a grunt of acknowledgement at that, as he dismounts and slings the helmet into the sidecar's trunk, locks it. Joe lets her lead the way, falling in a few paces behind her. "Do you have anything from beyond the Veil growing outside the greenhouse? And do you have a fireplace or a firepit?" There's that sort of weary matter-of-factness in his voice, the tone of a long-suffering parent dealing with yet another of his children's peccadilloes.

Ava manages her way out of the sidecar and leads the way towards the backyard. "There's a firepit in the backyard. Fireplace in the living room." She glances back towards that weary sound in his voice. "Do you want some coffee? You sound tired!" She doesn't seem to get it's because she's been an idiot. "Well, there's Nimue. But we won't be throwing her into any fire." That's made quite clear in a firm tone. "She's a child. I don't know how her pod may be tied to her, so it's kept in her nursery. It's been separate from the others for a while. It doesn't act like the others anyway."

He's met it before, in other forms. The pilot trainee who doesn't realize that his cute little maneuver in landing has just pissed away millions of taxpayer dollars in terms of damage to the aircraft, the other college student who's sure Daddy's money can just make that DUI go right away. Nothing new, if novel in its setting and its subject. His lips thin out, but his voice is still even, as he glances at her and says, "No, I'm good. We're gonna take care of this."

Only to pause, turn on a heel, and peer at her narrowly. "What do you mean, a child?" he asks, and there's that edge there again, a hair more than mere incredulity. "Are you trying to raise some kind of Veil creature?"

Ava blinks blandly back at Joseph as if surprised. "Has nobody told you about Nimue? I thought for sure you'd have heard about her by now. She was the first thing to come out of the greenhouse, actually. The morning after Beltane. She came from the special pot. See, one of the fruits has very special fertilizer that was mixed with Cryptid blood. I think it also a Faerie Beltane blessing because boom, baby that nobody has ever seen the breed of before. She's soooo cute, look."

She pulls out her phone and pulls up a picture of a little blue, tiger striped and glittering baby. "Raise her? No. Fostering temporarily while she try to find out what she is and who her people are so that she can go back to her own kind, yes. But we're not sure yet if she has other kind or not, or if I accidentally created a new breed."

"No, I hadn't," he says, reverting back to that enforced calm. Barely a glance for the image. "You asked the good neighbors about 'er?" Joe wonders, as he glances up at Ava again. He doesn't wait for a reply, turning back to the path to the greenhouse, heading on with that long stride. As he moves, he's fishing a folding knife out of a pocket. Something like a swiss army knife, but not quite the same, opening the longest blade on it with a quick flick of his thumb. The serrated edge gleams in the morning light.

"Do you mean my actual neighbors, or the folks in the Veil? Because I've asked all around town and nobody has idea about her race or seen anything like her before." Ava frowns, glancing at the knife and then the greenhouse door, but she doesn't make any moves to stop him. "As for the Veil? I haven't been able to get in there to ask. Ravn took me in and out once, but it was just a practice run. He's not very secure in his abilities yet. Other than sending a letter straight to City Hall, I don't know how to get in touch with anyone over there."

"I mean the fae," Joe says. "Lotta the lore I know says they don't care for bein' named directly. But if you've got some wise enough to tend your garden, might try askin' 'em." Nodding almost absentedly, as he reaches for the door of the greenhouse.

"You gotta big trashcan? Yardwork sized, one that isn't the rolling can for municipal pickup?"

"I have yet to figure out how to get them to talk to me. I've been calling and calling. Left offerings at the faerie circle, and notes. So far, nothing. But they still tend to the fruits and everything. I think they just like ignoring me." Ava makes a face at that. There's a small shed beside the greenhouse, and she steps inside of it for a moment, vanishing, only to come back out rolling a large on it's side with a huff. "Does this count?" It's big and circular.

One of those indeterminate tips of his head. "Good enough," Then he's wandering on in, as if he were the owner there. Though there's something faintly wary in the way he moves, poised like a cat expecting to be rushed by a dog. "Got bags for it?"

Thankfully, there are no dogs in there, but the caution is a good thing, because that greenhouse is a living, thriving thing at the moment. The vines are overrun, fruit growing everywhere. Just walking in, the very aroma is enough to sweep a grown man off his feet. Not to mention the sheer, staggering beauty. The sun is shining in through the windows, gleaming off the iridescent fruits and casting rainbows across the walls. The fruits themselves come in a delicious rainbow assortment, from the purest of golds to the deepest blacks and everything in between. They hang from the vines, draping along the walls, hypnotic and just so very lovely.

Ava comes up behind him a few moments later with a bag. "I got a couple."

It makes his head come up, makes his nostrils flare like a horse's. Visibly staggered, to the point that he has to brace his feet a little, as if the floor were a pitching deck. It's going to be harder than he thought, and not the way he imagined.

But that momentary wavering is over soon enough, and his face is set as Joe turns back to her. "Good," he says, terse. "Cut a vine, pull it down, dump it in there." As if they weren't clearly something utterly otherworldly. How hard does your heart have to be to resist this? He takes the bag from her, and there's a momentary thread of other scent, beneath the richness of the plantlife, the sharpness of frankincense, the bittersweetness of myrrh and opoponax, all borne on a thread of smoke.

"Whoa." A hand comes up as if to steady him, but Ava doesn't make contact because by the time she's behind him, he's already steadied himself. "I get it. Their beauty overwhelmed me, too. I still can't get over how a couple of small figs could do all of this." There's a blissful sigh as she gazes around. The bag handed over, she catches that other scent, tracing to follow it with her nose, fluttering lashes leaving confused eyes turning up towards Joe's face. "Is that you?"

Cut a vine? "It'll just grow back. I tried to sheer them back already when I saw how much they were growing. I thought they might get too big for the greenhouse and destroy it. Maybe if we do it enough at the base?" At some point while she was talking, her had reached out for one of the dangling grapes. She tossing it into her mouth while she talks, not even seeming conscious of the movement.

"Maybe," Joe says, but he doesn't seem to be attending, for a moment or two. "How fast do they grow back?" He's turned back to her, and that blue gaze is focused intensely on her. Like he can use the presence of another human as a bulwark against the beguiling greenery. "'cause I'm betting you're right. I figured cut 'em above the roots, and then pry the roots out. Gardening tools?" he prompts, still with that imperious air. Like she's a sailor he has every right to order around.

"Within minutes. I trimmed them. Brought the trimmings out. By the time I came back in, they were back and spread out even more." The intensity of his gaze would probably have Ava feeling a little unnerved, but at the moment, she seems completely unburdened by such things. Her fingers gesture towards a large box near the side wall. Neatly tucked into it are garden tools, each with a neatly labeled section to make sure they go right back in the same spot. How very Type A. Nothing like how the Greenhouse looks at the moment, which is more wild disarray than anything.

The answer doesn't seem to surprise him. But then, the things of the Veil are never dealt with easily. He ambles over to the tool box, comes up with pruners, a trowel, a fork. The former he hands to her, the latter to keep, only to pause again for a moment. Clearly struck by an idea. "You got a lighter? Or matches? I'm thinking we might wanna see first if we can cut and cauterize, rather than try to fight their roots out of the ground....Is everything potted? Nothing actually in the soil?"

"There's a lighter and matches in the shed, yeah. Plus, there's me for fire." Ava grins, brows waggling. She accepts the pruners with a nod. "Cut and cauterize. Sounds like a plan. My poor little babies." Her tongue clicks. "But, it must me done if it's making people so worried." Her head bobs. "Yup. There are all the potted ones."

There's a rueful twist to Joe's lips, as he looks at her. "I've got my own lighter," he says. "You keep your own. Man, I can't wait to see what you do when you come down off this stuff."

Then he's heading to one side of the door. "I'mma work back along this side, you start on the other." At least she's listening, not making it a fight. No further hesitation - he reaches for the base of one vine, starts sawing through it as swiftly as he can.

"Well, my own comes from here." Ava holds up her hand, flexing her fingers. "Kind of hard to give you that. Well, I can give you one of them, for that last comment." See? There's the middle finger, right there. So rude.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're very bossy?" She wonders, taking the pruners and heading down to the other side of the plants. There's some quiet murmuring to the plant, quiet apologies for what's about to happen before she starts to clip into the base of it, bit by bit. There are no attacks, or swatting branches coming after the pair, at least. As far as plants go, they seem to act fairly naturally as they are pruned away.

He grins back at that, feral, amused. "Ain't your mama never taught you no manners?" He's exaggerating his drawl, looking at her for a long moment before he puts down the knife and starts trying to cauterize the stump of the vine. A butane jet lighter, the flame the same blazing blue as his eyes.

"Maybe some," Joe allows. "Used to givin' orders, though." No squeamishness about sap or dirt. "Like most, I'm sure you're not used to takin' 'em." No particular scorn in that statement.

"Oh, I know how to take orders when someone knows how to make me take them," Ava offers with a devious grin. She manages to get the main branch of the fruit off and settle it next to her. "My mom taught me manners, sure. But my daddy taught me when to say fuck it and throw it all to the win--" Well, looks like the fire is effective. As he holds that blue flame to the stump, it immediately begins to sizzle and burn. It doesn't just cauterize, but start to eat away at the stump at rapid speed, blackening it as she flame that overtakes it vanishes beneath the soil.

Ava's gone quiet. It could be the success. Or it could be the black smoke pouring out of her mouth as she tries to gasp for air, reaching out towards Joe with wide eyes.

He knows what it sounds like when you can't get oxygen. The way the throat convulses. Lighter and knife Joe drops into his pockets, even as he lunges for her. No time is wasted - Ava's getting hauled out into the yard, laid on her side. "What's happening?" he demands. As if she can tell him, with that smoke.

There's only wide eyes and strange noises. Strangely, there isn't much flailing or concern despite the severity of the situation. But then, she's not in her right mind. Who needs to stress about oxygen, right? There's no answer for him, just that black smoke pouring out of her lungs.

The pot where he's set the stump aflame suddenly pops inside the greenhouse, and a heave of breath is taken in as the smoke stops.

It's a good minute of heaving and coughing before Ava can choke out something resembling words. "That sucked."

"Fuck." Well, that's succinct, at least. "I imagine you're tied to them, because you've been eating them. You're gonna need to detox," Joe's voice is flat again. "Did it hurt you when I cut the vine? I didn't hear anything from you. D'you have somewhere you can go that's not right next door? Friends, kin?"

A beat, and he offers, sounding resigned, "I've got a spare room, and time to watch you. But I can hardly keep you against your will. Javier's place is further out, but I can't volunteer him." Except that he just did.

(TXT to Ruiz) Joseph : Hey. You free? I've got a problem.

"Or cause I grew them? They're my babies. Like Nimue." She chokes out a cough again and manages to sit up. Ava glances to the greenhouse and starts to push herself up again. "I've cut the vines before and it's never hurt. Didn't hurt this time either. They may be meant to be pruned, though." She's opening the door to the greenhouse and starting to go right back in. The stump that she'd pruned down is already starting to bloom again, bigger this time. "See?"

"We'll have to pull them out. I don't dare use weed-killer on 'em - I don't want to poison you," Joe shakes his head at the stump. "How often do you tend them? How much water do they need?"

He's crouching down to examine the pot and plant he tried to burn. Face still again, like he doesn't want to give anything away.

The pot is in shatters and there's fertilizer and soil all over. There's also what looks to be the charred remains of a large root, it's strangely similar to a mandrake root except it's very easy to make a distinct face on it. "I trim them and talk or sing to them every couple of hours. I used to water them every day. But now they don't need it any more. They're very self sufficient, you know." Ava speaks as if they were individuals rather than plants.

"Well, maybe we should just keep doing what you did, but all at once. It'll just suck all at once and then stop."

(TXT to Joseph) Ruiz : Uh. depends on the problem. what's up, baby?

Joe's frowning. Not angry or annoyed, but the puzzled scowl of someone trying to parse a conversation just at the edge of hearing. Ava gets a nod, as he peers down at the root. "Looks like something out of Harry Potter," he says, rather whimsically.

Back to the wall of vines he was working on, but now there's neither knife or lighter in hand. Instead, he lays a long hand on the vine, just where it emerges from the soil, with a strange gentleness. Then he tilts his head, again with that listening air.

Ava pivots on her toes to watch as Joe grabs one of the vines. She can feel the thrum of Spirit in the air and smiles softly. "The best magic, if you ask me." They can both watch as the vine begins to shrivel. It starts to spread rapidly from his touch, through the fruits as they raisin and crumble from the branches with dull thuds against the greenhouse floor. As massive as the plants are and as far as they have spread, it takes a few moments for the withering to reach the roots.

Ava watches in fascination as the plant weakens and droops, dead down to the root. She even manages not to make any pained noise as she turns to Joe with the withered left hand up to her forearm tucked under the other. "Effective. But I think I preferred the fire," she offers through gritted teeth.

He gives a hiss of exasperation. "Looks like we are going to need to detox you before we try this in earnest," Joe mutters. Then he's pulling a cellphone from a jacket pocket, texting away. "How bad does it hurt?" he asks, but he's clearly distracted.

(TXT to Ruiz) Joseph : I'm at Ava's. She's high on the Veil fruit, though she doesn't realize it. Came to her place to try and destroy the plants, but she's bound to them. Hurting them hurts her. I think we're going to need to detox her, if we can.

"I'd give it a four on the pain scale. If you could go ahead and unwither it, that'd be super neat, though. I like having fully functional arms for stuff. Call me silly. Helps with work." Ava's brows tick up. "Seriously. Just one shot all of them, bam done. --Who are you texting?"

(TXT to Joseph) Ruiz : Detox her? how do you propose doing that?

That request he does obey. More tentative, but there's the flow of power back into the plant. Life taken, life returned. "De la Vega. I wonder what would happen if we took them back across the Veil," he muses, glancing between the phone and her.

(TXT to Ruiz) Joseph : Keep her away from it until it's out of her system. Works with ordinary drugs. She doesn't even realize she's eating them. This stuff is messing with her will.

Ava takes a slow breath in as her arm returns to normal along with the health of the plant. She shudders, shaking it out from the shoulder. "Oh. Tell him I say hi." She grabs the pruners again and goes for the stem of the plant that was just withered and unwithered. "The hypothesis being that the door between here and the Veil would be enough to sever the link between us?"

"Will do," He may agree, but he's not doing it yet. Waiting for a reply. "What about you - you try it. Try withering or burn it with your abilities. Maybe you can control the damage or the pain better," he suggests. He's stood up, phone held loosely in hand, regarding her patiently.

(TXT to Joseph) Ruiz : You're assuming this shit works like ordinary drugs. it's worth a try, though.

(TXT to Joseph) Ruiz : She said she got it from Roen. might be worth paying him a visit, too.

(TXT to Ruiz) Joseph : Ah, that I didn't know. I'll text him, see what he says.

(TXT to August) Joseph : Hey Roen, it's Cavanaugh. Got a problem and could use your advice. Brennon's high on Veil fruit. Been trying to kill the plants in her greenhouse, but damaging them seems to hurt her.

Once the top is lopped off, Ava goes digging in the dirt to pull up the full root from the stump. It looks just like the blackened one, only this ones face is very much not charged and quite cross. It's eyes squint, moving from Ava towards Joe, narrowing further. However, it doesn't look like there's a thing it can do outside of being unnerving. Ava's other hand flares with flame, drawing the root's attention back to her. It just lifts its eyes to stare, locking eyes. She stop, flaming hand just hovering as she stares, eye to eye.

"I-- can't."

"Give it to me," Joe says. There's that steely note in his voice, despite the quiet. "I'll deal with it. It's clearly alive and aware, in some way. That's a being, not just a plant. And one that's apparently quite happy to usurp your will with its own. I'm not as good as de la Vega when it comes to the mind stuff. Maybe he can pry it away from you."

Those flames go out and the hand falls to Ava's side. Her eyes remained fastened on the root. "Look at how cute it is, though." The mouth on the root's face shifts upward at that, aware enough of the words, or maybe just the emotion through the bond. Her fingertips run over the flat space where she'd just chopped the branches off. It looks for a moment like she's about to do something stupid.

But that tone of Joe's voice brings her eyes to him. "What?" Her brain is sluggish so it takes a second to catch up. "Oh." The hand extends with the root. It's held out at the command. However, her fingers are wrapped around it protectively so that he can't really just take it.

The look he gives her is utterly sardonic. "You can not possibly be willing to spend the rest of your life as a slave to a magical potato," Joe says. "But that's where you are now. Give it here."

There's no impatience in his voice. "Let go. See? See how it's using you already?" Like a teacher coaching a recalcitrant student.

"You're a magical potato," Ava offers in a tone filled with pure brattiness, her expression completely unchanging as she holds the root out towards Joe. She tried to give it to him, promise. She just couldn't, because reasons. Right?

Let go. Ava takes a breath, her eyes falling down towards her fingers and his hand. There's another attempt, brows twitching together. "Fuck," she growls before shoving the hand out and releasing the thing quickly. Only to snatch her arm back fast. A split second of her own self control.

"Don't look at me. I didn't get you into this fix." At least he didn't call it a 'pickle'. Age, it seems, has not slowed those fighter jock reflexes, for he snags the little root swiftly.

Joe peers down at it, momentarily curious. "Hey, you little bastard, d'you understand human speech?" he inquires, tone almost amiable. Like he holds conversations with tubers all the time.

"Yeah yeah." It seems that Ava doesn't have a valid arguement, so she doesn't actually argue. Instead, she just watches and tries to fight the oddly maternal instinct to protect the root.

Those strange eyes shift from the woman to Joe as it switches hands, narrowing again. It seems to be cognizant enough to realize that Ava wouldn't, or can't, wither it. Which leaves only one in the room who could. The eyes shift at the question. It's hard to tell if it understood or not.

Can you meet the gaze of something that doesn't really have eyes? Joe's trying, at least. Gazing down into that wizened little face, lips pursed. "If you can understand me," he says, haltingly, "understand that I'm offering you a choice. You can let go of your ties to her, and I'll do my best to see you find a place to live on the other side of the Veil. Or if you don, all y'all can burn. Whatever it takes to set her free of you."

The little face looks back up. Even if it doesn't have eyes, it's attention is riveted to Joe's face as he speaks. The negotiation has begun, and the offer is made. In all appearance, the root doesn't appear to understand, however, the other plants give a little shudder through their vines after the ultimatum is given. Ava's head turns. "Oh!" she grins at the shudder, reaching to take one of the onyx pears that was shaken loose to drop right at her feet. "Awww, that was sweet." She takes a bite, going back to watching the play by play with a curious expression.

Can a root look smug? Because it kind of does. There's a strange mental push felt in the back of Joe's mind, something tickling like it's trying to make a connection but it can only brush against the surface on not quite latch in right.

<<Ours>>

Footsteps up the walk from the front yard; the cadence familiar enough to Joe at least. There's a jangle of keys being shoved into a pocket as a certain Mexican approaches. Dressed today in a ratty black hoodie with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, faded jeans and work boots, sans baseball cap. He angles toward the pair, brows furrowed in concern.

He feels that, that reaction, and grins down at that little face. It's feral and humorless, that expression. Though his head snaps up at that. "Goddammit, get out of here. You keep eating that stuff." Joe sounds more irritable than infuriated. "It's just gonna hook you further."

The brush at the back of his mind makes him shudder, as if he felt a fly's feet on the nape of his neck.

The sound of Javier's feet makes him sigh relief. "In here," he says. "I'm glad to see you. These plant monsters have her hooked on their fruit. I've tried destroying them, but it hurts her. You're way more powerful with mind than me. Maybe you can put the fear of God into 'em, making let go of her. I offered a bargain that we wouldn't kill 'em if they let her go."

Ava huffs as Joe scolds her, the black pear hovering in front of her mouth. "You're just upset because you haven't eaten anything. You should have a snack. You are surrounded by the best fruit on the planet. In two realms even. But you're spending all your time talking to a root." Joe has probably noticed that since the room is outside of the soil and the fertilizer, this stump has not grown at all. The vines have not replicated like they did when they were planted.

Her face brightens as Javier enters the greenhouse. "Hey! Long time no see."

Javier looks irritated. Hard to say why. Maybe because Ava's sassing Joe, or maybe because she's still prattling on about the damn fruit, after all the trouble it's caused. He looks between the pair of them with slightly narrowed eyes, tonguetip tucked between his teeth, then steps forward and attempts to pry the pear out of Ava's hand.

"Get in the fucking truck," he tells her. To Joe, "Tell me you haven't eaten any of it?"

"None of it," Joe specifies. He's holding a root in his hand. Like a cross between a yam and a mandrake....though like the mythical mandrake, it proves to have an actual little face when Joe lifts it and turns it to face Javier. "They've actually got minds. A kind of mind. Might be you can use your other self and scare the piss out of them."

"Hey! Get your own." Ava looks annoyed as the pear is pried out of her hands, but it's not really like she has the overwhelming strength to fight back against Javier as he pulls it from her fingers. "Mean." There's another tremble in the vines. Irritation maybe? The eyes on the root narrow slightly, shifting from Joe towards Javier, and then back. "What exactly is the big plan for Nimue then?" she wonders of the two men, her brows drifting upwards. She doesn't appear to be making any moves towards the truck yet.

"I'll go and grab her," Javier decides, pocketing the fruit. The vines get a brief glance, a quick baring of his teeth like fucking try me. "Let the sitter know she won't be needed for the next few days, yeah?" He pauses a moment at Joe's comment about the things having minds, and makes a bit of a face. "Don't want to attract Their attention if I can avoid it. You suggested detox, so we'll try detox." Then, with a ragged sounding sigh, he heads for the house. Called over his shoulder, "Can you help get her in the truck?"

There's a grunt and an upnod from Joe at that. Then he looks down at the root in his hand. "I'mma try and uproot these fuckers. Got this guy down to just a root. Maybe if they don't have soil and water they'll go dormant." God only knows where he'll keep the enchanted things. In his apartment? Locked in a footlocker, maybe.

"You guys are so over-reactionary. But it's very sweet." Ava can't help but grin between them for a moment. "I would pinch your cheeks, but I think Javi would straight up bite my hand if I tried." Laughter follows. Still not a care in the world, except for when Javier took her fruit from her hand, of course. "She's with my dad today. But I'll let him know to expect you, and call the sitter about this week, sure."

The root continues to stare at Joe, eyes still narrowed. There's a good chance it doesn't know what a footlocker is, or it might have an opinion on the matter.

The cop pauses at that, and turns to watch Ava sidelong for a moment like he's trying to assess whether he believes her or not. But then, why would she bother lying about where her plant kid is at? He'll have to cross that bridge when he comes to it.

Then there's the matter of neither of them listening to him about the whole get in the fucking truck, and a muscle in his jaw.. twitches as he considers the pair. "Put it down," he murmurs to Joe. "And let's go. I don't want you anywhere near that shit." Since Ava won't move on her own, he reaches for her arm, and starts steering her out of the greenhouse, and toward the front where he's parked his truck.

Joe....that instinct is to obey, when the orders come from that voice. So put it down he does, crouching to set it gently on a flagstone in the path, and then straightening. He heads for the front. "Got my bike here. Follow you to your place?" he asks, succinctly.

Ava looks back at Javier with a blink. "I wasn't leaving her with the sitter overnight. I only trust my dad or a handful of others with that, and they were all at the ball. Except Zee, who was at work." No lie detected. Now steered, she makes no resistance, easily guided out of the greenhouse up until the point that the root is set on the flagstone. "You can't just leave him on the ground!" She's still moving with Javier, but there's a surge around her as the vines begin to shift. Now it's her that's in control as they scoop up the root and deposit him back on top of the soil where he was planted.

That face it once again smug for a root as it vanishes beneath the soil, pushed by a vine that retreats a moment later to go still.

"Much better," Ava says with a self-satisfied nod, already well out of the greenhouse on the way to the truck.

"Enough," Javier growls, a sudden and sharp bark of sound as he shoves Ava ahead of him down the walk and digs out his keys. His own power surges around him, quick as a flash; the scent of ozone and ruin. Sharp, bitter and copper-sweet, there and gone again.

He gestures to the mud-spattered pickup parked by the curb. "I said get in the fucking truck. And what have I said about attracting Their attention? They want you to pull shit like this. Using your abilities for things you don't need to." After a steadying breath, he turns and nods to Joe. "Yeah. Could use a hand if you don't mind."

"I'll be right behind you," Joe says, heading for the big Russian bike at a quick lope. He snags the helmet and saddles up, letting Javier pull out ahead of him. Another shake of his head, and the motor rumbles to life. Well, there's no mistaking it for anything else ridden around here.

Ava mmphs as the bark of command and murmurs something to Javier as she's shoved forward. Her sneakered feet hurry towards the truck, pulling open the side door. "I know what you said," she offers with a heave of a sigh. "But he couldn't be left on the ground like that. Especially if what happens to him happens to me, right? If he dehydrated in the sun because we just left him out willy nilly, and I suffered the same fate and you couldn't get to him in time..."

She fixes a look on him, then on Joe. Then she just shrugs and hops in the truck, shutting the door behind her.

Javier looks dubious as she explains about this weird ass shared experience thing with the fruit, and.. well. It's Gray Harbour. Nothing should surprise him anymore, not in this town. "Get in the truck," is all he elects to tell the brunette, though, instead of the twenty other things running through his head at the moment.

One last glance is cut toward the greenhouse, and then he swings into the driver's side, slams the door, and keys the ignition. Once he's sure Joe's ready to go, he turns onto the street, headed out of town. Doesn't seem much inclined to talk during the drive out there. Though when does he ever?