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It's Dinner Together Day, wherein Nevy and Mearc share a meal, shoot the shit, gossip, and otherwise do what friends do. Nevy's usually enthusiastic as all get-out for these occasions... which is why it's odd that she doesn't answer the buzzer until the second time Mearc presses the little button. "Hello?" comes the crackly voice through the little intercom. It's hard to tell with the acoustic artifact, but the voice sounds strained.
"Nevermore? I brought Chinese tonight. Extra sweet and sour sauce for you." He sounds concerned, meanwhile, because yes.
There's a confusedpause for a moment, then the intercom crackles. "Crap, Two-face, I completely forgot. Sorry. Uh..." After another brief pause, the door buzzes and clicks.
And so he comes upstairs to their apartment, knocks on the door. "If it's a bad time, I can leave the food and go away." He sounds uncertain of himself, or perhaps of them, or maybe even of how to handle this sort of situation as a general thing.
Nevy opens the door, and she's looking quite strained indeed - her hair is a frizzy, lanky mess, and there are deep bags beneath her eyes. "I... think I could use a friend. Are you okay for a hug?"
Mearc sets the food down right at his feet and opens his arms wide. "Come here, babybat. I've got you. Alright?"
She envelops him in a slightly desperate hug. She takes a deep breath and just... hugs for a little bit.
Mearc strokes her back lightly, humming quietly. He waits for her to choose to disentangle, focusing on being warm and cozy as possible.
It's a while later before she does so. "Thanks." She blinks. "Uh... Come on in, if you want. I'm...not sure how good company I'll be tonight, but the Chinese food does sound pretty good..."
"...you don't have to be good company for me, Nevermore Lost Lenore Usher. Don't you know that? Part of being friends is that sometimes we get to be not okay around one another. Which is pretty awesome."
She gives a slightly watery smile, then leads the way into an apartment that's a touch more cluttered and less picked-up than normal. She fusses at the table for a moment, picking up a couple fast food packages and clearing off space for the Chinese, then tossing the burgerbags into a trash can that's... not overflowing, but definitely full.
Mearcstapa glances around the place, then back at Nevermore. "How can I help? While you've got me here, and I'm doing pretty alright for myself, by my standards."
She thinks that through. "Um... I think dinner and company will... probably be a good start." She gives a little chuckle. "That's the downside of the single-person apartment life. Plenty of solitude, whether I want it or not."
He looks thoughtful, as he begins unbagging the food. "Do you want me to stay over tonight? I can sleep on your couch, and be here to make breakfast in the morning, if that would help."
She smiles at him. "You don't need t-" she pauses, considering. "Let me think about it?"
"Of course. You let me know after dinner. Here, have some of the crab rangoon, it'll help." He passes one of them to her, before going to the kitchen to grab paper plates, clearly familiar with the layout.
She chuckles weakly, but is indeed muching on some delicious deep fried cheesy seafood goodness when Mearc returns with the paperware. "Thanks," She says, taking the plates and putting plastic spoons into the takeout containers by reflex.
"You're welcome. You don't need to talk about it unless you want to, but I'm good for it if you need to vent. Alright?" He moves to sit down, picking a pair of chopsticks and divvying himself some of the beef with broccoli.
She nods. "I... think getting it out might be good. There's... a couple things, really, that... one-two punched me. You know, the Medium from the diary? The one dating Emma?"
He nods, glancing at her. "I remember, yeah."
"The medium... he started... eating other ghosts, using them up somehow to let him touch her. He was so... clinical about it." She bites her lower lip, worrying at it for a few seconds. "And... then he set up ghost traps, so he could be more efficient about it." She puts down the chopsticks she'd only just picked up. "Just... dropping a bottle, then coming back later and..." She mimes chugging.
He bristles. "That's pretty awful."
She takes a deep breath. "It's horrible. He just... talked himself out of caring about them."
"It's something people are good at, working past their morals when there's something they want. Sadly." Mearc shakes his head slightly. "Desperation makes people into obstacles, barriers, tools."
She nods, looking down at the table. "He... didn't even notice at first when he didn't see Emma for a couple weeks."
Mearc reaches out, puts his hand firmly on Nevermore's shoulder.
They look up. "He ate her. And he was so wrapped up in scraping for power, that he didn't even notice."
"That's...absolutely terrible, I'm so sorry." Mearc blanches as he hears that, and bristles.
Nevy nods. "That kind of thing... hurting the dead, using the dead just to get ahead? That's..." They shudder. "I just... I think, what if it was Grams? What if someone'd decided she was just... nothing? Just fuel?"
Mearc nods, not saying anything at all, and puts his chopsticks down.
She sighs, rubbing at her face. "Sorry. I just... it's a lot to take in. And then..." She hesitates. "How much do you know about the, uh... the mages?"
"Less than I know about vampires, more than I know about werewolves." He wibbles a hand mid-air.
She nods, then pauses. "Does... would it be dangerous, to you, to hear something that's... that feels similar to what you guys went through?"
He nods. "It would potentially be a risk to my mental well-being, yeah."
She nods. "Then all I'll say is that I ran into someone who... would probably be something of a kindred spirit. But it was done to him after he was dead." She grimaces. "And on top of the journal, it was just... A lot to deal with." She gives a weak smile. "So, how are you?"
"Better than you, I suppose. Really, really can't complain." He lets out a weak, uncertain laugh.
Nevy nods. "I'm glad." She thinks. "What... do you think might have helped you best, when you first... made it back? Dealing with... all the different things you dealt with. How... what would be your advice, to someone who was going to meet you, then?"
He thinks about the question for a moment. "Not to try to fix everything at once. There were points that I needed to reach, before I was able to accept and make changes. And those points were awful, and they were painful, and it was horrible for everyone dealing with me then. But it was necessary."
Nevy nods slowly. "One thing at a time? Not trying to... push you into being 'better' when you weren't ready?"
"Yeah. When I first got back, I was very, very much more protocol than person. It took a while for that to change, and for me to realize emotions were a thing I was experiencing and not a bug in the programming, for example. And that took a couple of real cathartic explosions for me to accept."
Nevy nods at that. "He's... not dealing with the exact same thing, but... there's parallels."
"That's probably a frustrating thing to watch someone else deal with, huh?" He shakes his head. "One thing that I think might help is to offer this person good music. I know it sounds strange, but. Like. Music is core to the human experience, and easier to digest by feel than reading or lectures, if that makes sense."
Nevy blinks at that, and a real smile blossoms on her face. "That's... a really great idea! He mentioned wanting to read some things, but... music..." She nods, then gives Mearc a little hug. "Thank you, Two-face."
"Start the playlist with 'New Soul' by Yael Naim, and go from there."
Nevy blinks at that. "Oof. Yeah. That's... yeah."
He grins, and goes back to nomming on the food. "Meanwhile, my biggest stressor is something I'm avoiding telling you about so you have plausible deniability if things go wrong and I'm arrested."
Nevy goggles at Mearc. "Well... shit. You know I'll be even more worried now, right?"
"I mean, you shouldn't be, that scenario's relatively unlikely. I've been assigned to make sure someone no longer owns certain items that are dangerous to us for them to own." He shrugs. "I'm good at that sort of thing."
Nevy nods, her expression thoughtful. "So... you probably have better options, but if there's a day when you're going to want to have absolutely been here all evening watching horror movies with me, honest...." They leave the rest unsaid.
"I'm hoping not to need that, with the plan I have, but I'll let you know." He chuckles. "Right now, I'm waiting on my forger to get me replacements for what I'm taking."
Nevy smiles and takes another rangoon. "This is sounding more and more like a heist movie. I kind of love it?"
"It kinda is a heist movie. Did I ever tell you about the time I was hired for a pen test, and then decided to get cute about it and break back in to leave the report on my client's desk?"
Nevy takes a bite of the fried treat. "Whahappem?" She says through a mouthful of cream cheese and krab.
"I got caught by guards on the way back in, and even my partner couldn't get me out of trouble. Our client was amused when we told her." He smirks. "Especially given how the original run had gone. Hubris was our defeat."
Nevy giggles a touch. "Sounds like you might have needed an addendum to your report, huh?"
He nods, grinning broadly. "I think that was one of my favorite jobs I've ever done. I might want to reach out to that client at some point, see how she's doing."
Nevy yawns, covering her mouth, then finishes up by putting some more rice in it. "Sorry... do you follow up with past clients often?"
"Not all of them, but the interesting ones, sometimes." He grins. "I can't tell you anything about this client, on my honor."
Nevy nods. "Oh, no, I figured that telling people about your security clients would probably be pretty bad form."
"Right, but. There's a difference between wouldn't and can't."
Nevy nods. "So, two reasons not to tell me anything more." They give a little smile. "I understand, Two-Face."
"Yeah. So that and finishing up my den are what's going on for me. I should take pictures later, show you how it looks so far." He grins broadly. "I ended up with a really modern-looking daybed, instead of either a couch or a bed in there."
Nevy smiles. "Sounds comfortable. You worked out what you wanted in there, then?"
"Yeah, I think so. I'm going to end up looking for office space outside the house, because honestly, a space that's both won't be either efficiently."
Nevy nods. "Yeah, I did my best to keep my art stuff semi-contained." She gestures to her studio-corner.... which is spilling over into the rest of the house a bit. Nevy glances over, then gives a lopsided smile. "Well... I try."
"After we finish eating, would you mind if I sort of...helped you out with this? Just a little. It looks like you've been overwhelmed, and I have some spare executive function, if you want to borrow it."
They give a mildly rueful smile. "Yeah, uh... I've been... a bit preoccupied, the last couple days."
"Happens to all of us. Here, eat, eat." He sounds like a Jewish grandmother for a moment, lightly poking her shoulder with a purple-painted fingernail.
"I'm eating!" She refills on broccoli beef. Then she looks at him. "Thanks."
"Of course, babybat. Anytime. I kinda wish you'd let me know sooner you were treading water."
She sighs. "I know. It hasn't honestly been all that long." They glance around. "Some of this is quirky-artist clutter, not in-a-bad-mental-place clutter."
"Mmm. If you're sure about that." He begins cleaning up the trash--the empty rangoon box, the hot mustard packets neither of them use, stuff like that. "Anything else going on with you?"
She shrugs. "Work's been a little busy. One of the other cashiers had to quit - something about a family situation - so Mr. Book is probably going to be hiring someone pretty soon."
"Hopefully someone you can get along with. I remember you complaining about that college student, what was his name?"
"Ugh. Tim. Never wanted to actually do anything while we were working together. And honestly, I'm not a purist about not smoking before work or stuff like that, but he stank up the whole dang shop."
"Just cigarettes or we talking weed?" Mearc grimaces. "Either way, that doesn't sound like someone fun to be around."
"Weed, and no, he really wasn't. At least it didn't last long. He came in one day for work absolutely reeking of the stuff while Mr. Book was there, and I never heard from him again. He, uh..." She puts on an exaggerated tone of measured, precise elocution - presumably, aping Mr. Book's speech patterns. "'Decided that a different venue would better suit his career goals.'"
"One of these days, I need to meet your Mr. Book, I'm just saying." Mearc shakes his head, pulling out his phone to put on some music in the background as he begins a tidy.
Nevy smiles and chips in, taking care of the things that actually have Places That They Should Be. The bags are still under her eyes, and her expression is still occasionally haunted when she's not distracted, but she already looks much better. Amazing, what companionship can do!
"I'm a little surprised you haven't run across him yet. He's not a recluse or anything."
"He's just never been there when I've come visiting you. Isn't that weird?" Mearc shakes his head.
Nevy pauses. "Do you think that's by choice, somehow? Or just... you know luck. Or fate, or whatever?"
"I have no clue. Want an implausible and perhaps amusing theory?" Mearc shoots her a playful grin.
"Absolutely I want to hear your weird theory," Nevy says, dropping some not-quite-dead paint tubes into the appropriate drawer and looking over at Mearc.
"He's a version of me from the future and if we meet in person, the timeline will collapse."
Nevy breaks into giggles. "An intriguing hypothesis, but I find it unlikely. Not unless you're planning on getting a frecklectomy sometime soon."
"...there's ways for us to change our faces. And other parts." A particularly up-tempo song comes up and Mearc bobs his head in time with the music, clearly trying not to sing along.
Nevy heads over to the bathroom, carrying a cup full of murky paint water. "Please tell me you're not talking about the underhill version of Natural Male Enhancement right n-" They walk back out, then blink. "WOAH! Careful, don't touch that!" She jogs over to carefully pick up the shoebox Mearc had been about to clean.
"...I was actually referring to the seelie version of gender affirmation surgery, but thank you, I won't be able to get that mental image out of my head for weeks." He takes his hands off the shoebox.
Nevy grimaces. "Sorry, this is where I'm keeping my, ah... home security supplies, you might say. It should all be packed up securely, but... you know. Better safe than sorry." They tuck it away in a cabinet. "So, gender affirmation, huh? That makes more sense."
"Oooh, iron, bad, yes. Thank you." He nods. "And yeah, gender's a thing for a lot of us for one reason or another."
Another nod. "I can't even imagine. Which... I'm kind of grateful about, honestly. But... I'm glad you have ways to... address that kind of thing, too."
"So, do you want me to hang out on your couch tonight, now that we've done food and there isn't stuff all over the couch?" He gives her a sidelong look.
She thinks about that for a moment. "Not necessarily all night, if you wind up needing to get back home. But... if you can stick around a little longer?" She gives a little smile. "I... think I'd like that."
"I can definitely do that. Hell...how would you feel about a cuddle?" He moves over toward the couch, flopping down onto it and lifting his arm to make a perfect pocket for a Nevermore to squish into.
She gives him an amused look. "You have met me, right?" She deposits herself next to him on the couch, cuddling in.
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