Will and Grace

William
William wanted to hang out with Grace.

Call this a rebound from his last terrible attempt at having a birthday, but this year he decided that he was going to hang out with Grace instead of getting plastered. He hasn't seen Sera in awhile. In truth, they haven't really talked in awhile either- William and Grace, that is. He hasn't been talking to too terribly many people that were over 5'2". He has a type, you see, and that type usually also falls into friends. Friends that are short (comparatively) and get into all sorts of magickal troubles. Or, well, he drags them along into trouble.

William is getting better at realizing he doesn't do the dragging. People often come of their own volition and run into troubles accordingly because he does things that are dangerous. Except on his birthday, which involves doing things like walking up staircases, going to a bar, or (in the most recent case) driving to New Mexico.

So, he called Grace. Asked Grace to come hang out with him in Santa Fe, stare at art, and mooch off of the free drinks that come at these particular events.

"The rules are simple: drink every time you see something that looks suspiciously like genitalia. Finish your drink when you see overt depictions of people's junk. Ready?"

Grace
"Oh, fuck. I'm going to get so plastered," Grace admits, tossing a sarcastic look at the sky that says: "Why me?"

Yes, why her? The one person on Santa Fe who has yet to see the point of stockpiling works of art in your house. If she were paying attention, though, that's not really the point, is it?

"I'm ready though, sure. Where should we meet up?"

----

And that's how they ended up at Bitfactory, because Grace thought that sounded cool. Free drinks? Yes. Pictures of genitalia? Well, they'll just have to see.

"Hmm. I'd thought this place would have more digital art, but I guess it'll do," Grace says, passing by a painting of blue, red, and yellow stripes. The ceilings, she notes, are black. Maybe River was right?

William
He's got whatever they're giving out for free, hands one over to Grace like a gentleman- well, more like a sir. Offers her a saucy eyebrow and a little mi-laaaady, in a fashion that makes neckbeards 'round the world both envious and pissed off because, clearly, the little ball of southern blond privilege totally doesn't get it and is clearly trying to get into Grace's pants and damn it, Grace should just give nice guys a chance and-

Nerp. Grace Evans probably doesn't tolerate morons. Not in real life and not on the internet, so William was safe in being a dork around her.

"There are some places in Baton Rouge that do digital art, but they're under water now."

Grace
William is safe. His affect is noted, but she takes it another way -- like he's pretending at posh. She returns in kind, a nose-in-the-air, pinky-raised salute with her new wine glass.

She doesn't often understand it when people do try to get into her pants. It doesn't parse. Not part of the program.

But then, when he speaks of Baton Rouge, her face falls, the fakey with it.

"Dude. Sucks," she says, takes a drink. There are no genitalia in view, but hey -- why play by the rules? "That's where you're from, isn't it?"

William
"Yeha," he says, starts on the meandering trip to find something that looked like boobs so he could take a dri-oop. There we go. Something with a circle. It was boob-enough. (When you're a young man in your early twenties, who remembers being an irrascible teenager, everything is boobs. Any port in a storm.)

"Basically, everyone's uprooting. Bonus grandpa's oldfolks home hasn't washed away. Mom and Dad are sleeping on Jenn's mom's pull out couch right now- I figure at some point in the next couple of weeks when the flooding stops I should go down and try to fix some of the important stuff in the house.

"Dad says the first floor is a wreck but the second floor is fine at the house. Business is going to pick up after this... so... yay?"

Yeah, his yay is so committed.

Grace
"Well. I mean..." Grace follows up her start with another drink. Doesn't know what to say. "At least nobody was hurt?"

Right? He would have mentioned that, surely.

They pass by an abstract landscape that reminds her of Arizona, all lumpy pillars of red under a golden sky. A home where it rarely rains except in monsoon season. Then, it does flood. Not like what's going on in Louisiana, though.

She points at it. "Look, there's a 'V' shape in that valley. It counts."

William
"Oh yeah, no. Mom's wigged out but my dad deals with flooding all the time. He stayed way longer than he should have back during Katrina? I'm pretty sure there's a picture of my dad with our dog somewhere on the internet. So imagine this big, line-backer looking guy chilling out on a roof with a Yorkie. He called me yesterday and tried to get me to come back home for a couple weeks.

"Which means that either they're going to come and visit soon or I'm not going to hear from my parents for the next six months because my dad's going to be elbow deep in reconstruction projects at work."

They pass the landscape, and his eyes fall on the lumpy pillars and-

"Yep, totally counts," he takes a drink, "but it makes me think of sunburns too which I think deserves a second drink because ow."

Grace
"That's gross," Grace says, drinks again in solidarity.

A thought comes to mind. She hasn't heard from her parents in years. It's better that way. But not everyone is so.

"How are you dealing with it? Besides going out to drink with me on your birthday, I mean..."

William
"Oh ho, not my birthday. I spent my birthday going to New Mexico, then I got hit with a car and-"

It dawns on him.

"I... uh... actually might need your help about something. Can we pause drinking so I can give you the run down?"

Like she didn't know he was trouble already.

Grace
The concern on her face goes from mild to shocked. Hit by a car. The fuck, Eli... Will?

"What do you need help with? I mean, you look to be in one piece. It can't have hit you that... hard?"

She cocks her head to the side.

William
"OKay, so. August 5th. I got hit with a car  because I was crossing the street and the world was silent. My rental car popped all four of its tires like something had just shredded them. Completely, not like a road hazard, more like deliberate damage. Oddity number one:

Oddity number two: I get to a gas station and this guy is possessed by some spectre that is totally enjoying all the intense emotions and stuff she's spreading around- like shades are want to do-" he says it like this is a normal thing to expect. Surely, everyone knows about weird spirits who possess people, right? "- we get into it while he's taking me back to my car to tow it to a service station. Wrecks the car, I manage to scare the spirit out and it goes off to cause more havoc and more damage but this guy is really messed up because, y'know, massive car accident. He's probably still in the hospital, has a shit ton of bills, and I'd like to try and help but I'm getting off topic-

Oddity three: I try to call the guy's nephew at the shop that we'd been at, but the guy's nephew is nowhere to be found. He's dropped off the radar. And? And? My rental company can't find my stupid rental car. I'm just saying the damned thing was stolen, but nobody can find it.

"So, there's a spirit running around doing what they normally do- which isn't unusual, a thing shredded my tires- which is unusual- and some guy and my rental car have up and vanished."

William
"Turning twenty-two is slightly worse than turning twenty one. And at least turning twenty involved just having a dissociative episode and being divorced from reality and not experiencing grievous bodily harm."

Grace
Grace turns her attention toward the blackness of the ceiling. Truly, William is a nexus of terrible things. Someone has cursed the dude, like put a cosmic "kick me" sign on his back.

"Okay. I can help with the guy's hospital bills," she says, and that's something new. She's offering of her own, not Kalen's. "I can't do jack shit about 'shades'. But you probably wanted me to do something about the guy's nephew, right?"

She turns a sorrowful gaze at Will. "Got any personal effects? And I'm sorry the universe is treating you shitty."

William
"I could tell you where he worked?" he offers, like this might be helpful. He shrugs, looks across the room and points at a statue of what appeared to maybe be a swan but-

"eh?"

Raises brows and drinks before he has to think about this. He quirks his mouth to the side, "when it comes to spirits, I can handle it. That's something I'm comfortable with, and it's something I'm good at. When it has to do with... uh... finding literally anything I'm at a loss. It's the corner of the universe that I can't wrap my head around."

"So, if you could help with medical, and maybe help me figure out how to go about finding this guy? I figure he might be with my car."

He takes a moment longer, looks at his drink before looking back. "And thanks, I figure until I tell the universe to knock it off I'lljust keep rolling with it."

Grace
"So, do you think someone magically made your tires pop so that they could steal your ride? They'd get a car with four popped tires, doesn't sound very useful. Maybe it was that shade? Do you think it feeds on road rage?"

She's joking. Partly. Doesn't know anything more about shades than what she's been told by people who know better than she.

"I can try to help you find the guy's nephew, but the more information I have to go on to start with, the better. Do you know his name?"

William
"I don't know what that was, I... honestly, I really think that my tires popped because of a creepy-assed corn doll from the side of the road where my tires blew out and when I have time, I'm going back and taking that stupid thing and it's going to live in a spiritually warded box on my mantle like a freaking possessed Beanie Baby."

He may or may not be joking. It's William. He seems like the type that would have possessed Beanie Babies.

"His name is Jose, his uncle's name is Oscar? I can tell you a fuck ton about Oscar, and I could tell you what Jose looked like, but I didn't know I was going to need to be finding him."

Grace
Right. A creepy-ass corn doll. Grace nods her head and frowns. "Dolls. Terrible creatures. Rip your face clean off. That's why I always decapitated my Barbies. They needed to be incapacitated."

She looks around. Notes the swan-thing. Gestures at it, and drinks.

"Really, though, I'd be more worried about who made the doll. Sounds like a trap."

William
"Why would you decapitate Barbie? I loved Barbies!"

He scoffs, and then looks at Grace like he couldn't possibly believe her, despite the fact that he has completely glossed over the fact that he very real and honestly rpofessed his love for Barbies. Nobody likes Barbies, Will. Barbie doesn't even like Barbie.

"Anyway, I'll bet corn-doll is just a misplaced possessed cultural artifact. I totally want to go see who put it there, which will necessitate a trip back to Santa Fe. Wanna come with? I can share."

Grace
"I... may not be able to? I have some weird business going down in Colorado Springs. People dying, so," she says. So there's a good reason why she might be a bit... distracted. Will's problem just doesn't seem to be as immediately pressing.

"I also set a Barbie on fire once with a lens. I was pretty terrible to mine, but I kept on receiving them as gifts. Something something female child..."

She shrugs. Dolls are just creepy, period.

"Does Jose have a last name? Maybe I can pull up some records somewhere."

William
Does Jose have a name?

William gives the oh fuck look, like he has completely blanked on getting literally the most important piece of information possible. Like, you know, names.

"I will get that for you and then maybe you can help? Seriously, some random thing in Santa Fe is my business, you... uh... you deal with Colorado Springs. It's closer, and... what's going on there?"

Grace
"Apparently, someone is hunting the newly Awakened," she says, lowering her voice. "It's got the population there understandably upset."

There's just something about the idea of a thing preying on the helpless, isn't there? People who'd just come to and realized their potential, only to have it snuffed out by something bigger and tougher than they. Grace wrinkles her nose. It's got her understandably upset too.

"And yeah. I'll help you find the guy. It's just 'Jose' is a fairly broad thing to look for. I'd find thousands of them if I went looking for a 'Jose', you know? Maybe if you can get some DNA from Oscar, it might help me narrow it down too."

Apparently, there is more to it than just asking the universe nicely for the right direction -- at least, for Grace.

William
"Eh, let's see what Google gets me. If I need help getting into any records or file structure things, I'll let you know?"

He'd told Margot that he wasn't too keen on being alone, but at that juncture, William was getting pretty good at being able to do the preliminary work of most things on his own. He nods, sure he can get Grace the appropriate information in order to proceed further on and go places that he, for now, really can't go.

He drops his voice, keeps on the move.

"So.... any ideas who? Do we have a list of dead people?"

Grace
"I found somebody who I think was at least at the crime scene. Could be the guy, he's weird anyway. But I need to know for sure, you know?" Grace says. "There is a list of dead people. Dead and missing people. The crime scenes were scrubbed, though. No fingerprints, only one hair left behind."

So, pretty strange. And fairly reeking of the supernatural. Whatever Grace is hunting has skills too.

"If it's not this guy, I'll be surprised. I just don't understand a lot of things yet. I'm getting there."

William
"Do... you... want someone to look back in time and see what happened at the crime scenes? Has anybody done that yet?"

Grace
"That might be helpful," Grace says. "It might also be dangerous, but..."

She smirks at Will, like she's in on the universe's big joke. "I don't think, at this point, you really have a choice. Danger is like catnip to you, isn't it? I've doomed you by just telling you."

They walk, and pass by a painting of a blue child in white pigtails who seems to be picking her nose.

"If you do decide to do that, let me know? I'll have your back, just in case."

William
"See, you opened your mouth anbd said people are dying terribly somewhere really close to you so of course I'm going to meddle. I can't help but not meddle. Horrible things happen to me even when I'm minding my own business and completely not doing anything worthy of getting smacked down."

He does stop by the blue kid in the painting. Stops and lingers and really inspects the painting. Looks at the artist's name and-

Brows raise, mouth turns into a thoughtful curve, and he continues on.

"And yes. I loves me some danger catnip."

Grace
"No, really --  says the guy whose tires exploded and got hit by a car. You don't say," Grace says. "Try to keep that craving under control, though? At least for a little while? You got hit with a car, dude."

She shakes her head. Someday, she might have to scrape the poor boy off the highway when a semi comes after him, drawn by whatever horrible luck has been placed on his head. Let's count the life-threatening things that have happened to William in just the last year, shall we? And those are just the things Grace knows about... This makes, what? 4? 5?

"Take care of yourself. Stay inside and eat cupcakes. That's fairly safe."

William
"I got hit with a car and had two car accidents within a twenty-four hour period. If you count blowing all four tires as a car accident."

He smiles like he just ate a cupcake and was thoroughly pleased with the prospect of being told to go and eat more cupcakes.

"I'm taking that as a doctor's order, by the way. Staying inside, eating cupcakes. Being safe. This is how you live to be as old as Grace Evans."

Grace
"I'm not that much older than you, dude," Grace says and rolls her eyes. Is this what it's like? Getting old? People start talking about how ancient you are?

"But yes. Doctor's order. Cupcakes. They're good for you."

Now that they're on the subject of cupcakes, it seems the heavy shit has been left behind. Now, there is only a game of find-the-phallus left to play. She hopes it will help him. Too much on his plate right now, but when are their plates ever empty?

She points at a modern art piece. A line and two circles at the end, messily drawn. She drinks. "Might as well be gazing at the marvelous art displayed on the wall of a bathroom stall, eh man?"