[center][h2][color=E9967A]Isley[/color] & [color=00a99d]Scott[/color][/h2][/center] [center][img]https://s13.postimg.org/67eyjabef/ezgif-2-93d9209a1c.gif[/img][/center] [sub] Date: Monday, August 19th -9:10am Location: Seattle, 3.14 and Other Yummy Things Interacting with: Each Other[/sub] [hr] [hr] The man's voice on the other side of counter brought Isley back to reality. "H-hi, sorry," she said, trying to focus her thoughts. [color=E9967A]"What would you like?" [/color] suddenly there was an onset of rain that sent the patrons outside scurrying inside, offering enough distraction for Isley to shake off the woman's face. The customer rattled off some uninteresting order. As she turned to pull the item out of the case, she nearly ran into another man standing next to her. [color=E9967A]"'Excuses me'"[/color] she said off handedly, earning her a funny look from the patron, as well as her coworker, Emma. It was only after the customer was sent on his merry way that Isley got the chance to really look at the man she had almost walked right into. He was older, maybe late 30's, early 40's, and had a distinct look of out of placeness behind the bar. Not only was it the lack of uniform (green shirt, baseball cap) but he look distinctly unhappy to be there. Not the face of a person used to working in customer service. [color=E9967A]"Ah--"[/color] Said Isley awkwardly, [color=E9967A]"Sir, are you...supposed to be back here?"[/color] she said, earning another concerned look from Emma. To say that Scott looked out of place behind the counter was an understatement. He wore combat boots and a sturdy pair of black pants, partnered with a grey shirt and leather jacket. The fluorescent lighting revealed the glint of dog tags around his neck. However, an eagle eyed observer would have noticed the numerous holsters he had on him - several of which contained guns. And while this was alarming, it could have been far worse. Scott didn't have his pride and joy, Peach, slung over his shoulder. He hadn't brought his shotgun with him to the detective's apartment. [color=00a99d]"What the hell of a question is that?"[/color] Scott said with a bit of an amused snort. His eyes glanced around his surroundings. A second ago, he had accidentally knocked someone's boxers all over the staircase. It wasn't his fault, naturally. They should have been watching where they were going. And now, it seemed the exit of Jade's apartment building had transported him to a...bakery? coffee shop? Yeah, something like that. [color=00a99d]"Who do I have to kill to get some decent customer service around here?"[/color] Scott quipped. He then sized up Isley. The situation was bewildering and for Scott, humor was the best defense mechanism. It helped him to keep his edges nice and grizzled. She looked to be in her late twenties - about a decade older than his own daughter. He frowned for a moment, remembering his dream from the night before and the events detailed on the radio. He needed to make a call - but a thought then struck him. He had already developed telekinesis. Maybe he had gained some sort of future sight and something was going to happen to this waitress in a pie shop. [color=00a99d]"You're not going to get chopped in half, are you? Gore is fine but...keep it creative, alright, kid?"[/color] [color=E9967A]"Sir-"[/color] Started Isley before being cut off by Emma. "Isles...Who are you talking to?"She said, in a quick, biting whisper. It was nearly impossible for Emma not to see the man. He was standing right in front of her. In fact, the man's much larger figure nearly covered the entire form of the much smaller girl. There was no way she couldn't see him. Isley felt like a flow of ice water was rushing down her spine, a faint ringing in her ear and realization dawned on her. Either Emma was messing with her (unlikely)...Or... [color=E9967A]"Bathroom, cover me please," [/color] she said quickly, walk-running to the single occupancy room near the corner. Slamming the door shut behind her. She kept her eyes to the floor as she went to the sink, turning on the cold water and splashing her face full of it. Pressing the palms of her hand over her eyes she said [color=E9967A]"I don't suppose there is any chance you [i]won't[/i] be here when I open my eyes?"[/color] Scott watched as Isley ran off to the bathroom in the corner. He raised his arm, staring at it as if marionette strings would pull him towards her. It seemed that his powers and abilities stopped at perversion. Dropping his arm, Scott nodded at [i]Emma[/i], despite the fact that she couldn't seem to see him. But this girl could - it reminded him of the way the murder victim had stared at him in what he now believed may have been a vision. [color=00a99d]"You wouldn't happen to have a phone I could borrow?"[/color] Scott asked, mostly rhetorically. The waitress couldn't hear him. The only one that could was barricaded in the bathroom and from his experience with women, he did [i]not[/i] want to head in there. Taking a deep breath, Isley opened her eyes and looked around the bathroom-- half expecting to see the strange, gun wielding man standing around her. When he wasn't anywhere to be seen, she let out a breath she didn't know he had been holding. She turned the water off in the stink. [color=E9967A]"See? Nothing. You are fine," [/color]she took another deep breath before opening the bathroom door. Only to see the man standing near Emma, asking for a phone, although it was clear that Emma heard nothing. [color=E9967A][i]Maybe...he is a ghost? Maybe I'm seeing dead people now.[/i][/color] Scott waved at Isley, tapping his foot. While this was a fantastic and fun new power, it was also quickly boring him. The dream from before had had a decent captivating motivation. But for now, unless the bakery was about to burn down because of a skittish waitress, nothing interesting was happening. It was one of the lamest visions in the history of lame visions. [color=00a99d]"You gonna run off again, princess?"[/color] Scott asked. Isley cast a sideways glance, checking to make sure that her coworker was busy enough to not notice her talking to, what must have look liked, empty air. [color=E9967A]"Look, I understand that this must be really scary for you. I can't imagine what it must be like to die,"[/color]It felt like a bitter lie on her lips. But this man didn't need to know about what she had experienced last night. Thunder rattle off outside. [color=E9967A]"But I want to help. I don't think I'll be much help. But I'll do whatever I can to help you pass on. Or like help you find closure. Except if it involves killing someone...I can't help you with that "[/color] She took a deep breath. [color=E9967A]"What's your name?"[/color] There was a very good chance that she'd freak out about talking to a ghost later. But it really wasn't the most unusual thing to happen to her lately. Scott had to bite back a chuckle, but it didn't stop the amusement from showing on his face. Unless the kid carrying the laundry had pulled a gun on him, he wasn't dead. In his line of work, it wasn't random people in apartments that shot you - it was either current clients, former clients, or future clients. Besides, the guy looked like he was struggling just with the clothing. He doubted he'd be able to hold a glock without falling over. But on the other hand, he sensed there was a healthy amount of denial when it came to this girl. [color=00a99d]"Scott Jones,"[/color] he said. He didn't feel like coaching the girl on how to say Rydzynski. Not very many people were capable of it that hadn't come from an Eastern European country. [color=00a99d]"If you really want to help me pass on, buy a case of beers,"[/color] Scott began, before instructing Isley on where to send it to -- the address he gave her just so happened to be for his apartment. [color=00a99d]"Good stuff - none of that Budweiser shit."[/color] And then, channeling one of his favorite movies, he got a mischievous glint in his eye. He loved [i]Beetlejuice.[/i] [color=00a99d]"And you have to marry me, so that way I can leave limbo."[/color] Isley let out a little sigh, giving another fleeting glance around the shop. [color=E9967A]"And what would a ghost need beer for?"[/color]While her voice kept its 'customer service' pep, there was a clear undertone of being done with his facetious attitude.[color=E9967A]"Look, I was just trying help. But- I need to get back to work, so if you could just poof off, that would be great," [/color] Scott rolled his eyes. He assumed that his outlandish requests would have tipped the girl off to the fact that he [i]wasn't[/i] a ghost. He was a flesh and blood - well, not currently anyways - human being just like her. The only difference was, someone was about to murder her. Given last night's vision, it was going to be gruesome...and apparently happen in a bakery? He hated cake for a reason. This only made him feel more validated by that. [color=00a99d]"Listen, sweetheart, I'm not Casper the Friendly Fucking Ghost,"[/color] Scott explained with a bit of a sigh. [color=00a99d]"I'm a psychic - I think. And someone is going to come and slice you down the middle any second now. Nothing I can do about it, I can just watch. Y'hear about the girl in Philly? Yeah, I watched her die. So...good luck?"[/color] At that, Isley froze, this was. So...fucked up. Her first thought was that she was now facing that poor girls murder. But... There was another flash of lightening as the storm seemed to intensify. [color=E9967A]"Psychic? So you are projecting yourself into my brain?"[/color] Then, another much darker thought crossed into her mind. [color=E9967A] " Wait are you the reason I've been seeing those fucking shadows. And last night? Why would you make me watch something like that? Is this some kind of sick game to you?"[/color] She realized that she was now talking much louder than a whisper and quickly yank out her phone. Holding it to her ear. Just because she might be going crazy, doesn't mean she had to look like it. [color=E9967A]"What do you want?"[/color]