Who: Greer and Nick When: Evening, Tuesday, October 10th Where: Juniper Inn Status: Complete Warnings: Turns NSFW Part One
Greer had found herself feeling at home in Point Pleasant. She was starting to wonder if it would be beneficial for her and Dev to find a small apartment somewhere if they planned to stay indefinitely. There was so much to unpack in this town, and now that they had found Rost, Greer was realizing the longer they stayed at Juniper, the faster their remaining funds would be depleted. She knew she could probably sell a few readings in town, and the thought was on her mind as she wandered outside to the backyard of the inn. It was such a lovely, warm night, and there were comfortable looking chairs and small outdoor couches that adorned the large patio. The owners had turned on some pretty lights that hung from the trees in the back, illuminating the changing colors of the leaves.
Since the patio was vacant, Greer sat down in one of the plush couches, curling a leg up beneath her as she lit the joint she’d brought outside with her. Rost had given it to her the day before, and all it took was one pull to know it was special stuff. Greer kept the lighter in her palm and rested it against her leg as she lifted her chin to the sky and released the smoke. The inn seemed fairly empty this time of year but for a couple of people Greer had passed in the halls earlier that morning, so she wasn’t worried about a small crowd venturing outside and becoming offended that she was getting high. Not that she would have stopped if they had, but she might have wandered out into the yard a bit more. As it was, Greer was enjoying the quiet inn. Without all the noise, the opening and closing of doors and footsteps in the halls, she felt like she would hear more of the home’s history. It wasn’t necessarily a happy one, but it was fascinating, nonetheless.
Nick was enjoying Point Pleasant so far. Maybe that was fucked up of him, the town had a dark and bloody history, but it was the kind of environment he reveled in. Like there was a mystery around every corner, under every rock. Even the air in the quaint bed and breakfast inn he was staying in seemed thick with the supernatural. He’d done a lot of exploring and taken a lot of notes so far, and the town was rife with possibilities for topics to write about. Nick was already thinking of finding a small apartment to rent, or maybe one of the mobile homes in the park he’d passed by quite a few times.
That was something to deal with another day though, for now he was just intent on enjoying his night. The weather was nice, and he’d eaten a good meal before coming back to the inn. Sitting outside for a while with his iPad and just taking in some air sounded nice to him. He wandered down from his room, and stepped out onto the patio, glancing around with admiration at their little setup and the lights out there. It was pleasant. He smelled the skunky pot odor before he saw where it was coming from, but only just. Nick looked over at the woman on one of the couches, a smile at the ready. “Evenin’,” he drawled, lingering near the patio door just in case she wanted privacy. “Hope I’m not disturbing you.”
The sound of the door sliding open had Greer turning her attention away from the sky and to her new company. She had seen the man briefly that morning, in the halls as they passed each other. He was quite large in terms of height and... muscle. As with most people, Greer wondered what had drawn him there, but she had resisted the temptation to ask, mostly because Dev had been waiting for her. But now there seemed to be no reason to send him away, so Greer scooted to the side and patted the cushion next to her. "If I'd wanted privacy, I would have stayed in my room," she told him, her lips curving as she brought the joint back up to her lips. "Come sit with me. I can put this out if you don't like the smell of it."
Now that his eyes were adjusting to the dimness, Nick recognized the woman from passing her a couple of times as he moved around the inn. It was mostly all that lovely long hair that had caught his eye. He was never one to turn down an invitation from a beautiful woman, so Nick ambled over to the couch. “Doesn’t bother me a bit,” he told her amiably. “Kinda makes me nostalgic, if I’m being honest.” He hadn’t smoked weed with any frequency since he’d been in college, and that smell was tied to some good times in his life. Nick sat his big self down next to the woman and stretched his legs out, tucking the iPad between his thigh and the arm of the couch. People were always more interesting to focus on.
"Does it?" Greer smiled, resting her elbow on the back of the couch as she turned to face him more directly. Even sitting she could tell he was a tall man. His legs went on for miles, it seemed. Greer sort of wished Dev was around. She had a feeling he would appreciate the view as much as Greer did. But, Greer was more interested in the man than his body. Was he a visitor? A long lost native returning home? There were so many possibilities. "That probably means you haven't smoked in awhile." Without thinking, Greer offered the joint over to him, one brow raised curiously. "I promise you that you've never had anything as fine as this before."
“Don’t mind if I do,” Nick murmured with a half-grin. He’d kind of hoped she would share, and it didn’t take long for the generosity to jump out, did it? He rubbed his hands together for a second before he took the joint between his thick fingers. It felt tiny, like most of them did, but that was okay. It was going to kick his ass anyway. Nick shot the woman an amused glance as he brought it to his lips. “No laughing if I cough my ass off,” he said. He took a small drag off of the joint, held it in his lungs for a moment, and then coughed a little as he handed it back. The smoke went down smooth, so the coughing wasn’t too bad, but it had been a while since he’d smoked, so it was unavoidable. “Tastes good,” he offered once he could, chuckling a little.
Amused, Greer nodded once as if to promise she wouldn't laugh. When he did end up coughing, it was mild enough that she said nothing, but took the joint back from him and brought it to her smiling lips. "It does, yes," Greer agreed, taking another short drag from the joint before she took the joint from one hand to the other, holding it out over the back of the couch before offering him her now free hand. "Greer Loveridge. I've seen you around the inn over the past day or so. When did you check in?" It was possible that she was being nosy, and she probably was, but the man didn't project a standoffish attitude, obviously, and if he was willing to sit with a total stranger and enjoy some recreational drugs, perhaps he would be willing to talk with her as well.
Nick gave her hand a warm squeeze of greeting, making a mental note of the name. Greer Loveridge. It sounded like a stage name. But maybe it wasn’t, who knew. It wasn’t like he could judge, he almost never gave his real name. “Nick Cooke,” he replied, giving her a nod. “I checked in, ahhh ... I believe it was Wednesday. I have seen you as well.” He gave Greer a lopsided smile. He’d noticed her, and the dark-haired man who seemed to be with her a lot, but Nick was just in the habit of noticing everybody, so he didn’t ask where her gentleman friend was. “Have you been staying here long?”
"Awhile," Greer replied, still watching his face intently. He had an interesting look about him. She was betting he had secrets, but then... who didn't? She felt so comfortable and mellow at the moment that while there was the desire to ask him a dozen and a half questions, she found she was in no hurry to do so. "A couple of weeks, at least. I don't know for sure. The days sort of blend together here. I like it. It's nice to meet you, Nick Cooke." Greer held onto his hand for a few moments longer than what was probably necessary or appropriate, and she brushed her thumb over his skin as she brought her joint back to her lips. She left it dangling there as she turned his hand over and smoothed both thumbs now over his palm. It caused her to arch a brow curiously before she brought one hand up to take the joint from her mouth again after taking a longer drag. "You have strong hands," she said, arching a brow as she offered the weed to Nick again. "You enjoy working with them. Not exactly physical labor either."
Nick lifted an eyebrow as Greer held onto his hand after they’d shaken, and then started ... reading his palm? That was what it looked like, anyway. He couldn’t help but smirk a bit. She did have something of a bohemian hippie vibe to her, didn’t she? In ways that had nothing to do with the joint in her mouth. He accepted it back when she passed it, letting Greer do what she wanted with his right hand. The touch felt nice, regardless. “Do I?” he asked in a murmur, eyeing her right back. Nick thought he’d met a few genuine psychics in his time, but they were rare as hell, considering how many people claimed to have those sorts of gifts. In his experience, palm readers were almost all grifters, but there was no harm in letting her tell him things about himself. “What do I do with them instead?” He took a bigger drag from the joint, one eye squinted a bit as he looked at her. When he exhaled this time, he didn’t cough, and immediately went to take another puff.
She didn't mind that he was enjoying her pot. Good feelings were meant to be shared. Since he had the joint and both of her hands were free, Greer held his palm out and traced the lines she found there with one finger. He wasn't necessarily any harder, or easier, to read than Rost had been and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth in concentration as she studied every line, how they connected and separated. "This here, is the Mount of Luna," Greer said, pressing gently against the base of his palm beneath his pinky finger. "It's a little overdeveloped, so you have an excessive level of imagination. And here..." Greer used the tip of her index finger to trace a curved line across his palm. "... your head line stops at Luna with a small fork here, see?" Greer's squinted a bit before she arched a brow and peered up at Nick, her lips twitching. "You have a creative drive… and a way with words. You write with them.” Greer had been wrong before when reading palms, rarely though it was known to happen on occasion, but she was feeling pretty confident with Nick’s hand in hers. Perhaps he was a journalist, or an author. Even an artist, she supposed. He didn’t quite look the part but Greer knew better than to apply stereotypes to first impressions.
Once he exhaled the hit in his lungs, Nick didn’t draw from the joint again, just held onto it while Greer held his hand. Read his hand, more like. She seemed to know her shit when it came to the mechanics of it, but the real trick was interpreting everything correctly. “Heyyy, very good,” he said with a grin. He let out a laugh that felt a little more giggly than it would have ten minutes ago. Nick offered the joint back to Greer. It had been long enough for him that he thought what he’d already smoked would be enough, especially if it was as good as she said. “I am indeed a writer. And some would say I have an excessive level of imagination.” Nick chuckled deeply again. He liked that turn of phrase, he was going to add that to his bio. “See anything else fun in there?” he asked, giving his fingers a little wiggle.
Greer grinned, well aware of how skeptical people could be when she grabbed their hands. A lot of her readings were basic and general... things anyone could know by pulling up a palmistry guide online. But it took some intuition to delve deeper. When she did, they were either shocked and amused, or uncomfortable and defensive. She shook away the joint, needing both of her hands now as she smoothed her thumbs over his palm. She gave it a soft massage a few moments as she studied the lines, the length of his fingers and his lines around his wrist. "Hmm...confidence, but that was pretty obvious from the moment you sat down. You're very dedicated to your job. Probably to a fault." Greer licked her lips and tilted her head, her hair falling against her cheek as she brushed against his life line. She sighed, wondering how many people in Point Pleasant, whether native or new, bore the same broken line. "You experienced something traumatic in your life, probably when you were much younger. The line is broken here, but overlaps, see? That tells me that the tragedy wasn't as severe as it could have been, but it lingers... maybe motivates you. You search for answers."
Nick held onto the joint, gently stubbing it out against the edge of the end table beside the couch so it didn’t just keep burning and get wasted, then looked back at Greer while she continued delving into his palm. Whatever she was doing, having his hand rubbed like that felt good. He didn’t come across hand massages every day. One of his brows quirked at the bit about something tragic happening to him, and he gave a soft hum. That could be said of a lot of people though, and she hadn’t been very specific about what kind of trauma it had been. Searching for answers, however ... that rang true, and he studied her curiously. “Confident workaholic writer, still trying to figure shit out?” he summarized, giving Greer a little half-grin. “Can’t say any of that is wrong, per se. Any idea if I’m gonna? Figure shit out, that is.”
Greer shrugged and smiled. "It's possible that I could give you some answers had I brought my tarot cards out tonight." She patted his hand and released him finally. "But I don't read the future in your palm. Palms tell me what you were born with, and what's happened to you so far... the future is still unwritten as they say, and never set in stone. You seem like a determined individual, though, so I would say there's a good chance you'll find what you're after. Isn't that why you're here?" That was why she and Dev were there. Point Pleasant had an abundance of questions that needed answers. Some more personal than others.
In truth, Nick was certain he’d already found his personal answers. It had been a lycanthrope of some stripe that night when he’d been a teenager, and it had most likely killed his friend. He’d concluded that years ago. But there was so much else to discover about the world, so many secrets to shine a light on. So many deaths to try and prevent. “Isn’t that why we’re all here?” he countered, cocking an eyebrow at her. “Palmistry isn’t my forte, but this town doesn’t seem to draw anybody in for no reason.” Nick was feeling pretty high and buzzy, and he remembered belatedly to offer the joint back to Greer now that her hands were free.
Greer took what was left of the joint from Nick and brought it up to her lips to finish it. She was feeling quite lovely at the moment, and she was giving serious thought about taking a walk, just to enjoy the evening air on her body for a bit longer. Maybe even stop by the cemetery to see if Rost wanted some company. She didn't think Dev would mind it. "No, you're right. I think most people who come here have a reason, even if they aren't sure what it is yet. Are you here to write?" Greer asked, glancing at his iPad. Her lips curved again as she snuffed out the tiny bit left of the joint on the underside of her sandal. "Unlock the dark mysteries of Point Pleasant?"
Relieved of the joint, Nick crossed his arms loosely over his stomach, slouching a bit more on the couch that he was almost too big for. It really was a nice night, and he felt like he was noticing it more, feeling the air against his face with more relish. It was just cool enough, but not cold. If Nick ended up spending the winter here, it was going to be an adjustment. He was used to LA winters now, and Georgia winters before that. “I wouldn’t presume to claim I could ... but maybe a few,” he said, shooting Greer a grin. “Research is what I’m best at. And there’s plenty in this town to sink my teeth into, I’ve already found.” Maybe if he was lucky, he could squeeze more than one book out of this place. “What brought you here?” he asked, giving her another curious look.
Greer was so easily distracted that she had a feeling she would be terrible at research. Actually sitting down with books kind of research. Now, walking around town to talk to people and ask questions? That was absolutely something Greer would love to do, and she hoped she and Dev would get around to it soon. Not that she had minded the Rost-shaped distraction. Greer began to pick idly at the material of her flowy skirt, liking how it felt against her fingers. She also liked looking at Nick's face. He had interesting bone structure, and a really lovely nose. She almost wanted to reach out and slide her finger over it. But Nick's question distracted her and her smile widened. "The dark mysteries of Point Pleasant, same as you. There's so much more to this town than I thought there would be. I'm not sure when we plan on leaving now."
“‘We’ is you and ... dark curly hair, about yea-tall, Irish accent?” Nick asked, holding his hand up to his chest to indicate about how tall he remembered Greer’s male companion being. His voice had seemed to carry, Nick was sure he’d heard the guy more than Greer in the few days they’d been crossing paths. “Husband? Boyfriend?” He knew he was being nosy, but they were having a nicely chill conversation, and Greer had already divined his personality from his palm, so why the hell not, right? The worst she could say was it was none of his business. Not to mention, she was kind of gorgeous, and they were staying in the same building and everything ... but that was probably the weed talking more than anything.
Amused, Greer hummed a soft acknowledgment in her throat when Nick described Dev. Basic, but accurate. Most people remembered the Irish accent more than anything, and Greer couldn't blame him. It was quite charming, like Dev himself. "You're observant too, but I suppose writers have to be.” Greer fiddled with the rings on her fingers, twisting them around idly, her gaze still on Nick's face. "Life companion," Greer explained. Dev was really Everything. It was sometimes hard to place labels on what they were to each other. There weren't many people who understood it, but then, they didn't have to understand it. "We don't believe in marriage, or binding ourselves to something so unnatural like monogamy. But we love each other and that's more than enough for us." Greer lifted a brow, trying to resist the urge to smile again, but the THC floating through her made it near impossible not to. "No wedding ring on your hand either... I suppose that harks back to your devotion to your work?"
Nick hummed an agreement that writers had to be observant. Spies did too, so he was suited for both jobs fairly well. He felt very off the clock on both at the moment however, enjoying the night air and the interesting company. This definitely wasn’t your run-of-the-mill chit-chat, and he loved encounters like this. Nick nodded slowly at the brief explanation of their relationship, thinking he understood what she meant well enough. They were open and free-love types. That was cool. Nick had known a few polyamorous people in the past, and even more who just liked extra-marital sex. He’d even been invited to a few threesomes at cons and the like, but he’d never taken anybody up on it. “Interesting,” he murmured, gazing at Greer. Then he chuckled and glanced down at his left hand as if to check for a ring himself. “Accurate, I’m free as a bird. Never been married except to my job, gave up on wanting to a long time ago. It suits me, I travel a lot.” He gave her a lopsided little grin. “Probably makes me stunted or something.”
She arched her brow, returning his gaze with one of her own, her lips still quirked in a soft smile. She and Dev were quite confident in their relationship and how they felt about one another. She felt as it she had found her soul mate when they met, and the time they spent together since had only cemented that belief. Of course, ask Greer tomorrow and she would claim she didn't believe in soul mates or fate, but an intense subconscious attraction that the cosmos had nothing to do with. Honestly, so many of her beliefs all depended on her mood at the time, but how she felt about Dev and how they felt about each other never did. She doubted it ever would. Greer was quite literal when she described him as her life companion. "You're not stunted. Quite the opposite, I think," Greer assured him. She rested her elbow on the back of the couch and rested her cheek against her palm as she studied him. "You're confident in what you want. I don't think our entire purpose is to fall in love, get married and pop out some kids. Your purpose is to find what makes you happy, what drives you. Experience joy and love and pleasure wherever you can find it, from whoever or whatever is willing to give it to you. I think the world would be a much happier place if people would let go of the repression and propriety and give into their baser desires." Greer wasn't talking solely about sex, but anything that brought a person joy. As long as it didn't hurt another living thing, why was it so terrible?
There seemed to be a lot going on under Greer’s surface. Nick knew that might just be his skewed perception from the weed, or the deep-hippie vibe she gave off, but he was inclined to think it was genuine. She just seemed like that kind of person. Spiritual. It wasn’t a thing that Nick ran into much in the world, at least not on any honest level. Most people were cynical, himself included. But there were some who just seemed tied to something deeper in the universe, and Greer seemed like one of them. He tilted his head at her a bit while she talked, his brain feeling nice and floaty and expansive with what she was saying. “I’m inclined to think you’re right,” he murmured, studying her face. It was an optimistic sort of view of the world, that people would glean joy and fulfillment from things that weren’t harmful to others, but it was a nice thing to think about while sitting stoned out on a lovely patio under lots of beautiful stars. “And where do your baser desires lead you, Greer?”
Greer knew her particular views of the world was not shared by everyone. There would always be jealousy and possessiveness, obligation and societal expectations. Forced monogamy and resentments. She couldn't change the world. All she could do was live how she wanted to live and she had been doing that since she was a child. Adults had tried to change her, employers, boyfriends... girlfriends. Dev was the first person who loved her as she was, and who seemed to share the same views. Fate? Cosmos? Brain chemistry? Who knew. But she was happy being who she was, even if it didn't fit into what was expected by society. Damn the man, and all that. But Greer certainly didn't try to change those who thought differently and chose to live their lives a particular way. To each their own, of course. All she asked was they leave her be to do the same. His question prompted a soft, almost knowing smile that was hidden briefly as she turned her face into the palm of her hand as she gazed out over the Inn's backyard, to the trees and the lights that were becoming brighter now as the sky grew darker. When she shifted her attention back to Nick, she gazed at him for a moment before gesturing to the vacant patio. "Anywhere. Everywhere. Here. I would be an idiot to deny them... who knows what amazing experiences I would miss out on if I tried to."
Nick just kept looking at her as she turned her face away, curious to know what she was thinking about. Sometimes he wished he was a telepath -- something else he believed in -- just to satisfy his nosy nature. People were just too fucking interesting, and now he wanted to know what life experiences had made Greer the way she was. Everybody had formative things in their past, and he wasn’t gifted enough to read it out of her palm, either. He was a pretty big proponent of ‘live and let live’ himself, but it more came from apathy than enlightenment. People were going to do what they were going to do, and as long as they didn’t get any of their bullshit on Nick, he didn’t really care. “That’s so open,” he murmured, barely audible. Then, a little louder, “Have you had any here yet? Amazing experiences?” Nick paused and gave a soft, sheepish huff. “Not trying to interview you, sorry. Just curious by nature.”
Greer couldn't help but laugh a little. "It's okay. I'm the one who took your hand and tried to read your life story from your palm. You're allowed to ask me questions. I guess it just depends on what you consider to be amazing. As far as the town itself, I've... felt things that I haven't felt elsewhere. Both fascinating and dark. People can say things happen when you least expect them to, but I don't know that it's necessarily true here. I think a lot of people who live here deliberately close their eyes to what happens. You might have some luck if you're actively looking for answers, keeping your eyes open." Greer shrugged softly and lifted her cheek from her hand to stretch out her arm long the back of the couch toward Nick, though she didn't touch. "As for the people who live here, yes, I've had some amazing encounters since arriving. Honestly, I think the people who live here might be more interesting than anything that might be happening in the shadows." Greer paused and then laughed again as she brought her other hand up to her face. "I feel like I've just rambled on about nonsense. I'm sorry."
Well that was fucking intriguing, wasn’t it? Fascinating and dark. Nick wet his lips slowly without thinking about it, feeling a little hypnotized by Greer’s voice. He wondered vaguely if he would have the same impression -- the people trumped the darkness. Nick had dedicated way more of his life to darkness than to people, so he wasn’t sure what he’d be more lured in by. Though he’d already met a few very interesting denizens of Point Pleasant so far, present company included. He felt both overly aware and very comfortable with her hand near the back of his shoulder like that, and he smiled faintly when she laughed. Lovely. “I can’t really make that judgement call right now, but if it was nonsense, it was beautiful nonsense,” Nick murmured. He let his head roll further back so he could look up at the stars. They looked a little wobbly at the moment, but in a slow and dreamy way. “You’re right though, about closed eyes. I’ve seen it so many times. They feel safer that way, and people need to feel safe. Even though we never are, not truly. You just can’t let it rule you.”
As captivating as the world was as a whole, Greer had always been drawn to the people in it, more than its secrets. Not to say she didn't enjoy new experiences, but she had always believed there were things hidden from human eyes, both good and bad, so when she came face to face with them, or was shown proof of their existence, it didn't surprise her much. People, in her opinion, were much more complex. "Beautiful nonsense," Greer murmured. "I like that. Personally I think we're much safer with eyes wide open, but I know there are people who wouldn't agree with me. It doesn't seem like you're the type to let much of anything rule you. Except maybe your work," she added with a grin.
“I completely agree,” Nick said with a chuckle. “Eyes wide open, fists up. Be ready.” The rest of what she said couldn’t be denied either, but he was feeling chill enough to not be defensive about it at all. He just grinned over at her and shrugged a shoulder. “I submit to it willingly, I guess. It’s my passion. Married to my job, but I have many mistresses, so to speak.” He knew other people probably thought it was sad that he didn’t have a wife and kids and all that at his age, like he was missing out on some essential slice of life. Nick disagreed, even if he felt the yearning occasionally for something he’d never had. It didn’t keep him awake at night, at least. He had so much else to do, and he couldn’t really see fitting a family into the way he currently lived. “What’s yours? Besides people. What do you do just for you?”
Greer saw nothing wrong with someone allowing passions to rule them. It made absolutely zero sense to her that everyone's end game ought to be the same. Dependable job, marriage, kids... people were not the same, so how on earth could everyone possibly want the same thing? And it sounded like Nick was enjoying himself, and what he did. She found writers to be quite fascinating, all that creativity floating around in their heads, and the innate ability to put it down on paper. Greer felt like she was just too brain scattered to concentrate on writing, but she had never tried, so she didn't really know. "People are just for me," Greer said after a moment of thought before she smiled. "I like to read palms, and tarot. I also like to sit outside and enjoy the fresh air, I like to talk with strangers until they're no longer a stranger. I think I just... follow my intuition and see where it takes me on any given day. My mother accused me of being hedonistic, and I guess in a way she was right. I just don't think it's a bad thing like she does."
He let out a delighted little laugh. That sounded like a very parental view to him, he guessed he couldn’t blame the mothers of the world for wanting to shield their kids from some of the consequences of hedonism. It could ruin some people. Greer looked like she had a handle on it, though. “I don’t think it’s a bad thing either,” he said with a lazy smile, letting his gaze linger on her for a moment. Not that he could afford to give himself over to a hedonistic lifestyle ... but he could stick his feet in the pool every now and then, right? It was just refreshing. Speaking of feet, a sudden intense desire occurred to him, and he sat up straighter. “Take a little stroll with me? I haven’t been barefoot in the grass in too long.” Nick toed out of his shoes right then and started tugging his socks off. He bet they would be able to see even more stars a little further away from the house, too.
Greer was well aware of how her family viewed her lifestyle, but she had never really been one to try and please everybody else. Some might say that was part of the problem, and that she was selfish, but life was too short to dwell on sacrificing her own happiness for others. Dev was quite honestly the only person she was willing to do that for, but she also knew he would never ask her to. Just thinking about restricting herself to one job, one home, one person for the rest of her life... it made her feel miserable, deep in her gut. It just wasn't for her. "Of course," Greer said, smiling as she shifted on the couch to get her feet in front of her. She unhooked her sandals and slipped free of them, leaving them on the porch as she stood. Stretching her arms a bit, she then reached out for Nick's hand to walk with him into the back yard. Some people were strange about touching people they barely knew, and if it made him uncomfortable, she would certainly stop.
Nick felt nice and floaty as he stood up, abandoning his shoes and iPad too. He doubted anybody would bother their stuff, he wasn’t even sure if there were other people currently staying at the inn anyway. Besides Greer’s life partner, that was. Nick took Greer’s hand with a charmed smile, and walked with her off the porch and down onto the grass. He didn’t usually mind touching strangers, shaking hands and giving hugs at events had kind of burned that out of him. But holding hands was something a little different -- it was more intimate, for one. And such a human thing to do, Nick had always thought. Hands were their most versatile parts, the tools that had driven their evolution as a species ... the brain was the engine, but the hands were the wheels. And just clasping them together was so simple but meant so much. Nick gave a soft laugh and glanced over at Greer. “I’m so fucking high right now,” he murmured, not sounding put out in the slightest. “This grass feels amazing, and I was just thinking way too hard about hands.”
Greer was not a stranger to walking barefoot in the grass, high or not, but it felt especially good tonight. Maybe it was the cool weather, or the company, or a combination of both. She laughed a little when she mentioned thinking about hands, and Greer looked down at theirs, still joined as they walked further out, away from the Inn. She could see lines of trees in the distance, and wondered what she would find on the other side. Not that tonight was the night to find out, but maybe soon. "Hands," she repeated with a grin. "They're so revealing, and can do so much. I like yours, for the record."
Nick wasn’t sure how far he wanted to wander, he just enjoyed putting the lights from the inn porch behind them and feeling how the air opened up around then. “I know,” he said first to Greer, like she was in on the hands secret, and then laughed a little bit. “Hey thank you. I like yours too.” It was such a simple, stupid compliment, but it felt so cute in the moment. Weed would do that, he supposed. Nick swung their joined hands between them slightly. “No, but they’re ... I don’t know. Poetic.” He stopped walking for a moment and looked up at the night sky. “What do you think about space? You think we’re alone in the universe?”
Greer wasn't much of a giggler, but a small one escaped her as she looked at Nick before shifting her gaze further upward toward the dark sky. "You really are high," she said, though her tone was full of affection. "I think about space. How could I not? You know, at anytime something out there could collide with our world and render us completely extinct. We depend on the moon and sun to merely exist. The sun provides energy, and the moon pulls our oceans... making love in the moonlight is one of my favorite things to do, and I think it has to do with… something otherworldly." That was probably 'too much information' for the average person but she was feeling floaty and relaxed and Nick had the kind of personality that told her it was safe to be open with him, author or not.
"And no... I think it would be extremely arrogant of us to believe we're the only living beings in the entire universe. It's infinite, isn't it? I don't know if those beings are human or not... maybe there is another Earth out there, evolving differently than we have. Maybe there are alternate universes where you and I never meet, and you have a wife and six kids and I work as an accountant." Greer snorted and then laughed, bringing her hand up to muffle the sound a bit. "May the Gods help whoever has me working on their taxes this year."
Nick thought he could be excused from having stereotypical high conversations, since it had been so long since he’d felt like this. He thoroughly enjoyed Greer’s answer, even the TMI bit -- which didn’t feel like TMI to him at all, he was always down for hearing about the sex lives of beautiful women -- letting out a deep laugh of his own at the last bit of it. “I can’t see you being happy doing taxes, so if she’s a true version of you ... be glad you’re the free one, I suppose,” he reasoned, grinning. “And I’ll be glad I don’t have six kids. ... I can’t remember the last time I had sex outside, that’s probably really sad, isn’t it? Especially at night. But I think the ancient peoples who worshipped the sun and the moon and all the stars and shit ... I think they had it right. Or closest to. We’re all made of starstuff, that’s what Sagan said, right? That’s where we come from ... we’re the universe trying to understand itself. I think about that a lot.” His tone had gone a bit dreamy as he looked skyward, then his gaze was drawn back to Greer. “Don’t make fun, I haven’t been stoned in years.” Nick lifted their hands to poke at her side a little.
"Well, alternate universes may not always be an improvement to this one," she said. "But if accountant me is happy, then all I can do is be happy for her." Greer continued to study the sky. It was much clearer here in Point Pleasant than in Los Angeles, but she was sure if she were to stop, say, in the middle of Montana with nothing around for miles, the stars would shine even brighter, away from the noise and pollution of big cities, and even small towns. Maybe on their journey back home, she and Dev could take a detour. Greer's attention shifted as Nick poked her a bit in the side and she smiled, quite liking his take on who they were or where they came from. Starstuff. That worked just fine for Greer. "Don't worry, I'm not making fun. I'm enjoying this conversation. Maybe if you weren't high we would be making small talk about the weather instead of talking about having sex under the stars, which I think you should do whenever you get the chance. I feel like so many people may feel tense or shy when they're being intimate outside, but it can be extremely freeing if you allow yourself to let go of everything else."
“Eh, fuck the weather,” Nick murmured amiably. It was his most hated small talk subject, sometimes he launched into some conspiracy theories that he didn’t really buy about the government controlling the weather from space in order to weasel out of it. It was incredibly effective. Most people didn’t want to talk to a crazy person, but that was their loss, honestly. Nick learned so much from mentally unstable people, one just had to have the right filter. “Talking about sex is always better. I’ll keep that in mind, though. It’s on the To Do List. I better get on it soon, before it gets too cold.” He realized he’d gone back to weather and laughed, shaking his head a little. “I think ... the last time was in the back of a truck on a camping trip in the desert, that was pretty incredible. Her name was Kelly. Nobody around for miles cuts down on the inhibitions, that’s for sure. Except she wouldn’t do it on the ground, too scared of scorpions.”
"Yes, please don't risk frostbite for an orgasm," Greer said with a solemn nod. She had no idea what to expect from Maine winters, or if she and Dev would even be there when the snow came, but she knew she wouldn't mind it if they were. Maybe she would absolutely hate east coast winters with the harsh wind chill and freezing temperatures. But then again, maybe she would love it and find the beauty in everything being covered in snow and ice. Greer wouldn't know until she experienced it. Greer sighed pleasantly at his memory, closing her eyes as she simply enjoyed the cool night air on her skin. Really, she needed to thank Rost for the weed. It was certainly some of the best she had ever smoked. It was making everything feel amazing. The air, the grass under her feet, Nick's hand that was still holding hers. It could have been a very ordinary conversation otherwise.
"I can't blame Kelly for that. No woman wants a scorpion stinging her in the ass," Greer murmured, her lips twitching. "But you're right... there's an excitement that comes with the risk of getting caught in the act, but there's also a freedom knowing that you won't be. The last time for me was... oh, somewhere in the southwest on our way here, behind a bus station. It certainly wasn't as ideal as being in a truck in the desert, but one doesn't always consider the environment around them when the craving is that strong." She opened her eyes to look up at Nick. "No scorpions to worry about, just nosy people."
Nick was enjoying this conversation, he had to admit. He was used to talking to people about weird things, it was kind of his whole thing, but it didn’t usually feel so nice and floaty. The weed probably had something to do with that, but that didn’t make it any less enjoyable. And Nick got the impression that even without a bit of recreational mind-altering, he would be enjoying talking to Greer. “Cravin’ it behind a bus station,” he murmured with a lazy grin. “Nice. Somehow you make even that sound classy, kudos to you.” She just seemed like one of those ethereal people who didn’t get sullied by all the dirt on the world, they just naturally floated above it. “Y’all will have to christen this yard sometime,” he added, nodding around them. Nick glanced back at the inn, and they seemed far enough away to be hard to see from the patio. “Seems to lack both nosy people and scorpions.”
Greer couldn't help but laugh. "Before it gets cold," she said, nudging him playfully with her elbow. "And... I could probably convince you that a bus station sex can be classy in general, but I think I might be too high to really make any sense of it. But... I'm not entirely opposed to voyeurism. I don't know that I want a massive audience during sex, but if someone were to peek around the bus station, or peer out of a window in the inn behind us, who am I to get offended at their curiosity? I'm the one putting myself out there, right? And who knows, maybe knowing there could be an audience makes things a little better." Greer shrugged and tilted her head back to peer up at the stars again. "This is really nice. I'm glad you wandered out onto the patio tonight. Unfortunately there aren't many people who would be so open to conversation with me."
With her words, Nick’s mind wandered off down a path of wondering if anyone had ever seen him have sex without his knowledge. He’d had an audience a few times, not in a very public way, but there had been some parties that got kind of wild ... never at a bus station though. Or in the yard of an inn. Maybe he ought to change that sometime. Maybe even in this town, if he found anybody interested. Time would tell, work was more of a priority ... except when he was high and body-buzzy and now a little horny thanks to the THC and conversation. Nick chuckled and gave Greer’s hand a soft squeeze. “Then they’re missing out. Talking to interesting people is my favorite part of my work, so ... thanks.” He looked up at the sky for another moment or two, then back at his new friend. “Munchies are settin’ in though, you hungry or anything? I’ve got a stash of snacks in my room. Not hitting on you, promise.”
It was lovely that he thought she was interesting. Greer had been called many things in her lifetime, not all of them very complimentary. But she didn't let it bother her and no one had ever been able to change how she wanted to live her life. She was thankful that the people she had met so far in this town were welcoming to her, even if Nick was nearly as new as she was. And maybe Nick would be someone Greer could seek out, even when they parted ways at Juniper, to spend time with him if he wanted company. Her gaze ticked to his and her lips curved. "That's a shame," she said before her smile widened. "But sure, I wouldn't mind sharing some snacks with you, if you don't mind prolonging our conversation. I could understand if you're feeling mellow enough that you want to be alone, though."
Nick’s brows quirked up and he grinned at the first part. Maybe this town would be more fruitful than he gave it credit for, as far as lovely female companionship. Between Mads and now Greer, he wasn’t doing too bad for himself. “I get my fill of being alone, don’t worry,” he murmured with a faint chuckle. “I almost never mind a prolonged conversation, especially one like this.” He felt like he’d gotten grounded enough by walking around barefoot and looking up at the stars, now he was hungry and ready to lounge. Nick turned them around to start ambling back toward the porch. He considered extending the invitation to her life partner too, but he kind of selfishly didn’t want the extra company. Dynamics changed when other men were in the mix, and Nick was enjoying coasting along with just the two of them.
Greer walked with Nick back toward the patio and their shoes. She didn't have any intention of inviting Dev to join them, although she knew he would enjoy hearing about her new friend when she returned to him later. They never crowded each other, and there was enough trust and understanding that she didn't worry about upsetting him if she spent some time with Nick, not only here, but in his room. And Greer was well aware that if she brought Dev into the fold, Nick might close up a bit, and she didn't want that to happen. When they reached the porch, Greer simply reached down to grab her sandals, not minding so much walking to Nick's room barefoot, though some may find that 'unsanitary'. Greer had just been outside in the grass, so she wasn't terribly concerned. "Which room are you?" she asked, glancing up at the large house they were about to re-enter. All of the rooms seemed to be decorated differently, which was not unusual for B&Bs. But there was one that she could tell was different, and not in a particularly nice way.
Back on the porch, Nick reluctantly let go of Greer’s hand to pick up his own shoes and his iPad -- which he’d all but forgotten about bringing outside with him. Everything felt too tactilely good right then for him to want to cage his feet up again for the short walk to his room. “Uh ... number two,” he answered, having to think about it for a second. He knew right where it was in the house, but he’d barely paid attention to the number. Nick started for the sliding door and opened it again, gesturing Greer inside in front of him. Which was purely a gentlemanly gesture and not at all a quick chance to check out how her hips swayed under that skirt. “I wanted one with a bathroom. Which one are you guys in?”
"Six, upstairs," Greer said as she looked around. It was definitely a quiet evening, though she could hear the chatter of some of the staff down the hall. "We have a bathroom too, though the water pressure is something to be desired." She shrugged and smiled, dangling her sandal straps over one curled finger. "It's still a lovely place. I can tell there's a lot of history here. Not all entirely good, but... fascinating, anyway." She gestured down the hall, assuming room number two was on the same floor as they currently were.
“Yeah, the showers ain’t the best,” Nick drawled. He barely fit into his. He was used to having to duck his head in a lot of the cheaper motels, but this place hadn’t been built for tall people either. He led the way down the hall, kind of liking the plush carpet under his bare feet, and took them to the door of Number Two. Nick slipped the key out of his pocket and unlocked the room, stepping inside ahead of Greer. For a second he couldn’t remember if he’d put his files away, but there was nothing spread out on the bed, so he guessed he had. Good. He looked back at Greer with a crooked grin. “Make yourself at home. Mi casa es su casa and all that.” Nick dropped his shoes and went to where he’d stashed his grocery bags of snacks.
Greer followed Nick into the room, dropping her sandals on the floor by the door. His room was most definitely different than her own, and she started to move around to check it out, mindful of his personal stuff. Greer walked over to the window to peer briefly outside into the dark. "I think in this case it should be mi habitación es tu habitación," she said, flashing Nick a grin before she turned away from the window. Greer was mostly teasing him and she walked over to sit down on the edge of his bed, pulling one leg up on the mattress to curl in toward her. "So how does your process work?" Greer asked as she slid her palm back and forth over the comforter and its texture beneath her. "Do you wander around and take notes of inspiration and then come back here and write in silence?"
Nick dumped some bags of chips and pretzels and various types of candies on the bed and crawled onto it near the headboard to lounge on his side. The showers might have been small, but the beds were excellently comfortable, and he’d been sleeping pretty well there so far. He picked up a bag of Gardettos to pull open, glancing up at Greer again. “At this early point it’s all just notes and pictures and impressions,” Nick told her. He popped a pretzel into his mouth and gave an appreciative hum as he crunched it. “Once I’ve got a rough idea of what I wanna pursue, I’ll start doing interviews, deeper dives into historical records, follow whatever leads I can. I’m thinkin’ this book will have more than one subject, at least a few chapters, there’s a lot here, so ... after I gather everything I’ll start structuring it and actually writing.” He paused, then chuckled. “It’s kinda boring to describe. But I always write with music. What do you do besides reading palms? Don’t think you told me ...”
Greer reached out for a bag of M&Ms and tore it open, happily shaking a couple into her palm before popping them into her mouth. Some people who met her might assume she was some vegan granola hippie, but Greer liked her sugar as much as the next person, especially after smoking a joint. "I can't wait to read it," Greer told him after her mouth was free again. "This town could probably be a series of books if you delved deep enough." She leaned back against the headboard comfortably, enjoying Nick's temporary bedroom as much as she had enjoyed the backyard outside. They were different comforts, but both quite nice. Her lips twitched as she peered into the bag of candies and pulled out a green M&M to eat. "I told you what I did," she reminded him. "It's generally whatever I want. If you mean in terms of a job? Tarot and palm reading. I found that steady income and I don't mesh very well, believe it or not. Money is fabulous, but I don't have the temperament to earn a solid paycheck. I can do just about anything with music, though, like you." She arched a brow and looked over at Nick. "What kind of music do you use to write?"
Nick had meant in terms of income, what she did to pay her way through the world, and he was a little surprised at her answer, though maybe he shouldn’t be. There were people out in the world who seemed to just be taken care of by the universe, who rarely went hungry, who just floated along like leaves in a stream, getting what they needed largely by accident. Not that Greer’s life had been devoid of struggles, he was sure that wasn’t the case. But as a man who’d had a job of some kind ever since he was sixteen, it was hard for Nick to imagine not working. Maybe Greer’s cute Irishman was a provider. Maybe they were independently wealthy. It wasn’t his business, but he was curious anyway. He hummed thoughtfully as he chewed another mouthful. “Depends on the mood I’m going for,” he said. “I’ve got eclectic tastes. Can’t go wrong with some classic rock, sometimes Johnny Cash ... I’ve got a fondness for old country, bein’ where I’m from.” Nick gave her a crooked grin. “Classical, Metallica, some weird electronica, rap ... Like I said, just depends. Every story’s different.”
"I love that word," Greer said with a happy sigh. "Eclectic. It's one of my favorites. But I'm the same... music changes depending on my mood. Not that I'm a writer, but it's such a wonderful expression of emotion... most of the time. Some of it is just awful." She pulled out another M&M and popped it into her mouth. The sugar was nice, satisfying her THC induced cravings. It was probably better to munch on Nick's snacks than to run her hands over his skin. Greer always loved how bodies felt under her hands when she was high. "I know you're just starting here, but what kind of music do you think you'll be listening to here in Point Pleasant? I don't see it as a classical kind of town, do you?"
“Is it, though?” Nick suggested with a quirked brow. “Just awful, I mean. Even the stuff that sounds the worst to your ears, somebody somewhere connects to it. That’s the beauty of it all, I think. We all live on different frequencies.” He chuckled at how high that probably sounded and tried to focus on Greer’s questions. “Every place has its soundtrack ... maybe a really dark classical,” he mused. “Greig or Stravinsky or something. Or Tool.” Nick grinned at her, kind of wishing they were closer together. Even with a small pile of snacks between them, lounging on the bed with a lovely interesting woman was having its effect on him. “But hopefully there’ll be some brighter spots too,” he added in a murmur with a coy little smirk.
Greer giggled a little, resting her head back against the headboard for a brief moment. "But see, we're not talking about music that resonates with others. We're talking about music that resonates with us. And to me, there is some truly awful music. And I'm positive that there are plenty of people out there who would say the same about my tastes. So yes, there's a beauty in it. We can't all have amazing musical tastes." Did any of that make any sense? Her brain was so pleasantly fuzzy and floaty and Greer wasn't entirely sure how they had gotten to this particular topic. She smiled at him and reached over to twirl a strand of his hair on top of his head around her finger. "You will absolutely find some bright spots. Your playlist for this town will be eclectic, I'm sure."
It made a certain amount of stoned sense to Nick, but that wasn’t really the point. He was enjoying the flow of conversation, what they were actually talking about didn’t really matter. It all would probably sound stupid to someone whose consciousness wasn’t shifted like theirs were a the moment, but nobody else was around, so who gave a shit? Nick chuckled over Greer’s assessment and murmured, “Well, you know what they say about opinions and assholes.” His eyelids drooped slightly at the feel of her fingers in his hair, and Nick leaned into it a bit. “I hope so,” he added softly. “I am an experience junkie at heart.” He moved his closest hand to brush his fingers against Greer’s arm. She was soft.
"Then I think that's something we have in common," Greer said. She could get restless, locked into the same day to day routines. Dev was her one constant... probably the only constant she'd ever had, in all honesty. She particularly liked it when Nick touched her arm. She already knew what his hands felt like from reading his palm when they met, but she could tell that he knew how to use them... in a multitude of ways. She particularly liked how he leaned into her touch. So many men enjoyed it when she played with their hair, and Greer ran her fingers through his again. "Have you enjoyed this experience?" Greer asked, her tone laced with a playful teasing. "I wouldn't want to leave you behind tonight feeling disappointed."
Like most people, Nick enjoyed being touched, especially when his supply of human contact was so sporadic. He was inclined to soak it up while it was there, and Greer’s fingers running through his hair felt especially amazing with the buzz he still had going. It made him want to purr. “Mmhmm. Disappointment is the last thing I’m feeling,” he murmured, his eyes closing briefly. Nick opened one of them back up to squint at Greer a little, still lightly tracing her skin with the tips of his fingers. “Is that a hint that you’re leaving soon?” he asked, a small smirk crossing his face. He didn’t want her to, but at the same time maybe it was for the best, given the direction his mood was going. He hadn’t even met her partner officially, and he’d just had a date with another woman, blah blah, all those mundane reasons that seemed dim and unimportant at the moment.
"I'm leaving eventually," Greer corrected with a grin. "But not soon. At least I hope not, unless you have some work to do." She doubted that, given he had smoked a joint with her and was looking rather content and lazy at the moment, just as she was sure she was. Greer wasn't thinking about Dev, though she was sure he would approve, or any potential lady friend of Nick's. Adults had their own minds and made their own choices... she so very rarely did that for them. Since it seemed like the right thing to do, Greer shifted down until she was on her side facing Nick, her head propped up against her hand. She let her free hand reached out to touch his face, scratching lightly against his beard. Dev was usually clean shaven or sporting a five o'clock shadow, but she quite liked facial hair like Nick's - and Rost's. Or maybe she just liked any reason she had to touch.
That was another thing Nick loved -- women’s fingers in his beard. It didn’t feel at all surprising that Greer was good at being touchy though, she just seemed like that kind of person. Nick shifted one leg to sweep some of the snacks out of the way so he could scoot his body in closer, until there were only a few inches between them from head to toe. He gazed at her, finding it interesting to be in this position fully clothed and not really in a hurry to change that. It was so close and intimate, it wasn’t a spot he generally found himself with someone he hadn’t just fucked. “No work, just this,” he murmured belatedly. “... if I work up the nerve to kiss you, do you promise I won’t have an angry Irishman beating down my door?” Nick half-grinned lazily at her.
Greer couldn't help but tilt her back a little as laughter bubbled up into her throat. Not because he'd asked to kiss her in a roundabout way - which was very sweet - but because it was difficult for Greer to imagine Dev angry. He was the master of brooding, if that was his mood at the time, but he was so rarely angry. "I promise," Greer said as she let her hand rest against his jaw. "My Irishman is as free with his love as I am with mine. I know it's a difficult concept for some people, but I promise that you'll have nothing to worry about, in any capacity." Dev wouldn't feel threatened, and Greer was not a clingy woman, before or after sex. She was happy enough to enjoy physical and emotional pleasures of all kinds, and then be on her way, waiting for the next thing to come along and interest her. Nick didn't seem like the type of man to mind that, so she closed the distance between them and slid her hand back into his hair as she kissed him.
Nick understood polyamory well enough, it wasn’t hard to get, it was just sometimes hard to trust that everybody was on the same page. He’d seen some nasty drama unfold before, and wanted no part of it. But Greer seemed on the level, and if she wasn’t ... well, Nick could hopefully point her angry Irishman back in her direction. She’d promised, after all, and for some reason that seemed like enough to his high mind. If it was all cool with her man, then it was all cool with Nick. He supposed he would find out. He enjoyed watching her laugh, regardless, and didn’t hesitate to tilt his head a bit when Greer moved in to kiss him. Nick let his eyes close, liking the way warmth pooled deep in his stomach at the gentle contact. His hand came up to rest on the curve of Greer’s waist, fingers pressing in just a bit as he slowly moved his lips over hers. Kissing was its own art, and he didn’t understand the men who rushed through it, especially when intoxicated. Delicious.
Kissing someone new was just as fascinating to Greer as reading their palms for the first time. Though she didn't get to experience the former as often as she did the latter, for obvious reasons. It was difficult to find people who understood and respected her relationship with Dev well enough that they could all find common enough ground long enough to enjoy the carnal pleasures that life provided. That's why Rost felt so special. He was a kindred spirit for she and Dev and he was quickly starting to feel like theirs. But Nick also seemed like the kind of man who would harbor no expectations of her, just as she wouldn't harbor any for him. Perhaps they could even become better friends after this, would that be lovely? He was a good kisser, confident and firm. Greer parted her lips slightly for his to taste him, her hand clinging gently to the dark strands of his hair. Greer was in no hurry. She wanted to enjoy every moment of this while she could, because these kind of experiences were so fleeting, and before she knew it, it would be over.
Nick had learned a long time ago not to put expectations on people. That was a surefire way to end up disappointed. Once he’d given up on having a stable, normal relationship, that had been even easier to do. The women who came in and out of his life were temporary distractions, people to be enjoyed while their paths were running parallel and then let go when it was time to diverge again. He tried to stay up front about that, if they didn’t seem like they already knew. Greer seemed like a woman who would intuitively understand it. Maybe that was why he’d been drawn to her to start with. Rather enjoying the grip in his hair, Nick edged in a little closer so they were lightly pressed together, his hand slowly rubbing at Greer’s back while they kissed. He dipped his tongue into her mouth, light and teasing, and she tasted like weed and chocolate and it was perfect. With a soft, low hum, he deepened the kiss a bit more, lost in the warmth of it.
Every stroke of his tongue against hers intensified the heat that had sparked in her belly. He was as skilled with his mouth as she knew he was with his hands and Greer was more than happy to kiss him deep and slow. There was no worry about being a distraction. Life was full of them, many of them happy distractions, like this was. Her body certainly agreed. Greer felt like she could kiss him for hours, until their lips were swollen and puffy and they were both mindless with arousal. Nick wasn't aggressive nor did he feel impatient, so Greer released his hair and slipped her hand beneath his shirt to brush her fingers over his abs and up toward his chest. He felt solid against her palm, clearly someone who took pride in his health and appearance. Greer hummed a soft, happy noise of her own before she nipped gently at his lower lip before kissing him deeply again.