Neil felt more than a little reluctant to call Rost. The last time he'd called him it had been about his girlfriend possibly being a demonic succubus and now... Well, something similar and more founded in reality. Neil wasn't sure just how much he should tell Rost and he'd never been great at communication, let alone subtle niceties. He had to do it though, he and the other dreamers had all agreed to find out more about the people who'd gotten hurt in the fog and he couldn't be the only one slacking. He smoked first, soothing his nerves a little before he picked up the phone and looked Rost up. It was pretty typical that one of the extremely few people he sort of considered friends would be someone connected to this entire mess. This might even blow up whatever friendship they had and Neil's chest felt tight as he waited for Rost to pick up. It was late in the afternoon, he should be awake, but it was possible he was still at the cemetery doing his job. Neil had never understood how he could work there, the place was intensely creepy, but somehow Rost was well suited for it. Negative energy flowed off him like water off a duck's back - unlike Neil who felt like he was a sponge for it. He was visualizing the duck thing when he heard Rost's voice on the line and cleared his throat awkwardly. "Rostislav," he mumbled. "Am I interrupting?"
Rost was still in the graveyard, but he was finishing up for the day when his phone rang in the pocket of his thick coveralls. He’d gotten done with what he needed to do, and he was in the main shed cleaning up now. And maybe he was lingering over it a bit because he felt a tiny bit better in the cemetery than he did at home. More like himself. Emotionally, anyway, he was still dragging energy-wise. He put away the shovel he was holding and fished it out before it went to voicemail, hitting the green button without even looking at the caller ID with a gruff sort of ‘hello?’ Rost recognized the voice immediately, even if it was mumbly, and smiled faintly. “Neil, my friend,” he said. “No, you are not. I am just preparing to fly some coops, as they say. How are you?” He tucked the phone against his shoulder and reached for some more of the tools in his wheelbarrow to put them away.
Stressed, nervous, worried, overcome with anxiety. Neil had a few good words for how he felt but saying them out loud felt overly dramatic and attention seeking so he didn't. "Getting by," he mumbled instead. "I'm calling because, well, the last time we spoke you told me your girlfriend was one of the people attacked in the fog and- well I just... We're looking into people who got hurt so I thought, maybe I could pick your brain a little." Why was this so uncomfortable, he wondered. He didn't want to worry Rost but at the same time he probably deserved to know that all of Neil's theories and paranoid ramblings the last time they spoke might just be true. What if he was in danger? What if those dreams with the red eyes was a warning? Could Neil live with himself if he didn't do anything to prevent Rost from coming to harm?
Rost should have guessed that was why Neil was calling, he realized. He hadn’t forgotten about Neil’s dream, but it had mostly been overshadowed by the conversation they’d had with Shayna Mae O’Reilly and her familiar. He hadn’t followed up on it with Neil, because ... well, it was a lot to take in all on its own, and he’d been pretty lethargic and braindead lately, especially when he wasn’t working. But now he’d had a day full of fresh air and Rost felt marginally better, so perhaps this was the best environment to have this conversation. He found a place to perch inside the shed and gave a soft sigh. “Yes,” he said. “And I am knowing even more now, so ... pick away.”
"You... You know more?" Neil asked and while it didn't exactly make him perk up - this wasn't a good thing - it gave him a small rush of some sort of a hopeful feeling. "Well, uhm, I'd like to know whatever you've found out and I wanted to ask if she's been - acting strange. Mood swings, uhm... Anything out of the ordinary. And if you - if you know anyone else who was hurt in the fog." He didn't think he could tell Rost that the ongoing theory was that all these people were somehow infected with something evil, that there might be some twisted war on the horizon. Rost was his friend and Neil didn't have many of those, talking shit about his girlfriend was one sure fire way of ruining that friendship.
Rost felt like what he knew about this situation could fill a thimble, and he was probably right. But he knew more than he had when he’d talked to Neil the last time, so his statement was still true. He sighed softly again and rubbed at his eyes. “Yes, we are far out of ordinary,” he said, his voice full of regret. “She is moody, unpredictable, not like herself. The wound she received healed so fast, unnatural. My boyfriend ... he feels things, when he touches them? And he felt something strange when she was sleeping.” That part was difficult to explain, and he wasn’t sure how much Neil believed in psychics anyway. Or any of this. “We took her to a witch, whose brother was also hurt the same, and they are seeing the same from him. It is all ... very tiring. She could not help us yet, but she is trying.”
Neil could only guess what Rost meant by feeling things and the girlfriend and boyfriend thing was weird enough on its own without some possibly psychic things being involved. "I know there's a certain propriety and uh... secrecy but it's vital that I know who this man is. The witch's brother." Because of course there were more witches in town, his life just wasn't weird enough already. He didn't think this brother person was any of the people he knew about so far unless it was the same man as Nic knew of and was trying to figure out more about through his sister's boyfriend. This was such a game of six degrees, it was exhausting! "We are trying to find everyone who's been affected because something... something is very wrong, Rostislav. The dreams are getting more and more vivid, it feels like something more is about to happen."
There was a sinking feeling in the pit of Rost’s stomach that got deeper with every word Neil spoke. He didn’t respond for a moment or two, staring hard at the dirty wood planks between his boots and chewing on that. He knew Neil had vision dreams, and he trusted that they were legit just as he trusted Devlin’s powers and Greer’s intuition. He knew something was very wrong, didn’t he? Deep down, he did. “His name is Max O’Reilly,” he said finally, feeling like he was betraying a trust, but he didn’t know to what end. That probably made it even worse. “But they live out of town, in the woods, so you might not know him.” Rost didn’t really know the man himself, he’d been in jail for several years, but that didn’t seem pertinent to tell Neil. “What will you do with this knowledge? What is coming?”
"To be completely honest," Neil said hesitantly. "I don't know. I wish I did, I wish we- I wish it was all clear. We are going to try to induce a dream with my friend who uh, she can manipulate dreams. We are hoping we can find some answers if we take control." God he was stuttering over the simplest words now and he reached for his joint to relight it. "I just want it to end, maybe we can find out something, if we get everyone together someone may have an idea that could help." He didn't really believe that but they had to have some sort of plan, they had to try to do something. Neil wasn't normally very proactive in his life, he avoided conflict and he hid away as best he could, but this wasn't something he could hide away from - this was happening in his head.
Rost didn’t even question that Neil knew someone who could manipulate dreams. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard of such a thing, though he’d never met anyone personally who could do it, and it was one of those powers that might’ve been fiction. Now he knew it wasn’t, though, and he didn’t hesitate to believe it. Neil sounded genuinely upset by all of this, which comforted Rost somehow. He didn’t think the timid librarian would mean Greer or Max O’Reilly harm, but people were capable of unbelievable things sometimes. “I want the same, the end. If I find out anything else, I will tell you,” he said, meaning that honestly. He liked Neil, skittish as he was, and right then any help he could find for Greer was help he wanted. “And you will do the same? If you find a plan, tell me if I can help, yes?”
"Of course," Neil said softly and wondered if Rost could help. He was so close to this, could he keep an open mind and do what had to be done if things got bad? Neil doubted it and so he knew the prudent thing to do was to keep him out of the loop for the most part, the problem was he didn't want to. "There are nine people that we know of," he said and it was starting to feel like too much. If they were infected with something - if they turned hostile - how were the four of them supposed to handle that? There were too many of them - there were probably even more - and in Neil's mind it started looking more and more like a darkness spreading over town, spreading like a plague, ominous and everywhere. "There are probably more, if we talk to everyone, maybe we can figure out what they all have in common, perhaps we could get medical examinations done, work on a... an antidote if it's an infection from their injuries." Even as he spoke he knew that was not going to happen. Normal infections didn't involve dreams and monsters, just like poor Carson couldn't stroll into Mercy Hospital for an anti-werewolf shot.
Rost listened to Neil talk, nodding a bit even though he was alone. It sounded like a good place to start, he supposed. He wished he had more helpful information to give, but he just didn’t. All he could do was keep waiting and watching and hoping for the best. And check in with Shayna Mae, which he fully intended on doing. Perhaps she’d made some progress somewhere, had some answers for them. Or at least ideas. “I wish you the best,” he told Neil sincerely. “And I will keep in touch. Many minds make easy work, as they say.” He almost repeated that Neil should let him know if there was anything he could do, but Rost felt like both of them were fairly certain there wasn’t. This was beyond him, he just wanted to ensure Greer turned out all right.
Neil didn't think this had a happy ending and he wondered if he should share that with Rost.. He opted for no, the man was worried enough and it felt too much like antagonizing him to be worth whatever small comfort Neil might take in sharing the burden. Rost was right, this was beyond him as it was beyond all of them and that was no indication of their shortcomings. "Just... keep an eye on Greer, let me know if anything changes suddenly or if anything feels off." He wondered if these people were also having dreams now or if seeing them had just been a warning, not connected directly to them in any way. "I will speak with you again soon, Rostislav. Be careful."