tapestodiane | 028

Windom Earle.

[He can't help but repeat it, even though it's not like the name needs the repetition for any more emphasis than it already carries. Nor does it need to be said to rattle Coop any more than it already has, but there's no helping that now, not if Windom is already here; he'll have done enough of that on his own already.

And understanding the conundrum of Johto just got a lot less important in the face of this new, much bigger consideration.]

You saw him?

He saw me.

_{[He takes a moment, looks past Albert to where he knows that forest probably lies, except his pacing mysteriously brought him a few towns over and he actually has no idea where he is anymore because he hasn't checked his gear since he made those calls.]

[When he looks back, he's only halfway hiding what that meeting left him with.]}

He's ... changed, Albert. Rationally, this is something I already knew. But I wasn't prepared to see it up front.

_{[He speaks in the usual business pace, but it's mismatched to how soft his tone is.]}

[Well, that adds a new and terrifying dimension to the business, and the hand that's already on Coop's shoulder tightens a little in response; his other hand immediately goes to work as well, starting at his other shoulder, but running down the line of his chest and over his torso, checking for holes in the fabric, patches of dampness that might be blood. He seems coherent enough, steady enough, that an injury isn't likely — but then, this is Coop, who once invoked some Tibetan mojo and pushed through two broken ribs to keep after his case. And meeting Windom Earle in person has a nasty way of ending in stab wounds, as the two of them both know all too well.

Windom took him to the brink of death once. Albert's not about to let that fly a second time. Not on his watch]

He's cracked, Coop. You and I both knew that a long time ago.

[And maybe only one of them accepted it a long time ago.]

_{[He let's Albert look him over without protest, knowing he won't find anything. In many ways, that's another small comfort he's happy to accept. And he keeps talking, because being able to do that is yet another one. Albert's one of the very few who knows the whole story and one of the only two Cooper trusts enough to share these things with.]

[The other is Diane.]

[He shakes his head, speaks to a spot above Albert's left shoulder.]}

Not like this. There's a new purpose to his madness, Albert. Different from the last time I saw him.

[He keeps looking anyway as he listens, as much to give himself something to focus on as whatever incidental benefits will come of fussing over Coop like this; he's precise enough and observant enough that a once-over told him there are no injuries, but he keeps looking anyway, like he's checking for the scars Windom left on Coop's psyche instead of on his body.

There's a sort of bitter realization, one that he's already accepted, in that there is ultimately nothing he can do to protect Coop from Windom Earle. Aid him, guide him, support him? Yes. But he knows he's a side character in the ongoing drama between the two of them, and it is between the two of them — Windom will make sure to keep it that way, and prevent any interference he deems encroaching.

He can't protect Coop. Couldn't then, can't now. But he can do this much.]

Whatever he told you, he's baiting you. You know how he works. Don't let it get in your head — that's just what he wants.

You know that's easier said than done.

_{[But he says that just a smidge lighter, somehow. His face is still haunted, the darkness beneath his eyes a little more pronounced, but he already feels much calmer in this familiar presence. He lifts a hand to Albert's shoulder in a mirror of the grip that's firm on his own. It's an quiet attempt to still his methodical searching as well as unspoken "I'm okay", which they both know isn't true, but physically, it stands.]

[There's a moment where he watches Albert's face seriously, the way he usually looks at people; reading them, gauging them. He doesn't smile but the (usual blunt) sincerity in his words makes it clear that were it any other time, he would.]}

But I always appreciate your advice. I've missed you.

[And he does let his hand still at the implicit request, holding it there a minute before finally letting it return to his side. It's a small gesture that speaks volumes — understanding, acquiescence, resignation. Cooper's not okay, and won't be, but he'll play along this time, at his request and for his sake. He knows how this dance goes.]

I should've guessed you had an ulterior motive for dragging me up to the middle of nowhere every other week. Just can't do without me, huh?

[And then, as if remembering something, his hand goes into his pocket and retrieves a small package, which he holds between them in implicit offering.]

Here. Courtesy of Diane.

[It's a rather lumpy bundle, paper and string, containing three things: a pack of three blank tapes, a pair of earplugs, and a small box of...chocolate bunnies.]

_{[He would have said something more or less clever in response to that, but he's distracted by the appearance of the package. He takes it gingerly, like it's fragile, and turns it over slowly before untying the string, working quietly with the knot and unfolds the paper with just as much care.]

[He can't help a small smile at the contents. And something breaks a little in him at the tapes, the sight of them already nostalgic and bittersweet, because he can't use them here and it makes him deeply sad. It's just not right not to have them. He blinks, pockets them and the earplugs, and directes the mild, tired smile to Albert.]}

Thank you.

_{[And he just sort of stands there, the box of chocolate held in his hands like it's treasure.]}

[He shrugs, nonchalant; it's not the first time Diane has cabbaged onto him as an errand boy, and it won't ~~or so he thinks~~ be the last. But Coop, he's holding onto these trinkets like they're diamonds, and that can't possibly be solely because of whatever Windom did to him. There's too much else there, too much emotion at the offhand gift to stem solely from his former partner's influence alone.]

So you want to explain to me what the hell is going on here? More importantly, where is that incessant racket coming from and how do we shut it off?

[No, he does not like your background music.]

I'm afraid you'll have to get used to it.

_{[Tough break, son, it's staying. Cooper barely hears it anymore, but Albert calling attention to it has him remembering how long it took him to tune out.]

[He turns his head to search for the Poochyena. He didn't forget about her and he's secretly amused at just how appropriate that starter is.]

[Assuming it is a starter, of course. He hopes so.]}

And I realize how this is going to sound, but try to keep an open mind when I tell you this: this place is called Johto. It's a different world.

[There's a moment where he looks like he almost wants to say something, even despite Coop's warning and qualification, because that's all fiction and impossibility and quiet obviously nonsense.

And so were the giant and the dwarf. So.

Besides, Coop in a good mood might make a joke, but a prank like that? Not likely. And Coop in a foul mood is even less likely to tell him anything but the truth, which makes the story pretty reliable, even in its implausibility.]

Leave it to you to stumble into another world. Especially one with bad elevator music and no off switch on the radio.

[He shakes his head, still with traces of his usual skepticism, but only in a token, superficial way.]

What about the dog? Is she supposed to be my spirit guide or something?

I didn't stumble, Albert, and neither did you. I believe we were pulled.

_{[This is a serious piece of information. He's yet to work out how or why, but he feels certain about that much. Which is, at least to Coop, a lot more worrying.]

[Because that indicates powers with some kind of purpose.]

[But with his attention redirected by the "spirit guide" comment, a faint amusement eases the seriousness in his expression, mostly shown in a fraction of a raise of his eyebrows.]}

I'd use the word "partner". Significantly less mystical but not without the ability to, yes, guide.

[And naturally, the distinction is one that Albert doesn't miss.]

You mean it's intentional. Someone wants us here?

[With Windom Earle on the loose, he's not at all pleased with that implication. What's next, another foray into the exploration of evil? Another Leland Palmer? Another Josie Packard?]

The only place she's been guiding me is in hot pursuit of squirrels and the occasional bush to do business under.

[Seated loyally at Albert's side, the Poochyena looks utterly proud, and tries desperately to wag its tail while still sitting on it, which doesn't work out very well.]

_{[And not missing it is what makes him so easy to communicate with. Although they don't always see eye to eye, when it comes down to it, they still work well together, and the way they talk to each other is just one of the ways it shows.]

[So Cooper nods. That's what he thinks, ever since he noticed the starters.]}

I believe so. But I don't know for what reason, much less who is responsible and how they're doing it.

_{[But honestly, it's not a pressing matter in his mind anymore. When he first arrived he spent a lot of time searching, trying to find answers, a way back. Now he can't say confidently that he wants either.]

[There is a tug at his mouth, though, when he looks at the Poochyena - then back to Albert, almost as if comparing the two.]}

She's still a dog, Albert. That's how they come.

Then you take her. Maybe she can help you with your little llama problem.

[He clears his throat, not about to snicker at Coop (though for anyone else, he would), but making it clear that he certainly could have in response to that quirk at the corner of Coop's mouth. He gives as good as he gets, after all, and one verbal jab deserves another.]

So where do we start in figuring it out?

[No hesitation about possibilities or doubts. It's old familiar operating procedure, Coop calling the shots regardless of how crazy they seem, and familiarity is a good thing, in Albert's opinion. Particularly given the other circumstances of this little adventure.]

I have several dogs already, Albert. This one's yours.

_{[And no matter what Albert says, he has a feeling they could learn to get along. Albert might does not outwardly show a lot of affection, but it's always there, and getting to express it to someone that won't judge him might be good for him.]

[It's done wonders for Coop, after all.]

[He's quiet for a moment, though. Searching for something in his mind and not quite finding it.]

[The real answer there is "I don't know", or "I don't know yet", maybe. But there's something else that's a bit more relevant.]}

Do you know the name of the place you arrived in?

Yeah, a little town in the middle of nowhere full of dead people and rumors of paranormal phenomena. Someone's got a sick sense of humor.

[Albert's Poochyena, meanwhile, is going to get up and trot off to investigate the nearest tree, but not after giving a significant look to both men in her midst. She's not leaving her master's side, really! There are just.

Squirrels.

And maybe a duck.

Pretty sure she smells a duck.]

I think they called it Lavender.

_{[There's a shift in Cooper's eyes at that, when he figures that in all likelihood Albert's not going to stay, come the end of these three days. It makes him sad to think about, but on the other hand, Albert is there now, and that's still important. And he's still very, very happy for it.]

[He still can't help but worry about Windom, though. Who apparently started in the right place. It could be nothing, but it could just as easily be the opposite.]}

I've never had the pleasure, _{[he says, softly, and sticks his hands into his pockets,]} but I have heard some of the lore.

_{[He seems to hesitate, then,]}

That "sick sense of humour" makes itself known more frequently than you'd think.

[Something about what he said upset Coop. That much is obvious, and anyone who tries to tell him otherwise is a naive idiot who has no idea how to read the nuances of Dale Cooper like Albert does. The annoying thing is, he has no idea what is upsetting about the place he described, save for maybe the possible similarity to Twin Peaks — and unless Coop's gotten overly nostalgic in the time since Albert last saw him (possible, given Coop, but not likely), that can't be it, either.

Irritating, that.]

What'd it come up with for you?

[Because it's not exactly hard to guess, okay.]

Owls.

_{[It's simple, but significant. Albert might not have much faith in what comes to Cooper in his visions, and he might not be aware of how important owls in particular seem to be, but even if he only remembers the phrase (not what they seem) he'd know about Cooper's aversion to birds.]

[It's too personal, too specific to be a coincidence.]

[And it's with a grim state of mind he recalls Windom's owl, too. Nasty-looking thing, yet familiar just because of what it was.]}

The woods are full of them.

[Another observation, clinical and objective. He knows Coop's issues with birds and isn't trying to exacerbate them; it's more an acknowledgement that, for a man so aversive to them, this isn't exactly the best of places.

The Poochyena, on the other hand? She appears to know that word, owls, and takes off snarling through the woods.]

Damn it. Something's gotten into her.

[He is not yelling her name across the forest, okay. Not a chance.]

_{[Cooper looks after her with a frown. He'd acknowledged Albert's observation and, perhaps, the nonverbal implication of it, but whatever he'd been meaning to say in response is put in the back of his mind when he watches the Dark-type. They could lose her, he thinks distantly.]

[Something is happening, is what seems more pressing.]}

Then maybe we should follow.

_{[He says it like a mild suggestion, but he's already on her trail. Not running, just following.]}

[Well, it's not like he's about to split off from Coop now, even if he did have somewhere else to go or any idea what to really do about Johto in the first place.

The Poochyena is moving fast, and for a minute or two she's far enough ahead that she's out of line of sight, but she's going in a straight line and it's not difficult to catch up.

And when they do, they will find her camped out in a small clearing opposite a wild Hoothoot, who is launching attack after attack at her — and strangely, she isn't responding with a single one of her own, opting instead to stand there and take it with the occasional grunt and whimper.

But then, at some point, something seems to click and she makes her move, bounding forward and pouncing on it, then carefully picks it up in her jaws and trots over with it — unharmed but subdued — to display proudly to her master and his friend.]

_{[Cooper stands still when he watches the scene with a feeling of calm. Calm and trust, specifically, towards the Poochyena. He doesn't like seeing her harmed but he's convinced she knows exactly what she's doing - and thus when she leaps at it and traps it, he's not surprised.]

[He's solemn, though, when he steps aside. Not because he's scared of the Hoothoot in her mouth so much as out of respect, and consideration. And thoughts. Because there'd something profound about that display, and something had happened, and he was mulling it over even as he was watching the pair; his friend and his companion.]

[The owls are not what they seem. But maybe whatever they are can be fought with peace.]}

[Albert makes no move to take the Hoothoot from her, either, which sort of perplexes her because look, don't they see that she caught one of the owls? It's like they were talking about and she caught one! Right here! Owl!

And of course, Albert wants nothing to do with it, so it's not like he's going to catch it for his roster, either.]

Great. Looks like she's a bird dog.

[His humor is the driest.]

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