On the southern tip of the Bronx, almost hidden by the Third Avenue Bridge ramp, in the shrinking remnant of an old industrial neighborhood (once the heart of the American piano industry) being overtaken by modern high rises, one establishment seems just a little out of place.  Or maybe, out of time.  The building and decor comes from another era, perhaps when men wore hats and referred to women as "dames".  Somehow, through several name changes, this old corner bar has survived.  So strong is its sense of being out of time that it is a fairly common film set.  Places like this somehow attract Fey folk.  Maybe it's the sense of being not truly of the modern world.

For Proge, maybe it's also the proximity to his place of work.  He's been coming here for a long time.  Longer than most.  The patrons here are evenly divided between the recent, younger, hipper kind and the older ones like Proge.  The menu now sports things like "quinoa black bean burger" for the newcomers.  Spanish is as common as English, that's the norm for the neighborhood.

The two characters find Proge here, who is not surprised to see his old friend, but a little puzzled about the young woman he's with.

"You, uh, with Grems here?" the short, weathered, and somewhat rumpled looking man asks.

"Hey!" hailed loudly Gremian with a big smile on his face. He walked with bigger steps to meet his friend. He shook his friend's hand. He looked at Alisa. "Yeah! she's new at the library, at the reception desk for the time being. She's helping me with a library's research project. So Pr... Pablo, this is Alisa, Alisa, this is Pablo, my friend. Did you spotted any nice trinkets at work today?" Gremian asked his friend casually.

At being introduced, Alisa reached out to offer a handshake and a smile. If Gremian sat down, she would as well, or remain standing otherwise, following his cues for the most part.

- "Pleased to meet you."

She then looked at Gremian for a moment as he casually asked his question, before turning back to Pablo, seemingly interested in the conversation, though not actively participating in it herself. From what Gremian had said, she was helping him on a research project, which narrowed down what she could and could not say. Listening more would, she hoped, helped determine which memories he had lost simply by following the conversation. Was it a certain time period, or random memories in general, or... heck, it could even be Gremian who was suffering from psychosis. She would need to think her actions through carefully.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:10, Tue 23 June 2020.

Proge looks a little confused for a moment, when Gremian mentions doing research at the library.

"You work at a library?  How come I didn't know that?" he asks, sounding absolutely sincere.  "You'd think you would have told me, sometime, you worked at... I mean, that sounds fancy, you doing research like a college professor when you're..."

He pauses, lost in thought.

"I always thought you did something more... more blue collar.  Real work.  I never figured you for the professor type.  How come I never knew?"

Proge looks genuinely confused, as if he knows he ought to know, but is just... drawing a blank.

Keeping her ears open, Alisa had specifically been looking for the signs of amnesia when Proge had run into something he could not remember, or, to be more specific, could not recall having forgotten. She glanced at Gremian as well, pausing for a moment when, almost from the edge of her vision, he seemed more... academic somehow. But that wasn't the odd thing about it. What felt odd about it was the sense of... familiarity. Not that she knew Gremian from before, but more like... The slight change felt the same as when she had been focusing on Flea earlier, and thought she had been seeing things in much the same way. Regardless, she shook it off again, writing it off as associative suggestion: What was important was Proge, right now. She leaned forward.

- "Wait-- Sorry for interrupting, but you sound like you should know?"

She kept her voice pleasant, even if a little inquisitive, trying to sound like she was just taking part in the conversation. It would not do to fling an accusation of drugs or an alcohol problem in Proge's face, even if those were the most common cases of amnesia. It would be best to ease him into it by having the conversation drift towards it naturally, and talk of forgetfulness, that would end up leading right to the questions she wanted to ask, and likely Gremian would as well.

Proge leans forward a little.  He still looks puzzled.  He speaks after a moment's hesitation.

"You'd think that, wouldn't you?  I mean, me and Gremian, we hang out, sometimes we've gone fishing in my boat... aw, damn, still gotta get that fixed, I need one of those fiberglass patch kits... but you'd think I would know where he works.  I... maybe he said library before... but Gremmy.. you'd think maybe he meant cleaning out their ducts or something like that.  But doing research!  Wow!  I wouldn't a thought that.  My friend is a professor!"

Gremian looked at his hands for a moment. Then he looked at his friend. "Hum, no, no, not a professor." corrected Gremain. "I still got most of my money from selling my clockwork dolls. It's Dennis, one of the librarian, who's in charge of the research project. I'm just helping him and mostly because I love to hang out at the library and the research team is a good squadron." Gremian glanced at Alisa to see how she would react to his slang. "And well, talking about air ducts, that's remind me that I should ask to check them again, because, I'm sure there a few loose bolts in there. Maybe even a lost toy or something. Maybe I'll get to climbed in those again after the research is done." He said with the smile (or a grin, he was showing his sharp teeth) of a kid thinking of Christmas morning.

"Enough about me... what happened to your boat? "

Alisa chuckled softly when Pablo seemed impressed to discover Gremian was an actual professor, but in a friendly manner, more like she was getting caught up in his elation. Gremian's use of slang did not bother her, she had already assumed before coming to New York that the people here would have different terms for local stuff than in most other parts of the States. She figured 'squadron' to be one of those words, and could already figure out the context based on the rest of what Gremian had said, so there was no real reason to ask about it right now.

With regards to Pablo, she figured she already had an opening to use, a conversation hook to dangle out to see if he would bite. But, given with what she knew about Pablo -- which was next to nothing -- she figured it was better to wait for his response first, hopefully talking about his boat would help put his mind at ease. What she was trying to do worked best if his guard was down.

"Oh, the boat.. yeah I got to fix that.  It's a pretty weird story.  Okay, I went fishing, headed up towards the Sound.  It was just on my own, I just wanted to get away.  I do that sometimes.

"So, this storm comes up.  Not on any of the weather reports and I always check before I go out, you know that.  Only thing is, it's like, a very little storm.  It's little and it's right over Fort Schulyer, the old fort by the Throggs Neck Bridge.  I mean, this was a small storm, but the lightening there was intense, and the water was all worked up and dangerous.
 I'm passing Orchard Beach and the water is pounding so there's nothing to do but hold on.

"And the boat is bouncing... it must have bounced me hard because I'm still kinda fuzzy on what happened next.  There was people in their boats going as fast as the could to get out of there.  There was this woman, would you believe, swimming naked right towards those nice condos on City Island... I was thinking one day after I saved some more I could live there.  Anyway, she's swimming in the water, and she's a really good swimmer, but the water was rough, so I thought maybe she needed help.  I turn after her.  Big mistake.  I shout, she doesn't need my help, water is pounding and sloshing and getting in the boat, she just swims and swims and gets to the shore and runs towards the buildings, naked a baby.  Long red hair."

"But my boat took a beating.  The storm just ends, gone, just like it came.  I take the boat back home, shaking all the way.  Haven't been back out on it since.  Haven't even looked at it.  Maybe I'm not over it, cause... funny thing.. until you asked, I haven't even thought about it that much.  Maybe I wanted to put it out of my mind.  Subconscious and all that."

- "Actually, uncle of mine had that."

Alisa piped up, figuring this would be as good a time as any to help steer the conversation a little away from strange naked ladies.

- "Not the miniature storm, i mean, the forgetfulness. He'd been having trouble sleeping so he went and tried out some sleep meds. Thing is, they worked a little too well, and apparently those can sometimes cause amnesia. It's due to one of the ingredients: I could tell you the name, but odds are it won't ring any bells. Been taking sleeping pills, if you don't mind me asking?"

She finished with a smile at Proge, again giving the impression the three of them were just making casual conversation and she was making an effort to participate.

Gremian leaned forward Proge as the goblin told his story. Gremian was a the edge of his seat. "Wow! that a weird storm! And strong. I'm not mistaken that you weren't that closed, right? After a year, I still have such a bad memory of place names." he offered as an explanation to his question. "Just to make sure I got this right, you were going toward the Fort, saw the storm, maybe hit your head, then saw the swimming lady, who was going toward or away from the storm?" He asked promptly. For him, the direction would be a important clue to determine if the lady was responsible or another victim in this story. Though, in any case, a red hair in the water was probably a Selkie. He stroked his beard. He made a conscious effort to remember the name that Proge mentioned. He mouthed them a few times.

Gremian glanced at Alisa when she mentioned an uncle taking pills, but, quickly, he realized that she must be talking about her human adoptive family and not about an elf.

Sometimes the city does get very strong, very localized storms.  Gremian has never heard of one that localized, but then again he's not the Fey weather expert.

Proge tries to remember.  The others can see that this is hard for him.  A little stressful.

Gremian knows in advance that the correct answer to the sleeping pill question is absolutely not.  No Goblin would do such a thing.  Pills!  Goblins pride themselves on their pure adaptability, to need such an artificial thing is beneath their... well, for lack of a better word, dignity.  Their own special Goblin dignity, though the concept might be debatable to others.

"I don't think I have trouble sleeping," Proge says, puzzled.  "But maybe if I can't remember then I have trouble sleeping but don't remember it?  You know,  maybe I do have trouble remembering, like I couldn't remember Gremian being a research guy, and.. you'd think I'd remember a naked lady in the water better, but... she was swimming, really well, like an athlete.  Maybe training for the Olympics.  You know.. they do that here, Travers Island.. hey, I remember THAT!  Anyway, she was swimming straight for City Island.   I went to help her, but then there were heavy swells, boat was bouncing... I almost got her.  But next I saw her she was closer to City Island, we must have gotten separated, and I knew she'd get safely to shore before I got to her.  So I turned around."

Gremian raised an eyebrows in disbelieve. "Even if you would forget that you have trouble sleeping, your body wouldn't forget. And except for the forgetfulness, you don't look sleepy. It's probably just the shock, bad pun intended, and the stress."

Alisa nodded in agreement.

- "Yeah, and with all the jostling you might have hit your head in the middle of all that, and with all the excitement you failed to notice it. Adrenaline can do that. Either way, it's nothing to worry about: Minor concussions have a tendency to jostle memories around, it should all straighten itself out over the next couple weeks. Due to the way they work though, you'd probably never remember actually getting the concussion though, in simple terms your brain wouldn't have stored that memory because of it."

She gave Proge a reassuring smile, before glancing over at Gremian to see if he was close to being done, and gave him a nod to let him know she had it figured out. They had gained some information here, or to be more precise she had, as she now figured a concussion to be the most logical root of the problem. There was more, but she didn't want to get Proge to doubt himself: Stress wasn't something that helped the healing process.

"I'm glad you think so, because a lot of people say I haven't been myself," Proge admits.  "The guys I work with wanted me to... I think they said 'Delve'.  What the hell is Delving?  And then they act like I'm stupid or something because I don't know.  So maybe I'll get better, then.  Some good sleep, get my head back and I'm back again.

"So, you guys have time?  You wanna eat something here?  The food's good.  You know I...wait... can I cook?  I mean, lately, maybe I can and forgot!"

He sighs.

"At least I know I can fish, right?  You want to go back out after I fix up the boat?"

Alisa leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms with a smile on her face.

- "Well, even if you can't remember, muscle memory should still be there, and if it's something you used to do a lot you can basically autopilot it. Just try not to think, do what comes naturally and, if you get results, try and figure out what it is that you did. That should help you get the basics down until you can remember why you know how to do it, anyway."

She tilted her head slightly, a rogue strand of hair falling across her face.

- "As for the boat... I'd focus on the simple stuff for now. You can half-ass a lot of things, but stuff like cars, boats and heavy machinery i'd stay away from until you can recall what you need to do if something goes wrong. Personal safety and all that."

She leaned forward again, un-crossing her arms and resting her elbows on the table.

- "So, might as well get a running start. This... Delving, it sounds like something you used to do a lot. What kind of... feelings does the word give you? If you can get into the right mindset, your body should take it from there. Might even jog your memory a bit watching your body move."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:42, Thu 16 July 2020.

"Maybe I should talk to one of them, so they go easy on you. Got a way to contact one of them? Or I can stalk your job and meet them there." He paused. "Anyway, the delving thing. Not sure, I never went to any." His eye twitched in disgusted. "Rock under, never over." he mumbled to himself. "Anyway, Alisa, how much should he wait if he hit his head hard before he goes back to exploring caves", his eye twitched again, "with his workmates? Because I thing you should go, maybe in a week or two. Sooner if you think you can handle it sooner."

At the mention of food, Gremian's stomach rumbled. "Oh yeah, hungry! I'll eat, don't know about you Alisa? Though, I'll suggest that we eat here, no offense to your cooking skill, but I don't think Alisa want to eat something that greasy." He said as he stomach growled a little louder.

- "Well... On that, i'd wait a while. See, there's this thing called Second Impact Syndrome, where if you get a concussion before the first one finished healing, bad things happen. It's actually the reason that when someone who for example is into boxing gets a concussion, their season's pretty much over then and there."

Alisa then turned to Proge again.

- "So i'd steer clear of situations where it's easy to hit your head again, just in case. Like i said, your memories should be fine in a couple of weeks, but you should go see a doctor, they can tell you when you're cleared for... cave exploring? again. Oh, and when you're at work, keep a work safety manual on you: When in doubt, check. Should make it safer, if not easier, to get back into the groove. You know a good doc?"

After having inadvertently given Gremian a way to recommend Proge to go see a Fae doctor, she turned back to him.

- "Food sounds good, yeah. I don't mind a little grease, but... baby steps. Heh."