The Calder Estate (1/1 Bee and Avery)

Wasn't part of Klaus's reason for being there to venture into the unknown? He was both canary in the coal mine and their point man. Harvey lacked Klaus's sensitivity and was therefore more likely to suddenly find himself in danger, if there was any. Klaus could detect its approach, manifestation, and defend against it. And wasn't the point of an investigation to investigate? If they were going to favor cowardice at every turn, nothing would be discovered. Harvey hadn't intended on bringing a poltroon with him to Calder Estate, and so he felt little sympathy for Klaus's craven display, despite being apprehensive himself.

"Right." Harvey said, contemptuous incredulity and passive aggression in his tone. "Not going in there and then it shocks you? Makes sense." He huffed and made a show of impatience before irritably giving an ultimatum. "If you want to play tourist and naysayer in this investigation, then fine. By all means!" He gestured broadly with his hands in emphasis. "But this is important to me, and I intend to comb over every inch of this house during our stay. That includes this pantry. So either you can open it, and get a psychic gauge or some shit, or I can."

Harvey crossed his arms, his phone momentarily illuminating before winking out again. "So what's it going to be?" Would Klaus acquiesce to Harvey's reasons, or maintain his resolve?
 
Klaus frowned and took a step back from the door, still rubbing his hand. The worst of the pins and needles feeling had faded though it had left a phantom sensation in its wake, as though his hand had been branded with an imprint of the door handle. A glance down at his hand assured him that it hadn't but wasn't much help otherwise.

Whatever was currently residing in the pantry didn't want him opening the door at least, that much was abundantly clear. Whether or not that 'do not enter' extended to Harvey he couldn't say, not unless he touched the door again and actively sought it out. Though it was the reason that he had been invited to Calder Mansion in the first place, he wasn't fond of having to push his abilities further than they went passively. Unlike how it had been for Clara it had come as much less than a blessing for him to discover his aptitude for the otherworldly, he hadn't asked for it and more often than not it proved intrusive in everyday life.

He took a deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth, giving himself time to sort his thoughts before replying. “My 'psychic gage' says that something doesn’t want me in there," he crossed his arms over his chest, "so it's all yours."
 
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Being unwelcoming wasn't equivalent to hostile. If one could compare the disparate creatures that were humans and the supernatural, then it was safe to assume that not all who barked would bite. Infringing on another's privacy didn't evoke violent reaction, not most of the time. And Klaus never mentioned a feeling of threat, so why caution. Klaus had also said 'me' and not 'us'. It was all Harvey needed to hear to resolve his plan of action.

If Klaus wouldn't do it, he would.

"So be it." Harvey bit out, a touch acerbic at Klaus' intransigent behavior. But Klaus wasn't a subordinate, and Harvey wasn't an authority. They were partners of necessity. Neither picked each other. And so when difference came between them, the delicate stitch that held them together threatened to easily unravel.

Harvey's phone came alight again and he set it to record. He said nothing, set no context for the clip about to be taken, and cut in front of Klaus to open the pantry. His hesitance was telegraphed in the way he paused there, looking between the lock and the knob. Why did this resemble a holding cell? Harvey didn't want to know, didn't want to think about if the Calder's locked their child, pet, or maid in here when they evoked someone's ire. Instead he fiddled with the deadbolt. Lock, unlock, lock, unlock. And then, curbing his pride and actually taking heed of Klaus's words, Harvey wrapped his hand in the hem of his shirt and twisted the knob.

It was reluctant, but not with age. If felt like something on the other side was holding it in place, like someone frightened, trying desperately to keep out an aggressor. The hold wasn't firm, weakening and strengthening as though trying to get a better grip to counter Harvey. He let it go, and it rotated fully in the opposite direction. The mechanism click-clicked, pistoning in and out of the lock and then-

The door opened ajar tentatively as though in capitulation. Harvey dared to push the door inward. It swung wide, tapping against the wall. It was fully open, and by the butlers pantry light, barren shelves were subtlety illuminated.

Harvey pointed the light of his phone into the pantry. "I don't see anything, let alone anything worth keeping from us." he observed aloud.
 
More than able to take a hint Klaus took several large steps back from the door to the pantry, though he couldn’t help but keep his eyes trained on it. As much as he wanted nothing to do with the pantry - or whatever resided in it - he wasn’t about to leave. Call it morbid curiosity.

The tension that Klaus had felt swelling in the air disappeared the moment the pantry door swung open, vanishing quicker than a drop of water into parched earth. The lack of anything on the shelves was both expected and surprising at the same time, and as much of Calder estate had already done, it left him feeling off balance. There had been something there, he was sure of it, but it had managed to somehow evanesce the second Harvey had opened the door. If there was anything for him to take away from this though, it was that the ‘residents’ of Calder Mansion seemed to prefer to reveal themselves on their own terms rather than just be stumbled across.

Klaus shrugged in response, only realizing after a few seconds that Harvey wouldn’t have been able to see the action while he wasn’t facing him. “It’s gone.” He said, tone changing to something akin to revelation as he continued on to relay his earlier thoughts. “Really didn’t want to be found, er, seen yet I guess? Might want to set some of your stuff up in here just in case it comes back. Weird spot though.”
 
"Right, gone." Harvey echoed acerbically. "Like it was never there." Though he knew something had been. Something fought with him over the door knob in a way that felt human, or at least was an exemplary imitation of such. Something purely supernatural wouldn't have struggled as much... right? Such was only conjecture. Without record they hadn't any solid facts to discredit skepticism or fear. And Harvey was afraid. It was only bravado that kept his timorous nerves at bay.

"You're right about one thing though," Harvey assented, shutting off and pocketing his phone. "We should have a camera in here, and maybe a thermometer. If there is something here, maybe we can track its movements by temperature. We've no visual of it yet." Briskly, he cut past Klaus and made for the great room. The sooner they had things set up, the better. Though little had occurred, there was certainly paranormal activity in the house. Between the pantry and the master bedroom, Harvey was knew something was reacting in Calder estate. And they needed to capture solid proof of it.

"Your help would be appreciated." he called to Klaus before adding more quietly. "Can't have me doing all the heavy lifting with a bruised shoulder. no?"
 
"It didn't seem to disrupt the temperature enough that we could feel it through the door so I'm not sure if that'd work. Might not be the type to disrupt temperature at all." Klaus replied as he turned to follow Harvey out of the room. Once again he was struck with a similar thought to one he'd had when they had first arrived at the estate. If the entities or entity that lurked here were powerful enough, there might not be anything in Harvey's arsenal of surveillance gear that would be able to keep track of them. It wasn't a comforting thought.

Klaus shot a glance behind him toward the pantry door, half expecting to see that it had shut the moment he had turned his back, though both the butler's pantry and the pantry itself remained unchanged. "Right, sure thing." He called, taking a few jogged steps to catch up to Harvey as they continued back toward the great room and in turn the boxes that held Harvey's equipment.
 
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There was a possibility that no evidence would be recorded. It could all be for naught, a futile net cast to sea without returns. The supernatural was ambiguous and coy like that. It dressed itself in mystery, allowing the occasional peak beneath its skirts, meretricious, teasing. Then it would run, thrilled by the chase and another's interest. Never mind the theory that supernatural beings could effect nothing tangible, instead projecting themselves into a person's conscious perception. Like schizophrenia or a hallucinogen. All in the mind, the softer world.

But Calder Estate didn't feel like that. It exuded a complexity that rivaled human personality while maintaining omnipotence. It was in control here. And Harvey believed that control could extend into the physical world where he and Klaus could capture it. This wasn't a series of fun-house spooks. The house wasn't encouraging them to leave. No, something of it seemed purposeful. This was psychological chess, and half the game was reading the opponent.

They were opening with a queen's gambit, because Calder Estate wasn't the only one playing for keeps. Harvey was as well.

* * *

The following three hours were spent rigging each room with cameras and sensors. Once data was flowing between them and Harvey's laptop, he'd radio Klaus and have him adjust things for better view. That was, if Harvey wasn't with him already, laptop in hand. He didn't like being separated from Klaus for long, though Harvey's laptop didn't like being separated from its umbilical charger. So that was a fun predicament. That and Klaus's rather passive dissent to cameras going in the bathrooms.

No, no. They couldn't have that. Such would be illegal and vulgar, and it was mostly because Klaus didn't want it that Harvey wanted it all the more. It's not like anyone was going to pay for footage of Klaus taking a piss. ... Or would someone? But that wasn't the point! The point was, if they didn't put cameras there, then the most auspicious physical manifestations would appear in the bathrooms. That was the Murphy's law of it.

In the end, they settled on thermometers and some sound sensors and called it enough. Because, if Harvey were honest, he may have been desperate for evidence, but if the only usable piece they acquired was some pseudo-psycho scene with him naked and flailing in the shower, well then, he'd just rather hang himself and be done with it. He had a modicum of pride after all. It just didn't extend to his fashion sense.

With the entire house now seen, canvased, and rigged with one or some combination of sensors, Harvey was enervated. In anticipation of the day's events, he hadn't slept much the night before. He forgot if he'd eaten anything since breakfast too. That Klaus had offered to assist in setting things up was merciful. He seemed to take instruction well, better than Harvey gave him credit for at least.

Sighing, heavy and exaggerated, Harvey looked from his laptop to Klaus, flipping his shades up as he did. "I'd say we're set. The camera in the attic office is still fickle, but it'll do." He wasn't in the mood to fix it, and, either by projection or sympathy, didn't feel like asking Klaus to do it.

"I don't suppose there's anything worth eating in the kitchen? I'm rather hungry." And didn't feel like cooking.
 
While Harvey made final adjustments and checks to assure that all of the equipment had been properly linked with his laptop Klaus had settled down in one of the uncomfortable chairs in the great room with a book he had liberated from the library. At a glance it had looked as though it might be interesting, though the more he read the more it failed to impress.

Titled, aigua fosca he'd first expected it to be in a different language, though flipping it open to a random page had proved otherwise and so he'd taken it. Once he had gotten through the rather needless and wordy introduction it had turned to poems and various other forms of verse, some only a few lines while others spanned several full pages. Though it was not something that he would have picked out had he known in advance, he might have been able to work his way through had the subject matter not been so grim. Death, horrific re-animations and rebirths, various forms of pain and suffering were all recurring themes. Though none of them were as prevalent as the near reverential mentions of 'Dark Water'. Always capitalized as though they were meant to stand out the two words popped up more times than he was comfortable with. He'd caught himself in a loop, reading the same sentence over and over and over again - Spindle fingered branches reaching out to Dark Water. A whisper, a whisper... Dark Water, Dark Water... - when Harvey spoke and drew his attention.

"That's good." Klaus replied as he closed the book and set it down on the arm of the chair, not bothering to save his page. It wasn't one that he would be finishing. Leaning forward in the chair, he attempted to look into the kitchen from the position he was currently in without much success. "Aside from cereal you've got as good of an idea of what's in there as I do. Suppose we could look around. Probably some pasta or something easy" He stood and stretched, pulling one arm across his body then the other in an attempt to soothe the ache in his lower back from the hard chair.

The idea of eating the estate's food wasn't the most inviting of ideas for a number of reasons. Surprisingly though, the first and foremost wasn't that it was not their food but because of the way his hag stone had reacted to the box of cereal. For such a little thing it had stuck with him. Though he had tried bringing up calling a tow truck to Harvey again while they had been setting up equipment the other man had brushed it off, dubbing it unimportant for the time. He'd have to mention it again later.
 
Pasta required so much waiting though. Waiting for the pot to fill, waiting for the water to come up to boil, waiting for the pasta to soften. And then there was the possibility that they'd be eating it without any seasonings, sauce or flavor beyond some imagined Hook bullshit. And at that point, Harvey had to ask if it was even worth cooking pasta. So much work, so many carbs, so little taste. Maybe cereal...

"Cereal without milk is rather privative, isn't it?" He thought aloud, his nose and the corner of his lip pulled upward in moderate distaste. None of this would have been much to consider had he not been so tired. Somnolence and hunger were a poor partnership. They prevented each other from being alleviated. How bothersome. Harvey scrubbed his hands over his face, noting that the curled ends of his mustache were starting to wilt some. He sighed.

"Did we ever check the fridge?" His brow furrowed in thought. Harvey honestly couldn't remember if Klaus told him about food being in it. He certainly hadn't checked it himself. Non-perishables were one thing but... there couldn't possibly be anything in the refrigerator, right?
 
"It's not great." He agreed with an offhand shrug. Lack of milk sure as hell wasn't what would be keeping him from eating the cereal he had found in the cupboard earlier though.

Klaus began walking through the great room - made much easier now that they had pushed all of the furniture to the sides and back against the walls - and toward the kitchen. He hadn't been that hungry but the mention of food was decidedly changing that. Not to mention that they had spent quite some time setting up, it had to be getting late. Though with the amount of natural light that made its way into the way into the mansion at any given time it was difficult to tell.

Mention of the fridge brought Klaus pause and he stopped, half way across the room. He hadn't checked it when he'd gone into the kitchen earlier looking for Harvey in order to tell him about the flat tire, the fact that he'd opened one of the cupboards in the first place had been purely on whim. From where he was standing now he could see into the kitchen and he eyeballed the refrigerator for a few seconds before replying. "I didn't check it. Don't think I heard it running."
 
It was late, and such was something Harvey was only viscerally aware of. The porch roof and mutinous, overgrown verdure kept much for the crepuscular light from touching the great room. The windows themselves seemed placed in such a way as to view roof, arborous growth, or porch columns. And the owners had left no clocks in the estate, as though time itself shunned the gloomy, cavernous corridors of Calder Mansion. It was only when Harvey checked his phone or laptop that he became aware of the hour. It was half past eight, and felt near midnight.

He rose to follow Klaus' lead into the kitchen. Every year of his age was felt getting out of that chair. So much moving about the house, up and down those subtly sloped stairs. Harvey regretted how complacent he had gotten over the years with his health. A desk job and sedentary living didn't bestow a deep well of reserve energy. He wasn't going to tell Klaus' about it though, instead swallowing a yawn as he walked past.

"Does anyone hear a fridge if they're not listening for it?" Harvey asked. "It's such a common noise, it just becomes part of the background ambiance." He crossed the threshold of the kitchen and began turning on every light that already wasn't. The shadows slunk ever further beneath the furniture. "Do you think they have canned fruit?" He asked absently, opening the cupboard. There was no hurry to examine the fridge.
 
"I dunno. Some of the older ones are loud enough that you can't not hear them." Klaus replied as he followed Harvey out of the great room and into the kitchen.

He leaned back against the counter while Harvey set about going through the cupboards, actually taking a few seconds to listen for the fridge. It was silent however, only the quiet shuffling sounds of Harvey moving things around in his search filling the air. The more he listened the deeper the quiet seemed. Though they were inside of the mansion and none of the windows were open Klaus couldn't help but feel like the arid silence would extend to the outside. Logic would dictate that, even with as wild as it was, the verdant greenery and plentiful trees would be home to creatures of all sorts, but Calder estate didn't seem to be fond of logic.

The box of cereal was still where they had left it from earlier, the cardboard top of it torn open and without a plastic bag peeking over the sides. He was going to have to figure out a way to seal it up again so that the cereal didn't get stale, not that he would be eating it but it was a common courtesy. "Might." Klaus said. He debated on walking over to Harvey to help look, though it was likely to be pretty crowded with both of them standing around looking through the same few cupboards.
 
The cupboards stretched to the ceiling. It was perhaps innovative at the time they were installed, and was popular in modern home design, offering room to store a surfeit of groceries that could feed a militia. It was functional, fanciful cabinetry. And it was a fucking pain in the ass. Harvey wasn't the ideal male height, but he wasn't short either. He wouldn't admit to it even if he was. But the problem that defied solution was, how was anyone supposed to reach the top shelves without a stepladder?

There was a temptation to climb on the counter, but Klaus was there, and Harvey would have preferred not looking like a child rooting about for candies on high shelves in front of his partner. Was partner a good title? Perhaps associate. The top most shelves, being out of reach and view, meant that the best viands had to be on them. 'The grass was always greener' or however the hackneyed phrase went. Harvey had to settle for what cans he could finger from the lower shelves. Calder Estate could keep whatever candied rations it held out of man-child reach.

Harvey looked over the mess of cans on the counter. 'Fruit Cocktail' one read. Of course it had no ingredient list. That would be convenient. Would it have said 'Tropical' on it if it were? Harvey didn't want to eat a mango. They tasted like walking into Bath and Body with one's mouth open. Vile. None of the other cans sounded appealing though. He began opening drawers to find a can-opener and silverware.

"Are you going to eat?" He asked, slamming a drawer of wooden spoons and rollers shut.
 
"I'm not that hungry right now, might grab something later." Klaus replied, though once Harvey had moved on to the utensil drawers he made his way over to the cupboards anyway.

All of the food in them thus far had looked to be either dried or canned, nonperishable or at least possessed a long shelf life. Not exactly the sort of things that proper meals were made out of. He opened one of the doors that Harvey hadn't, the handle of it half a foot above his head, and took a step back to look into it. Clear jars of all sizes filled the shelves and he made a face, closing the cupboard without giving them much of a second look. The vinegary taste of pickled things had never agreed with him, not to mention that even with only a quick glance he hadn't recognized half of the things the jars contained.

Considering just not eating at all Klaus glanced at the cans of fruit Harvey had left on the counter. While better than picked foods canned fruit had always tasted too sweet for him, it brought back memories of grade school too. Small, artificial tasting fruit cubes that swam in a too-sweet syrup packaged into little plastic cups that'd been packed into his lunch. He doubted that nostalgia had been kind to the way he had thought they'd tasted then.

"You didn't see any snack bars or anything did you?" He asked, though he'd been watching Harvey rifle through the cupboards and hadn't seen any himself. Worst case scenario he would just have to wait until tomorrow morning, Harvey could call a tow truck and Klaus could head into town with them while they fixed the tire and bring back some more substantial food. Microwaveable meals at the very least.
 
"Can't say I did. Can't say I was looking for them either, but-" Harvey's nose scrunched as a thought came to mind. "How would those even be packaged in this ultra-discount, zero-freshness post opening, brand-less trash that these shelves are currently replete with?" The thought of random bars of granola, heaped in a bare box like dog biscuits, was terribly unappealing. And honestly, Harvey hadn't realized just how appetizing pictures and color packaging made food until such were absent.

As an after thought, and second option, He said, "I think I saw oatmeal. That's close enough, yeah?" About as close as someone offering flour, saying it was almost cake. But at least even raw oatmeal wasn't bad. Rather textured, but not inedible by any means. That Harvey had eaten it once with milk, too lazy to cook it, was a sad fact he preferred keeping to himself.

Upon finally finding a rather antiquated looking can opener, he began to ratchet open his pre-sleep, desperation dinner. That he didn't cut himself due to somnolence or negligence was possibly a miracle. At the sink, he held the can high and watched the light syrup spatter and trickle down the drain. It wasn't fetid or thick, a good sign. When only droplets were left on the lip, he prized it open with a fork, found in one of the other drawers, and sat on the floor. The breakfast nook was just too many footsteps away.

"You know, if I was six, I could pretend I was a hobo and be really into it." God was he tired.
 
“I dunno.” Now that Harvey had mentioned it Klaus found himself wondering much the same thing. “Didn’t really think that far.” He had now though. The mental picture of even something as plain as granola bars - never mind the ones with chocolate or yogurt on them - piled atop each other and sticking together in the heat to create a melted mess, was not the most appetizing. Though the alternative was not much better, each small bar sealed neatly inside an equally small box with some variation of ‘granola bar’ printed on it. Black letters floating in an abyss of white. Needless to say, he did not find himself to be a fan of the packaging.

Klaus resisted the urge to make a face as he closed one of the cupboards that had been left open with a nudge from his elbow, making his way across the kitchen and toward the windows that made up the back wall of the breakfast nook. “Not really..? I mean, I’m not really an oatmeal sort of guy. Unless it’s like,” he paused as he searched for the right word. “like a crumble y’know? On top of apples with brown sugar or that kind of thing.” Mentally he cursed himself because god did that sound good right about now.

Not knowing how to respond to that Klaus only shrugged, giving Harvey a pulled half-smile. A glance out the windows provided a good view of the darkening sky above the treetops, the sun almost having completely set now. “I think I’m gonna be okay for now, ate a bunch before you picked me up.” He said, still looking out the windows. “I’ll head into town tomorrow when we call that tow truck and pick up some stuff that’s a little bit more edible, y’know. Can’t be eating canned fruit the whole month.” He hoped that they wouldn’t be anyway.
 
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For a moment, Harvey paused in eating to consider the difference between cobbler and crumble. What was their difference? Was there a difference? He couldn't remember if he knew. If they dumped a can of fruit into a pan, covered it in oatmeal and gave it a bake, could it count as crumble? The thought was cinnamon-warm and sticky-sweet. Almost nostalgic, but not of home. It reminded him of Riley. Riley would've known the difference between cobbler and crumble. Comfort food was like a birthright for him, coming from a place with haint-blue porches, and a fear of god so strong that it kept superstition alive. Harvey suddenly wasn't very hungry. He set the half-eaten can of fruit in the sink as he stood.

"If you can get a signal, then by all means." Make an ass of yourself. Harvey didn't see anything wrong with the car, still thought they could drive into town and figured they may do just that. With the house now monitored, they could risk a brief jaunt for something more sustaining than the half-assed war rations the shelves were surfeit with. They'd remedy it tomorrow. Tomorrow. Any time but tonight.

"I don't know about you, but I think I'm going to turn in." Harvey announced, impulsively checking his phone and noting the time. Early. It made him feel old, on the cusp of senescence, and only drove home the disparity in age between himself and Klaus. "I didn't sleep much the night before this." He added in explanation. It wasn't because he was old. Or delicate. Or that the house had rattled him. Certainly not.

"Will you be sleeping soon as well?" Though Klaus had every right to, and Harvey could monitor it, the thought of Klaus wandering about, alone, while Harvey tried to sleep, was somewhat unsettling.
 
The sentence hadn't come out as audibly sarcastic but there was an underlying derision to it, as though Harvey had silently deemed the calling of a tow truck to be completely unnecessary. The reasoning behind that Klaus couldn't fathom, though it was most likely just the residual excitement from having arrived at Calder estate.

Not for the first time that day Klaus found himself laden with the thought that, residual excitement or not, Harvey didn't seem to care about his car nearly as much as he should have. Not only did it belong to him and therefore it made sense that he should be concerned by its poor condition, but it was their only way off of the property and back to civilization once the month was up. That was not the most comforting thought.

"Don't know about 'sleeping'." Klaus said, though it was quiet enough to come across as talking to himself rather than giving Harvey an answer. He cleared his throat and turned from the windows, blinking a few times to adjust his eyes to the artificial brightness of the lights in the kitchen after having gotten used to the steadily dimming sunlight. "Probably. It's still light out though, might do a bit of reading first," through not from the book he had taken from the estate's library. Decidedly not from that book. "Might try to call my sister, send off a text at least." He shrugged noncommittally.
 
"I don't suppose your reading will be of the tarot variety, or that you could telepathically contact you sister instead." Harvey suggested, tired-derisive, a perfunctory quip too blunted in tone to carry any real vitriol. With the estate now under recorded surveillance, psychic disturbance because their chief course of action. It was still early in the investigation, and Harvey was dead-somnolent, but still felt the need to encourage Klaus in experimentation. After all, the sooner they primed the estate, the sooner they'd peak in activity and potentially catch something that substantiated paranormal existence.

Sleep weighed on him though, and Harvey hadn't the energy for any cogent argument or exhortations. He sighed, half apologetically, half in capitulation. "Whatever you do, just try not to make too much noise." Sleep was a timid thing, shying from sound, and Harvey couldn't afford its absence. Never mind that he wanted to be certain that every susurrous and sibilance was Calder Mansion, not Klaus. Whatever had disturbed his radio earlier left Harvey cautious.

While leaving for the master bedroom, he paused in the archway. A thought crossed his mind, remembering the blue room. Harvey looked over his shoulder to Klaus. "If you get a chance, could you appraise that palampore in your room? It looks antediluvian as all hell. Managing an antiques store, I imagine you could make a guess of it, no?"
 
Klaus glanced at Harvey, almost looking surprised by the suggestion. He wasn't blunt enough to not recognize that it was clearly meant as a joke but reaching out to his sister telepathically was something he hadn't considered, well, pretty much ever really. The passive connection they naturally shared had long since disconnected, having reached it's maximum distance back around the city limits It wasn't gone by any means, but he would have to take a much more active role in reaching out to reconnect it.

"You've got the wrong Edwards if you're looking for a tarot reading." Klaus replied, filing away his previous train of thought for further consideration later likely having taken several seconds too long to respond in the process. "Don't even own a deck." While he had never actually tried his hand at using and interpreting a tarot deck, Clara's cards had reacted negatively enough to him that she refused to use certain ones when she read for him anymore so as not to 'irritate' them. He'd never found them to be particularly accurate in any case, too broad in their predictions and open to interpretation.

The idea of wanting peace and quiet in a house that had a reputation for excessive psychic activity was a humorous notion, but an understandable one. "Shouldn't be a problem." Klaus said, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking slightly on his heels. He didn't fancy staying in the kitchen or even the great room for the next few hours before he managed to become tired enough to sleep but was more than aware of the awkwardness that would descend if he ended up following Harvey upstairs immediately. Similar to saying 'goodbye' then exiting out the same door. It was unpleasant if you knew the person well, but that unpleasantness near doubled when you didn't.

The mention of his job had Klaus perk up slightly, raising an eyebrow in consideration. He'd never been good with textiles, they were tricky and with modern sewing machines being able to imitate near everything now it only made the appraisal job more difficult. Though he always found that there was a sort of permanently ingrained smell that hung around old fabrics. "I'll take a look." He agreed. Harvey hadn't struck him a guy who was into antiques, never mind antique textiles but to each their own.
 
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