2019-06-10 - Safety Precautions

Yesterday, it was actually HOT with clear skies to break up the terrible weather the town's been having lately, Today, however, that terribleness has returned with a vengeance, sending forth a chill in the air to go with that serving of thunderstorm. It's raining cats and dogs out there, so of course Byron parks close enough that the quick run into the police department isn't a long trek. Once inside, he's tapping out the wetness from his stately black umbrella, a briefcase held in his other hand.

Dressed in a tailored suit and tie getup complete with a tailored black business jacket, he's thrown on a heavy coat to protect himself from your typical Gray Harbor rain with black leather gloves protecting his hands. Once inside, he makes his way towards the front desk, "I am looking for Captain de la Vega. Is he currently available?"

The girl at the desk has likely borne witness to a veritable procession of waterlogged denizens into and out of the station, and regards this latest interloper with some curiosity. Which is likely more due to his tailored threads than anything else. She smiles a little, in spite of herself, before remembering she actually has a job to do. "Sure, I can check for you. One moment please, mister..?" Hand on the phone, she pauses. Eyes on his.

"I don't have an appointment," Byron says, before murmuring, "Though I suppose I should have called first." His voice grows clearer when he give her his name, "Byron Thorne. Tell him that I have the paperwork and permits from Mayor Addington and the City Council for a proposed festival. I'd like to go over some of the details with him when he has the time." Despite looking only a touch bedraggled, the umbrella and coat keeps him dry enough.

The girl flashes another smile and dials the number on the keypad. A finger is held up to signify that he should wait a moment, and then she eases back in her seat and spins away from the man as she conducts a brief conversation over the phone. "Yes. Yes, if you have a few minutes, captain, that would be.. thank you." And to Byron: "He'll be right down."

True to her word, it's perhaps five or ten minutes before the door at the back buzzes, and someone shoulders their way through. He's in uniform; black on black on black, a gun holstered in his duty rig and a file folder of some kind under one arm like he was interrupted in the midst of some actual work. Spotting Byron fairly easily, he angles toward the younger man and holds out his hand. "Mr. Thorne? Captain de la Vega. What can I help you with?" His accent is fairly heavy. Mexican Spanish, it sounds like.

When told that the Captain isn't just in, but he's also coming down to meet with him, Byron flashes the woman behind a counter an appreciative grin all before waiting patiently for the man to arrive. He'll wait for a moment, out of the way of any other visitor requiring the attention of the police, before settling himself down into a nearby chair with his still drying umbrella leaning against the chair leg.

The sound of the buzzer draws his attention, but when he notices the uniformed Ruiz approach, he immediately rises to extend a hand to shake. "Ah, a pleasure to meet with you then, Captain de la Vega. I am in the middle of doing promotional work for a festival that is being planned to help generate interest in our... far too grey and wet town." He's even reaching into his briefcase to pull out a folder which he hands over to Ruiz. "That is the copy of the permits given me and an outline of the event being planned. A week-long... Carnival, I suppose. Think Venice." An idle look is given the entryway to the station, "I have a time frame in which I'd like this run, but the weather is always a concern in Gray Harbor."

The captain's grip is firm, though not overcompensatingly so. His manner is perhaps a touch less cultivated and refined than Byron's; the edges of him are roughened, and his shoulders held at a slight slouch that gives him a lurksome aspect. "A festival?" That's usually the Chief's domain. But with the Chief indisposed.. "I would like to see your permits, please." The 'please', of course, is a formality. He's going to get his hands on them, one way or another. "What is your time frame? Tell me a little about your festival."

"Yes, with the town's flagging economy, which, in truth, has been going on for quite a while, we're hoping to attract more interest to our city. Both in the form of tourism and new transplants, investors, new businesses. That sort of thing." The folder with the outline and permits in it are passed over to Ruiz. "I know that this is a last minute venture, but I'm looking towards a weekend in early to mid-fall. Hopefully not long after the brief summer heatwave hits." Rather than rifle through the folder, he'll let Ruiz look through the paperwork at his leisure.

"A weekend long festival and with the help of the community and our local businesses, we're going to dress the place up. I suppose it's, hopefully..." Though Byron has doubts on this, "A classier, mysterious Mardi Gras. Without the toplessness and beads. Closer to the Carnival of Venice. A grand Masquerade. /If/ it's successful, there will be plans on doing this annually."

Ruiz peruses the permits one at a time, brows furrowed as he scans the site plan and proposed route, if there is one. The liquor license is accounted for after a brief rifling through the stack of paperwork, as well as the permit from the health authority that regulates what food can be served and where. All fairly standard, and very boring. But his job is his job. "Carnaval. Interesting. And is this going to require a police presence?" Or is the precinct simply being made aware, with the assumption that the number of officers on patrol will likely need to be augmented in either case. He shuffles the page detailing the event itself to the top of the pile, and peruses slowly, with a slight squint.

Yes, those papers are your typical paperwork as approved by City Council. The proposal for the Carnival is the most exciting thing in there. Byron nods his head quickly, "That would be correct, sir. With the influx of tourists and other visitors, I believe that we may need a larger police presence than what we normally expect. There will be revelry, costumes and masks galore." He mentions all of the normal things one would expect from a Masquerade. Though he does add, "And to ensure that our guests don't get themselves Lost in the woods or anything of that nature." Once those words are said, his eyes look intently on the police Captain for the briefest of moments, almost as if he were searching for something. Soon enough, however, his gaze softens and he reaches into his coat pocket, looking to be fishing for something within.

Ruiz's eyes remain on the paperwork in his hands, expression somewhere between distracted and dour, like he has a million places he'd rather be than here. Reviewing permits. For a festival. Once Byron's finished speaking his piece, the captain finishes skimming the brief and then shuffles the papers back together again, dark gaze ticking up when the other man casually mentions those woods. It's hard to say if he finds what he's looking for on the cop's face. Certainly not blank confusion, no. Perhaps a twinge of something akin to suspicion, with a dash of uncertainty and an ounce of reproach. He knows. He knows what's being suggested. And he's not sure he likes it.

"I will have Lisa make copies of these, if you do not mind." Lisa is the girl at the desk, presumably. And it's less a question than a polite way of informing Byron of what he'll be doing. He slides a business card out of his pants pocket, and hands it over between index and middle finger. "Website is on the back. There is a form you will need to fill out. You may put me down as the officer in charge. I will review your documentation and you should be approved within the week." He continues to watch the other man carefully, perhaps contemplating something about him.

"This is just a precaution." Byron says almost dismissively about his own warning regarding the woods. Or people getting lost in them. "You came... highly recommended, by a Mister Clayton." He'll reveal that much. Perhaps this is the reason why he sought Ruiz out instead of anyone else in the precinct.

When he's handed the business card, he turns it over in his gloved hand to review the information printed, "Thank you, I'll make sure to do just that." There's then his pause, before his dark gaze lift and he inquires, "The police department doesn't happen to need the services of a psychiatrist would it? A friend of mine who just recently moved into town to open up a private practice here showed interest offering her services to the GHPD. Here," That hand that was in his pulls out a wallet, one which he now puts Ruiz's card into while he pulls out another to hand over. The name printed there is: Vivian Glass.

"If she can be of assistance, please do give her a call. I'm helping her get situated into town."

The name gives him pause, and the cop's expression is largely unreadable as the impetus for this little visit is finally revealed. He clearly knows that name, and the man attached to it. And he's silent for a time, save for the crackle of his radio going off. Something's spoken, low-voiced, into his mic: "Ten four on the TC. Units 176 and 118 enroute. Over." Gaze shifting back to Byron, he rolls his jaw slightly before nodding to the younger man. "A precaution. And what precisely would you like from me, Mr. Thorne?" Regarding those woods, one presumes.

The card offered in exchange is accepted, and his brow furrows a little as the explanation is given. He flickers a brief smile that doesn't quite hit his eyes. "I will pass this on to the Chief. I will need to see a resume, of course. Is this the best number to reach her at?"

Byron considers, taking on this look of quiet contemplation. "We could cordon off the various ways into the woods, though there will be warnings on where not to wander. Especially without guidance. And as I'd mentioned earlier, a more prominent police presence might help with some of this." There's this moment where his brow begins to furrow and it seems that he might add more to it, but he changes his mind.

Zipping up his briefcase, he lets it hang by his side, being held with one hand. "Thank you. And yes, that is the best number to reach her at. I thought I'd reach out and see what I could do to assist, while I'm here." That said, he offers the other man a smile, "And once more, thank you for taking this opportunity to speak with me. I'll keep in touch to further inform the precinct of our progress and any changes that are made, to the schedule and whatnot." Even now, the sound of pelting rain can be heard. "I have several more meeting throughout the day ahead of me and I'd hoped that the rain would have let up by now."

Ruiz might not have been looking for logistical direction so much as... well. It's not precisely clear what he was getting at with that question. "I will look over the plans, and consult with the Chief," he concludes with another flickered smile. As if to suggest the matter's closed. Either he'll help.. or he won't. Though it's a fair bet that 'consult with the Chief' means nothing of the sort.

"De nada," he murmurs to the man's thanks, taking a step back. The paperwork is slid onto Lisa's desk, and he reaches toward the man in the suit to shake his hand once more in parting. He'll leave the two of them to sort out the copies that need to be made, and the return of the originals. "Good luck out there." Crisp farewell offered, his gaze lingers on Byron a beat or two before he turns and heads back off with a rustle of his gear. The door buzzes in acceptance of his key card, and he disappears inside.