2019-06-29 - What's In The Box?!?!

Byron runs extremely early, typically, and while Lilith expressed an interest in going along, it's the weekend, he did her the favor of coming to pick her up because jogging on Elm to meet at the park in path is a little laughable-- jogging on Elm generally applies to running from someone. But they're late and hanging around in the shop and she's fuming about Hank not showing up to open and cover while sitting on the glass jewelry counter. Where the -fuck- is Hank? Drunk hangover in an alley at this point, given the time, surely.

The brunette is in little spandex running shorts, black and pink Nike shoes, and a partially cropped summery blue workout tank with hair up, fresh faced with morning, hopped with coffee and ready to go with feet dangling impatient sway, "It's fascinating how he can still piss all over my general life and plans as an adult. I'm calling a temp agency, this is stupid, I knew better. Do you KNOW how much he tried to loan to one of his buds and what he tried to say was collateral last time I was--"

The door opens and Lil has to squint while talking to Byron with vent because look... smelly homeless sketchy guys might well be mistaken for her father, depending. But she trails off and goes quiet to watch, slowly slipping down into stand with her phone and earlier morning texts to Carver nearby on the case.

It was a pleasant enough Saturday morning, so rather than sleep in as one probably should during the weekend, Byron was up early. He tends to jog in the mornings on a daily basis, normally, earlier than today, but with Lilith needing more time to get ready (See: Wake up), he drives out over to Elm Street to pick her up and take her to the park. Normally, he would think that driving someone to the park to the jog in a small town was funny or amusing, but then he does understand that unlike where he lives on Bayside, no one wants to go jogging through Elm.

So he's here early, dressed in a navy blue Under Armour form-fitting short-sleeved shirt and a pair of medium length black running shorts with his feet tucked into running shoes. There's a high-tech sports watch at his wrist while his phone is attached to his runner's belt. He looks bright-eyed and bushy-tailed but he's used to being up early in the mornings. They are both waiting for Hank to replace Lilith at the counter, so she can actually have the freedom to leave the shop.

It doesn't take long for him to notice the new arrival into the Pawn Shop. First of all, he smelled awful, something which almost brings back flashbacks of the storm and that sewer. With that in mind, he doesn't take his eyes off the guy and instead focuses his gaze solely on him. "Maybe it's a good thing that we're here now instead of Hank..."

There's a couple of ways Lilith feels about the presence of the desperate smelly guy now that he's went and name dropped Hank, and the first instinct is to just roll her eyes and step behind the counter to play official. Hank has some pretty interesting friends, to be frank and she takes a moment to look at the guy as if trying to recognize him. But what she recognizes in the end is that sewer smell because it wasn't so long ago she and Byron had some experience with that very smell and it's triggering all kinds of internal wariness inside her, inexplicably, whether warranted or not.

After sliding her eyes aside to look at much handsomer company for a noted silent beat of wordless communication that practically oozes don't-turn-your-back, she steps around behind the glass counter as called for. She leans on it some with an elbow and beckon to the guy, and her voice is easy enough-- he's jumpy and it's not like people pawn things because they're in a -good- life position. The woman has laid off personal examination in favor of eyeing exactly what he's rattling around in the can, "Yeah. That's me. C'mere and let me see what you have."

There's also a store shotgun under the counter, but that's neither here nor there for the moment... other than her moment of stranger danger with -that- smell flaring up to make her remember.

Sure, Byron is judging this man, observing him from afar-- until the guy closes the distance and approaches the counter, that is. While he doesn't wrinkle his face up in disgust, there's just this curious lift of his brows at the homeless man's question. There's this urge to respond for Lilith, having that 'That Depends who wants to know?' look in his eyes; but if this is official pawn shop business, then there's no reason to intimidate the customers. No matter how sketchy they look.

The sound of that rattling, of course, draws in most of his attention, his dark gaze darting from the can, then to stare back up at the man. He'll be good and just linger, but he does make sure to shoot a look over at Lilith in that 'I got your back' kinda way.

"A bus ticket." Lilith repeats after the guy calmly and firmly, saying yes, she hears him and has made a mental equipping to that amount as she looks between him and the case, especially once he makes the distance after. But that way about her also says she's done this hundreds of times and everyone has their emotional desperations and appeals and she's not committing to a damn thing until she's evaluated what's in the box for trade. It doesn't matter who's brought business. He's terrified and she understands maybe, the desperate need to hit a bus and run. Didn't she do that once upon a time? But people aren't solid or reliable. People are not the collateral or the value.

The stories the items tell Lilith are always reliable. Byron might agree, but on a different level. The items tell her different stories without words. She may not know the life, but she knows the origin of what it always was. She can deconstruct a piece mentally to component parts, look at the molecular lattices, tell a diamond from a hunk of pretty glass.

The smell, though. His demeanor. His reason for coming and the desperation context. And that damn ominous box. The brunette can't help but steal another glance at Byron like something feels off, but she also can't resist opening the box to see and evaluate what's inside. After a beat of hesitation, she clicks the case open with quick and decisive hands.

With the ammo case being set down onto the counter, that loud CLUNK sound heard, while it's a mystery as to what's inside the container, Byron continues to observe the mannerism of this man, the way in which he recoils back in fear. But for all Thorne knows, the guy could be tweaking or suffering some psychotic breakdown, neither of which place them in an ideal situation. Then again, the town just fills people with crazy, so he won't discount that.

"Did you want some coffee or anything while you wait for the appraisal?" He'll ask. Hey, he started offering refreshments to the pawn shop guests the last time he was here. Okay, the time before that. It's become a thing.

Mysterious ammo container being opened? That's the perfect time for the main door to open for yet another time, right? Carver's a glorious contrast to the previous entrant, even if they could both fit firmly in the category of 'Homeless.' He's forgone the usual heavy coat he wears for a lighter jacket, thrown atop his usual getup of waistcoat and dress shirt. Oh, and Sunglasses. It's summer, even in the pacific northwest, so at least he has a reason to have them about his person other than 'I'm going to see Lilith.'

Naturally, his entrance comes right as the homeless guy is retreating and scrambling backwards while the proprietor of the place is checking out a container. "Morning, Li-Oh." From bright and cheery to slightly concerned and bemused in one and a half words.

Fifty bucks is not going to break Lilith and for a moment, she looks tempted to just pass it over with glance at the register for the sake of getting the guy out as he carries on and watches her. It'd fix the smell and he's making her nervous, especially since she's just... opened a box to reveal another box. People generally only do that with very valuable items or things they don't want to mess with. Or severed heads, according to movies, which doesn't look like a fact that's escaping the brunette behind the counter for a moment given her face when she reveals that. But that's hardly tradeable. Mostly. Unless mummified and neat or of a certain certificate celebrity value, business logic says.

Twisting her lips in brief to one side with consideration, she's interrupted from whatever she's about to do with boxes inside boxes when Carver comes in with announcing bell chime and British vampire attire flair (they've talked about this, it is what it is). And Lilith is not typically a jumpy person, but oh, this time she jumps, it's a contagion in the air now with anticipation and mystery over what's in the case. After shooting a look at the new entry that's cautionary, she seems to have a sudden idea and maybe realizes immediately that entry might spook the other homeless guy on principle at this point, "Hello, Carver. Give me a moment, mm?"

She pulls the box out of the case first, then slides the actual case toward Byron in the name of 'out of the way' so she can both get at the cash and the new box. But it's pretty directed. She might want him to touch the thing and get whatever story and questions they need answered about what's inside before the quarry source goes. Getting out bait, she seems to relent and opens the register to pull out three twenties in the name of sixty easy bucks while side-eyeing the box, "... I assume you don't want it back. Kills the paperwork, at least."

Then she tests something. How badly does he want the cash to get out versus how scared the guy is of whatever's in the box? She puts the bills down next to it with slide forward on the glass surface and preps to bust into it after some survey to see a couple of things.

This guy definitely doesn't need any caffeine in his system. Byron figures that much. He also doesn't like the man's insistence of naming his own price without even letting Lilith take a look at what he's giving up for this bus ticket. "You'll get what it's worth." There's no aggression in his voice. In fact, his words come out in a lightly toned matter-of-fact way, his gaze briefly diverted to regard the latest customer to visit the pawn shop. The shades work to somewhat obscure Carver's visage, but the attire is very familiar, that unkempt look. Then there's the accent when he speaks and LIlith's own confirmation of who the guy is.

It does make him wonder what this Carver is doing here today. But he's distracted now by Lilith's opening of the box and viewing the strange man's (Who is Not Carver) reaction to it. When another box is found within the first container and wary of how the first patron is taking all of his box opening business, he asks, of the inner box, eyes briefly to Lilith, "Want me to do that for you?" That's when Lilith is all prepared to pay the guy after shoving the first box in his direction. All he can think of is 'This really better be worth it!'

With the larger container out of the way, the idea of reading it's emotional signature comes to mind. Though it's not something he likes doing in public and the results tend to be a mixed bag. Still, there's this intake of a deep, bracing breath before he reaches out a hand to place onto the ammo container, trying to gather anything that might tell them what's going on.

"Mmhm." At least he got a hello, right? That's usually a good sign for Carver. Homeless dude handing over an item to someone and then skittering backwards when the open it? Bad sign for Carver. He immediately covers any sign of nerves with a slight shuffle to one side, clearing out the route to the main door for anyone to sprint out of in the next few minutes. One arm crosses over his chest, the other hand raising up to throw a little finger wave in Lilith's direction.

And then it's thrown in Byron's direction too, for good measure. He's being sized up, after all, it's only polite to respond. In fact, he's in the middle of that when the money is placed next to the box, and the homeless man's demeanor changes completely. Carver's behind him, so he can't see his face, but the guy's pretty okay with body language. Especially when that body language includes turning and fleeing and slamming through a door.

He watches him go. Waits a moment, and then turns back to the two. "So, uh. Question." One finger raises up from his previously waving hand, now mostly tucked in a tight arm-fold across his chest. "Who else here has common sense and a mild case of paranoia?"

Byron's mind is taken out of the present situation for a time, the hand touching the outer container grips tightly upon the object almost as if he's sharing that same panic as the homeless man. He can feel his heart racing, his eyes looking around the interior of the pawn shop, but the way that he squints as if studying his surroundings, he very well may be envisioning somewhere and something else.

And then he's brought back to the here and now, his eyes blinking, heart still pounding desperately within his chest. It's only at that point that he notices the other man flee, hearing the loud clamor of the door being swung open violently. This emotional turmoil and intensity is what he hates about doing what he does with is powers and it takes a few moments for him to regain his bearings.

"It's hard to determine what frightens him most. Whatever's in the box or whoever is hunting him down." A brief pause, before he murmurs, "Probably both."

So that's a thing that got tested, alright. Lilith honestly just expected the guy to take the money she's practically gifting at this point, even if it was a quick dart in and out of grab and dash, because seriously, she's opening a box that he was just carrying himself! She's used to thieves, hell, half the stuff in this place is probably stolen at some point during shelf-life. But they generally just want out and away from her just-in-case she calls the cops, not away from the actual item, so her working jaw reflex after that turnabout where she's good and then insulted in the same ranting breaths is halted. So are her hands.

After making a distressed noise of frustration and surprise alike in her throat, she doesn't yell what she actually wants to yell after the homeless guy because honestly she feels a little bad he didn't get that money to get the hell out of here with before bolting. But she mutters it once she sees there's ANOTHER box inside the box she got from a box.

"No, fuck you, your crazy ass, and this box." Then she just plain pauses after Carver's words and beckons him closer, "You don't have common sense, I know that, c'mere." Because after looking at Byron's conclusion about the case and his general mien, she's decided Carver is now the box bait. Then she pauses and squints, "Who said I was good? Hank?"

"...What."

Carver's arms unfold. And then fold. There's a few repetitions of this motion as his mouth opens at Lilith's suggestion, especially when it comes after Byron's pretty succinct summary of the whole situation. He looks to his left. To his right. "Uh, Mels? You wanna open a box?" Does he sound a little desperate? maybe.

A beat passes. Two. Three. It's at Six that the man unfolds his arms for a final time, shoving his thumbs into his pockets and grumbling something about "Never around when you bloody need 'em" and not looking either of the two other occupants of the pawn shop directly in the eye. "Four months in a goddamn tower." He mumbles. "Told I was really helpful. And all that means is I get to open a stupid damned probably cursed box that's gonna kill me again and I probably just found myself a damn place to stay and an endless supply of whiske-"

Yeah, he's rambling because he's terrified. Doesn't stop him grabbing the next box in the line and prying the damn thing open, though.

Carver holds up the fancy little box, showing it off to the other two in lieu of his bloody demise.

...And promptly underhand tosses it in Byron's direction.

Here's the thing about composure and calm-- it gets the moment over and done with, but it doesn't hide the tells if someone's familiar. And it doesn't work when someone knows you too well. Byron can tell Lilith is spooked without all the mental tricks despite her just standing there watching Carver expectantly. For one thing, since -when- doesn't she plow into a box to see what's inside for the sake of seeing what's inside? Since when does Lilith not want to be the first person to look at a -thing- of interest in that way of hers? Everything is clockwork cogs ticking a siren song that beckons view of the stripped down gears when presented the right way.

After a couple of slow and singular step backwards paces away from Carver and the box, she also bats her lashes at him like he's the hero of the moment like a form of girlish bolstering. Byron also knows -that- is tactical bullshit because she used to use it on him and only pulls it out in desperation. But all that insight is extraneous because it doesn't take a genius to know she's suddenly terrified when the box takes a launch toward Byron after that moment of unshedding into new, prettier and somehow more ominous form...

The glass jewelry case cracks. Two lamps shatter. A bulb goes overhead by the office with flicker explosion in brief. She hasn't moved. But she has suddenly very calmly lost her shit.

The atmosphere is incredibly tense as the group watches in silent unison when Carver opens this third box. Though Byron's eyes are on this smaller container, some part of him is still replaying the memory from the emotional residue on the biggest of the boxes within his mind. In the case that he missed anything of importance. Of course, he's also imagining the worst possible outcomes of this box opening ordeal within his mind, but nothing happens. No explosions, no portal that sucks their souls into hell manifesting. Just.. another box.

This box was different than the others and that's what makes Byron incredibly wary when it's suddenly.. tossed in his direction by the Brit. Carver's throw was decent that he didn't have to lunge too far off from where he'd been standing. He does lean though, to the side slightly, snatching the deck of card sized container out from mid-air. "Jesus. Some warning beforehand. Or you know, just leave it on the table if you didn't want anything to do with it." This complaint comes out just as things are breaking down all around them, something that's not gotten him all tense and jumpy.

Nevertheless, he is the one with the box and he's not about to ask Lilith to open this one up. There's this moment of quiet, his features look as if he's in deep contemplation but nothing seems to come of it. That wasn't very helpful. After an idle lick of his lips, he steps in towards the counter as if needing to use it as an anchor of sorts, resting a forearm at its edge. "Here goes nothing then." Carefully, he undoes the gold latch.

Carver has a very subtle, casual, calm and collected reaction to the sight of the gem. The color, the cut, the size and the seating. That is to say, his eyes buldge wide, and his head starts to shake. He wasn't entirely aware that he was holding his breath as Byron flipped the lid, but he's soon clued in to that fact when he immediately tries to speak, fails, has to take a quick inhale, and then shakes his head.

"Nope. Nope. Nope."

And it looks as if he's about to turn around and mimic the OTHER homeless guy by bailing out of the door, the idea betrayed by a slight shift of his weight, leaning back on a heel to start to swivel away before... something stops him. "Shuttheboxshuttheboxshutitshutitshutit." When he needs to be, he's an eloquent guy.

Glass is noisy and flashy when it breaks, it was only some violent burst-emotional bleedoff moment, right? That mystery item went sailing right at Byron, understandable reaction! Both men roughly know she has control issues. Lilith is at least able to play off the rest of her nerves because the rest of the things that start snapping apart, breaking in pieces, or decaying and tearing do so rather quietly in little waves of unraveling slow motion. If anyone was paying mind, the whole of the shop might seem a little loud with those kinds of 'settling' noises in a time of such quiet anticipation, but... the box. Does anything else even exist at this point?

Nope. Nothing else. She already wanted to see despite the dread and fear. She can see enough to know she wants to see more. This is just natural Lilith now that no one's exploded, to be fair. But there's a problem because that's suddenly amplified and turns into an obsession and drive. Byron is leaning an arm on the counter and she practically leaps to see and reach for the gem for tactile exploration and a closer look.

And... and... because she has to. She just has to. She wants to know it from the inside.

It's... a little off, though. It doesn't seem motivated by greed or more natural curiosity entirely. Byron might notice in the face of Carver panic instructing what to -do- with the box now that it's open after all that build up. She's breathing fast. her eyes aren't sparking with wonder, they're drowning with desire and want, and her other hand is making a drag over her partially bared midriff in clawing sensation of touch with new anticipation. She wants to touch, she wants to feel the cold facets on fingertips, everything will end if she doesn't.

It comes off like sheer lust. She's enraptured and seduced. And Byron literally has never seen her like that. Carver is suspicious enough without paying mind, naturally, but this might make him more worried. They might have to actually wrangle her ass if they want to tell her 'no'.

The deed is done and the final container is open. Byron's breath is caught up within his throat, every muscle within his body tensed in just that one single moment where the latch is unhooked and the cover is lifted. What they are confronted with is a thing of mesmerizing beauty; a vision that leaves him standing there in admiration of the jewelry's beauty, especially that large amethyst that's staring him right in the eyes.

There's this urge to touch it. He was standing right there, hovering it over. In fact, he almost does just that, the hand that had lifted the cover lowering as if wanting to caress the stone with his grasp. And yet, there was something terribly wrong about all of this, but it's not something that he can explain. There's that look in his eyes again, he's focused on the ring but its seductive powers work to cloud his mind, leaving him unable to get a read on it.

The first thing he'll notice is Carver's reaction to all of this, seeing the man looking as if may back away and Get The Hell Out Of Dodge. But then he can feel the pressure against his arm when it's Lilith who looks like she's trying to get a closer loo-- No, it looks like she's going to try and touch the thing! "Shit..." He quickly murmurs before he slams the cover down hard, before it's scooped up and lifted high above her head... almost as if they were children again and they were playing a dangerous game school yard bully! "Lilith, are you crazy?! This thing... Whatever it is, there's this bad mojo. Really bad."

Carver's hand is almost out as if to grab the box himself by the time Lilith's finger drags over the gem. Which... well. That's not great. His immediate reaction is to bring that hand up to his mouth and hiss through his lips. Like he just watched a youtube video of slips, trips and falls. The kind that are empathy-inducing, not laugh worthy. Whether it's her immediate reaction, the outcome, or Byron's obvious surprise at her movements, something has him taking a few steps back. You know, in a friendly, reassuring way.

"Soooo... You got the dark fingers trying to stick their way in your skull too?" That'd be to Byron, his hand turning over to indicate the guy with a slightly inquisitive beckon for reply. Which then turns into a pointing finger towards Lilith. "And she got them elsewhere?"

Lilith manages to crawl onto the counter into propped and reaching kneel with the hefting lift of box during the closure, trying to make up for where Byron outsizes her since they were at opposite sides, and he's still better at keepaway, sure. But oh, she gets to touch it on the way (perhaps unfortunately, considering) and it's everything for that very second. She can see and feel it all, the split second grazing fingers over warm facets that emit right back at her with that tactile acquainting.

In fact, for a moment, it seriously seems like she's going to launch herself to the man to get to do it again, but that fades abruptly after the touch really sinks in. Because it makes her shudder with a sudden satiation despite the semi-dazed and lingering yearning in her eyes. Her hand pauses and stops straining for reach and she sits against her heels kneeling there on the glass counter, breathing quickly to play rational catchup. She seems fine otherwise, but 'fine' is kind of broad given the way touch has left her-- the way she's reacts isn't her easy brand of casual, nor is it a freakout. It's close to intimate, like they're seeing the vulnerable moments after the warmth and pleasure of a lover's touch has sated her.

What the hell did she feel or see to leave her worked over like that? She opens her mouth as if to finally break back into Lilith while staring at Byron, then shifting her eyes to Carver with snap-to curiosity and non-brokerage tone, "-You- know something about what--"

For all Byron knew, he'd taken the box away from Lilith before she laid a hand on the gemstone, his own action so quick that he doesn't notice her fingertips touching the amethyst's smooth edge before the container is slammed shut. Feeling that rush of adrenaline coursing through him, he's still in a semi-panicked mode while that arm of his is still raised over his head. "Snap out of it! Lilith!" There's this nervous annoyance in this tone as he takes a step back. At Carver's question, though he doesn't look at the other man, he makes response while all eyes remain on Lilith, "You betcha." He felt something.

He has on this serious expression now, brow furrowed, features hardened, an intensity in his dark eyes. Though with the way he's acting, this hunger and desire that she shows for the amethyst more than disturbs him just a little. "Lilith." He says again, his voice commanding as he tries to calm her and make her think of anything but that gemstone whether it's necessary or not at this point, "Lilith. Let it go. Forget about it. All that this'll do is lead to trouble." Really bad trouble from the vibe he'd gotten!

And then the kneeling, grasping Lilith crashes through her already splintered counter. "Jesus!" He calls out, quickly slipping the jewelry container into his pocket, less he lose track of it, before trying to reach a hand to the poor, unlucky creature.

"Brilliant. Not just me, then." Carver's always pleased when he's probably not going insane. You can tell by the fact his face settles into something resembling an easy smile, although there's most definitely a touch of concern edging his features. Not the usual response to someone settling into the satisfied repose that Lilith is doing an excellent imitation of, that's for sure. His expression only hardens when Byron starts uttering those calming words, which, really, let's make that a two for two on 'not the usual response' to such things.

But there's no real time for those facts to settle in for anyone, as his mouth is opening to answer a certain question just as Lilith drops through the counter. He's a few steps away, and the guy's got reflexes for shit, so his only reaction is to throw out an entirely useless hand. And then bite the hell out of his own lip to stop any remarks. Because there are remarks. So many remarks. All stuck in his head.

Lilith seems roused and re-aligned from the command in Byron's voice. It focuses her to make that fateful shift in place for removing herself while she questions Carver. Maybe it makes sense that the counter breaks with her kneeling on it with a crack running through it. But that glass is thick-- weight would really have to stress the crack just right, which she apparently manages to do with a stroke of bad luck or appropriate physics. Or both.

Either way, it sucks and she literally has to be lifted and pulled out of the case once she's caught Byron's hand with downright squeak to avoid gashing of her bare legs or knees. Luckily it's thick glass, so there aren't a lot of pieces and it seems to be a clean stress break with little shatter. Does luck help her? No. Her knee is split open and bleeding on the jewelry with gash.

But she's not worried about that. While automatically putting her arms with shifting to Byron's neck and shoulders so he can get her standing, she declares, especially toward Carver, "We're going into my office and that is going in the very big safe. I'm locking up and we're going to talk." A pause, "Ow." Realizing she's cut is a pitiful noise after all that non-brokerage flash of control planning as to what to do with expensive, fucked up things and moments.

Byron isn't 100% sure that he didn't cause her to fall through the splintered counter. If he hadn't reached into her mind just then, maybe she would've moved and gotten off the display case before it collapsed. That said, he's there for her now, feeling this sense of guilt, especially seeing as how much her leg is bleeding right now. Leaning in close so that she can hook her arm around his neck, he carefully draws himself up to stand, one one of his arms is placed behind her back, he leans forward for a moment to attempt to scoop her up into his arms so she doesn't have to hop around!

"You aren't keeping this thing in your safe. Or in this shop. There are people after it. I saw-- no, I heard them pounding on the door in some random memory attached to that box." The first one. "What we're doing now is taking you to get patched up once we stop the bleeding and disinfect. In case that." His chin lifts to the split open flesh on her leg, "needs stitches."

He blinks on realizing that Carver is still here, before giving the man this look akin to 'I'm doing the right thing, aren't I?' What he does say, though is, "Let's get her cleaned up for now."

Carver's settled into a casual worrying of his thumbnail as Lilith comes up with a plan and is helped out of the display, and he's casually sticking his pinky finger in one ear to get rid of an itch when Byron veto's the idea thanks to addition information. See, kids, touch random things and see into their soul! It can be helpful!

Checking the tip of his finger for any wayward residue, there's a subtle little wipe of it across another counter as he takes a few steps forward, right into the blinking realization of Byron. And gives the guy a good ol' fashioned shrug of 'Fuck if I know, mate, here be dragons.' in return. Which... is something he needs to fix. Dragons are bad. Very quickly, his brain runs through a couple of options, including a glance down to the blood dripping leg. Fingers scratch at his chin. Scratch a bit more. Scratch one more ti- "As she's not trying to feel you up for your box, I'm thinkin' whatever it did has passed for now. At least for enough time to gauze up that leg." A beat. "Probably. First aid kit in the office?"

It sounds like a question, but with Carver already moving that way, it probably wasn't.

Guys, Lilith is a responsible business owner. Everything is ducks in order, there's security cameras and an alarm system to extensive levels given what people generally don't know about the cash and items that flow and house in that shop. There's even a fire extinguisher because she starts fires! The office door is open and that safe that is in there is huge, floor anchored and... there's no first aid kit. You plan for business and money and building problems, not the potential of casualty when setting up shop!

Carrying the thing around sounds like a terrible idea, hiding the thing sounds like a terrible idea, Byron having the thing in general sounds like a terrible idea, so Lilith is really dug in about locking it down while bleeding even though she can't see it. She's clearly thinking about it and has a distinct need to keep the thing safe, but that desire doesn't come back with flood into her eyes. "No, but I can send one of you upstairs for a towel, I think all I have are bandaids for paper cuts. Let's adjust plan in the interim while we figure this out."

"It's dangerous to be carrying around. I will go have my leg checked because..." Lilith looks down at herself with arm lowering into loop around Byron's mid-back and waist to balance while holding the leaking limb out for survey. She looks inclined to consider whether or not she can just bandaid it so they can move on, but she makes barter in the name of making Byron sated enough, "It probably needs it. We'll talk on the way -after- locking it in the safe and setting all the alarms while we're out. Alarms and security camera alerts can be turned to my phone. We'll know if the shop is being forced in the meantime."

There's a hole here. She knows Byron doesn't want to leave it where she sleeps or for her to go touching again. She caveats, "Byron. I'll shift cash to my upstairs safe and change the lock access to the safe down here where it is when we get back. I will lock myself away from it and give you the access." Then she pressgangs. Her eyes swap to Carver, "... I'll pay you to sleep in my office or hang around here until we figure out what to do with it, at that." Is that an offer or something that's just happening now? Unclear. She's moving on to the next affair while digging her loft keys from inside her little sports bra cleavage pocket. It's legitimate as a stash place when you don't have pockets or a purse and they were going to go running before the shit hit the fan, okay.

"Now will one of you get me a towel so we can get this show on the road and get on one page about this?"

And maybe, just maybe, it's not a far cry for her to be familiar with giving orders to men as she sees fit. Maybe it's pain and exasperation but she's just really good at it.

While Byron carries Lilith towards the office, trailing behind Carver as he searches for the first aid kit, he will come out and say, "The only way that I would leave the thing here is if this entire shop was made of steel or this was a giant safe. Anyone can break down your door and so what if you are alerted by it? This shop is the last place I'd want it to be. Unless you have a secret underground vault that I don't know about where the door to get in is made of steel and is so hidden that it's undetectable, then no. Of all places /this/ would be the most likely one if someone were trying to 1. Get rid of the thing to hide. or 2. Get money to get the fuck out of here. So like I said, unless you have a fucking hidden safe underground, then absolutely not."

He, himself, doesn't look like he's about to budge unless someone gives him a god damn reason to put any trust in leaving the thing here. Once inside the office, he finds a seat to lower her into, his eyes still looking at the blood seeping out from her open wound. "I'll get the towel and whatever else I can find there." With that, he AND THE GEMSTONE head to the upstairs loft keys in hand.

For Carver's part in all this, he's largely passive. At least to start with. A cursory look around the office reveals nothing of use, and any further investigation is interrupted by the other two arriving not far behind. Turns out Lilith knows what she's got stocked, medical-wise. Who'd have thought? Carver looked anyway because... well, that's just what you do, right?

The planning and the debate continue while he moves off to one side, leaning up against the talked about safe and seemingly giving the conversation about 20% of his total attention, watching the two of them dance back and forth on the idea with a modicum of impassivity as he instead decides to fill the time by patting down his jacket's pockets. He waits to check the interior of his jacket until Byron is mostly up the stairs, not-at-all-but-totally rolling his eyes as he heads on over to Limp-Along, calling up with a quick "Find a shirt instead. And water." Towels leave fibers. "Towel fibers are real shitty in open slices."

"If..." He continues with nary a pause, kneeling down in front of the seat Lilith was lowered in to, his searching hands pulling out a very tightly wrapped roll of gauze and a bundle of antiseptic wipes from inside his jacket. Casual as hell, not even a hint of eye contact nor the slightest impression that he's going to explain why he carries such a thing with him. Well, Carver as a human being is a pretty good explanation for why he's carrying very light medical equipment, but that's neither here nor there. "If you're paying, I'm staying. But just so you know, I recognize that tone." Speaking of tone, his is pretty flat. And still no eye contact, the man focused entirely on the wound, hands taking the plastic wrapping from around the gauze and wiping away most of the blood that's run down her leg. "And back then it was uttered by things with tooth and claw you could only dream of. Please don't try that again."

A moment passes, and one more clean wipe along the top of her shin.

"And tell your friend the same."

Lilith shifts as she's seated by Byron and listens to him dig in on her with return, which is entirely expected now that she's sitting still to realize the stubborn inevitability. Apparently, she's grown out of the urge to pick up the nearest thing and ping him with it when he turns with the last word for now... carrying the damn stone-of-issue she doesn't want him carrying anymore than he wants to lock it up.

Instead, she pulls in a breath and looks like she's going to go on a really detailed rant about why her shop is -fine-. She might be defensive as reflex! It's admittedly hyper-secure for a pawn shop via her own detailed arranging, considering they aren't in Detroit or anything. But then Lilith remembers why it's so fine and grinds her teeth instead while considering that and what else could go wrong. Fine. For -now-.

If she was going to throw a fit, the moment passes into something like a sulk when the woman's lashes drop to consider the blood and her gashed knee, which... is really starting to hurt with adrenaline wearing off. Just because she can dish physical pain out doesn't mean she's real happy or good at taking it. So while she's watching Carver drop down to speak and unpack his pockets, she shoots off pissily when he calls her on the general imperious tone of her voice prior, "You tell him." But then she pauses and drops her voice and her shoulders to suck in little hiss when she accidentally moves her leg to turn it for his cleaning out of habit, "... sorry. Just. Bossy is a stress reflex. None of us know what to do and I feel..."

She doesn't keep that vein of thought, what she feels like as residual after that touch, she swerves for right now to power through, "Thanks."

"For people who didn't know what to do, you sure seemed intent on opening all of those boxes." There's not a hint of judgment in Carver's voice, and any you think you hear is just the accent. Seriously. No bullshittery roll required. "And Besuited up there rummaging through your unmentionables right now sure loves to wield his little gifts like a hammer." IT'S THE ACCENT, GUYS. ONLY THE ACCENT. "Buuuuut-" All of this has been said while studiously avoiding eye contact and wiping a spot long-since cleaned. Which doesn't actually last that long considering the fact she's bleeding pretty consistently. "-We were all young idiots once. I hear some folks even grow out of it."

And really, that's about all he can do while they wait. Keep wiping, open up another pack of gauze and apply a gentle pressure with a muttered apology the second he makes contact along the wound. He'd love to press harder and actually try to stop the bleeding, but he needs water to wash it out and see if there's anything stuck in there. Not. A. Once does he look up.

"I'll take the damn thing, by the way. You don't need it here. It belongs somewhere else. Anywhere else. Anywhere that isn't here." It's almost like he's picking and inflecting the words for some reason. Hrm.

"Nonsense, pet, boxes are made to be opened. But isn't that just a case of glass houses. You kicked -my- door straight in when we met, now didn't you dove?" Lilith probably doesn't mean her actual door, and she's adopted a mimic of Carver's accent complete with up-pitch of voice when suits in the name of being cute and obtuse. She's not precisely being pissy or combative about it, though. Instead, she takes a moment to defend in more natural accent afterwards, "Besides, it really was business to start. And I had -reasons- to want to know."

Then she just plain blows out a long gust of air while reaching up with a hand to pull her hair down and free while eyeing Carver warily once he offers to take the damn thing, "... I may not know what to do with the thing, but you know as well as I do why I can't just throw it into a hole and call it a day or blindly let you do something like the same. We'll figure it out when Byron gets down." A pause, "And when he gets back down, for my sake, I hope you'll say everything you know how to say about what you know when it comes to this gem. I don't think this mysterious issue is just going to 'go away' no matter our plan of action today. And you can walk away from the trickle down consequence. But I can't."

Her leg twitches some with pained reflex but thankfully with her holding mostly still and seated now, it's slowing to natural clot without bend to re-split toward leak. Then more softly and seriously, she offers, "Seriously. You can just leave and we'll figure it out and it's fine. It's not your problem. Window open."

Byron had already found the towels and whether he figured they'd need it or not, he dampened a few and went to collect a bunch of wet paper towels. He even found those bandaids which, while they aren't all that big, will have to do the trick until Lilith gets her leg healed up.

The Pawn Shop really didn't look like the most secure place to hide something... he's not sure what it is, ominous? Something dreadful that other people seem to want. He has ideas on what to do with the thing. All of them made with a lack of information on exactly what and who they are dealing with. So Lilith thinks that her little store is a good safe house for the gemstone than his three building apartment complex complete with security at the gates leading in? From what he can see, he's not all that impressed. He has his apartment buildings guarded and heavily monitored for a reason! ... And that's because tenants expect that kind of security if they are dishing out that much money to rent a unit there. Yep, that's the only reason.

After doing a half-assed thorough inspection of her place, looking to find if there's anywhere that the gemstone could be hidden in because the first place anyone would go to would be the safe, Byron returns downstairs with makeshift medical items (mostly towels and paper towels, either damp or dry) in hand. "You know, you got a dead plant up there." He can't tell whether it's something new or the original one Lilith said she'd bought.

"And I have all of my apartment units to use, the vacant ones, to move the stone around in if necessary. That said, while I don't know if this thing grants you incredible power or anything of that sort, what I do know is that it fills you with urges to possesses it. Or touch it. And once you see just how terrible a thing it is, you're filled with a heavy sense of dread. So...." He elongates that word, "Why don't we give it to whoever wants it? Let them suffer the consequences. I mean, unless it's anything other than just some dread stone." That's when he hears some of what Carver had said just before his arrival to the office. He doesn't care where the Brit takes it... that sounds like a far better option than leaving it with Lilith who looked like she was going to jump Byron for the damn thing earlier. This has got him ending with, "It reminded me a little of the One Ring strangely enough."

"How many dull phrases do you want me to bust out right now?" Oh, that gets Carver looking up, especially when Lilith's retort comes with a bonus accent inclusion. "'Those who can't do, teach.' 'Do as I say, not as I do.' 'A watched pot never boils.'" A beat. "I'm not sure what that last one has to do with anything, but it just seemed... right." And a sign Carver would really like a cup of coffee, probably.

"But..." He pats the top of her knee. The other one. He's not that much of an asshole. Look, he's even wearing his understanding expression. It's not at all condescending. "You make an excellent point. You can't walk away from trickle down consequences. I don't have any. You and suit-man have been bickering back and forth about who needs security and who can give security and god knows what else is lingering under the surface there. Which-" A palm goes up. He's still stuck holding the gauze, after all. "-Don't get me wrong, is adorable. But fuckin' stupid. Things that come after shit like this? They don't give a fuck. They-"

Oh, look, it's a Byron, Descending. And talking about dead plants. Lilith gets a legitimate sympathetic wince at that one. There's a little awkward shuffle so he can turn to face the guy AND hold the gauze, and he nods a couple of times at the pretty concise explanation of that big ol' gem. And flashes a big beaming grin at his conclusion. "Alright, Big guy, c'mere and hold this gauze. It could probably do with a couple of stitches but honestly? Rinse it out, clean it up, bandage it tight, she'll be fine." A thumbs up is, of course, included. To both of them. "And gimme the precious."

Lilith's phone is going off somewhere in the bloody, broken jewelry case counter at a distance with a missed call but that's hardly her concern at the moment. It will be later, but she doesn't really know that. Besides, it can't be that important, it only ring cycles to voicemail the one time and a notification is left with indicative message. She hears it distantly but ignores it in favor of watching Carver after she gives him the opening, peering at him pensively from behind some rogue hair in turns between regarding her knee for the sake of something else to look at here and there to break some of the gaze's thinking intensity, "I know. But... Carver. I think this is related to something. Maybe there is no -right- place to put it -now-. But what if we found the right place? What happens if you take it and they come for me anyway and I have nothing to give? What can -you- do with it? What -is- it?"

Then Byron comes back in with dead plant news and One Ring comparisons and uh oh. She -gets- those ring comparisons on a totally nerdy level. Her shoulders start to draw in guiltily, "... oh. Well shit. I uh." Is she upset about the plant or something else? They might not have realized what happened in those seconds before the box snapped closed and thought closing it sated her. "I touched it."

Then she puts her leg out obediently with her hands curling at the edge of the office chair in preparation for the wipe, rinse, and wrap up. And that very thick silence of non-elaboration indicates she felt something else.

Seeing that Carver was already tending to Lilith's wound, Byron's attention goes to her leg, to get a better view of her injury and just to see how much blood is gonna seep through that gauze. Then there's this quirk of a brow , stating in an all-too wry tone, "You left out the fact that you're a Doctor or nurse from your business card." He's being sarcastic obviously. Nevertheless, he does as Dr. Carver says and holds onto the gauze.

At first, Byron just suspects that the odd Brit was departing. It would be the smart thing to do, but then he asks for the ring and there's this narrowing of his eyes when he looks on the other man. "Are you... alright?" The box wasn't open, so it couldn't be the effects of that magnificent piece of jewelry. Still, despite Thorne's protesting to Lilith, he honestly didn't want to have it in his own possession. So out comes that box. That container itself was a sight to see as well. There's some hesitation on his part, but rather than rudely toss the thing over to Carver, he just hands it over. "And what do you plan to do with it? Though I have a feeling that you don't even know."

It's so strange to think of a ringing phone as something ominous, but something happened here today. Some strange guy showed up and dropped of something even stranger. So even that ringing phone gets him uneasy. Returning back to Lilith, he crouches down beside her and lifts the gauze, briefly, to see what the damage is, before applying pressure there again. Though what Lily says makes him blink, "You touched it?" When did she have the time to do that! "The world didn't end. Maybe things would be far different right now if you'd held it for longer. Or were allowed to grab ahold of it yourself. I'm curious about it's corruptive power, from the bits of it that we'd experienced already."

"Everything is related to something, pet." Again, Lilith gets a pat on the opposite knee, Carver's attention turning back to her as she talks. If he notices the phone, nothing really registers about it. Possibly because he's been sleeping near the mobile of someone who is effectively being prank-called every night as of late. It's pretty good the noise doesn't distract him, though. It means he can show the best reassuring smile he's capable of mustering. Which, really, is a pretty damn good one. "But you know how much shit like this I've come across? Enough. Do you know how many of them were fun? Not a one. You're better off being as far away from this as possible." A quick head swivel to Byron, and his hand reaches out for the box. "That goes for the both of you. The fact I know how to patch up a wound, plus a thing like this?"

...He resists the urge to rattle the box, but it's oh-so-easy to tell it was a close knit thing.

"Everything is related."

And hey, now Byron's reaching for the gauze, and Carver has a box. And they're talking to each other. And not him.

Unless he's tackled to the floor, he's heading to-and-out the door.

"That man smelled like the sewers specifically, and unfortunately, Byron and I have very recent firsthand knowledge of the specific smell that indicates the guy probably had been down there very recently before bringing this in. I don't know who was telling him I was 'good' and why that was important, either. Does the name Bill mean anything to--" Lilith nods small to the 'touch' surprise and works her bottom lip hard between her teeth while looking between Carver and Byron, listening and watching the treat and fuss over her leg til it's through. Her teeth briefly set on edge during the necessary cleaning contact before it's wrapped, but when it's done she practically melts back against the chair, speaking contemplatively before realizing Carver is popping out.

She's kind of late to realize it, because while she was focusing heavily on Carver's words, it's Byron she ends up focusing on visually while explaining to the Brit. Once the dark-haired man's hand is clear of the box she doesn't realize is outgoing as yet, she reaches for that hand with her own that touched the stone, squeezing. It's not just relief or a bid for familiar comfort in that moment, the whole of the gesture is silently weighted, like she wants to say something or even have him feel something she might have felt. But then Carver is all Carver, "Hey! I might need to find that!"

She clearly wants it, but whatever irrational desire was in her before doesn't really come back. This time, Lilith seems more bent to keep it for the very sake of keeping and protecting it for some reason. Normally, a bum leg wouldn't stop her from going and tackling a damn thing she decides she wants, but if it's staying in here, that's up to Byron now to weigh whether or not he wants -Carver- running off all mysterious with the damn thing as trade.

There's a lot going on. Carver was avoiding looking at her a lot earlier. Maybe it's blood loss, but it was just a knee, not a headwound. That said... with Lilith slumped back before she sits up with the surprise of the moment... anyone -really- looking at her might just sense how -tired- she looks compared to all the coffee-readiness and sparks of animation she was earlier. The bum leg might not be the only reason she just doesn't have it in her to get up now that she's down. Huh.

The name 'Bill' brings Byron's chin to lift, his eyes turning to peer over his shoulder at the departing British guy. All that he can say about the sewers and this terrified mystery man is, "He didn't have the same voice as the other one, but whether they are connected or not? I'd love to say that it were mere coincidence, but maybe that guy got dragged down into the sewers the same way as..." He hates to admit that they've spent time down there!

With that sound of alarm in Lilith's voice when she calls out to Carver and the ring, Byron thinks on it all a moment. He doesn't know the man, but better him than either of them. Before Carver does leave though, he adds to the words thrown the other man's way, "If there's ever a case that we need that thing back, we've got your number. I'm just hoping that it doesn't come down to that." He's not even sure whether Lilith is paying the Brit to stay over as a form of protection, so that doesn't really come to mind now!

It's Lilith's weary-self that has Byron concerned now, "Here, let me bring you up to the loft. Not sure where Hank is, but I might close the shop down for the day if he doesn't show up.." There's this furrowing of his brow when he intones, "I have to take a couple of business calls today, but for now, I can probably take them from here." He'll work to scoop her up in his arms again unless she puts up a fuss, which doesn't look like it's happening.

Carver? Carver just leaves out through the front door, the noise of that second door opening coming with a little touch of delay, indicating that he didn't beeline straight there. Which is odd, considering that he didn't reply to anything anyone said.

But then again, they did leave enough money for a bus ticket sitting on that counter top, everyone distracted by the box opening.

Oh, goddamnit. It's written all over Lilith. And it's strange to feel agitated over something leaving that you never really wanted around in the first place. Is there relief? Yes, but....

So many buts. And she is very terrible about what-ifs. Because the other shoe ALWAYS drops. You can throw it far far far away. But eventually it still drops.

"Goddamn him." Or bless him. They'll figure out which, eventually. Maybe. She sounds just done with the pawn business thing for the day. "Just... lock up, people can ring the window for loan emergencies." If Lilith sounds exasperated through her fatigue and resignation, it's not with remaining company, "Byron? I don't want to touch it anymore. But I'm scared to let it go. Why? It felt... good when I touched it. I thought everything would end if I didn't. And when I did... it was a thing just like anything else. Beautiful and solid and real. But it wasn't."

The brunette sighs out a gust and hesitates a moment during the scoop up. But there's a natural want and need, perhaps, while explaining for her arms to make way with loop around Byron's neck and shoulders to nuzzle in and partially muffle in the pulse-throbbed curve there at one side, "It tremored at the core and shook me through in a way... I've never been touched back."

"Want me to bring your phone over to you? In case you, I don't know..." Byron starts to say, looking as if he may leave the rest of his statement unfinished until he ends with, "You said that you don't want to touch it. And both Mr. Carver and I felt those dark urges trying to dig deeply into our... consciousness maybe? Either way, when we refused, what came over us was something less than appealing. So whatever that thing made you think it felt, it's a good thing that you're no longer feeling it anymore. That you're not driven to hunt down Carver just to get it back."

With Lilith in his arms, he walks up those stairs with slow, careful steps. "I've run into a lot of this lately. Just the other day, when that storm hit, I was trapped in darkness in the Addington House. When we went to check where this melancholic piano melody was coming from, while everyone saw a grand ball going or something. The whole scene made them feel bewildered and yet delighted. For some reason, I was the only one who saw everything for what they were. The elegantly dressed dancers were rotting corpses, the warm light that filled the room was dark with shadow. Eventually, the veil was lifted and everyone else finally got to see what I saw."

Rather than moving her into the bedroom just yet, he crouches down to let her rest upon the couch, his dark eyes looking deeply into her own, "Temptation and trickery. That's all it is." He then releases her and rises, "I'll do just that then. Lock the shop up, flip the sign and hopefully locate your phone before too long. I'll try to stick around for some of the day. Wait for Hank. Maybe let Tobin know what's up in case I need to go. For now, though, you just get some rest, kiddo."

There's some nodding to the phone bit, but Byron has a Lilith in his arms so that part is on hold regardless of how worried she is about having it right at this moment. But it's logical to have around in case of whatever and now she's irrationally tempted to start googling the specifics of the One Ring, of all things. There's probably a point to it somewhere in her head, because she generally has logical thought processes to try and understand or explain, even for the inexplicable.

As she's moved and resettled, the brunette listens at length with no real interruption, even after she's on the couch and down and it's clear she has thoughts and opinions about a lot she's just kind of sitting on now instead of letting out, not seeming convinced it's quite the same deal. Something clammed her straight the fuck up. "Kiddo, huh. I'm older than you. Just throwing that out there." Lilith tells Byron after a little 'heh' of noise in reflex, looking down to pick at her nails instead of meeting his eyes too long, "But yeah. Trickery and temptation does a number on what actually is. I'll work on that."

After he rises, she rubs at one of her eyes, then starts to wiggle out of her shoes while reaching for a throw blanket off of the back of the couch to pull with her in cuddle, eyes straying to the now-dead plant she just got two days before... not the first whim-pot one, the second one, the one she was so proud of going to buy in a place that houses more delicate living things. Her face is still just tired and resigned but it rubs her wrong enough to quickly look away with tiny, deliberate turn to settle on a hip with recline so she can put her cheek to the arm of the couch and tell Byron, "I'm okay. I'll have my phone. It's just a knee and adrenaline come down. You can go work, you know. It's going to do what it's going to do. And I don't think either of us can stop that, now."

It's easy to forget that Lilith was older than Byron... by just a few months. So when she brings this up to him, he breaks into a wide grin. Though the full extent of the smile doesn't last long, soon it starts to fade the more he thinks of these recent events, almost happening one after the other. Yet, when he next speaks, he keeps up with a tone more suited for the smile he wore just moments ago, "You throw that in my face now. You wait til that moment where you have an urge to lie and tell everyone that you're younger than I am." It's all good-natured teasing either way.

Heading to the window, rather than drawing the curtain further open, he draws it closed, to keep the light from shining in as well as potential threats. He does the same for a majority of the windows up in the loft. "Get some sleep. You woke up early for nothing. We didn't even get the chance to break a sweat this morning. There's always next time though."

Giving the room a look over again, he starts back to the stairs, "We'll see. I'll lock up and we'll see what I need to do today." He knows what his schedule is, but for now, his main concern is for either the strange homeless man from earlier showing up here or whoever he was running away from. It will only be a few hours from now where Byron will receive a phone call of his own, informing him of a new crisis. Until then, however, he'll remain vigilant and bring Lilith her phone on his way back up.

"They're never normal, you know. The times we see each other. They're so consuming, I'm not sure we ever get to -see- each other at all." A pause, " I guess we got a reprieve on drinks, once, but that wasn't entirely normal either, considering. I just wanted this one time to... mm. Doesn't matter. We aren't dead yet." Lilith works her bottom lip between her teeth and makes an agitated noise in her throat that's almost a scoff or general middle finger at the universe. She tries to do that sleep thing after putting the television on low to some show on the Science channel, quiet and reserved til doze off, "Whatever you want to do, dollface. But... thanks." She's not likely to be making noise to interrupt work calls in the event they happen.

When the device makes it up, courtesy of Byron, her phone message is from a number that isn't saved in her phone that she doesn't recognize and she doesn't bother checking the voicemail immediately. And who knows how long she'll let it slide with avoidance of responsibility given the mood she's in now with that state of fatigue and other stresses on her. She doesn't know that it's the hospital. But eventually she figures that out.

Hank's been beat to shit. Maybe normal. Maybe not. God, does she even care at this point? Given the timing and severity... she really kind of does.