2019-07-29 - Ask for Answers

Since his release from the hospital, Byron Thorne had to work hard to reclaim this life that he had built for himself. His world felt as if it were crumbling down around him due to the neglect of his duties... among other things. He's had to play catchup with tenants, clients and the like, having his need to remind everyone that he was in control once more. Unfortunately, one of the issues that he was planning on looking into, this particular one involving Rebecca Carr, was set aside for a time; his mind preoccupied. He realizes now just how important it was to reach out to her, now that he's regained his senses, thus this meeting was called for this evening.

Dressed in a gray sports jacket and black slacks, his feet tucked into dress shoes still, he greets his guests at the door, gesturing to for them to take a seat and asking if they'd like anything to drink. Of course, he offers his condolences, once more, to Rebecca Carr as he makes his way to the bar to help get things settled. "Thank you for coming to see me. I'm afraid that this conversation is long overdue."

The French doors leading out to the rooftop terrace are left open, giving a lovely evening view of the bay.

The buildings aren't hers, the responsibility doesn't belong to her. But that didn't stop Vivian from doing what things she could while Byron was getting back on his feet. Which isn't really that much, honestly. Thankfully she seems to be relaxed, standing near the French doors and looking out at the view when everyone arrives.

When they arrive she turns away from the door, offering them both smiles, more subdued than usual though. For the meeting she's got on a pair of white dress pants and a matching jacket over a black silk blouse, but she's sporting flats instead of heels.

Rebecca has only been back in town for a few hours, having attended her sister's funeral back in Long Beach, California. She is still dressed in her 'travel clothes', consisting of comfortable yoga pants, a white tank top, and a pale blue unbuttoned cardigan with slip-on sandals. She looks like she hasn't been sleeping well, if at all. She takes off her sunglasses and there are dark circles beneath her eyes. She's been having terrible nightmares she has yet to speak of to anyone but Vyv likely heard her waking from them when she was staying in his guest room for a few days.

"I wouldn't mind a bottled water," Rebecca replies in a quiet tone. Her eyes are dulled by grief and exhaustion. She nods to Doctor Glass, remembering her vaguely from the tenants meeting. She sinks into a seat.

Vyv has not dressed up for the meeting, which is to say, he's wearing a slimly-cut suit in a warm shade of camel, a crisp white shirt, and a burgundy silk tie with small mustard polkadots, the last kept neatly in place with a fairly simple gold and garnet tie-bar. There are simple, similar cufflinks, an understated watch, brown leather brogues, and a bit of silk with a paisley pattern in burgundy, mustard, white, and browns as his pocket square. It's just that that's probably what he was wearing in any case.

"Vivian," he greets the doctor first, then, "Mr.Thorne," with an inclination of his head to them both. They both get the usual look over their chosen ensembles as well, but only Vivian gets the French-style air-kiss of greeting. Or almost French; the fact there's only one of them rather than 2+ would qualify as unusual. "A drink would be lovely, thank you." The smile they're greeted with is quite faint, but that's nothing new. He claims a seat as well, settling into it easily enough.

The first thing that Byron does is retrieve a bottle of water from the refrigerator, setting it aside when he reaches a hand to fill three wine glasses with rich Bordeaux. With the help of Vivian, the pair of them collect the bottle and the glasses to set them down on the coffee table before the couch. Taking up his own glass in hand, letting it linger between two fingers, he looks to Vivian, at first, before he asks, "Ms. Carr." A pause, as he considers on how to word this, "What is your family's history with Billy Gohl?" There's no beating around the bush here.

"Vyv, always wondereful." Vivian replies, returning the air kiss before giving his arm a quick squeeze as well, for all the crazy having kept her from catching up maybe. But then she moves to help Byron with fetching drinks and getting everything situated before she moves to find herself a seat, picking up one of the glasses to sip carefully from it. She pauses when Byron cuts right to the heart of things, but doesn't try to ease the throttle back on the conversation, instead she just looks towards Rebecca.

"I'm not sure there is one?" Rebecca asks in confusion. "I know my family lived here many years ago, but I wasn't able to find any record of the Carr family here." Because they weren't Carrs back then, they were the Baxters. Her parents have flat out refused to explain anything to their eldest daughter though. The name Billy seems to rattle her, and she looks to Vyv with concern. Is it related to the bones they brought back from the other side? She opens the water and sips from it nervously. "I read something about him in the news article recently though, the one that talked about the murders. Does this have something to do with that?"

Vyv gives Vivian a bit more of the smile in return for the squeeze, more in the eyes than the lips, and leans forward to claims a glass of the wine with a quiet "Ta," when it's set down on the coffee table. He settles back comfortably, though as seems always, not so much as to create inelegant posture. The question is not one he was expecting; brows lift, and he glances to Rebecca to see if she has an answer to give. It means he's looking the right way to meet her gaze when she looks to him, and though he probably isn't somehow reading her mind (though in this town, who knows), there's a shift of his shoulders that may be a faint shrug. He doesn't look quite as concerned, but there's probably a touch more showing than he'd prefer.

Taking his own seat now on a chair facing the couch, Byron reclines back, his wine glass carrying arm resting on the armrest. "This is just some information that I'd received through my source. I didn't have the time to look into it myself." Now his eyes flicker in Vivian's direction as some of this pertains to her, "I was told that after Billy Gohl died in that institution." She knows which one, "The Carr family petitioned for his bones." There's a furrowing of his brow now, because this information was given to him a while ago and he's trying desperately to remember all the details. "I was asked if the Carr family rang any bells for me. That said, why would your family want the bones of a serial killer?"

"Miss Carr." Vivian takes a sip from her wine, then moves to place the glass down on the table as she leans forward, "If you're not able to answer the questions, do you happen to know someone in your family that you might contact for answers? It's exceedingly important that we all get to the bottom of this..."

Rebecca blinks at Byron like he just grew a second head or turned into a Kardashian. "Where on Earth did you hear that? I don't know about that. Didn't he die in the 20s? Practically a century ago?" She seems genuinely confused about this. "What would my family possible want with a serial killer's bones? And what does that have to do with the murder of my little sister? My father is an accountant, and my mother is a psychologist. I can get you their contact information but they are mourning my sister, and I don't think it would be well-received."

Vyv blinks as well, one eyebrow arching considerably. "No," he says to Rebecca's remark about the reception, "I don't suppose it likely would." They didn't want their daughters out here in the first place. A sip of his wine, focused for a moment on Byron. "Has the genealogy been looked into yet? Both hers, and that of this Gohl? I presume it's not turned anything up, if so, but if not, it's at least one avenue for potential answers without interrupting anyone's mourning. There's quite a bit online. Apparently, people are just mad about recording everything they know for public consumption."

"We were doing research on who this William could be. The one mentioned in regards to the bones." Byron tries to clear up, "Some information came along about the institution that Gohl was kept in and... experimented on?" He's not sure. "Someone else was looking at a different angle from mine and was told that the Carr family," There's a quirk of his brow, "I will just assume that it's your family due to their ties to the Gray Harbor, "wanted Billy Gohl's bones. I'll try to inquire further about it, but as Vivian had said, if there's anyone in your family who might know more about your history, if you can, please get into contact with them. As for whether this is connected to... the recent string of murders. I can only say yes. If the murderer is the ghost or something of that nature of Billy Gohl. So far Addingtons, your sister and, I can't quite piece this part together, but the Henderson/Faust family have been affected." A pause, "Along with the Reedes as of recently."

"All people that might be connected to him...and what was done. I imagine they might have wanted his bones to burn them." Vivian ventures, glancing first at Vyv like she's willing him to pick up on what she's saying, then towards Rebecca, "If more lives weren't in danger we would not be bothering you, Miss Carr. I apologize for this, but it is to save others in the future."

"And Mrs. Lewis, correct?" Rebecca adds with a frown, remembering the other dead tenant. "I can ask my brother to do some digging. He's a police officer in Thousand Oaks, California. He might have some records access we don't, and his badge might open some doors. But I cannot promise cooperation from my immediate family. They are understandably devasated right now." She stands, looking deeply shaken. "If you'll excuse me. I've been traveling today, and I need to go get some rest."

Vyv catches Vivian's glance, and there's a small pause, a much smaller quirk of his brow than before. If that means he's picking up what she's putting down, it doesn't result in him leaping on it immediately. "Mrs. Lewis falls under Addingtons, I believe," he answers Rebecca, "She was Hyacinth's aunt. If you think your brother would be amenable, that sounds reasonable." A look to the others, "And if you'll give me what's already known, I'll see whether I have luck turning anything up, either way." He looks up slightly, since Rebecca's now standing and gives her a very slight pat on the forearm. "Oh." That free hand dips into his pocket, coming out with a key, which he offers over to her. "You're in 707. Things ought to be satisfactory, I think. Do let me know." A slight pause. "And welcome back."

When Rebecca inquires about Mrs. Lewis, Byron is pleased that Vydal seems to know the answer to that. "Unfortunately, this is not the best time to be an Addington. Then again, other families were hit. Some more obvious as to why than others. It's these others that we need to figure out. Why the Hendersons. Why the Reedes." When he says this, his jaw tenses. "What I do know, or what I've heard, at least the Carr family might have some connection."

When Rebecca rises to stand, so does Byron to trail alongside her and lead her to the door. "Thank you for speaking with us. I don't know whether our findings will be of any help in stopping this killer, but the more information we possess, the more... ammo we have to use against him." He wears this stony look on his features, "I wish we could've done more to help your sister, but from what I'm learning now, I don't even know where to begin when it comes to taking protective measures." His features now soften, "Please contact me if you are in need of anything and I'm sure we will speak again soon."

"Miss Carr." Vivian offers, but she doesn't offer much more than that, nor does she get to her feet, either, instead she remains where she is, reaching for her wine again.

Rebecca looks at the key she is given, and her eyes waver and well with tears. "Thank you," she croaks out to Vyv. She heads out before she can start crying fully. Her boss has already seen her like this far too much in the last few weeks. She gives Byron a somber nod as he escorts her to the door. Then she departs.

Oh god, more tears! It's like someone's decided Vyv needed a good course of exposure therapy, lately. ...okay, it would be if the world revolved around him, but you know. Close enough. Maybe it'd be working, if so, because he only looks very faintly uncomfortable, and the 'your're welcome' look and inclination of his head seem sincere. He takes a sip of his wine, watching Bryon escort her to the door, and remains silent until said door has firmly closed behind her, and a couple extra seconds past that.

"This is about those bones, isn't it," he says then, looking from one of them to the other. It's not entirely a question. "At a guess, they weren't burnt, were they?" It's very even, though the hint of annoyance is too natural to him not to be there at all.

"They are about the bones." Byron says in a slow pace back to the couch and his glass of wine. Rather than taking a seat, he leans forward to scoop the glass up, lifting it to his lips. After a quarter of his glass, his arm slowly lowers, "The bones were separated in the hopes that whoever was looking for them didn't get their hands on them. I'd also just learned the other day that a friend of mine, an archeologist, burned her share of the bones." The edges of his lips lower when he says, "Her mother was found murdered soon afterwards."

There is a very faint frown at that, and Vivian takes another large swallow from her wine before she sets the glass down, "If burning them gets someone around us killed, then whoever does the deed needs to make sure that they are willing to pay the price. But it's clear that burning the bones will have some effect, I'd like to think for the better in the long run."

"And quite a number of people who haven't burnt any bones have had someone close to them murdered," Vyv says, "...burning them in the first place would presumably have been fairly effective in keeping them out of whoever's hands." He tilts his glass just a little, a glance at the moving liquid, then back to them. "Has anyone been murdered outside of Grey Harbor? Anyone relevant, obviously, I presume homicide hasn't taken a holiday just for us, lovely as that might be."

"We have an interested party who wants one of Gohl's bones." Byron decides to relay, bringing his glass up for another sip, "The others, Clayton and Reede," He just assumes that Vyv knows these people, "believe that this Archivist will unlock some important information, maybe, to either put a stop to these murders or to give insight on the town's darkness. I'm not even sure. So one of these bones is reserved for that. The others," He turns to Vivian now, "I'd hate to be the one asking for volunteers for this bone burning. In case it does bring death to the family."

Vivian's quiet for a little while, her fingers absently twisting a ring around on her right index finger, "I wouldn't ask for volunteers." She shakes her head, glancing between the pair of them, "I'd do it..if it comes to it, but I couldn't bring myself to be the one to ask for volunteers to do it. I couldn't face the person who volunteered if someone close to them got murdered."

Vyv takes another glance from one of them to the other. "I'll take it from that that the answer is 'not as far as we know', then? Because if so, people without local ties might be taking less of a risk. But of course, we've no idea whether having even one bone remaining," a glance to Byron, "might be enough for things to continue. And that's already presuming that burning them all would end it." He doesn't volunteer whether he'd be willing to volunteer, or if he'd feel able to face someone who did in the case of another murder, but he doesn't leap into saying Vivian mustn't take the risk, for what that's worth.

"Clayton and Reede. Reede's the one who burnt hers, I take it." He pauses for a thoughtful sip of the wine. "I've not met either of them, I believe. Perhaps I should? Who is this archivist and what does he want the bone for? There is..." he trails off for a moment before continuing, "...a considerable amount of data I lack. It's vexing. And half the questions sound insane to begin with. Although a good deal less so than they might've once."

Taking a few steps in the direction of the French doors, Byron stops to admire the view, as dark as the night sky is. "I have no answer for that, Mister Vydal." He torso then twists so that he looks at Vyv from over his shoulder, "That may be the case. It would be something to experiment with. Asking an outsider to burn the bones. Preferably an outsider who doesn't shine." The way that Byron is speaking, there's a hint that he expects to leave this outsider uninformed of the consequences as well.

Returning to the evening view, Vivian can't see his frown, but he is semi-frowning. "I wouldn't want to do that to you or your family, Viv. I see the Archivist tomorrow. I'll let you all know what is found out." It's only then that he turns, facing the others directly, "I don't know who or /what/ the archivist is. Think of a pink slime fish with a downturned mouth and beady eyes." A pause, "It always looks like he's melting into more goo." He does have to blink when Vyv asks what the archivists wants the bone for, "To turn over to the Bone Collector." Of course. He doesn't say that last part. "Someone or something that I have yet to meet."

"There's a considerable lack of data for all of us, Vyv...Afraid that they didn't provide us a text book, but believe me...The idea of writing it all down for future generations is an appealing one. Even if I have a suspicion that it'd end up very, very badly." She glances over towards Byron, studying him for just a moment before she gets to her feet.

"I wouldn't want to do it to myself or my family either, part of me selfishly hopes some other brave soul volunteers without asking so I can hide from the problem." She stops next to him, a hand reaching out for his arm, "Tomorrow?" Maybe she lost track of the days, doesn't remember. Maybe he never told her. The past week has been a mess, and she's probably forgotten half the things she shouldn't.

Bone collector? "Oh, quite, what was I thinking." It's dryer than the wine, which Vyv is definitely going to continue drinking right now. Though not fast enough to require a second glass. "A grumpy, melting pink slime fish. I'm not sure there are powerful enough gloves in the world to protect most sorts of archives from that, but all right. I'll take your word for it." He won't entirely enjoy it, though.

"You might be right, though, about getting someone who-- doesn't shine to do it. Somewhere out of town, perhaps? If we could get convincing papers saying whose bones they supposedly were and that they needed cremation, perhaps we could just handle it the boring, old-fashioned way." He does not say 'like we tried to originally', but he probably doesn't have to.

"Whatever can be written down, I would appreciate it. I do understand there's no textbook, but I'm fairly sure I still require the remedial class to get properly up to speed." A pause. "I'm willing to accept seminars and symposia too, I suppose. At any rate... if you'll give me what's known thus far about the various families involved, I can poke a bit at their trees and see if anything useful falls off a branch."

Byron doesn't mind the dry tone which Vyv uses, he would react the same if someone told him about the pink melty fish and this Bone Collector as if one should've known that by now. No, he just sips as his own wine glass as well. They all probably need more alcohol right now, to be honest. When he notices Vivian approach, watching her reach out to land a comforting touch on his arm, Thorne affords her a smile. "That's what I got on the voice mail a few days ago," When he was still corrupted by the ring, "Tomorrow." That arm, his good arm, wrapping around her waist as he considers the conversation at hand.

"Write it down? I would send you to speak to someone who has more experience regarding all of this. Someone who has been doing research of this town for years now, but I don't believe he'll want that responsibility." His eyes alight on Vyv, "You know about dreams, having been pulled into one. You've heard bones demand to be buried. You can see people who shine and know that such people have abilities that they can perform, correct?"

"Be careful." Vivian points out quietly, winding her arms around his waist before she glances over at Vyv when Byron directs the questions to him, "I'm still working on the abilities part, Vyv. Supposedly there's something I can do, I just haven't worked out what or how yet, so if you've not gotten to it don't feel you're too far behind me." She glances up at Byron, considering, then back to Vyv, "He's right though, there's someone with a lot more knowledge out there. I'd be willing to make the introduction, if you can get past his appearance."

"...two," Vyv says, glancing from the contents of his glass to the couple. "I've now been in two. Is 'dream' the technical term for those events? Because I'm quite certain I wasn't asleep for either. Yes, I can see... something in people, something much more common here than other places I've been. Shine seems a fair enough way to put it, I suppose."

He thinks about it a breath before going on. "I know people can do... things, but I don't know just what things people can do. What the boundaries might be. I know I can perform a certain amount of telekinesis, and in some situations it seems as though I can sense the flow of electricity." The first he's quite sure about; the second is a bit iffier, from tone as well as phrasing. "...and I suspect I can tolerate a certain amount of unpleasantness in the service of learning more." A faint smile. "I wouldn't genuinely rather die." Though he does add after a breath, "What precisely ought I be bracing for?"

The arm around Vivian gives her a little squeeze when Byron pulls her towards him, close enough to place a kiss at the edge of her lips when he leans forward. "We've got Billy's bones, which should mean they aren't interested in ours anymore." Yes, those freaks would've taken anyone's bones. He's quiet now when he listens to the power sets that Vyv rattles off. "I only do emotional readings and things of that nature." Mindfucking, "Though the electricity? That's part of my power set." For reasons.

Downing the remainder of his wine, he starts his way to the kitchen to put the empty glass into the dishwasher. "Probably the Shadowmen, Dolorphage. Most recently, I've heard them called the Darkmen. That and any of their minions. And whatever Billy Gohl is, I have no idea what part he plays in any of this. For now, however," He announces, "I need to get some rest. I have a large nosed fish to speak to later in the day. Vydal? Thanks for coming and as Vivian says, she'll get you into contact with the person who you would need to speak with for more information." He can just see how thrilled Alexander will be about that. "I'll keep in touch with both you and Miss Carr. But until then." He begins to wander bedroom-ward.

"Sleep well." Vivian moves back towards where she'd been sitting earlier, dropping herself into it with a slightly worried look cast after Byron. She waits until he's shut the bedroom door before she looks back towards Vyv, "Mister Alexander Clayton."

It's just a name, and doesn't tell Vyv at all what he should be bracing for. But she waits to see if there is any recognition to the name before she goes about describing what might need warning against.

"Good night," Vyv says to Byron, with a small inclination of his head, "and thank you for the invitation." He's in a decent spot to watch Byron departing and Vivian watching as well, which is what he does, letting it be silent for those moments and drinking a bit more. "Dolorphage," he murmurs, "...pain eater, mm? Interesting." So's the 'power set' thing, really. But when Vivian's attention returns his way, the rest of the topic is easily moved on to.

"Mister Alexander Clayton. Of the aforementioned Clayton and Reede, I suppose?" Reasonable guess, though he doesn't really know yet if it might be as frequent as Addington around here. No other apparent recognition, however.

"Correct." Vivian replies with a nod, "He's..." She tilts her head very faintly, "Rough around the edges, but if it hadn't been for him and someone else recently, I'm not sure what would have happened with this ring situation." She leans forward for her wine, picking it back up, "He's not a very big people person, either. I think you'll find that he's got a lot of information that is helpful, but he's probably going to not be someone you'd normally bother talking to."

Vyv arches a brow. "What's this ring situation?" he asks, "I'm clearly missing out on all the exciting goings-on these days. That's going to have to change." The rest he considers over another sip, of which sadly few now remain. "Mn. All right. Has a lot of helpful information outweighs the vast majority of forms of rough around the edges I can think of off the bat. But you're still being a bit mysterious about it, you know." He doesn't bother to deny there are people he wouldn't normally bother talking to. Surely everyone has plenty of those.

"I like Mister Clayton, despite his flaws, I actually do like the man. He's willing to do things, go the extra distance despite his own desire not to, and that is admirable." Vivian finishes her wine, getting to her feet to go and set the glass in the kitchen sink, "I'll reach out to him and set up a meeting...as for the ring? Just a cursed item. It's been dealt with now, though."

Vyv tilts his head, eyes slightly narrowed and brow furrowing a bit as he regards Vivian. "You do realise you've just said 'just a cursed item', yes?" The tone can't quite decide whether to be amused or incredulous. "I think you might be going native." He finishes off his glass as well, and considers it briefly before rising and following to the sink with it. "I suppose that's a good quality, yes. Even if you seem strangely unwilling to enumerate these flaws. They do say forewarned is forearmed, you know. And wide-eyed naïf that I am, I'd actually quite like to hear about this cursed item thing, as well."

"I'll make a deal with you." Vivian glances towards the bedroom door, "Tomorrow, while he is handling this archive problem, we can sit down and talk. I'll tell you all about the ring, and everything I know revolving around it."

Vyv takes his go to rinse out the glass and set it beside hers in the sink, then turns to lounge lightly against the edge of the counter. Must have some faith in the cleanliness of Byron's flat. "Mn. Throw in that list of names so I can start poking my nose into things, and you've got a deal," he says, offering a hand to shake on it. "And don't think I've not noticed you're still skipping the other question too. But, I suppose I can let you go get some," there's no pause, though there is a flicker of a glance to follow her own toward that bedroom door, "rest."

"I'll throw in the list of names." Vivian assures him, reaching out to take the offered hand, sealing the deal, "I'll even bring dinner...it won't be anything as nice as I'm sure you can make, but my treat for putting you off for another day." Only once the handshake is done does she cross her arms over her chest, "Shall I walk you out then?"

"Done." Vyv straightens back up to his more usual posture, and for all that there's probably still some annoyance under it about being put off, it's amusement that currently shows -- mostly in his eyes, though there's a small half-smile as well. "I'll look forward to it, then. And thank you, but you needn't. You've sleep to get and I'm reasonably confident I can find the door from here." An inclination of his head that moves his shoulders just a little, like the ghost of bows long past, and he turns to saunter appropriately doorward. He's nearly there when he glances back to add, "It is nice seeing you again, Vivian. Sleep well." And a few seconds later, he's gone.