2019-08-05 - Totally Unprepared

Rather than using his office space for work, Byron is relaxing on his sofa with a laptop in his lap. While he doesn't wear any sort of suit jacket, he's still dressed in a navy blue dress shirt with black tie and slacks. Sure, he has a good view of the bay from within his office, but out here, there's more open space and with the french doors open, it pulls in some of that bayside breeze. With one hand scrolling through a document on the laptop touchpad, the other idly spins a pen in his long fingers. His phone rests beside him on one of the cushions and there's a tall cup of espresso with French Vanilla flavoring within reach, settled upon the low coffee table.

He's back in form since the ring incident and despite some of the odd tasks that he was given to do regarding a particular pile of bones, he's doing some actual work too. Landlord work. Investor work.

Byron isn't the only one that's been busy the last few days. Vivian has spent more time out of the penthouse then in it, work takes her out after all. For whatever reason, though, she's in the penthouse today, mostly keeping herself to the guest room where he can sometimes hear her voice. By the tone and a few snippets of words it's probably a safe bet that she's been talking to patients.

Eventually she makes her way out of the room to move towards the kitchen, her phone still in her hand just in case it decides to ring. Again.

At least on his end, things have been mostly quiet, even though he wears his headset in the case of a call. But it seems that most of Byron's interactions have been done via text messaging, email or an instant messenger on his laptop. The spinning pen stops and he leans forward to set it onto the table right before scooping up the cup of coffee in hand. It's hard to keep his mind on his actual work when the weirdness that he's thrust into, surrounding Gray Harbor tends to interfere.

Taking a sip from his mug, his gaze lifts to note Vivian making her way out from the guest room and that's when that Gray Harbor weirdness comes back into the limelight to cast a long dark shadow over other responsibilities. The laptop screen is lowered and he repositions himself on the couch, letting his legs hang down, loafers touching the floor. "So you're meeting up with Marshall? How--" He's not sure how to phrase the question, not quite certain as to how this all works, "How will you get to wherever you need to? To get the keys?" Yes, he'd read the text message.

"I don't actually know." Vivian replies as she gets herself a glass of water, tucking her phone into her back pocket as she steps back out of the kitchen, "I really wish that I had an answer for that. I'm hoping that someone knows how to get back to the office. I can follow the same path I did last time when I ended up there, but I don't know how much help that'll be."

There is a slow sip from the water, then she moves towards one of the chairs, settling in it, "My things are packed, though. So if I don't come back you should be able to dispose of them quickly and effortlessly."

"Our return to City Hall led us back to the place that we visited the first time around. To meet with the Archivist." Byron relays that bit of information, "Though the entry point was different than when we were first there. We took another way in. Another doorway at the side of the building." Sipping from his cup, he leans forward again to set it back down. "In fact, we had to walk through an entirely different department just to reach the Archivist's lair, but... we got a summons, which is why we were able to get in."

"Why don't I go with you?" He asks, now pushing the laptop off from him and onto the space opposite to where his phone rests. "I know that this is business that you have with one," Or more, "of your patients, but this goes beyond doctor-patient confidentiality. Pulling himself up to stand, he moves to where Vivian is seated, reaching out a hand to place at her shoulder, carefully kneading at its graceful slope.

"You know that if something goes awry, I'm going to have to come looking for you, right?"

"If that's the case I may wander around the hospital for weeks." Vivian replies with a frown, then she shakes her head, "Whatever it might be, it'll have to be figured out. Evidently without the keys none of this works, and I don't know how to get there, I know...theoretically where it was in relation to this world."

Which is an exasperating situation, if she stops too long to think about it. "You can speak with Mister Marshall if you wish to come along, I'm afraid that I'm not in control of who or what is going on this particular adventure." A hand reaches up to give his a squeeze, "And if something goes awry you are not going to come looking for me."

"What if the reason why you were able to access that place before is that someone wanted you t--." Byron stops. That someone is now dead. "I don't know if he can return as a spirit or ghost like others are able to," He's only spoken to one ghost... "to help guide you, but I hope that Marshall has a plan. I'll contact him to inquire. Hopefully, he's in a far better state of mind than the last time we spoke."

Feeling that squeeze at his hand, his own grip moves further up her willowy neck, to massage at its base right at the inner section of the shoulder, Byron says with a sound of exasperation in his voice, "Why wouldn't I? We've lost several to this other place is it is. Important people. I'm not going to just give up." No matter how impossible it seems like that they'll ever find any of the Lost.

Not to change the subject, but he decides to bring this up anyway since Vivian was involved, "Rebecca Carr got back to me regarding her possible family ties to this serial killer mess. She's a Baxter, so that explains some of it."

"Why wouldn't you? You would. I know that you would, but it's less about that and more about the fact that I wouldn't want you t put yourself at risk." Vivian tilts her head when he starts to rub her shoulder, eyes closing slowly, "You have a lot of people that rely on you, Byron. You can't come running off after just me...that's not fair to them."

There is a pause, then she nods, "So the Carrs are Baxters?" She glances upwards at him, "If it's tracing them down through even far flung family trees then anyone could be next."

"I mean," Byron says, his brow furrowed now, "What you said about this institute watching people like us and having some of them be committed there, that means that Tobin's mother or Isidore could possibly still be around. That is unless they are killed there. Or die there as William Gohl did." Reaching for his phone, he taps out a text message for Easton, looking uncertain as to how the other man would take his request.

"Yeah, supposedly Miss Carr's great grandfather changed his name from Baxter to Carr. This was already after their branch of the family had moved away from Gray Harbor." Byron murmurs, "I mean, all the pieces fit, except for the Hendersons, but I just figure that they are another Baxter or Addington blooded."

"If the Carrs are, then it stands to reason that the Hendersons are in some way connected." Vivian gets to her feet once more, picking up her glass to head towards the bar, "The problem is that depending on when and where people moved away, married into other familes, changed there names...there isn't any way to track everyone down. Even they are actually in town, even." She finishes the water before reaching for a bottle of vodka to pour herself a shot, "Maybe that's how come some people are being drawn here of all places."

There is a very slight salute to him before she downs the small shot, setting it down on the bar, "You're right though. Anyone that has vanished or been committed might be in this place, I know that people have been released, as well. But the question is why those people...are they doing the asylum's work now? The ...bad men's work?"

Byron never really considered who else would have been committed to this mystery asylum. One name was mentioned: Alice Whitehouse. Who else would have been released? "So.. Alice Whitehouse is still unaccounted for? She may still be at that institution? Who was released again?" If he was told, he wasn't taking notes. "If you have a list. I mean, it's not strange to be committed when you come from Gray Harbor. Though sometimes that's under the guise of your just being transferred to another school. Moving to another city or state. Isabella," He starts, "Moved shortly after Isidore vanished. I believe that was her way of her parents protecting her..." He hurriedly adds, "And I doubt that her parents would ever have her or her brother committed. But there are instances fo that happening."

"Alice Whitehouse is still there, yes. As far as any of us know, and it was her sister that originally set this path out...So if I can find an answer to where her sister is, I will." Vivian leans against the bar, her hands resting on it, "I shouldn't tell you the name of who it is, because that is still confidential information. But..." And this is where her professional ethics are screaming at her to not do it, and the hesitation is clear, "Hannah Butler, she was committed in Bellevue, Washington...and Julia Velez."

Alice Whitehouse was a given, though some thought that her sister Violet, should be committed as well. Byron doesn't say any of this, but he's heard stories at that time. However, one of the new names mentioned has him blinking in surprise. He doesn't know this Hannah Butler, aside from the fact that she's a tech person and new to town. Julia Velez, however... "Julia too?" He'd heard rumors about that as well when they were still kids. "I mean, I know that she was sent off to somewhere, but... the idea that they were all shipped to /this/ place and then they were released. I mean, I'm /glad/ that they were released."

"Maybe you shouldn't be...After the conversation where Doctor Marshall talks about how they allow some of us to walk around because we are doing what they want, it makes me wonder why they'd let someone out." Vivian shakes her head a moment, her eyes closing just a moment before she looks back at him, "If this place is capable of breaking them, and turning them into some Manchurian Candidate then there are potentially countless timebombs out there. But that is why it is important to find this place and see exactly what they are doing in there. Why I was willing to take the risk and convince Marshall that I wanted to be his darling apprentice."

"What about those of us who they feel are doing what they want? Those of us not committed?" Byron asks with a raise of his brow. He's never been committed, though he's sure his parents would have loved to have done so. "I understand your point and it makes me wonder why they were released too." A firm hand rubs thoughtfully at his short-trimmed beard as he considers his options, "I could reach out to Julia Velez and have her meet with us." His eyes flicker on over to Vivian, "See what she is willing to tell us regarding her stay there."

Vivian shakes her head at that, "No, that's a potentially traumatic experience she doesn't need to relive right now. If there are still questions about it after we find this place then perhaps then. But if she's just an innocent kid that they let go, I don't want to be the one responsible for causing more damage in her life. No...just leave her be. As for those just walking around? I've no idea. I don't think I or you are doing their work, but...Maybe we are doing something they want."

"What if she's being plagued by... all of this?" Byron then asks, taking a few steps in a slow pace around the room. "We talked about some things, the darkness here. She could be a target at any moment if the Institute wishes to pull her back in. But you're right-- though I just can't see her as someone being used as this device for the," Dolorphage, Shadow men, "Darkmen. I... I won't bring up the institute with her, unless conversation leads to that. There's darkness in this town and she is more than willing to talk about it."

"Start from there, then. Talk about what her feelings are with the town, what's happened in it...but I wouldn't talk about the institute." Vivian agrees, checking her watch before she sighs, "I should start getting ready though, I figure I shouldn't wear a suit and heels."

It's at that moment that his own phone goes off, rattling away as it vibrates. Byron doesn't like the message that he receives, but he won't argue with it. "Looks like Marshall thinks that he can handle this. I'd say that I disagree and I probably do, but," And there's always a but. He sighs, his words coming out heavy, "I don't like this, Vivian. Not one bit." He shakes his head out of his own sense of frustration, his lips pursed. "But I'm not going to interfere. Unless I have to. I'd ask you to message me if you're in trouble, but I know that's not possible."

Stepping forward to further close the distance between them, he places a hand at her shoulder, resting his forehead against her hair, "You know what I'm going to say. Be careful."Stepping back now, he considers with a cant of his head, "I'd say dress for the part that you're planning on playing. But yeah, the heels at least, probably won't be ideal." Hell, Byron visits dreams and the veil in his suit all the time!

"I have flats." Vivian replies after a moment of thought, a hand reaching up to his cheek, "I'll let you know as soon as we're back on this side of things, though. As soon as I can, at least." She offers his a smile that is meant to be reassuring, although it also seems worried, "I'll be as careful as I can."