2019-08-20 - Fratricide Is Hilarious

The place is so nice, Erin calls her grandmother's house the mansion. As for her, she's already made arrangements to be there, inside the house already so she doesn't suddenly appear with the others. She had to stay on the right side of the family and that didn't include a sudden onslaught of uncomfortable questions. But she was there to listen and stand beside her relatives as they were summarily cross examined so to speak. She joins the room as the others do, but she has a seat on one of the settee's there. Don't dare call it a couch to Margaret! A Davenport would be fine though.

Anything ostentatious.

She's dressed casually today, in jeans, a blouse and a blazer thrown over it, never one to fuss over her appearance and does just enough to keep herself presentable, forever finding that careful balance between fashionable and functional. Instead of her usual sandals, however, she is wearing boots, her moonstone pendant swinging in front of her shirt at every step as they are led to where Margaret and Thomas Addington wait.

Besides. she already has to dress up later and she doesn't want to do that twice today.

Isabella follows Byron, her steps directly in line with Alexander's shadow, her brisk, businesslike strides leaving clipped audible notes down the polished hallway. There's a curious sweep of her eyes at the decor, taking a good and careful look at any portraits, if there are such things, on the way to the meeting room.

Alexander is not dressed to make a good impression on anyone, really. He's in an old Iron Maiden t-shirt, covered by a long-sleeved flannel shirt, worn jeans, and old work boots. Which may be why he is lurking near Isabella, hands in his pockets, bangs falling over his eyes, and just generally trying to disappear into the wallpaper. Which, let's face it, would be an insult to the wallpaper. His gaze is sharp and nervous, darting from place to place as they're shown through the intimidating house to the room. He does manage a quiet, "Ms. Addington. Mister Addington. Thank you for seeing us."

Having made an appointment with Margaret Addington through Hyacinth Addington, while Byron didn't find it curious that the family matriarch would prefer to meet at incredibly lavish home complete with extra rooms that most people may have no use for rather than his at his office, the request did make him a tiny bit wary. Nevertheless, he arrives in a full suit and tie, cutting an expensively professional image. A gold watch is secured to his wrist, one which he lifts to check the time.

"This will be interesting." He says to the group at hand, seeing that they've all made it here. This isn't actually the first time that he's been at the Addington place, having attended some function or other in the past. He's still impressed by it all nevertheless. Seeing as his own plans have now changed, I mean, everyone was TOGETHER in this, he clear his throat, his posture straight as he allows his gaze to roam the room all the while watching the Addingtons on the Davenport, he figures. "Yes, I hope that we haven't caught you at an inopportune time." Despite the appointment!

Hyacinth works out of two of those homes and is now gracing the third with her presence. Oh you lucky family. There has never been a door she's not walked through where she hasn't by virtue of standing in it, started to assess and command a room. 'er imperiousness' she is oft called behind her back. Good! Here, however, she seems to take this in stride with the Tik-Tak of her one stiletto and the carved, fabricated appendage that is white and reminiscent of the original lathed curves of the home. It goes splendid with the black tailored linen skirt and jacket. Like a terrifying Barbie doll come to conquer the globe mourning in style. That smile warms another forty lumens seeing her Great Aunt. "Auntie."

Erin, for her part, is dressed nice and conservative around her grandmother, even if the clothing is really expensive. She rises again and moves down to leave more room at the end of the longer seat, so everyone could be nearer Margaret. Hyacinth is given a warm smile, glad to see her cousin. "Good evening, I'm happy to see you all." Sharing the smile with the others, her eyes flickering over Alexander's clothing.

To what do we owe the pleasure?

There's a glance at Byron and the ever-stylish Hyacinth. She can feel Alexander's presence somewhere to the side and behind her, and while Isabella tries to be calm and relatively politic, a few minutes of watching the regal woman suggests, in the end, that little chance exists to actually rattle her cage.

"We were hoping you'd tell us more about William Gohl," Isabella begins. "I understand that your family was responsible for his apprehension and arrest a few decades ago. The murders in the city follow his modus operandi and whoever is committing those seems rather intimate with his methodologies. I figured if we knew more about him, how he was apprehended, and how he was ultimately stopped, we'd find some way to do the same with the person responsible doing all of this now."

Her lips quirk in a faint smile, but it is ultimately humorless, her eyes falling square towards the woman sitting across from them. "He seems to be targeting members of your family most of all, and while I would like to claim to be a Good Samaritan and say that I'm mostly motivated by saving other people's lives, I'm afraid I'm nothing so noble, because this is egregiously personal to me, Miss Addington. I'll do whatever it takes to help see to it that this ends. But I know very well that we can't do it without your assistance - at least, that's what certain interesting characters in City Hall say."

Alexander takes a tentative seat in one of the chairs gestured at so casually at, his gaze coming to settle with an unsettling directness on Thomas, then on Margaret. There is, perhaps, a flicker of sympathy in his eyes when Thomas' drink is simply taken away. Erin's look at his clothing makes him fidget restlessly with the sleeve cuffs of the outer shirt, but he doesn't look away from Thomas and Margaret. He takes a breath of the slightly too warm air, his shoulders rounded and almost hunched. He gives Isabella a sidelong look when she starts to talk, and his mouth twitches downward, but he doesn't contradict her version of their questions. Instead, his attention slips back to the two elder Addingtons, watching them with fixed intensity for their reaction.

As Byron wasn't part of the 'Ask Thomas Addington Some Questions' group, he's not entirely prepared to handle this one. He has a festival to pitch, sponsorship to ask for. He gives Hyacinth a somewhat apologetic look for the moment. But from what he can tell, the group that was assigned to may not be questioning Thomas Addington at all. Not with Margaret Addington seated right there. Still, he carries himself with an air of professional politeness. When offered a place to sit, he settles down into the nearest possible antique in the room. Yet, despite the unplanned for situation, he allows his posture to relax some, leaning back into his seat, his arms resting on fancy armrests.

Ah, then Isabella speaks openly, his eyes in quiet observance as she does so, before they drift in the direction of the elder Addingtons to witness their reactions. Especially, when Reede brings up the creatures who work at City Hall. Was a drink offered them? If not, Byron feels he could use one right about now. There's this look of support on his features, eyes back to Isabella.

Hyacinth goes to speak, and pauses. IT's a very quizzical look Isabella is given. Her red leather attache is set down and she slowly draws out the plans for what she came there to do. One might have to question if avenging the death of her father, aunt, cousins... is more or less important than the beautification enforcement for the city.

She's not even shy about the What the SHIT is this!? expression her eyes hold for a moment but looks to Byron, apparently picking up on the need and asks him, "Unbelievable." She waits. As it kills her to do, she waits. At least in case that goes south she's still got two items she already left in a memo. "Don't worry, Byron. We'll ask about the edifice renewal."

"What cost was that?" Isabella presses. She has not seated and it seems that she's willing to throw herself on the pyre to save Byron's ambitions, also. She doesn't even look at Hyacinth at her slackjawed expression. Margaret had asked for a question, and so she gives her one - quite probably the first in a list of many. "I doubt that'll be in the library, Miss Addington. Care to elaborate?"

Green-gold eyes slide to Thomas, when he looks like he's about to speak. "Or would your brother? Mister Addington?"

Alexander is Fidget Buddies with Thomas, although the two men probably share absolutely nothing else in their lives. Except maybe that look, which Alexander meets without hesitation. Alexander likes staring at things, and people. His gaze remains on the older man as he buts in, his voice low in volume, but firm. "William Gohl's remains were accidentally unearthed shortly before the murders began. It may be relevant to the question." His fingers tap tap tap on his knees.

Unlike Hyacinth, Erin doesn't look surprised at the questions given to her grandmother and uncle. She doesn't offer anything as of yet but she does give her uncle a long, concerned look. Somewhere, something went wrong with him. Crossing a leg over the other, she gives a look to Isabella, offering moral support and encouragement.

At this point, Byron isn't afraid to speak up, despite his portion of the plan being the rouse. "I'm afraid that if such information could be found at the library, we would have been sent there first." He chimes in, his tone matter-of-fact as he doesn't want to sound like they are teaming up against the Addington matriarch. "We were told to speak to Thomas Addington." He stops to consider this now, not knowing the Addington family tree beyond what was shown to him recently. "Unless there's another Thomas Addington..." Which, with people being named similarly, could be the case!

He then gives this look first to Isabella, then to Alexander, before he lifts his gaze to where Hyacinth is. She might know.

Alexander's tap-tap-tapping matches up with Thomas'. It's hard to say if he's doing it deliberately, or if it's just an unconscious sympathy with the other man. Either way, after Byron and Margaret speak, he straightens his shoulders. Hell, his reputation can't get worse, so he shifts his gaze to Margaret, and says, plainly, "We - I believe that William Gohl is responsible for the current murders," giving the rest a chance to distance themselves from the clearly crazy person, "and yes, I know Gohl is dead, Ms. Addington. It would be nice if he could be stopped again before more corpses pile up. If there are any family records from the time period, or at all, which can aid in that cause, I ask that you share them." A glance to Thomas. "Please."

Hyacinth looks to Byron, her head tilts. Finally Hyacinth says bluntly and more honest than she intends, "Look I really... have things to do to try and restore some of the damages that are hurting our family and not the least of which is the downtown starting to look like a hobo ski shanty. Byron's plan needs to really be looked over." She pauses and adds brisk enough to hide the actual amount of concern and fear in her tone, "And I don't want to die... and I'm angry at the jackass that killed my father so I can't yell at him for doing something stupid." She looks to her Great Aunt with iron conviction, "And if anything happens to you this town is going to just descend into chaos. I... have concerns. I admit." Fear and love manifesting as a superficial to-do list. Because feelings are hard.

Blissfully unaware of something everyone else is aware of, Erin remains quiet and listening. She's concerned of course, but her inputting anything at the moment is out of the question. There's a fine line between speaking your mind and staying in the good graces of Margaret Addington.

Byron is taken by surprise when Hyacinth brings up his proposal, even though he's sure that now is not the time. There's this lift of his brows to go with this look given her, conveying that 'Things are /really/ getting interesting now'. It's easy to see that Margaret is getting agitated by all of this, nevermind how Thomas is handling things. The man knows something. How do you get it out of him? After he idly licks at his lips, he shifts within his seat, leaning forward somewhat as he views Thomas, "Thomas Addington, how do we stop William Gohl? How was he stopped before? Yes, we know that the Addingtons put him down, but from what we've been told, Thomas Addington is the key." He's not sure how or why, but that was the name the Archivist had given him.

Speak plainly, Margaret Addington says, and Isabella takes that as a blessing. Her green eyes leave Margaret to fix on Thomas.

"He's back," she says quietly, softly, the bladed edge of the strain of it all returning to her voice. "Riding around in another body, going from location to location, killing without remorse. He can find you with a thought, and cut you with it and leave you to bleed. If you had spent the last fifty years trying to stop him, would you be able to tell us if he was capable of these things before? What have you been trying to do for the last half century?"

Alexander's eyes flick from one person to another, and he settles back in his chair, a little more comfortable now that they're talking about insane things. His shoulders straighten, and he follows Thomas' progress to the bar. "That cannot have been easy. For so long," he tells the man, quietly. "Would burying his remains help to put him back to sleep, do you think? What measures have been keeping him in check?" The questions are rapid fired, but then there's a pause, and he adds, softly, "You don't have to do it alone, Mr. Addington."

Hyacinth gets a bit flinty when asked what has she does for this town? What hasn't she done but give up her own path to keeping the dignity of the family on point and restore the town in its name. Instead of offended she draws into her most professional self. She looks to her Great Aunt for guidance on this one... or she might break glass in a litany of her resueme. For now there's discussion on what the others came for. Glorious. She, however, sits perfectly still.

There's many a question in Byron's mind right now, though with Thomas' ever growing frustration, he'll refrain from asking of them at this moment. It probably will come up at some point. The burying of Gohl's remains now comes up thanks to Alexander and Thorne's gaze drifts slowly in the other man's direction. What bones do they have left? Something Margaret now addresses!

"Mister Addington," He finally decides to say, his dark eyes flickering to the matriarch, "Ms. Addington, what can we do to help you?" He'll chime in to Alexander's telling the ma that he doesn't have to do this alone. "If anything. I'm not sure what caused this or who woke Gohl up, but before anyone else dies, let us help you." His words are genuine. There are people dying! His tenants as well. He then adds on, "If the only way that we can do this is to get those bones back," His lips purse, breathing in deeply through his nose, "We'll try to retrieve them. But if there's another way..."

While Erin can't feign the surprise, anyone who sees it has to be looking directly at her, as that flaring of her eyes is all she does to show it. Her eyes remain on Thomas and she does listen closely to what to do to try and stop the madness, but really, she doesn't find anything she can do to help. There's a show of moral support to Byron, Alexander and Isabella, the non-Addingtons in the room, but it's brief and only shows in the slight smile towards them.

"We actually still have about half the skeleton," Alexander says, quietly. Then shuts up quick when Thomas begins to rant. He stares at the man. For a long time. Then says, quietly, "His will. Mr. Addington. Has Gohl been...compelling you to some action?" This is quite calm, as if we're talking about something that is totally not murder by possession.

"If we knew everything, Mister Addington, we wouldn't be here," Isabella murmurs quietly. She draws a breath after that, closing her eyes, but whenever they open, she's managed to reclaim her calm. "We don't want anyone else to die," she continues, adding her voice to Byron and Alexander's. "That very much includes the two of you."

Green eyes return to Thomas. "What's it about, then, Mr. Addington? If not the bones? We want to help, we do, but we can't do that without knowing just how you've kept him silent all these years." Her attention moves to Erin. She doesn't want to see her lose any other relatives.

"Why does he hate you?" she says, glancing at Thomas, and then Margaret. "How did he try to destroy this town?"

Hyacinth swings a fingernail to Alexander noting, in a pause of having feelings, "That's... totes gross. So you know." Looking back to them she asks, "What in the sanity of this town is going on with bones and why has this piece of trash not been dealt with." To Isabella Hya blinks but her tone calms way the hell back as if sharing gossip with a good friend and directing her war elsewhere, "He's the one that like back in the 30's killed a picnic full of my poor ancestors who were minding their business and being fabulous leading this town to better places. He kinda totes fell apart about it all William H Macy style." That's WIlliam George Bonin, Hya... nevermind. Carry on girl.

Byron is almost grateful that it's not about those damn bones because, he honestly has no idea how they were going to try and finagle them back from the Archivist. Or the Collector. Or whoever!

Resettling himself back into his seat after the elderly man snaps out at him, he listens to Alexander's questions, having a feeling he knows where this is going. For now, he says nothing as he waits for Thomas' response to Clayton's question. He'll let his gaze roam, taking in the always outspoken Hyacinth, then drifting to the politely quiet Erin. She probably has the right idea!

Alexander gives Hyacinth a sidelong look. "They were clean." Because clearly THAT is what she thought was gross, not the whole idea of having a partial human specimen somewhere in his house. Where they are properly and respectfully stored, and definitely not in a canvas sack in the corner of a locked room. Nope. Margaret's words trigger a frown. "When you say sacrifice, you mean of Thomas. To stop him from being controlled to commit these murders." Again, there's no condemnation or outrage to the words, just making sure that he's on the same page as everyone else. "Could we leave that option on the table for a moment, and perhaps someone could explain to me how William was put to sleep in the first place, and how you, Thomas, kept him asleep? I'd like to find another solution, if one exists."

The silence from Erin is now a palpable thing as she looks between Alexander, Thomas and Margaret. The look of dread on her features is something she can no longer hold at bay. Her Uncle? Her Parents! Finally, she speaks for almost the first time, at least the first since the pleasantries. "And who freed him from the bones?" It's a quiet question, very controlled, very even.

"Why does it have to be you, Mister Addington?" Byron asks, though he's sure no one else would want to be in that position. "Why was it you and only you all this time? What I'm trying to say is, what is your link to William Gohl? I mean," He makes an idle gesture with his hand, elbow on the arm rest, "Is there a way to break this bond?" They are asking a lot of questions, but it does make him quietly wonder about the sacrifices that the Addingtons supposedly made over the years to protect the town.

Alexander studies the man in thoughtful silence. His gaze falls. "Some vigils are too long for anyone to endure without respite, Mr. Addington. I'm sorry." Although Byron's question does cause him to release a soft, considering noise. He looks down at his hands, turning them in his lap a few times. Takes a deep breath. There's another of those sideways looks, this time at Erin and her question. "Likely the entity that was looking for him. During the storm. That would be my best guess." So, the monsters get Alexander's vote. He closes his eyes as Margaret talks about the Baxters and their clear villainy. Then he says with some level of heavy resignation, "In some occult systems, the concept of sympathetic magic indicates that a symbol or stand in for the object of influence can be used. If the bones 'held' William Gohl before, could we supplement whatever hold half a skeleton would have over him with another level of sympathetic relationship? A living descendant, for example. Build another containment, somehow?"

The revelation hits her like a ton of bricks.

They'd be able to see it on her face and there's no hiding it, how expressive the shock is as Isabella's green-gold eyes grow wide and her face growing ashen, staring at Margaret at her words and then turning to Thomas. When Alexander spells it out clearly, her lips slowly press together, rendered silent.

Byron's words has her stepping towards her friend, dropping a quiet murmur in his ear.

Despite everything, he's still trying to do the right thing and she turns her eyes to the investigator's profile, something indecipherable within them.

Hyacinth arches an eyebrow to Alexander and says with casual ease, "Oh well that's perfectly alright then." It's impossible to tell agreement from chiding. When the terms of sacrifice comes around? Her eyes find Erin. Yeah, what about our parents??! She doesn't even scan the rest of the room but looks to the woman large and in charge, "Right." And her face is still but there are tears that escape and slide down her story expression. She looks to the head of the family, emotion flat in her voice falling on years of protocol. "Well I will assume then you already know of the other concern I was going to bring to you that came up." She really thinks about that one for a long time and nods accepting, at least for now, the past is done and the future needs to be assured.

"He hasn't struck again recently that I know of. Not since.." Erin's gaze skitters over Isabella. One had a lot in common with after losing their parents. Though the mention of the hospital and that whole night brings a shudder. "I heard the calls for Billy that night and I felt the utter hate from him towards me. I didn't know what it meant then." Now, she avoids looking at Thomas, very deliberately.

Alexander nods to Hyacinth, glad she agrees about the non-grossness of having CLEAN human bones rattling around in your house. Sarcasm is not his strong suit. His attention remains on Thomas. "That sounds like there might be a way, but you don't think it would work. Killing you can always happen, but--" If there is one thing that Alexander doesn't particularly like, it is being mocked. And the clear contempt in Margaret Addington's voice when he is trying to help and be useful just seems to flip a switch in him. He rises to his feet with a jerky movement, glaring at the old woman in a way that suggests that he very well might add 'assault of the elderly' to his rap sheet. His voice is rapid - sharp not loud, but filled with sudden rage, "Your loved ones died because you and the Addingtons have always held your secrets too fucking close to the chest, lying and covering up everything that might actually be USEFUL about this horrible town and it's horrible history. Maybe, just MAYBE, you could let us try and help rather than just deciding that fratricide is the only possible solution to your problem and no others need apply!"

Alexander maybe isn't a greatly diplomatic person.

This anger towards the Baxters does make things a wee bit uncomfortable in this room full of Addingtons and Baxter types. Or is that just Gohl? Either way Byron doesn't like the way that Margaret talks about the monsters, so he falls quiet once more. However, when the Carr family is mentioned, his brow quirks, eyes now looking to Isabella. Why would he be killing...

There's deep furrowing of his brow, his eyes darkened in thought. "Why did," He starts to ask. He doesn't want to out anyone, so this question is difficult. "Why the Carr family? Why the Hendersons?"

And then all of his inquiries are cut off just like that when Alexander rises to speak his mind. "I wasn't expecting that.." He murmurs to himself, looking only half-amused by this. And half-expecting them to be kicked out right about now.

Erin rises to her feet about to get all sorts of indignant for Alexander taking that tone with her grandmother. Her elderly grandmother. Just about the time the righteous indignation is going to be delivered harshly, her relatives laugh. They laugh. Abruptly, she has a seat and just waits. The point of everything would come. Eventually.

Hyacinth reaches into her bag and glances to the room. This is, apparently, something she's perhaps willing or not willing to discuss with an audience. Slowly standing, and walking with the resonance of her particularly unique tik-tak cadence as she crosses the floor. Glittery, sterling manicure flips to page eight. There's a helpful little arrow highlighting the item on that page of her father's last will and testament which she was given her notarized copy for review of. "Since my father failed in life to do right by you, I and this family I thought to see you were...informed."

Turning quietly to Alexander. She pauses and turns kitchen to make herself some distance from the yelling and the hysteria.

What Alexander is suggesting winds those unforgiving coils of tension back on Isabella's frame, stiff and upright because her pride won't allow her to do anything else, but what is in her eyes is utter terror - at what he is implying, with the additional weight of Margaret's mention of the monsters in the dark. Her throat constricts at the back, like something hooked and barbed and it's only when Erin meets her eyes from across the room that she makes a concentrated effort to fight it down. She gives her an acknowledging nod, expression tight.

When he loses it though, she takes several steps forward, because she's not about to let him assault an old lady on top of everything, because now they're laughing, but she doesn't touch him. "Alexander," she murmurs. "Don't. It won't help."

Turning to the laughing Addingtons, she watches them both, and whenever they finally stop laughing, she speaks up. "When?" she asks. "If you're right, if there's no other way other than doing what you must, when do you intend to do this? And if you do....would you allow us to back you up?"

She pauses, and continues. "You said he's getting stronger. You said he's winning. You said only you can stop him, but he probably knows that also. If you're decided on this course of action, will you allow us to be there in case he tries to do anything to interfere with the attempt?"

In so far as Alexander thought about the consequences of his actions at all (spoiler: he didn't), he might have theorized being kicked out, or even having the cops called, or at least a withering rebuttal. Laughter was not remotely on the list of possible consequences that he didn't think too much about before going off on his rant. It's not even outrageous. Just confusing.

Then, as Isabella speaks quietly, it's not. He sits back down, face blank. "You're not siblings." It's toneless.

Good. They weren't about to be kicked out. Not just yet. The abrupt laughter, while it should set one's mind at ease, only brings a lift to Byron's dark brow. That amused smile lingers, however. Hey, if they find it funny, then he's not going to rain on their parade. He remains seated, for the most part, posture relaxed.

Isabella seems to be guiding them back on track, however, taking the lead once more. But it is Alexander's question that has his attention pulled fully towards the elderly Addington pair, just as Hyacinth moves forward to deliver those documents. He already knows what's written there.

Hyacinth pauses and might be the only serious face in the room not charged up with emotion but instead entirely removed from it. No wonder she keeps the company she does. She looks her Great-Aunt in the eye in return and says calmly, "Absolutely not. It does need to be discussed. I've been cataloging the failings of others. I'm working on mitigating that damage by not repeating it." Taking a deep breath she shakes her head, "So this require trying a Baxter to a spit or something, because I'm still using mine." Frankness. The charade's left her exhausted. "Jsut... what do we need to do so we can go back to fixing this city without having to worry about what to wear in case some ghost decides to try and stab us that day."

Alexander does not immediately go off on another rant about the facility and its purpose, although the muscles in him tighten with the effort of not. His lips press hard together, and obviously no effort is made to hide his extreme disapproval of this solution. But he doesn't start cursing or throwing chairs, so...yay. Instead, his eyes flick to Thomas. "You consent to this placement? Willingly? And have no interest in other potential solutions to the problem?" He twitches, slightly, at Hyacinth's contribution.

As merry as their laughter may have seemed, once the Facility is brought up, that jovial enough smile fades from Byron's features completely. He's heard about that place. "This is the only way to keep you from committing Gohl's acts?" Even he knows it's rather harsh. "To have you institutionalized in that place? That way, Gohl won't be able to use you as a tool anymore?" He then comes out and asks, "Can William Gohl possess, control," He shakes his head, shoulders lifting, "Anyone else? Will he try once Thomas Addington is sent to the Facility?"

Hyacinth's words do not cause him to flinch. As far as he knows, he has no Baxter blood! Yet, his eyes look to Isabella again.

Alexander sighs. He rubs at his face, briefly. "If that will stop the murders, and Mr. Addington does not desire any other resolution, then I don't see that I, at least, have any further business here." He stares at Thomas' haunted eyes. "Sorry." It's curt. He glances at Margaret. "For disturbing your evening."

There's a look of confusion there as Isabella focuses her stare on Margaret, followed by a sigh and a quiet pinch of her thumb and index against her nosebridge, because that was definitely not what she meant.

A glance at the rest, lips parting to say something, but Alexander ends the meeting and frustration tightens the lines of her face. "Thank you for seeing us," she manages to say, and she waits for the rest, before heading out with them, but not without another glance at Erin.

Hyacinth is placated mildly when she picks up that the woman at least knew. That may have made the situation less desirable. Oh, she's fighting to stay collected and she is winning. She says to Thomas, "No olive." She's getting something out of this evening. Wherever her imperious brimstone went off to it's been quashed. It's Erin frowning and shaking her head. Looking to the woman in control of, apparently, the clutches that contain their collective well being she says, more tired than she intends, but in manner that pretends the entire discussion never happened as if to make a point, "Can we meet this week to talk about Byron's proposal for City Hall so it can be pushed through with everything necessary considered?"

They leave now when martinis may be had? Either way, Byron finally rises to stand, leaning forward in his chair to pull himself up to his feet. This. This branch of the Addington family was part of his bloodline. And yet he had no connection to them at all, though he must say that they have remarkably expensive tastes. "Thank you." He pauses by the door to turn and say to Thomas Addington. He most likely means 'Thank you for your sacrifice'. He's about to take a step forward, but adds in, "If there's anything that we can help you with, you have my number." Out of the lot of them, he's sure the Addington's has his at the very least. He's done business with them before.

"Enjoy the rest of your evening." There's this little grin that he flashes over at Hyacinth when she continues to push for his cause, "I'll make sure to schedule another appointment."

Alexander rises when the others do, without another word. He's not great at the niceties, and just follows the rest out with his shoulders hunched and his hands squeezing and relaxing.

Rising when the others do, she smiles to her grandmother. "I will see myself out also and get back to the apartment." Erin knows they will sleep soon. Soon after they finish their show. And that heat was almost unbearable. "I will see you tomorrow." A kiss to the older woman's cheek, then one to Thomas', along with a concerned look to him, not envying him at all. She walks over to the others to depart with them. She had questions!