2019-08-20 - Sins of Their Forebears

On the somewhat short drive from the Addington family estate to Bayside Apartments, Byron has mostly been lost in thought. He's sure that the others had a lot of questions. A lot to talk about. He probably did too, but his mind settled on other things as his car drove down the long dark road that evening.

He'd invited everyone to his place for drinks and to talk about everything that they'd learned. So once everyone is ushered inside, all of the security hoops jumped through, as they were in his company, he's already at the bar preparing drinks for they were talks of martinis at the Addingtons, something which was not delivered. "If no one objects, I'm making us some martinis. I feel like we were being teased tonight." He then gestures to his expansive living space.. for an apartment, "Make yourselves at home."

Alexander is silent. Seething most of the way to Byron's penthouse, but at least doing it quietly. Except for the ticky-tack of his fingers on his phone, sending some texts. Whatever replies he gets doesn't seem to improve his temper at all, and he shoves his phone back into his pocket. Once in the penthouse, he paces around the expansive living space, still clearly on the edge of another temper tantrum. But he doesn't turn down martinis. Or seem to notice that it was offered.

"We were."

The opinion is decisive and conclusory, as typical of Isabella Reede, who never shrinks away when it's time to be frank...or kick the doors down and storm in. Basically her entire approach the entire evening, to get the ball rolling down the fucked up hill they've all managed to find themselves on. Restless and tense, she's shed her jacket to drape it on the back of a couch, though she doesn't pace. She rests her fingers against the backrest.

"I told you that if we forced it that we'd have to be prepared for the possibility that they'll tell us something, but not everything. They handily sideskipped a few queries which would clear some of this up. Like Byron's question, about just what the Ghoul's connection is to Thomas that he can apparently take over his body and murder a bunch of people." Including her mother, and his own kin - Erin's parents and Hyacinth's relatives. "I suspect it might have something to do with the fact that he might not be Margaret's brother. They could be laughing at the idea of fratricide, but they could also be laughing at the idea of killing him. It's hard to say, but if he's not an Addington at all, that might explain a few things."

She chews on her bottom lip. "Second of all, the rant before he managed to compose himself. He said it wasn't about the bones. If it wasn't about the bones, what was it about?"

Hyacinth sent two texts. They were short and that is it. Being she's married to her work it's hardly a surprise in some instances. She's sat saying nothing. It's when she finally speaks she says, "He killed Erin's parents. that man killed my father. Our aunt- who BY the way is an entirely pleasant and delightful woman even if she failed to contribute to teh upward climb of this family." She looke to Byron, her face sill but her eyes uncharastically wet. "I will not be surprised if I wake up in two days and it's my mother for failing to stop my father from being an idiot or my sister." She has a sister?!

Her own mind just wanted to close down while a hundred thousand questions kept racing through it at the same time. Erin drove over fine, but now that she's here and settled in, she looks shaken. Truly shaken. "Tequila." Erin corrects, just wanting a strong, strong drink. Her phone chimes an incoming text and she hastily taps out a response, but she doesn't waste time in hearing out what people are saying.

Byron already has a few glasses out for martinis, but once Erin calls out for tequila, who is he to tell her no? "Anyone else for tequila?" He'll still with the martini. He has olives set out and everything. "Do you really think that Thomas Addington isn't an Addington at all?" For this, he turns back to Hyacinth. While she may know which part his family plays in her family tree, to be honest, he's not sure on where the branches lead. Look, he's not that invested in the Addington family, okay?

The sound of the martinis being stirred can be heard with the quiet tapping against the glass.

"While we thought that they were thinking of having Thomas Addington murdered to stop this, institutionalizing him also works? Now, I'm confused by this part myself, if he's at the Facility, he'll be closer to where Billy Gohl died, thus be able to keep him from murdering? OR," There's emphasis, "Is it to keep Gohl from possessing him? I was confused when they'd mention about the remaining Baxters trying to free him this time. How? The bones are all out. If Thomas Addington puts Billy back to sleep from within the Facility, they are afraid that someone else will wake Gohl up again?"

"William Gohl killed people," Alexander says, his voice brittle. "He just used Thomas to do it. Which isn't to say that he might not be a terrible person in his own right. But let's not blame the blade for the hand that guides it." He moves to glare out over that lovely view. "So. Try to find another solution? Or just let the man be sent to the asylum. History suggests it WILL solve the problem as long as his remains aren't removed from the grounds. The facility is in the Veil. It's designed, as far as we can tell, as far as we can guess, to confine people with abilities. Which means it's unlikely that Gohl would be able to make Thomas kill from there." He takes a breath. "I'm inclined to just let him. You can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved. But we don't know their timeline, which means he might kill again."

It has been a while since she's had a martini.

Isabella is a scotch gal - it has always been her drink of choice, but never say that she isn't willing to indulge in some variety. "He killed my mother, also," she murmurs to Hyacinth. "Among the three of us, he has crimes to answer for. If they knew about him all this time, that he was responsible, then why wait until now to do something about it? Margaret talked about sacrifice, talked about protecting the town, that it was a family responsibility. But why wait until five people are killed before confining him the way they suggested? If they knew, why didn't they take steps once the first victim was found, or the second. Why didn't they lock him up before members of their own family were slaughtered?"

There's a glance at Alexander as she takes the glass Byron hands her, whenever he gets to her, concern softening her tense, but tired face. "I'm not opposed to locking him up and subjecting him to whatever fate is waiting for him there, but if he's becoming stronger as Thomas suggests, what makes us think he'll even make it there? That's why I wanted to offer us as a group to back them up on whatever course of action they choose to follow. Not..." She makes a face. "To witness anything grisly."

Hyacinth holds up two fingers and wiggles them. Fill those glasses, B. Tonight's a drinking night. The partial fabricated Addington stands still and looks up "Lemme borrow your ceiling and show you what I believe I'm aware of, or at least where this is concerned." She looks up and the shadows from teh lamps move and a mural forms across Byron's ceiling that maps out as much of the family tree as she's cemented into place and the footnotes on where they lived and which properties shehas found to the best of her ability in any case the Addington family. Lifting a finger she adds more lines laterally off her father's entry and adds mental ?? there and adds, oh fun, a third sibling? "IF... he is not that's a rather good trick. Then that would also mean I'm not. And as my father was one of them... well there you go." Still it's an excellent question. there is a fury there and tears well up. "He's aken so much from me and now... I really can't help but wonder if he tried to kill me too when I got pushed." She laughs, without myrth to Erin taking her glass. "That bastard was the one watching me at the sawmill when I was six and I ended up short my leg." Yeah. Enjoy that one. "I saw things there. It's his but... I wonder if there's more there we don't know."

Erin puts her phone away after texting a Geoff, if anyone happened to be looking, that she was alive and well and would talk to him soon. The phone out of sight and mind, she watches Hyacinth and flinches at the very idea that she could have been an intended target. Then at Isabella who had lost her parent as well. The family tree draws her attention and she reads it a couple of times before dropping dark eyes on Byron. "An Addington. I might have known.. except I didn't. Is that the secret you held so near and dear at the houseboat? For it to be not so near and dear now?" Taking the tequila she holds it tighter than she should before downing the contents. "Where's the fireplace, I want to break your things now." Her lips twist wryly. "Not really, but I feel like I want to blame someone. I want to be so angry at someone. Who freed him from the bones? Who is causing my poor old uncle into a home in the veil? Who did this?!"

Byron does, indeed, bring all the drinks over on a tray. There's quite a bit of these glasses to carry. With all of the martinis passed around and Erin's tequila, he pauses near Alexander, though from what he recalled, the man wasn't much of a drinker. The offer still stands.

During his drink delivery, he pauses to stare up at the ceiling to view the Addington family up there. Yep, there's the Thorne's. Right above Margaret Addington and her brood. Hearing Erin's words, his brow arches, "A secret? From what Hyacinth had told me everyone should've known. Well, if they know town and or family history." His shoulders lift into a shrug. Yeah, he only learned about it thanks to Alexander recently. "I didn't think it was of any importance to have brought up. The Addingtons have never been a part of my family for my entire life. That was in the past. Generations ago. And I'm sure it's nothing to bother your grandmother about." And boy did the Thornes need that support back in the day. Byron's only recently found his wealth.

"I don't know who woke up Billy Gohl. All I know is who brought his bones back to our world."

Alexander stares at the glass on the tray. He picks it up with a soft, "Thank you." But he doesn't seem to drink it immediately. Instead, he studies Hyacinth's information with thin lips, even the demonstration of power not breaking his ill-temper. "I'm not sure it's relevant, aside from an academic interest. The biggest issue right now, to my mind, is that we can either step away from this and let the Addingtons-" a pause, glance to Erin and Hyacinth, "-the elder Addingtons deal with things as they like. Or we can interfere. Choose that first. The next will follow based on that decision." His voice is curt; he's still clearly angry, although at least it doesn't seem to be directed at anyone here. "If we choose option one, our only priority should be protecting any potential victims until Thomas is put away. Which means getting them out of town or somewhere Thomas can't find them."

Hyacinth is so not used to feelings beyond anger and organizing things. It's really uncharted territory here as she stares at the ceiling. Fingers press flat to her cheeks, her face flush with colour she will deny being there later. The tequilla is very well received.

She looks over to the man giving the options, "You were very brave, Alexander. I...appreciate that. a dn I thin your answer is what if grabdfather is he only one he can possess? Putting him away in the unhappy home in teh Veil would certainly complicate that."

"He is suffering. He no more wants to go than any of us do and it's not his fault he's burdened with this. I'm just so angry though. It's senseless! Someone did this. Someone is at the bottom of it. They started it back up again and they are fully to blame. Maybe they should be the one who takes his place in the institution." Erin seems very unforgiving in this moment, though she just learned so much that is hard to take.

"I vote for meddling."

Unsurprising, from Isabella, who takes a swallow of her martini and hitches hip and leg over the couch - not quite sitting on it, but against the armrest where a foot plants solidly on the floor.

"I have too many questions to let it lie." An apologetic glance to the Addingtons there and there's a pause as she looks at the ceiling and the images grafted there, recognizing the skill of one's investment into the Talent to produce such profound effects. She had spent over half her life bonded completely with a savant, she knows it when she sees it, the hours of discovery and effort and natural ability to hone it to that level. "I just don't know how. Not yet. Or at least ensure that Thomas actually does get locked up. And I'm sorry, Erin, Hyacinth, but I just don't trust them. I'm certain they believe that this is the only way to deal with the problem but I'm not wholly convinced that's all there is to it. They won't talk to us, though..." Her eyes fall on Erin. "But your grandmother or great-uncle might talk to you, now that we've rolled this mess out in your hearing. Would you be willing to ask her what all of this is about, if not about the bones?"

To Hyacinth, she pauses. "Your family's saw mill business is practically impregnable to outsiders," she tells her - suggestive that she's done some research, at least recently. "You said you saw things there?"

Setting the tray aside, then moving to reach for his martini, Byron returns to join the others. Yes, the image of the family tree had impressed him. At first, he'd thought she brought some device to do the projecting, but then he realized otherwise. It's not something that he brings up nor draws much attention to. He just sips at his drink.

In his mind, he had no real stake in any of this. However, those gathered? They were all blood related to someone or other. One of the tainted bloodlines! "I wonder if by the use of the bones, putting Gohl to be would be easier. But then again, he did snap at me about it, once I said we would try to retrieve those bones back." Finally, he takes a comfortable seat on his leather couch. "It's hard to say what significance they played to begin with. Except once they were out in our world, people started dying..." A pause, "But some of this happened before. Who is the voice calling out for Billy? Is that who we are looking for? Is that who is to blame?"

Alexander dismisses Hyacinth's compliment with a wave of his hand. "No. I don't actually have any concern that the Adding--that Margaret and Thomas' proposed solution will not solve the problem. I think it would. My question is simply if that is the solution that we want. The asylum is a place where he will likely be tortured, his agony used to feed the darkness. It's possible that the asylum's 'work' on William Gohl is what gave him the ability to BE a murderous ghost in the first place. So there may be repercussions in the future - but it's likely to be years. If we're okay with that, then we walk away and protect our own. If we're not," a brief gesture of his glass towards Isabella, "then we meddle. But we're on a deadline of uncertain length. And I'm not actually certain what we can do. Getting more information from Margaret and Thomas would be good, but we clearly can't count on it." His mouth twists. "And they are irritating." He takes a sip of the martini, as if to wash the taste out of his mouth. A glance at Byron. "I doubt the bones can be retrieved. They don't seem like people over there to negate a deal. But," a frown, "maybe there is a way to build some other containment. Half a skeleton, maybe something with my blood, flesh. Something. I'll ask around. If we care enough."

He looks like he's still not sure he does.

Hyacinth doesn't miss the omissions. She doesn't address them, but she certainly doesn't omit them. With a macabre curiosity she darkens the names of those no longer at risk really of further fuckery. She says it. "We can take away his means but that... is a path one can't get too comfortable on and we turn into him." She just kills...her glass of tequilla and holds the back of her hand to her mouth for a moment. Yup. We are good! And this is why she asked for two and she starts in on that as well. "We really need to figure out why/"

Hyacinth pauses and nods finally addressing the sawmill. "That's here I went through when I was six. There were... things there. I couldn't tell you if I was pushed or pulled or put there." There's a derisive snort, "I had to crawl past the saw to get out. That didn't come cheap." Whichexplains a lot about her bisected leg and that bad ass prostetic array she parades through life.

Mention of using bones and Alexander's blood and flesh has Isabella's expression tightening immediately, turning her eyes at his direction. Her temper flares, almost snaps out like a whip, white-hot filaments of sensation creeping along the sides of her throat to ignite both sides of her face. Because while it is terribly noble, it is also ridiculously hypocritical and she isn't sure where her inclinations are swinging. Finally, when she speaks, it's even and calm in spite of the dark visions in her head of the investigator being...

...no, she can't. "I think we should consider obtaining more information first if we can, before we use any of your...materials...to circumvent anything," she says, her voice low in an effort to mask everything she doesn't say.

Hyacinth's words give her pause, and a glance at her leg. "Things," she repeats, hollowly. This is the second time tonight that the monsters have been alluded to. But after another swallow of her martini, her eyes find Erin again. "I agree that we need to find out why. I also think we need to know when. When this trip 'upstate' is happening. Because I'm not going to lie, at the rate things are going, I feel like the risk of something going wrong is probably up here." She gestures with a hand.

Erin knew the story but it doesn't make it any easier to hear again. Her eyes drop to the prosthetic then back to her cousin and some of the anger fades. She actually slumps in her chair, something posture perfect Erin never does. "Mind if I get another shot.. cousin?" The words directed to Byron, unable to keep that cousin thing out of the equation. "I can get it myself, just want to make sure you don't mind." Her eyes drop to Hyacinth's glass. "Would you like another also?"

With a look to Alexander, she shakes her head. "I am not okay with any of this. I have no desire to see my uncle tortured. Or to even know it's happening even if I never see it." A more solemn nod to Isabella. "I will try asking. You give me a list of questions and I will ask them."

Byron is still nursing his drink, but he's not surprised when some of the others are already done with their own. The tequila drinkers! He was just getting himself comfortable too, but he rises, after setting his own glass down on the coffee table to collect their glasses and return to the bar. Just hearing them say the word 'cousin' is odd to him. They were Addingtons, first of all and aside from Hyacinth, he's not even sure how deep his own family roots dig into Erin's side of the family. If it even did.

"I'll get them. Don't worry about it." From his place pouring drinks, he continues the conversation with his back to the others, "So what exactly is the plan? Getting more information out of Margaret and Thomas Addington?" He's already heard from Erin's corner that she doesn't want her uncle typed tortured. "Vivian may be taking a trip to the Facility with some others." He doesn't look at Alexander when he says this, "If Thomas Addington were already institutionalized, they would have been able to check in on him. Not that they'd probably be able to get him out."

Alexander actually turns to regard Hyacinth, quietly. Sorrow breaking through for a moment in his general irritation at the world. "You got lost. I'm sorry. You were brave, to be able to escape. Especially so young." He takes another drink of the martini, then; his irritation is swift to return. It makes him grumpy and snappish. "Obviously, Isabella. I'm not proposing I randomly bleed on the damn bones and hope to whistle up a ghost. Transferring the possession from Thomas to myself would benefit no one. Make things worse, even. I'll reach out to some of my more...occult savvy contacts, and see if anyone knows anything useful."

He finishes off the rest of the martini, stalks over to put the glass away somewhere appropriate. "So, I hear at least two votes," a nod to Isabella and Erin, "for meddling. And Erin, if you could find a way to make it clear to Thomas, privately, that if he wants help, it would be nice of him to share how we might. He knows more than he's willing to tell us, at least in Margaret's presence. Make it clear that even if it's a small chance, nothing is stopping him from getting tossed in the asylum if we fail. Thorne? Hyacinth? Even if we do decide to meddle, there's nothing that says you have to be involved in it. Particularly you," a nod to Byron. "If you wanted to try and regain some sort of approximation of sane life, now might be a good time to bow out."

The mention of the upcoming trip draws a grimace. "We don't know if the timing would work out. But if it does, it might offer other opportunities. We can't bring him back to this side without having a solution for the William problem. But we could at least offer him peace, if he wants it." Peace is such a nice euphemism for killing the guy.

Hyacinth finishes that second and makes her cheeks dry withthe sides of her thumbs. "God, Erin yes." She looks to Byron and back, "I both would love to have another and also to watch him run about doing things for us." The slight bit of humor in that enough to rally fringe feelings. "FIrst fucking question, Erin. Ask my grandfather if he intended to let that happen to me." Yeah, she really wants that answer, but who wouldn't." "And also, on this... bones thing. It wasn't Vyv that brough tthem back wasy it? Pleasepleaseplease tell me my bestie sugar lumpkins did not suddenly lose his fucking mind." There's that smile. The I want something give it to me smile. "Like for reasls I'm super curious."

Alexander's reassurance, as snappish as it sounds, mollifies her somewhat. Isabella rises from the couch then, moving away from the group after draining her martini and setting it where it belongs - on the bar, possibly for a refill. But she's not drinking another drop until she provides Erin with a list of questions to ask Thomas. She finds her satchel to dig into it, producing a small notepad and pen, and proceeds to start writing into it, her back to the others.

Once she's done scribbling, she tears it off the pad and folds it neatly, then reaches over to hand it to Erin.

She pauses, though, when she's by her, and after drawing out a slow breath, she reaches out and curls her fingers around her shoulder, if she allows, and delivers a warm squeeze. "I'm sorry, by the way," she murmurs ruefully. "Charging verbally at your grandmother the way I did. I figured she'd be the sort who wouldn't be rattled so easily, regardless."

After having refilled both glasses with tequila, Byron reaches for a couple of more to fill up. This could be thirds for the pair of Addingtons women or if others wanted a shot of tequila of their own. The corner of his lips lift into a smirk at Hyacinth's comment, "Next time, we're doing this at your place." It's not that Byron minds playing host. He was rather proud of his penthouse apartment at one point, but it's just another space to him now. "I'm all for meddling if that's what you do. I've no ideas of my owns. Just unanswered questions from today. I don't blame them, of course. With everything that we came in to ask them."

He sets the tray of tequila shots on the coffee table for anyone to reach out for. In fact, the entire bottle of tequila is on that tray with them! "Regain some sort of approximation of..." Thorne can't help but openly laugh at that. "Without this, I have doubts that my life in Gray Harbor will be anything that you just said." Going back for this own drink, he says just before taking another sip, "Things really seem to be amping up. I've lived here all through my childhood, then again for three years on my return. Things haven't been... anywhere near to this hectic. Dangerous."

Erin watches Byron for a moment as he makes the refills but she settles down more comfortable instead of offering to help now. "Thank you," she murmurs the words to her cousin. Once an Addington, always a cousin. Or something. Alexander gets a nod as well, "I will try and get him alone at some point and let him know. Or have the maid slip him a note. I really want to know what he wants also." Then there's Hyacinth and she nods, so very solemnly. "I will make sure to ask him that personally, so I can see his expression when I do." She speaks softly to her cousin. Then of course there's Isabella and she reaches out to touch her arm briefly. "You have no reason to apologize. You lost your parent, we all three lost someone we love due to this. Any one of us could be next. I don't understand why they waited this long."

After a moment she looks to them. "I will ask everything and anything you ask of me. All I ask in return is you limit the people you share all of this information with. This is my family and some won't understand and after all is said and done.. we still have to live in this town. To have the stigma of Thomas losing his mind and killing his own family and those of the Baxter's when it is hardly his fault, would be a terribly unfortunate for all of us."

Once he's resettled, Byron looks to poor Hyacinth. "Possibly, but I'm not sure if it was his idea or Rebecca Carr's." Another sip is taken from his glass, "And I'm not really sure if the bones being brought over matters all that much. Someone was looking for them and was willing to kill for them. Or that's what I figured happened at the hospital. Unless that was Gohl too." Who the hell knows!

Now would probably be a great time for Alexander to follow Isabella's excellent example and apologize for his outburst in the meeting. He doesn't. He does study Byron for a long moment, frowning. Then nods. "Things do seem to be escalating. I don't know why. But fine. Just," a pause, "I just thought that the option should be offered."

With that, Alexander makes a face, and says, "I should get going." He grimaces at Erin, looks like he's about to say something, then his mouth snaps shut, and he shakes his head. "I should really go." That sounds like it's more to himself. "Thank you all for allowing me to join you. I'll let you know if I hear anything useful."

Hyacinth offers an honest and not even remotely judgy smile to Erin. See? it's possible for her to be a human. "I really appreciate that." Her eyebrow arches and a smirk of bemusement comes to her, "Oh we can absolutely have the next one at my place. But you are still serving drinks." She could be toying with him. Taking a deep rbeath she murmurs, "I am really tired of this Baxter bullshit. I meant it. I'm not firing my assistant. It's too hard to find one that can actually keep up." She pasuses and looks to Erin, "I'm going through the upstairs when I get into the office tomorrow. Therecould be something up there."

"I'd also like to know why they waited this long," Isabella mutters, stormclouds gathering in her features as she looks down at Erin. "But yes, please let us know if he tells you anything else."

With Alexander taking his leave, she nods in his direction, "Be careful," she murmurs to him, before she moves to get another refill on that martini. She needs another one before thinking of going back home and faceplanting on the bed.