2019-08-22 - Bayside Apartment's Newest Victim

Despite some of the recent events surrounding the Bayside Apartments, the apartments themselves are often quiet, as can be seen from the lobby. Of course, as it's summer and many a summer family have arrived for the bayside views and good weather, there happen to be more children around than usual.

Having an appointment set for that afternoon, Byron Thorne is in professional dress, donning his very familiar suit and tie look in dark gray. His posture is erect and straight, but he's making idle conversation with the receptionist in the lobby. Often the tenants don't normally come through this way, taking the elevator straight to their floor. But for visitors, this is who they are greeted by. When he spots who he'll assume is his guest for the day, he steps forward with a friendly smile and an outstretched hand, "You must be Mister Taylor? Welcome to the Bayside Apartments."

Dante is also be-suited as he strides up to Byron. But his is rather a more summery look, with an off-white pair of pants, a shirt in the same shade and a blue cotton blazer with a pair of pocket squares in pale blue and white. A brown leather belt matches the boat shoes. He's sockless, with ankle-skimming pants. It's rather a more big-city look, but it also seems hard to imagine him in anything more casual.

He walks across the lobby with long-legged stride. "Ah, Mister Thorne, I presume. Yes, thank you. This is quite the place you have here." His handshake is firm and polite.

"You would be correct." Byron says in a light tone to go with his smile. "Thank you for being so prompt with sending over your information. When I first received your mail, I knew your name looked familiar. Then I realized that I've read a few of your novels. I quite enjoy your writing. That said," his gaze idly drift off to follow along one of the other newly arrived guests who the receptionist is now tending to, "I would ask what brings you to Gray Harbor, but as I've tried enticing other writers or writers-to-be to our quaint little town, I have a few guesses in mind."

"Ah, cheers," says Dante with a wide smile. "I've been rather a bit surprised my work has made it this far west, but my publisher does have a good distributor and I do try to be easy to read." He looks around and takes in the lobby and looks back to Byron. "You've tried enticing other writers? Might I ask for what purpose? And yes, I have a series of nonfiction books as well and I'm here researching whether there's enough in this town and the surrounding areas for another volume. Though I will say that people are rather more reluctant to tell me their local legends than other places I've visited."

Byron isn't going to lie, finding the truth far more entertaining, "Many of my professional clients and investors have a side interest in writing. Usually suspense or detective novels. And here I am with an apartment complex situated across from this beautiful bay. And several vacancies that could be filled." That's the part he's not ashamed to say, "While not many know that Gray Harbor even exists, I sometimes invite them down to take a look. Some, of course, would only be interested in the town for the lovely summers. As we're having now. Others, for inspiration on their writing, might not mind the dark skies and the rain." A pause, "This is a quiet little town by the bay, I've found that something about towns such as Gray Harbor inspire people to write. It's a perfect setting for many a genre, I'd think."

He then asks, "I hope that you didn't have any trouble with parking? As you may have already read, we have several amenities on this property. A pool, for one. A gym. A nice courtyard for barbecues and even an underused tennis court." He gestures absently, "I can show you around if you like, or I can show you to the apartment that I thought you may be interested in."

"Ah, so I see. You are an enterprising man, and more attention, and more people in this town - especially those of means, would only help your business. Have you considered holding a festival, or a series of workshops? Something for that set to have a bit of a retreat and indulge their writing interests? I've attended a fair good many of those myself, over the years. I could recommend some people who are experienced at running such things." Dante stands, with one hand tucked neatly into his pants pockets. When Byron mentions showing the facilities, he motions with his hand and says, "By all means. And no, no trouble with the parking. A bit of trouble with the driving. I'm a bit rubbish at it and generally try to avoid it."

Thorne's face lights up when Taylor mentions holding a festival or workshops. "Funny that you would bring that up." He'll start, but quickly adds, "Let me show you around and we can discuss a project that I'm working on currently." With that said, he begins to lead the way down a long hallway, away from the elevators.

"City Hall approved my proposal for a mid autumn festival. Most likely to be held around Halloween. It will be a weekend long event that will encompass the entire town, which is why I've been contacting all of our local businesses for both their sponsorship and cooperation to help make this work." He moves at a business pace, neither casually and slow nor brisk, but his gait has a purpose. "The theme for this will be Gray Harbor's version of a Masquerade, being inspired by the Carnival of Venice." He turns to Dante, "The cooperation, as you might realize, would be for everyone to help with the masquerade and turning the town into this mysterious, fantastical place. An illusion, as you will. Then again, as I'm hoping that this gets picked up to be a yearly event, I'm helping with the town's beautification committee. Why dress the town up for one weekend a year, when you can ensure it's beauty year round." Then come to a stop before a large pair of doors. "This is the pool." He announces, before leading his guest inside.

Dante also tends to walk with purpose, especially in the company of someone who is doing the same. "I've been to Venice during Carnival. Unfortunately it's become something of a tourist trap, but still something worth taking in at least once in one's lifetime. And I get your sense. Something with the theme of Halloween without the usual plastic pumpkins and pointy witch hats. Something with a bit more elegance and a bit less kitsch, yes?" Dante inclines his head. "And yes, it always makes sense to eek in a bit of money from the city planning budget to fix over the town a bit at a time. I lived in my ex's hometown in New England for a few years. They did something similar."

He follows into the pool area and takes it in. "Can't say I've ever lived anywhere with a pool. But, they're rather rare in Central London, space being at a premium as it is."

Reaching out to swing open both large doors in a dramatic fashion, when he only needed to open one of them for entrance, Byron steps inside to give Taylor a good view of the pool area. From there, one can see the changing and shower rooms, but beyond that there is a floor to ceiling view of the bay in the form of those large expansive windows. With the Apartments sitting on a cliff overlooking the bay, it gives an impressive view even from the ground floor.

The pool itself is large and the room looks light. Byron remains standing near a panel against one of the inner walls. "Isn't that beautiful?" He asks. "Though, during the summers, there's not much sense in using the pool, unless you don't care to wander out to the boardwalk or... the pond. But as Gray Harbor tends to rain more often than not, then having an indoor pool was a brilliant idea. Not mine. This space was here when I bought the building, I just updated it with a few bells and whistles."

That said, he toys with the panel, which in turn makes the once clear glass windows into something cloudier. Frosted. "Privacy windows, if anyone wants or needs them. But in truth, rain or shine, the view is fantastic."

Seeing as Dante shares his vision, he nods firmly, "That's exactly my thoughts. Something elegant, a masquerade ball where the townsfolk are cloaked in masks and costumes to add the mysteries of Gray Harbor. Though.." His shoulders shrug, "As I've said, not many are aware." He then asks again, "So why Gray Harbor, Mister Taylor? Looking for inspiration in our little town as well?"

"It's lovely. I'm a terrible swimmer, but it's lovely," says Dante as he takes in the view and the frosted glass trick. "I only ever learned at all because I thought I might try for the rowing team at school. Turns out I was rubbish, so I played cricket instead." A beat, then Dante grins, shakes his head. "And I realize I sound like an absolute caricature of an Englishman right now." An upper-class one, anyway. "Next I'll be talking about holidays in the Lake District and that one time my family had an audience with Her Majesty." He chuckles.

As for the question? "I don't know. Something in my research seemed to point me in this direction. And a lot of the stories of nearer towns have been exhaustively covered, and I do hate being a retread."

Byron lets out a light laugh, "I'm not the best of swimmers myself, but it's nice on a hot day." For now, he reverts the frosted glass back to being clear, expecting that's how others would prefer it to be when they come to the pool later that day. "Rowing, cricket. Enjoy the summer when you can, outdoor activities are at it's peak right now. But if you don't mind a little rain," Or a lot of rain... "It's quiet enough to out for a good run now and again. Something which I do on a daily basis in fact."

Despite the conversation moving on from good Ol' England, he does have to ask, half-turning to Dante, "Did you really meet with the Queen?"

After lingering for a moment to allow him a good view of the pool, despite not showing him the full capabilities of the room, though it's basically a light show in here if you play with the panels, he prepares to move onward. "Oh? What kind of research are you doing, if you don't mind my asking? More like, are you working on fiction or non-fiction?" That is the question. He leads Dante out through those large doors again and back into the original hallway.

"Ah, running, yes. I've travelled a fair bit and it's the type of workout you can do anywhere." Then, Dante grins and shakes his head. "I can take the rain, it's humidity I don't quite know how to deal with. The heat the other week gave me a devil of a time keeping my hair tamed. And it almost made me go without a jacket, which takes extraordinary circumstances."

He follows behind wherever Byron happens to lead next, "Non-fiction. I've a series called Dark Heart. I've written volumes about Wales, about the West of England and New England. But I always keep an ear out for nuggets that would inspire further books."

That easy amusement on his lips is followed by a quiet laugh, "You're definitely going to be one who will stand out in this town, Mister Taylor." Byron says, knowing full well what that's like. "But more and more professionals like you have begun flocking to Gray Harbor, so while it may be a blue collar town, it's slowly being infused with a touch of class." Pause, "Thus the Masquerade." He'll make sure to say, as he leads him just across the way to another set of double doors, "Not that I condone full gentrification of the town. I was born here. And grew up here." Rather than being dramatic, he opens a single door this time, "But I believe that town could use a boost to their economy. Some may not agree-- well, the local businesses would obviously appreciate the attention, but I know that there are those who would prefer the town to remain as it is." He then says in a thoughtful tone, "I don't disagree with that either."

"This is the gym. You'll find a lot of state-of-the-art, high-tech equipment here. Having a place to exercise is just another convenience that we offer. 24 hours a day, 7 days a week." And it's just as he'd mentioned. The floor is filled with machines of all sorts, though there's an impressive weights section off to the side as well as punching bags and things of that nature for those who would rather not depend on heavy metal equipment.

"Dark Heart?" He asks, "Yeah, I've heard of the series. In fact, I actually have the one written on New England." Because America! He quiets down now, pondering all of this, before asking, "Your research directed you to Gray Harbor. What stories or historical events in particular? I mean, if you don't mind my being nosy." There's this moment now that he stops in thought, his eyes seeming to study his guest, taking quiet note of something or other.

"It's a sensitive topic, gentrification. How do you keep your town sustainable and prosperous without pricing out the people you want it to become prosperous for? Several small English villages have struggled with that. Especially old coal mining towns or other resource extraction places that saw that depleted over time."

His face does light up upon seeing the equipment. "Excellent. I've been eating too many egg and bacon breakfasts and not keeping to enough of a routine since I arrived." He pats his stomach which is...well, it's a very well-cut suit that doesn't look forgiving.

"As I say, it was just a sense. I did some more general research on the west coast. Perhaps it's my fondness for Twin Peaks that biased me towards Washington State. I can't give you a list of research items that drew me here. It was just, well, I don't know, exactly. But I knew there was something here when I first arrived. Remains to be seen whether it's enoughf or an entire book."

"Our most prominent business," Byron says, thinking on it now, "Is the Sawmill. That's what Gray Harbor was founded on. It doesn't sound incredibly industrious in this day and age, now does it?" He starts to weave a path through the various sets of machinery, "Many of our town's families have worked for the Addington Sawmills for generations. Still do."

His gaze lowers to watch the other pat at his suit-covered stomach, that grin still on Thorne's lips, "Now, I don't know about cricket, but if you're ever wanting try your hand again at rowing, the bay in the summer may be just right for you. Normally, I'd prefer to exercise and do physical activities out of doors, but that's not always possible due to weather."

Once they've gotten a good look at all that the gym has to offer, he starts on the way back out into the hall. "You know, I was always wondered why there wasn't much of a boom when Twin Peaks aired, but then again, it's not a show for everyone." He holds the door open for Dante, "But you'll definitely get a similar vibe in this town." Which is an odd thing to say, given how weird the television series was. He then leads him back down the hallway to the elevators, "Have you been enjoying your stay in town then? Despite the humidity that we can get some times during the summer."

"I realized earlier you asked me about the Queen. And no, I have not met Her Majesty, but my grandfather had that pleasure as young man. Back when my family were landed gentry and not just a family in possession of a rather large house and no money to keep it up. And it's been a number of years since we were even that." Dante chuckles and sweeps a hand along the side of his hair to calm it after the trip to the pool. A few of the straight side pieces seem to be starting to curl.

"I might actually use your underutilized tennis court, if I can find someone to play with." He continues to follow behind, wherever the other man happens to want to lead him. "Perhaps the towns closer to the border got what little boom there was? And public opinion did turn against the show very quickly during that very uneven second season. Perhaps that was the reason." As to the question of enjoying his time, he wobbles his head. "It's certainly been enlightening. I thought I was equipped for a small town. I spent my early youth in one and still have a lot of family in and about them, but an American small town is a different animal."

Being a small town boy from some random town in Washington State, to Byron and much of Gray Harbor's lower and working class, the Addingtons were like royalty. But this was the Queen that Dante was talking about, so Thorne still looks somewhat impressed. "From what I've been told, my own family once held prominence within town. That was a long time ago." Nevermind that Thorne seems to be doing well for himself. He'll add to that, "I left for college and was fortunate enough to invest in some successful business ventures. I like to think that I'm making the Thorne name something to be proud of again." He says this almost as if he believes it.

His grin broadens, "Great! I promised the tenants who were interested in the courts that I would build a roof structure to keep the tennis court, itself, at least, rain free when summer passes. That is still being worked on." Byron then considers the man's words, looking towards him as they reach the elevator. He then presses the button. "Our lifestyle can't be /that/ much slower than life in an England countryside?" His tone is humored. The doors open and he steps in.

Dante honestly doesn't try to impress anyone, but he does recognize that his experience is very different to most of the town's residents. "My family followed the usual story of the turn-of-the-century minor nobility. Two world wars and some bad investments, plus a shift away from the power of the aristocracy meant that we were glorified middle-managers with no one left to manage." He chuckles softly and folds his arms over his chest as they step into the elevator. "What we were left with was a large, drafty manor house that was crumbling round the edges. My mother didn't see any point in staying with my father who was insistent on sinking with that stone around his neck. So she divorced him and moved me and my siblings into London." He leans over and murmurs wryly, with a fair amount of self-awareness, "Thoroughly modern of her wouldn't you say?" Nevermind this would have happened in the eighties or early nineties.

"Ah, it isn't the pace of the lifestyle. It's what people do to pass the time. For instance, you haven't a proper pub, which would be unthinkable back home for a town this size. Hell, it was unthinkable on the East Coast as well."

There are BBC dramas that follow the lives of such families as Dante's that Byron knows of, so he nods along with what the man says. "As I lack any true imagination, I would say that you should write about your family history. It would make for an interesting period drama. However, that's been done and it's something that they continue to put out." Not that it lacks viewership. "After I left for college." He starts, his postures drawn up, eyes on the numbers informing them of each and every floor, "my mother was forced to sell our family home as well. Unlike yours, she has a mind of buying it back from its current owner."

It reaches the third floor, before ending on the fourth. The sound of a 'ding' is heard before the doors open. "I resisted the idea, but I'm slowly considering it. If only for its historical value."

He then passes out into the fourth floor hallway, his hand reaching into pants pockets for the master keys. "This is the room that I'd had in mind for you." He says, leading the short distance down the hall, before unlocking the door to Suite 402. It's a corner apartment with a good view of the bay." Despite the lower floor. But the building was on an overlook! Allowing Dante entrance, before trailing behind him, he just has to ask, "Is the Two If By Sea not good enough?" He may not know what a real pub is like, apparently! It's just a bar, right?

"Oh lord, no. My family's story is only interesting because, yes, we're thousands of miles away from England." Dante watches the numbers go up as well. "My father did eventually have to sell. Though he stays in a cottage on land that used to belong to the Manor. Haunting the place like a bloody ghost," he smiles with fondness, which suggests that his relationship with his father isn't so bad despite everything.

"I'm sure I don't need to tell a smart man like you the dangers of sentiment mixing in with real estate. It's hard to think of one's childhood home in objective terms."

He steps into the apartment and smiles at what he sees. "Despite my wardrobe, I'm a man who doesn't require much from his living arrangements. Just...more than a toilet across the hallway, which is my situation now. But this is lovely, and I do love the ocean. Hence why I've lived on the east coast, and I've now come west, skipping all the bits in between." He waggles a finger.

As for Two if By Sea? "I did make some friends the other night there, or the possible start of friendships by buying a group a round of shots. But it's not the same. A proper pub is a community hub. It's comfortable, like an old shoe. A beach bar just doesn't have that same feeling."

It's quite interesting to hear about old English aristocracy and their fall. The tale prompts Thorne to ask, "Who owns the estate now? Do you know? And while your father may only live in a simple cottage, there must be a lot of nostalgia surrounding the lands." Despite his own mention of the Thorne House, calling it a family home, there's this distant look within his eyes when Dante calls it his childhood home. This quickly passes, his smile broadening somewhat. "You're probably right. But I know that she'll continue to nag at me until the end of her days until I do. I'll try to be strong." It's all said in good humor.

Now that they are inside the two-bedroom suite, Byron starts on his way to the French doors, drawing them open so that Taylor can get a better view of the balcony and the ocean beyond that. The skies were beautiful that afternoon as well. "With two bedrooms, I'm sure you'll have all the closet space that you need in that guest room." He turns to regard the very crisp suit that the other wears. "Not that the Master isn't already equipped with a walk-in closet." He then decides to share, "I've only lived on the West Coast my whole life. Gray Harbor and L.A. Two very different places."

He considers Dante's explanation for these pubs, "Ahh. It could very well be a community. The more of the residents and regulars that you get to know, but yes, I can see the difference in vibe and perhaps culture. There's another bar, the Pour House, but... that's not in the most ideal of neighborhoods nor do I believe it has more a community feel as well."

"A local heritage preservation society. They've a mind to turn it into something, but what I'm not sure. It's not the best located, but parts of it are still quite lovely, I suppose," Dante half-shrugs. "I haven't a huge attachment to it, to be honest. I mostly remember how drafty it was in the winter." He watches Byron, watching his reactions - and then he might remember that he's a writer, and thus tends to be more watchful of people than your average person.

"I walked into the Pour House place dressed like this," he motions to his expensive clothing, "...and you could hear a bloody pin drop. I thought it best to move on back out again rather quickly." He steps out onto the balcony and takes a deep breath. "The ocean smells so different here. Refreshing, but in a wholly different way. And..." he smiles. He tends to show a lot of teeth when he does so fully, "I see you've properly pegged me for the clothes horse I am. I did bring three large suitcases from New England. My wallet is happy for the fact that there's a lack of shopping options here. No offense, of course. I wouldn't expect Brooks Brothers in a town this size, after all." Then, "LA is somewhere I haven't yet ventured. I'm afraid I'd be positively ordinary there, and who wants that?"

He steps back inside and looks towards the bedrooms. "I don't really need two, but honestly, I'm willing to take more than I need if you're agreeable to short-term rental. I have no idea how long I'll be here."

"If Hyacinth Addington had her way," Byron speaks of the city council woman, "She would turn my family home into something similar to preserve the town's heritage. However, my mother just wants to return to the comfort that the place brought her." There's nothing comforting in his voice when he says this, in fact, it's downright dismissive. But he doesn't linger there.

There's a crinkle at the corner of his eyes, Byron's lips grinning widely now. "Yeah, I mean, there are times where I've been to the Pour House after a meeting and I didn't have time to change." Which does hint that he's not always so professionally attired. There are moments when there's a lapse in judgment or style... "But yes, despite how small the town may seem, that's an entirely different monster right there." He'll let the topic remain on suits for a while longer. It's better than talking about family or childhood homes, "I usually have to drive out to Seattle or all the way down to L.A. when I want something new. I mean, I could fly, but I like the long drive. The scenario." Riding around in the comfort of his Wraith.

He doesn't follow the man towards the bedrooms, simply watches him, "This is a corner apartment, they tend to come with two rooms. I'm sure you could make some use of it, either as a office or workshop of sorts." He'll give the man more time, before he proceeds back to the balcony to close those French doors. "And yes, I have no qualms against taking in a short-term rental. I'm just hoping that the accommodations are acceptable and the space quiet enough for your writing." He then adds, "There's a lounge on each floor in every building, complete with a snackbar and things of that nature. It's supposed to be a place for community, where you can hang out with the other tenants or entertain outside of your own residence. As well as, if you are interested, for an extra monthly fee, there's also maid service." This place is quite fancy.

And depite his aristocratic pedigree and fine wardrobe, it's considerably nicer than Dante is used to. He has a look around, then comes back out again. "I do actually tend to prefer the writer cliche of a coffee shop. Unless I'm deep in research or under a deadline. Mine is an incredibly solitary profession, and it's often just nice to be around the energy of others, even if I don't speak to them but to order a latte."

Dante ventures towards the kitchen and pokes around, "Well, Mister Thorne, this place is more than acceptable. In fact, it's considerably more than I'm used to. You've quite the place, here. And I appreciate the attempts made to encourage community. So many of these higher-end places tend to cloister people from one another. So if you'd have me, I'd be happy to move in for the time being."

Then, "I have a very fine tailor who works remotely, should you be interested. I believe they have a digital scanner in Seattle. Then your measurements are kept on-file and you can choose from a large selection online. I find I only need minor adjustments in tailoring when a piece gets to me."

"Quaint little coffee shops are something that Gray Harbor does have. Though not all of them come with free wi-fi." Byron will warn. Some of these places are still small town mom and pops stores. "And believe me, despite this being a small town and that there are places in my own buildings for the tenants to commune in, you might find that many still prefer their own solitary lives. Which is fine. Gray Harbor is filled with its own little secrets."

Seeing that the writer is ready to take the plunge, he reaches for those keys once again, "Very good. I have all of the paperwork with me, I just need your signature and I'll hand over the keys." As he goes to set that up at the kitchen table, he says, genuinely interested in the other's offer, "I'll probably ask for that number, yes. At the rate that I go through suits, I'm in need of a good tailor." Flipping through a few of the rental documents to get to the correct marked pages, he sets the Montblanc right beside the stack.

Once those are skillfully signed, Thorne flashes the man with a grin, "All that I can say now is, Mister Taylor, welcome to your new home." Temporary or not.