2019-09-01 - Planning and Pastry

After the events from yesterday, Byron is looking much better this morning. The brutally cracked bones within his chest were psychically set and he was on the mend; the only thing left, really, was the tenderness there and the fact that he may want to refrain from doing any activity that's too physical. Not until he's fully healed. Today, knowing full well that he wasn't going to be out and about for much of it, he's dressed in casual attire -- a black USC T-shirt and a comfortable pair of blue jeans. He's not going anywhere, so he's resting on his leather couch barefoot with a laptop resting over his thighs.

There's hardly a way for anyone to pay him a surprise visit, as he'd usually have to alert the guard at the front gate that visitors would show up and then give Frank all of their names. Otherwise, they'd have to offer their names and have the guardsman call up. Either way, Thorne is expecting company, so he makes sure to leave the front door to his apartment unlocked, having security allow his guests elevator access to the penthouse floor. It's quiet, there's a cup of coffee on the low table beside him to go with a half-eaten bagel. The air condition is on to keep the place cool for the day.

Tobin gives his name to the guard so that he can be let up after texting Byron to let him know that he was on his way over. He'd just gotten the message from Lilith and had left Dawn to take care of the remainder of the tours for the day before making his way over to Bayside Apartments. He gives a couple of quick raps on the doorframe to let Byron know that he's there, then tries the handle. Finding it unlocked, he lets himself in and says, "Hey," in greeting when he notices Byron is on the couch.

While she had arrived yesterday to check on Byron, he had already been fast asleep, and not one to intrude on a friend for longer than necessary, Isabella had lingered just long enough to ensure that Lilith was also okay, before she had left. With Alexander's discharge from the hospital, the day is free, at least, to do some work and to handle a few calls.

When she arrives, she's dressed as casually as ever, falling right on the line between practical and stylish - a burgundy romper dons her today, the spaghetti straps of it thin enough to reveal the thin white surgical scar marring the smooth tan of her left shoulder, and a pair of wedge-heel sandals that clasp around the ankles. Every step causes her moonstone pendant to swing against her heart, and scatter motes of iridescent light against the darker fabric of her clothes. Her long dark hair has been spun in a set of chopsticks and pinned to the back of her head, though not in any arrangement that is tight or severe - it remains loose, pieces of it framing her face and throat.

The door swings open just a few minutes after Tobin, though the view of her remains obstructed as she wiggles herself out of the satchel that she always brings with her, and totes a white box of treats from Vydal's patisserie downtown. "Ronnie?" she calls out. "You're awake, right?" Her steps can be heard, working over the expensive hardwood, though once she finally gets to his couch, green-gold eyes blink at the other face in the room - and one that is familiar.

After a few seconds of squinting, her expression clears up in favor of recognition. "...Tobin Gilford?"

After receiving a call that one of his guests had arrived at the gate, Byron knows precisely how long it should take for them to reach the elevator and be brought up to his floor, so once Tobin steps in, Byron is prepared for the visit. "So you got Lily's message? I almost forgot that I gave her a list of people to call, but I'm sure that you were at the top of that list." Shifting in his seat, he sets the laptop off to be placed at his side on the couch and slowly pulls himself to stand. It didn't hurt as much as it had yesterday. Each of his motions are done in a gingerly fashion.

"I can get another cup of coffee made for you." Then moments afterwards, Isabella turns up, his attention being pulled to the new arrival. "I'm awake and up and about." He says with a reassuring grin. "I've been out of commission for most of yesterday, but I'm feeling a lot better now." He notices the box in hand. It's probably a lot more fancy than his bagel, before extending that same offer to Bella now, "Coffee?"

Tobin is dressed in jeans and a grey t-shirt with the Gray Harbor Boat Tours logo on it, likely having come straight over from work. He looks much like he always does, with that bit of scruff. "Yeah," Tobin says to Byron when he asks about the voicemail. "I got her message. How are you doing?" His expression is concerned, not masking at all the fact that he had been worried on receiving the news. "Don't get up," he says when Byron starts to stand, "Just relax, man. I'm good." He waves off the coffee. But then he hears Isabella coming in behind him and turns around to see her. "Hey," he says in greeting when she comes into view. "Last I checked," he agrees when she says his name. "How's it going?"

The reassuring grin does wonders in unwinding some of the tension that remains on her shoulders, and Isabella smiles back, though at the offer of coffee, the look she gives him becomes incredulous. "Yes, coffee, but I'll get it. You sit." She points at the entrepreneur emphatically with an index finger, though she does deposit the fancy treats box on the table next to him, and reaches out, gently, to touch the side of his face if he allows. A light touch, barely felt, with just two fingers. Her eyes are softened with concern, but as usual, it would probably take being drawn and quartered by wild horses before she addresses any of it.

To Tobin, she flashes him a broad grin. "Busy," she says, electing to give him a truthful answer that is, by all rights, relatively inadequate after everything that has occurred in the last few weeks, but it is accurate enough and the other man's easy smile is enough to put her in a bubble of perpetual good humor. "What about you? Do you want coffee, now that Byron's not getting up to make it?"

With the inquiry of how he's doing, all that Byron can say is, "Better than yesterday." He really would have wandered over into the kitchen area to start up the espresso machine, but it seems that that task was snatched away from him by Reede. The edges of his lips tug up further, his bristled cheek leaning into Isabella's fingers. He's had a day to rest and despite some minor discomfort, especially around his chest area, Byron will comply and settle back down within his seat. "What did you get us today?" He asks, leaning forward to flip the top of Vydal's pastry box open so that he can pick out one of the goodies within.

He'll let the gathered ease into conversation, though he's sure what the question of the day on everyone's mind might be. It's just not something that he gets into immediately. "Vivian needed to run a few errands. But, so far, so good this morning." No new attack.

Tobin smiles a little bit over at Isabella when she offers coffee now that Byron isn't getting it and nods, "Sure, I'll have a cup." He then moves into the livingroom and settles himself onto the floor, not far away, crosslegged. He glances over at the box when Byron opens it, idly curious what might be inside, but then he asks, "How's Vivian doing?" He hadn't seen her in a while. He doesn't immediately jump into any questions, either, seeming content to settle in for the moment.

"A bunch," Isabella laughs - he would know about her lack of a sweettooth, so stopping at a place that specializes in desserts and baked goods often leaves her with a tendency of just buying what looks good in hopes that she'll hit the mark somewhere. "A few donuts, some macarons, plain butter and dark chocolate croissants, and a couple of fruit-and-cheese danishes for me and Lilith. Is she stopping by later? I bought some just in case she is."

There's a wiggle of her fingers, before long-legged strides take her across the floor and towards the well-stocked bar and the high-tech espresso machine that Byron keeps in his house. Taking two ceramic cups from where they're laid out, she starts brewing some coffee, and leaves the two best friends to talk. Some of their conversation manages to reach her, unable to help but overhear, but for now she takes her time in familiarizing herself with all the buttons. The machine the man keeps in his penthouse has a lot more options than the Keurig she keeps in her houseboat, after all.

"It's a good thing that you mentioned that the fruit and cheese danishes were for you and Lilith or else I would've taken one for myself." Byron says with a laugh, looking as if he may reach out for a donut before grabbing one of the chocolate croissants and setting it down ontop of his bagel for now, just somewhere to put it." A bit of the crumbly dark chocolate breaks off in his hands and these pieces he pops into his mouth where they melt away. "Mm, I'm pretty sure that she will be here at some point." There's a look down at his watch, checking to see when Vivian would return. When the question is asked, he says, "She's been busy with work and her own side projects." Only then does he reach over to retrieve the croissant that he'd set aside before settling comfortably against the couch.

"This hasn't been easy for her. Or anyone for that matter." Tearing out a piece of the flaky pastry, he slips it between his lips, "I can hire as many security guards that I can afford for this building, but no one is really safe here."

Once Byron has selected something from the box, Tobin leans up and peers over into it, reaching in and grabbing a couple of the macarons and setting them in his hand. He takes one and takes a bite out of it, careful not to drop crumbs anywhere. He nods at the mention of things being hard on Vivian. "Do you think all that stuff that was tossed around the other day was a similar type of attack? And any better idea what the source of it might be? I can't imagine just being here with.. no way of protecting yourself against it, and no way of figuring out what it is in order to stop it." His brow furrows.

"William Gohl is the first name that comes to mind." Byron says after chewing on a piece of pastry. "We've been working on finding a way to stop him. We /know/ that he's the one murdering everyone in town-- most of them connected in some way by blood to the Addingtons and Baxter families." Isabella knows everything he's about to say. "I even had Gohl's bones, part of them, in my apartment for a time after we tried to keep them separated once they were removed from the other side." He pops another piece of croissant into his mouth, "I'd gotten rid of mine by handing them off to the Archivist in City Hall. I wasn't the only one though, Clayton offered up one of Gohl's toe bones." Or was it a finger, he's not sure, "And Bella, I think, gave him the ribcage." Which is odd as it was Byron's ribcage that was shattered painfully yesterday morning.

"The murders themselves, as far as what we've been able to find out, is Gohl's connection to Thomas Addington. It's Addington who we believe that's killing these victims remotely due to his abilities, which," He shrugs with a shake of his head, "Is not one of ours." He says, speaking of his own mentalist abilities. "Though it seems very similar to what Lilith can do." He continues, "So far though, the victims have been of Addington or Baxter blood, none of which I am-- that is except for the Henderson family. Doctor Faust, who recently succumbed to her wounds, and her brother who was slaughtered that night. They are the only ones who we haven't been able to figure out how they are blood connected at all." A pause, "Besides the fact that Faust had some of Gohl's bones too, just like myself. And she had them during the moment of her own attack."

"So.. wait, is it William Ghol that's kiling people or Thomas Addington that's killing people?" Tobin asks, trying to make sense of all of that information. "And if they're going after people with the bones, and the bones are being turned over to the Archivist, why not go after the Archivist?" He has no idea who the Archivist is, but seems to be following that much. "Also, why not destroy the bones? Wouldn't that get rid of Gohl?" He looks between Byron and Isabella as he takes all of this information in. "Why just separate them?"

"Thomas Addington is murdering them, being possessed by William Gohl. Or something of that nature, the Addingtons aren't very forthcoming." Byron is quick to clear up. "Thomas Addington has helped to keep Gohl's spirit asleep for all this time, but something happened and woke Gohl up. Now Gohl's been using Addington to commit these murders." A slow glance is given to Isabella who is still in the kitchen, "Wanting to surpass his kill streak before he was murdered." He then shakes his head, "No, or... I have no freakin' clue. Not all of the victims had bones. The Addingtons who were murdered had nothing to do with the bones. Nor did Isabella's mother, who was also murdered." Yes, he comes out and says this straight up and firmly. "Bella, however, had part of the bones, but that's another story entirely." Not one that he'll reveal, leaving it up to Isabella if she wants to do so. Family blood lines are such personal things.

He then licks his lips, "Bella burned a batch of the bones she'd had one night. The next thing we knew, Alexander Clayton felt like he was burning up at that exact same time. In areas, I'll assume, that matched the bones which Isabella burned. Of course, we didn't know that at the time and only found out when it was brought up in conversation on what we each did with our portion of the bones." Looking directly at Tobin now, he murmurs, "Either way, the Archivist or the Collector," Who he's never met, "Now have the bones which both myself and the ribcage which Isabella had donated to them for further information. Our donating Gohl's bones is what made the Archivist tell us what our next step should be and that was to speak to Thomas Addington, which in turn," He reclines more comfortably in his seat, "Is how we learned that Addington was being controlled by Gohl's ghost."

Byron is, at least, taking care of the difficult part. Her back remains to the both of them when he launches on the details about the Ghoul, and her own personal stake in the matter; her movements are mechanical on that end when she fixes both cups of espresso for herself and Tobin, and when she finally turns around, her expression retains much of its earlier good humor. Those brisk, confident strides take her back over to her slightly older schoolmates, and wordlessly hands a cup to Tobin when she reaches him.

Isabella, then, eases into a seat next to Byron on the couch, but not before fishing out one of the fruit-and-cheese danishes that she bought for herself and Lilith. She keeps it on a napkin, careful with the crumbs. She might be a regular visitor to the man's penthouse, but she is still mindful of the fact that she is a guest. Long legs cross at the knee and she leans back to take a small pull of her coffee, setting the cup aside on a coaster and picking at her food.

"But what happened to you, Ronnie?" she says, furrowing her brows, green-gold irises gravitating to his direction. "I know Lilith re-set your bones and that she found you..." She gestures vaguely to the side, illustrative that she didn't know that either, other than the fact that the young woman was the one who rushed over and saw to his injuries. "That you were attacked and your ribs were crushed, but she didn't really tell me about the how. Did someone sneak up on you from behind or...?"

"Oh, okay," Tobin says as he settles there, one macaron halfway to his mouth when he hears that Thomas Addington is killing people while possessed by Gohl. That makes sense, in as much as anything in all of this insanity makes sense, but he seems to accept that much as relative fact, and continues to listen, finally taking another bite of the cookie. It's a really good cookie. He'd probably appreciate it more if he wasn't completely distracted by the conversation. "So burning the bones caused Alexander pain? How the hell does that work? What's his connection with Gohl?" His brows cinch a bit and raise at the same time in obvious confusion. "So now that we know that Addington is being controlled.. how do we get Gohl out of Addington.. or do we get Gohl out of Addington? Can we just lock up Addington and keep Gohl prisoner or will he pop out on his own? Leaving him when he can't commit more murders?"

When Isabella comes over and hands him the cup, Tobin takes it with a grateful smile. "Thanks, Bella." He blows a little across the surface of the espresso and then takes a small sip. Then he glances between Isabella and Byron as she broaches the topic of his own attack, clearly interested in knowing the answers to those questions as well.

While Byron might not have gone into details with Isabella's lineage, he does come out to say, "Alexander Clayton is a descendant of William Gohl. The... Archivist showed us that once Clayton offered it one of Gohl's bones for the Collector." A gracious grin is offered to Isabella when she brings their drinks and he takes his up in hand just to hold. He'll wait for it to cool down a bit before taking that much needed first sip. "I'm not quite sure if that's the actual reason why Clayton and Gohl's bones are linked, but it's why we hadn't done anything more to the rest of the bones. In case it would physically reflect back on Clayton."

He dips part of his croissant into his coffee, letting it soak up the wonderfully strong caffeine, "The Addingtons told us that they would be sending Thomas to the Facility." He tacks on, "The same one which Vivian's been investigating, supposedly others had been sent there in the past including that one Whitehouse twin. Even William Gohl was sent there way back when.." Once that piece of croissant is good and soaked, he pops it into his mouth and starts chewing, "There's some concern that they aren't acting quickly enough and that we'll end up with other victims before Addington is actually sent away, which is why some of us," A particular police Captain.. "feel that we might need to take matters into our own hands and ensure that Addington is committed or... other measures are taken so that he can no longer be used as Gohl's tool in our world."

With all of that out of the way, he just blinks at the question of what happened. Like it's even a question at all. "I can only assume that the attack was done remotely, the same way Addington is murdering Gohl's victims." Why wouldn't it be? "No one can get into the penthouse, Bella. It was done remotely."

"It's good to see you," Isabella tells Tobin, warmth twining over her low inflection, tempered by the unvoiced idea that she had hoped it was under better circumstances. After scrutinizing him carefully underneath the light of day, Summer's last breaths filtering in through the double doors leading out to the terrace, her mischievous smile reappears, the devil dancing in those evergreen-and-gold depths. "You're just as cute as ever."

She lets Byron field most of Tobin's inquiries, before she speaks up. "There's a glaring question to be answered as to why the Addingtons decided to act now and not before. There were five official victims before we had confronted them in their own home, and we haven't had any satisfactory answers as to just why they waited this long to plan on committing Thomas. We're hoping that Erin Addington will return some answers in that regard." She frowns, glancing down at her danish. "This has been rough on her also, but she's determined to assist, even if it means clashing directly with her own family."

The archaeologist takes a breath and looks up to regard Byron's befuddled expression, canting her head faintly. "I mean how," she murmurs. "And I know it was done remotely, but I'd like to know what exactly happened, if you're willing to tell us. It stands to reason that anyone with the right skillset would be able to murder the way the Ghoul does. Its also doesn't answer the question..." Her voice trails off; her jaw tightens. "...as to why you're alive. Why the person who did it didn't elect to cut your throat, or end it in the manner that's more efficient than letting you suffocate. The Ghoul wants to beat his record - if he is serious about that, I really wonder whether he would take the chance in the prospect of killing you slowly." She pauses. "Unless you were meant as a warning."

Tobin looks thoughtful as he takes all of that information in, nodding a bit when the connection between Gohl and Clayton is revealed, because that too, in the strange circumstances in which they find themselves, makes some sort of sense. He finishes off one macaron and sips at his espresso. "What Facility?" Tobin asks, not quite sure what Byron is referring to when he goes on to talk about Thomas going there. He looks thoughtful, as though mulling something over as Byron explains that the attack was done remotely, seeming to drift out of the conversation for a few moments.

Tobin looks up at Isabella's comment and for a moment he looks confused, and then the slightest of flushes touches his ears, "Oh, uh.. thanks. It's good to see you, too. It's been a while." He smiles a little crookedly, then. The compliment seems to distract him, momentarily. Then he comes back around to the conversation at hand, nodding about Erin. He takes a breath and then lets it out slowly, "Were you just hanging out in the apartment and then just, bam, on the floor?"

"The Facility is some institution on the other side where some of our own, people from town, were sent due to one thing or other." Byron says almost dismissively because he doesn't know the full information regarding the place. "The ones were thought to be crazy. There were some inquiries being done into it because Violet Whitehouses' sister is still there and people started realizing that the Facility wasn't a real place. Not in our world. There's no record of it at all. It exists on the other side, however, and there are those who are trying to find the entrance to it as we speak." Well, probably not at this very moment, but there are some investigating. "William Gohl was sent there. He was part of some testing and then he died there. His bones were exhumed once they were buried by the... Carr family." Rebecca Carr's sister was recently murdered right here in his apartment building. "Who in turn have some relation to Gohl, which is why they were allowed to do so. That, however, happened a long time ago. Not anywhere near Gohl's reawakening."

Now he's asked to recount the incident. Breathing in deeply, thankfully he is able to do so now, Byron starts, "It happened basically a full day ago, around this time of morning yesterday. I'd made breakfast, was preparing coffee and was just about to start my day when I felt this crushing pressure in my chest. Believe me, I thought it could've been a heart attack at first, but then I realized that my bones were grinding and twisting. Several of them," He never actually got a number count, "began to crack individually. One after the other it felt."

He slowly leans forward to set his cup back onto the table and finish up the piece of croissant still in hand, "All I could remember was this terrific pain and a difficulty breathing. I could feel the shattered bones when I pressed a hand to my chest. Then I stumbled towards the couch and collapsed to the ground there." Right in back of where they are seated now. "First thing I did was call Lilith. Vivian wasn't here, but I knew Lilith could help." He doesn't look at Isabella when he says this, keeping to a level tone, "I almost wished that my throat was slit. The pain was unbearable. Excruciating and slow." Methodic. "I'd wondered if whoever it was had an intention to kill me and I do realize that not all of Gohl's victims were sliced open. Erin Addington's parents died in a car crash."

She's busily nibbling on the edge of her danish and while she doesn't have much of an appetite, she really needs to eat more than once a day. Isabella lifts her eyes to regard Byron as he continues to speak before setting aside the rest of it and picking up her coffee instead. Blowing absently on the steam, she takes another sip.

It gives her something to do, in an effort to ignore the white-hot sensation of that stewing, unaddressed rage crawling up her throat, threatening to cave her skull in, when her friend recounts what happened to him. "There's a lot that we don't know, still," she says quietly, keeping her voice low in an effort to mask everything else that is roiling underneath a deceptive veneer of determined calm. But she isn't, not really - not by a mile.

Tobin's eyes widen a bit at the mention of a place where those who were considered crazy were sent on the other side, "Seriously?" Tobin takes that in for several long moments, and those wheels continue to turn in his head, over and over again. He doesn't articulate everything that is going through his mind, but it's clear that he is lost in thought. But the horrified look that crosses his face as Byron describes what happened is clear evidence that he's paying attention before he looks up and stares at his best friend, "Holy shit." He doesn't even respond to the rest of it. He swallows, hard, clearly having a hard time articulating anything.

To add a bit to this talk on the Facility, Byron says, "It's a place where they put people like us. People who shine WHEN we act against how They want us to act." If there's emphasis put on certain words, he doesn't mean to do so. "This is what Vivian told me when she happened upon the office of one of the Facility's doctors. That office on the other side as well, but the entrance to it can be found within Addington Memorial. Now, I don't know what any of that means. What I do know is that some who were treated there had been released at some point. Why though? Are they now in compliance with... Them?"

No one in this room has any answers to that, so he doesn't linger on that discussion for overly long. "There's a lot that we don't know about /anything/." Byron states quickly enough. "I was supposed to give Lilith a list of named of who would most likely be the next targets. The Addington and Baxter blooded, but I'm not sure I had gotten that out or if I'd only imagined doing so."

There's a nod of agreement at Tobin's quiet invective, because he's right. Holy shit, indeed. That was precisely what she said when she heard about a facility built to contain people like them.

She looks up at Byron, startled, when he tells everyone that the portal into Dr. Marshall's office is somewhere in Addington Memorial, and the idea of going back there again inserts a look upon her that's almost comically indescribable. "I didn't know that," she says, making a mental note of it - not that she can do much about it, at the moment. Her fingers clutch at her cup, frustration straining her fingers.

The archaeologist forces herself to take a drink of her coffee. "There's only so much we can do about security, also. I think in the end..." Her smartphone starts chiming due to repeated texts, and she fishes the device out of her pocket to take a look. "....we can at least monitor each other. Check in with the group at certain times."

Tobin is silent through these revelations, as he begins to make all kinds of mental connectiosn between the information that he knows, and what Byron adds to it. He forgets entirely about that second macaron which just kind of sits there on a napkin on his knee while he mulls all of this over. "So there are places over there.. that remain, that people can get to and come back from." It's mostly said to himself. He nods a bit regarding the mention of the list. "Do you even know who all those people are?" He seems to once more focus back in on the conversation at hand. "We're going to have to," Tobin agrees with Isabella. "We're going to have to try and keep in touch with each other as best we can to try and help when we can.. until we figure out some better way."

"Some of that is doctor-patient confidentiality, I'm afraid and I don't pry too hard with Vivian." Byron will admit, "As much as I'd like. Just remember anyone that we may have known or heard of who was suddenly whisked away. Rumors might have spread that they were crazy. They may have been sent to the Facility." There's this look of consideration on his features, but fuck 'em. "Easton Marshall," That jerk from way back when, "His uncle is the Doctor who Vivian ran into there. Someone killed him though, right before her eyes. Luckily for us, if you can call it that, he's some sort of zombie, still willing to pass off information."

It's his turn to respond to the beeping of his phone, the sound of it vibrating against the coffee table is heard loud and clear. To anyone who can can see the newly lit up screen, it's Lilith. Reaching for it, he starts tapping a few things out, even smiling a touch at what said to him at the end. "Lil might be on her way over soon." He then is quick to say, "The known victims are Addington blooded and Baxters. Aside from the Hendersons and myself." Once he says this, he realizes that he may have hinted exactly who may hold Addington or Baxter blood as it narrows things down if anyone is keeping track of who was murdered. "We, however, have a link to the bones, having kept them in our possession for a time."

"She was somewhat shaken by that entire affair, she told me she had difficulty sleeping," Isabella tells Byron quietly, regarding the death of Dr. Marshall. "But Vivian's made of strong stuff, if she's invested in investigating the asylum, I think we should let her..." Despite her own misgivings, and it's clear that she's not happy with herself for saying the words. "Her experience with mental health facilities could be invaluable in that regard."

Mention of Lilith coming over has the archaeologist grinning faintly. "It'd be good to see her again so soon," she tells her friend, before she stands up so she could refill her coffee. But there's a glance at Byron as he gives his usual erudite recounting of everything they know so far. He may not be an academic, or an investigator, but the man is sharp when he wants to be, and also has a long and detailed memory. There's a hint of pride, too, on her expression.

"I remember Easton," Tobin says, not prying into the actual list, he was more just curious if Byron knew who they were, not asking for the names, themselves. "Didn't Julia get sent away for a while when she was a kid before she moved to California?" His brow knits a little bit, "They said she went to some kind of hospital, didn't they?" He seems to recall something like that. He nods and says, "I'd heard that those who were killed were mostly Addingtons. It's just the Baxter part that is new." He takes a deep breath then lets it out slowly, "So as someone who is not a Baxter, an Addington, or a keeper of bones, is there anything I can do to help? I feel kind of like I should be doing something.. since I'm /not/ a target, you know?" He nods to Isabella when she mentions letting Vivian continue to investigate. "I'd be interested in helping, too.. if she needs help in that investigation." The fact that he has a vested interest in traveling to places in the Veil notwithstanding.

"This is not your average mental health facility, though." Byron is very quick to point out, "Supposedly, you're sent there if someone, possibly the psychiatrist attached to the Facility, but working in our world like Doctor Marshall, they would need to deem you as..." He's trying to find the best words to describe, "Need correcting? It's hard to say. That's when you are sent to the Facility." Taking is coffee cup in hand again, he leans in for a sip, "That makes me wonder what they think of the rest of us. Are we playing along the way we want and thus we're not being sent there? Have never been sent there?"

Then Tobin brings Julia up and here Byron nods. He remembers those rumors when they were kids. "She was sent upstate, but we weren't really allowed to talk about it." But kids talk. "And she's back now. In fact, she'd been released for a while now. I met her when I was in college. Took a trip to San Fran where she was in culinary school."

With Tobin's offer to help, Byron murmurs, "If you're willing to do what needs to be done to finish this once and for all, then I have someone whose interested in that sort of help." It's an ominous statement and it's not difficult to tell what he means by 'once and for all'. It's also why he doesn't name names. "Otherwise, we're trying to find a particular Three people who will be needed to lock Gohl away. There's no hint on even where to start looking there. And then we need something, a box of sorts, to trap him in."

Isabella remains quiet for now, but she is clearly listening as she refills her coffee. At the offered help, there's a glance over her shoulder at Byron, the look of her sharpening slightly. But contingencies are necessary - if the body count rises, there will be no room for half measures.

"Possibly," Tobin says on the topic of whether or not they'd been sent there because they were doing what they were expected to do. "Remember the play?" They had killed, and things had been.. lighter.. afterward, as though those dark forces had chosen to turn a blind eye to them for a while. "As uncomfortable as that is." He nods when Byron remembers Julia but it's what he says about doing what needs to be done that has him looking concerned once more. "I mean.. of course, I want to help stop a serial killer from killing people, particularly the people I care about, but anyone, for that matter, if I can." He's not sure what exactly needs to be done, but he certainly seems open to hearing that out.

It's been a few minutes since he'd sent that text so when Byron looks down at his phone it's from security downstairs. Typing in some sort of approval to what was said, he murmurs with an arched brow, "Lil's here." Thorne's not going to beat around the bush now. He knows that Isabella already knows what's going on, so he states this outright, though he has a feeling that this is just not in his best friend's interest. "We can force their hand. The Addingtons. Make sure that they follow through what they said they would-- either committing Thomas to the Facility or... ensure that Gohl can't use Thomas Addington as a murderous tool." Permanently. He doesn't say it, but it's implied enough in his tone. "As you know, we'd all want to finish this before the next person dies. I mean, that next person could've been me yesterday morning for all we know. But fate or something intervened which is why I'm here today. I'd told my source that I had doubts that many would agree to such extreme and harsh tactics, but if it means preventing the next death, he and I'm sure a few others, will be willing to take that risk."

She will let the two friends talk. Isabella picks up a phone call from her back pocket, blinking at the Louisiana number that she finds within. She gestures to Byron wordlessly, before she moves to step out into the terrace to speak with her aunt.

Lilith would knock, but what for? If it's locked, she just cheats, security knew she was coming up, Byron knew she was on her way. No need to make anyone get up and come to the doorway. Today she's wearing little tailored black shorts with a lacing corset front tie instead of buttons and zipper for style sake and a dark indigo swing tank with crochet shoulders and sides to show a black layering tank beneath, black sandals that are a bit gladiator-strap style on her feet. She also has a shoulder bag tote serving as purse, sunglasses on her head to push back the layers of her freshly washed hair that's been blowdried sleek and rather straight, a little bit of makeup on, and... Dog on a leash dragged along for kicks when she comes in.

Dog is a stuffed husky plush. Why does she have a collar and leash on it? To be ridiculous and cheer Byron up with walk in, of course.

After hanging her purse on the coat rack, she drags that stuffed animal over to where Byron is seated with a bit of a twitch at her lips for Tobin, as Isabella is out on the terrace with the phone, and she acts like this whole dragging a fake dog around thing is perfectly normal. Leaning down in brief, she picks it up and puts it straight into the man of the house's lap, "I heard there were danishes, basically the only reason I came."

Tobin listens as Byron lays things out and his expression goes serious, and then somewhat grim. "Why would they be holding off on putting this guy in some kind of confinement until they can get Gohl out of him? But also.. what if doing something to Thomas just frees the ghost to then hop into someone else? Would that even solve the problem?" He frowns a bit and rubs at the back of his neck. Were they seriously talking about taking someone's life. "I mean, it's not Thomas' fault that this happened to him right? You said he was the one who was keeping Gohl.. asleep?" He takes a breath and lets it out slowly, "We definitely don't want there to be any more victims, one way or another." He certainly isn't saying no, but it's clear that he's definitely weighing through what it all means. He glances up when Lilith walks in and looks at her, to the "dog" and then back up. It's clear that he's still too lost in thought about what they'd been discussing before her arrival. "Hey, Lil," he says as she settles down. "How you been?" He hasn't seen her since the intervention.

Savoring in that dark bitter taste of espresso, the caffeine giving him that nice kick for the morning, Byron has to consider Tobin's question, "We don't know, but the Addingtons were also not very forthcoming with answers to all of our questions. So we don't know how or why Thomas Addington is linked to Gohl or how to break that bond. In fact, it didn't seem like they wanted our help at all. They were handling it themselves. Which was nice of them." That last part is said sarcastically, "If they would only have handled things before someone else got hurt, but after I practically had my chest caving in on itself, I'm not gonna lie when I say I want this over with immediately."

The door swings open, he'd left it unlocked for his visiting guests. There's an urge to rise and stand from his seat, but he remains seated all the same. "Don't tell me that even as adults we have to make sure you're eating right still, Lily." It's his little joke to her from their time as children. Dog is noted, especially once the stuffed husky is dumped into his lap. He'd given it to her when she was in the hospital. It's here with him now. Turning the toy over i his hands, giving it a mock inspection, he will admit, "It's good that you're getting used to walking a dog. You're going to have to do that a few times a day once we get you a real one."

He then adds, informing the late comer to the conversation, "I was just telling Tobin what our options were and how I feel that we have so little time to act on them."

Her conversation with her aunt over, Isabella emerges from the terrace, quietly tucking her phone in her back pocket. Espying the new arrival, there's a broad grin - enough that the normally hidden dimple on her left cheek emerges visibly. "Lilith, I brought you food," she tells her with a wink, and there's a glance at the stuffed dog that has been deposited on Byron's lap. Her expression is indescribable - almost embarrassingly adoring. Someone is a dog person.

But she seems to be cognizant of the gooshy face she is making at the moment, so she coughs and looks away, as if that small moment hadn't happened, before she proceeds to venture further inside of the room. "You want anything?" she asks her fellow brunette. "Coffee? Refills?" She glances at Tobin and Byron, just in case they want more of the latter's very fine espresso.

"I'm..." Granted, Lilith is variable in regards to Tobin's question, but instead of popping off a "fine" to dismiss it when she's really holding things in with a certain defensive flair for habit when things are miserable, she actually considers it. Obviously, finding Byron like she had was a big scary deal for her, that's a given, there's been other bobbles too, and the dream and...

The brunette opts to go with something good, though. While answering Tobin, Lilith grins some at Byron's tidbit on future-real-dog and leans to press a kiss at one side of the dark-haired man's temple with dote before hanging there in hover to put her hand alongside his neck at the pulse and shirt collar, "Well. There's been some things." Obviously. Dangerous recent dream aside, her seeing Byron as she found him no doubt flipped her into some form of overdrive emotions, but from the look of her right now, she's perfectly darling with behavior and appearance, "I haven't been drunk again and I was the last one standing on my paintball team in the park, so that was nice. We still lost because I was outwomanned by the other side, but it felt good to be scrappy in a way that doesn't see people bleeding or caught on fire."

Lilith doesn't really need to touch Byron to get a sense of how his body feels, and technically, she knows he's fine. But it's one of those things she just wants to touch, draw into and ride the waves of, that structural sturdiness of his body outside the physical with the alternate way it's solid and familiar. Especially after what happened. Which... is part of the conversation at hand for everyone else right now. On straightening, she goes immediately for a danish out of the bakery box once she's quit hovering over Byron with an 'mm' noise at the clarification as to what's being discussed.

And there standing there just eating that danish, she suddenly looks a little less darling with whipflash steel and violence in her eyes while she looks at a distant point on the wall. It's brief, but it's there. If anyone was ever going to go down an option path to amend the situation with blood and flame, it happened with her the very second she saw Byron on the floor and Tobin probably knows enough to see through some of the keep it clean and pretty act. So does Byron, but then, she's already confessed her inclinations to him. Isabella asking about refills on come in from the terrace pushes her out of that pensive moment lit with fire, "Oh! Isabella, if you could work his fancy espresso maker for me so I'm not inclined to take it apart and see how it ticks, I'll kiss you. He might faint seeing me take apart something so sacred to him."

Then abruptly, she addresses the real meat of what was conversation before she walked in, clued in with update, "My worry... is that Alexander will be the next possessed driver if the supposedly-possessed driver we know about now doesn't make for the end solution. I might have to learn to murder a ghost instead of a man. But really, either is fine. I just want to make sure it's the right kill to end things.."

Well then. She clearly doesn't have a lot of qualms. Her tone is a little dry, like she's trying to put some spin on whether or not she's fully serious, but...

She probably is.

Tobin glances down to his empty cup and then says, "Yeah, I think I could use a refill," when Isabella offers. He hadn't even realized he'd finished it. He offers the cup up to her for refill and finally realizes he still has a macaron sitting on top of a napkin on his knee where he sits cross-legged on the floor. He takes a deep breath then lets it out slowly, saying, "Okay well, I'm willing to help get whatever box we need to stuff Gohl into, and I'll help with a plan to try to contain him. I'd like to save extreme measures as a last resort if possible, but.. we need this to stop. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if more people died and I didn't try to do something.. I don't want anyone to have a shot at hurting you again, either." This, said quietly to Byron. He's a gentle soul, would never hurt a fly, but even the most gentle of souls can be pushed too far when the there is a clear and present danger to the people they care about. He then looks over to Lilith and he says, "I was worried about that, too. Keeping him trapped /in/ Thomas might be better than possibly letting him out."

Despite the subject matter, he smiles quietly at the kiss pressed against his temple, Dog still in his lap. It's now his turn to fall quiet. He nearly died yesterday as far as he could tell, so he does take in the conversation around him with great interest. "Gohl nearly killed Clayton." Byron points out. He, himself, still has coffee left so there's no need for a refill. "I don't think he would've done that if he felt he could use Clayton as his next vessel. What with Thomas Addington being as old as he is. Then again, Clayton probably pissed him off enough that he lashed out. He didn't even need Thomas Addington to do the deed."

"So where do we begin? How do we create a magical coffin to hold him in? And how do we decide who the correct three people are that can put him down once and for all?" A pause, "Until he's reawoken next. Because, I can't say that I've figured that out. Though I know that Erin Addington was sent back to speak with her elders again. I hope that she can add some insight into some of these questions before the next victim is chosen." Or before Golh or whoever decides to finish what they started with him.

She does nothing but quietly scrutinize Lilith for a while, recognizing the signs of fury there - as far as temper and spirit are concerned, she has a growing suspicion that she and Lilith have more in common than she has initially surmised, green-gold eyes taking in the smooth, alabaster profile as near-amethystine eyes fix on the far wall away from her company. What she elects to actually say after that quiet moment observance, though, has very little to do with her perception of the matter, as always lightning fast when it comes to donning humor as armor: "I think he's more liable to faint if you actually did kiss me," Isabella muses, complete with a lascivious waggling of her brows, bouncing up and down like springs against her hairline.

She does move, eventually, to pluck the cup handed to her by Tobin, and work the espresso machine again, picking up another cup and pushing the buttons with a manicured fingernail. It doesn't take her long to return to the trio, handing Lilith her coffee (ladies first), followed by the best friend's refill. She eases back into her place on the couch, though she scoots over on the other end, in case the other woman would like a seat closer to her two close friends.

After another bite of her almost-forgotten danish, the green-eyed archaeologist addresses Byron's questions, and Lilith's concerns. "I think the only thing we're guaranteed regarding the Ghoul is the fact that nothing is beneath nor beyond him," she points out. "He can decide to try and kill Alexander for having the gall to root through his mind one night..." And there's a twist of agony there, faint but real, reminded of just how furious she is that he would put himself at risk, but at the same time proud of the fact that he would - to her, of course he would risk it. He would do all that is necessary. "And then decide he's a fitting vessel for him in the next day, so if we can lock him in a box, which he hates, by the way, he basically flipped his shit when the possibility occurred to him, I say we do it if not for the additional torment that could inflict upon the sonuvabitch for all fucking eternity."

The young woman rarely ever curses; this is as many expletives as she has placed in one sentence in a while, often a gauge of not just her temper, but how severely it is being tested and how long it has remained unaddressed. Even speaking about it threatens to blow out the side of her jugular, how her blood pressure rises, because she still remembers having to tape Alexander's throat shut, and without the practice and intensity of Lilith's own abilities to aid her until they got to the hospital.

"The last time I talked to Alexander, he suggested that we go back to the occultist that helped us with the seance to give us some guidance as to how such a spirit can be contained. Minerva's protections saved his life - it stands to reason that this would be within her wheelhouse. I'm seeing her this afternoon, after I spend some time with your adorable faces." She flashes a winning smile at all of them at that. "I also got in touch with Rebecca Carr about the box the bones were transported in from the other side, to this side. The problem is, the house it might be in was busy being packed for a move, so there's a gazillion boxes there. She wants this over, too, so she'll help me see if we can't find it and see if we can't read it. I suspect, however, that we might not find all of the answers we need on this side. Some of us might have to go back to the place where this entire bone situation started and if that happens, we'll probably need Rebecca's help there as well. If there's an excursion that should happen there, I spoke to Captain de la Vega earlier this morning when we went out shooting. He has agreed to go if something dangerous such as that will be attempted."

"Maybe." The woman starts with the word pointed at Tobin, "But maybe not, because think about the vessel. I could be worrying for no good reason over that angle, not just because of what Byron's mentioned. It's the name and distant blood attachment that worries me, I guess. It'd help if we knew why the ghost picked Thomas-- you know, other than the safeguard idea he can hide behind the old lady and is supposedly drinky and maybe easy to get into."

Lilith knits her brows some and her shoulders set with small tension with the next bit before she's graciously reaching to take the cup of coffee, quick work made of that first danish split-adorned with fruit filling and cream cheese to free her hands, "Beings like myself should never be possessed, it's too dangerous, death can be instantaneous. So logically, the ghost probably wants to possess someone that can do horrible violence with power, from a distance, someone like me moreso than Alexander. I expect that Thomas Addington and I are... quite similarly inclined. And that's probably what Gohl was in life, himself, mm?"

Then she's listening at length to Isabella while taking a wander to look out of the windows and terrace doors at the picturesque view while blowing down into and sipping from the coffee, and though she's playing fine and dandy more or less, she seems to have too much pace and pent up energy to sit for the time being while talking about these things.

"Interesting. I would go to protect people while you look for details, as well, if you go slipping through... elsewhere." A pause and a look over her shoulder to Byron after that comment offer to Isabella, "Erin has spoken to them directly about this, or just been fishing?"

"Why three people?" Tobin asks, "You mentioned three specific people? Is that something the Archivist told you? That three specific people have to do something to put him in some kind of magical box?" He is a little hazy on where the specific number of people came from, and on this magic box. He glances between Lilith, Byron, and Isabella, as though any one of them might have the answer. He then finally eats the macaron that's been sitting there for a while now, taking a bite from it. He nods slowly as Isabella talks about Minerva and her help in the past. "Do we know what she did?" he asks her, but then falls quiet as she continues to explain about the bones. When Lilith starts to talk about Gohl possibly having abilities like hers, he nods, "That seems to track, and would make sense. Though does he need the abilities of the vessel? Or can he just use his own once he's inhabiting one?" That seems to also be a key question as to why he would choose one over another, or not.

The little bit of humor which Isabella decides to toss out does bring out a hint of a smirk on Thorne's lips, "Then you really don't know me very well, Izzy." Taking a sip of his own cooling coffee, he'll add, "I don't mind watching." For the most part, he's probably joking about some of this if not all of it.

As he's no occultist, he doesn't say much about what Minerva can do, leaving it up to Isabella to work that out. The other things, "So we're going to be rummaging through the Carr family's stuff, looking for a possible coffin, which I don't know, if it's of correct size and shape of an actual coffin would stand out like a sore thumb. But I'll help." He says, nevermind that he's still healing, but Lilith did a knock out job on all five of those ribs. "I'll even go with you to the other side if you think it would help. No use doing nothing when someone else could die at any moment." Including during this conversation that they are having!

He looks to Lilith, then back at Isabella, "What did you tell Erin to ask, Bella? about the Three? About the box?" He's not quite sure because that information did not come out until after their last meeting.

Now to Tobin's inquiry and both of brows lift, "That's what Clayton got out of Gohl's mind. The group doing the seance were the wrong Three. I'm not sure in what context or why Gohl would be thinking that or why it would be a part of his consciousness. Clayton would know more and... have yet to speak to him about it. I was supposed to have visited him at the hospital yesterday." Another look is given his watch, before he looks to Isabella directly, "How is Clayton?"

"My mistake, Ronnie." Said every so sweetly, and with such exaggerated innocence that it's a miracle that the FBI isn't breaking down his door at this very moment to pin her down in handcuffs. "Now that you're all classy and expensive, I figured you'd be prone to the vapors."

Lilith gets a grin. "I thought you would," Isabella says. "If such an expedition should happen, we'd definitely need a few frontliners to look out for the thinkers." The reminder of her own inability, at the moment, to venture further into the Veil wipes traces of that levity off her features, however, and she glances down at her danish. "It's probably not something I can come with. The Veil...doesn't agree with me." Or rather, she doesn't agree with it at the moment; frustration bleeds into her features there, and she has difficulty meeting everyone else's eyes - to proud, perhaps, to admit a certain degree of cowardice, too frightened to make a few necessary confessions. "I'll only be a liability if I go. But I can at least help put together a To-Do list, and a plan of attack." However good that will do us, anyway.

Tobin's question gets a shake of her head. "When Alexander rooted around the Ghoul's mind, he got the distinct impression that we were the wrong three to trap him - that means Minerva, Alexander and myself. Which stands to reason, according to Mister Clayton, that there is a right three people. Byron has a theory that, considering it was the Addingtons that have been keeping him at bay for half a century since his bones were disinterred, that these three people will probably need to be of Addington blood. Alexander doesn't believe that, necessarily, but honestly, from my perspective, it's a good place to start as any. As for what Minerva did? Some kind of esoteric magic - I can't tell you, I'm not exactly an expert. Alexander can probably recognize it, but I've nary a clue." She pauses. "There's been experiments - with a capable enough reader, you can form a bridge between two or more people and link up abilities. But as Lilith demonstrated the other night, sometimes that isn't necessary." She glances at the woman, and a small smile tilts up the corners of her mouth. "She's a bit of an outlier, though, in both power and experience."

Rummaging the Carrs' stuff? There's a shake of her head. "Doctor Faust's things," she replies. "I don't know how much help it would be digging further into the Carr family and what they know. We already asked about that in that group interview with her, and Rebecca was very specific about how her family isn't much help with this endeavor. As for what I asked Erin to ask Margaret and Thomas, I asked about what this was all about, if not the bones, why it took them this long before they decided on possibly committing Thomas. What Thomas' connection is to William Gohl - basically why him. Erin's extremely smart, also. I'm sure she's also asked some additional questions on top of our own. I'm sure Hyacinth had some questions as well, and maybe Erin asked them. We have no way of knowing until she gets back to us." Her expression tightens. "We're asking so much of her," she remarks, quietly. "I understand that she must be feeling the strain, but it still doesn't change the fact that confronting her relatives about this might not be easy."

With Byron inquiring about Alexander, she takes a breath. "He was discharged today, as far as I know. He's probably resting in his own residence now, though knowing him, he's probably ecstatic about being out and able to tackle this at full strength again."

"I'd know if I saw him, or others could attest to it that have seen him." Lilith mentions to Tobin when it comes to Thomas being in a way only when possessed, or naturally so. Mostly, though, Lilith is listening and continuing to stare out of the windows and terrace doors with her coffee cup held between two hands while listening at extreme length, brows still ticked down with pensive knitting.

"I could threaten Margaret Addington to lock up her brother immediately or send him away and promise alternative consequences if she doesn't comply. I'm not sure how well that would go. But listen. I've been possessed before, and..." Good god, if she happens to end up killing Thomas and that ghost jumps into her... it's not something she's too worried about or wants to entertain too much, but all the same, it's happened before, her out of her mind and flinging power everywhere.

Suddenly she turns around from the window to look soberly at all of the others, "You have to kill me or remove me in some way if that ghost decides I'm powerful enough to take up stead inside. I don't know if it will happen, but... I also don't know my mother, at all, or what the other name in my blood is. So anything is possible and I will not be a murder puppet. The Bridge was bad enough with close calls." And she's dead serious about killing her, it's all over her fine features, making them dire instead of delicate.

But then she changes subject real quick after that disclaimer, squinting at Isabella suddenly, "Are there any pictures of Gohl since people know who he was in life? Any details about his life and acquaintances? Hell, maybe the man was a polygamist and has three descendants. How many... women were in that picture you were talking about at the cafe? It wasn't three, was it? No, it was six, right?"

Serial killers, very much like witchcraft and magic, are not Byron's forte but he does take out his phone to Google the killer's name. He's a prominent murderer within their state, if not their town, after all. "This is what he looks like." He leans over to show her William Gohl's mug. "What you're suggesting is what Captain de la Vega was hoping to do." This is said to Winslow. "What he'd asked me to recruit people to help with. But most everyone who I'd spoken to seem opposed to it. Well, opposed to the possibility of having Thomas Addington killed."

There's a careful look which he gives Lilith when she speaks of this fear of being possessed again, he's about to say something, but remembers that she really doesn't know who her mother was, unlike the rest of them. "With how many Baxters there are in town, under various last names," he knows that it's far more impossible to have bastard Addingtons, "I wouldn't be surprised. Gohl's killed the parents and family members of so many and you're the last in your own family, Lil." Her father taken out around the same time as some of these others, but that was not Gohl's doing.

When Lilith brings up this picture, though he wasn't there when it was shared to her, he remembers it well enough. Now he looks to Isabella, "That.. wouldn't have anything to do with Gohl would it? The witch killing? Because there were three families present there, three families whose women were sacrificed. Unfortunately, neither you nor Clayton represented one of those families despite the bloodline."

At this news that Alexander was just released today, Thorne nods. "Good." Though as she is able to relay to him what Alexander had told her, Byron may have no need to speak to the other man himself.

Her expression tightens when Lilith puts forth the possibility of being possessed. "I'm sure there'll be creative solutions around that'll keep us from doing that even if the worst happens, Lil," Isabella says, quietly. That is a prospect that she is not ready to contemplate right now, it is difficult enough as it is to think about Erin and Hyacinth having to agree to more deaths in their family to put this issue to bed. And she's not about to entertain the possibility in front of Byron, either, not to mention her own growing friendship and regard for her fellow brunette. "I'm not in this for more people to die." She stands up from the couch at that, so she can refill her own cup of coffee - how many has she had, now?

With the picture brought up, she turns back to her friends, her cup in her hand. "There were eight women," she muses. "But from three families. I pointed that out to Alexander, because that was the only time the number three was in any way significant that I came across, and we were already looking into the mysteries regarding my mother's family before this Ghoul business started. It might be connected, but Alexander was very certain that Gohl doesn't think any of his kin are a threat - so that includes him, and that includes me, and the two of us are directly descended from the family's two main branches - Alexander comes from the matrilineal line, from Elizabeth Baxter, and I'm descended from the patrilineal line, Lindon Baxter, the preacher, and they were the only two children that we know of the original Baxter couple who settled in Gray Harbor. I don't think the Baxters are part of the three, which is why I'm more inclined to believe above anything that Addington blood is the key. At the moment, it's all just guesswork, mind, but it's a logical direction to look at."

"Right. Right." Lilith murmurs to Byron's commentary on the Captain's own planning with a couple of blinks and her features taking a turn toward consideration. Then she's on the move, talking to Isabella while she does so.

"Well. Alternatively. It's like I told Byron yesterday too, there's about three things I know about when it comes to powers, more or less-- mindbangers, pushers, and... people like me. So it might be less about blood and more about talents required, in the end, if it's about binding and construction or... whatever else. I can't think of another form of significance when it comes to threes." Lilith says after making a pensive hum noise at Isabella, finally putting her emptied coffee cup down on the coffeetable to come look at the picture that Byron pulls up on his phone with lean, reaching a hand up to tuck some hair behind an ear as she studies it for a long, long time considering it's just a picture. Maybe if she can envision who the ghost was... she can reach out and...

Lilith draws in a sharp little breath through her nose and straightens suddenly after eyeing Byron instead of the picture, his familiar dark eyes, his very feature lines, his posture on the couch. Then she picks up her cup to carry to the sink, detouring to give Isabella a kissing smack alongside the face as overdue promise for the initial fill up in the drinking vessel. When it's dropped off there, she goes to sit down finally, edging in next to the man and Dog, bidding his arm in sling over her while her face is overtly pensive.

Byron will make no comment on Lilith ever being possessed. They'd encountered that before. Hell, three people in this room were being influenced by that ring. It was an item though. An object. Not a ghost.

"Why kill Baxters though?" It's a question which had come to Byron's mind time and time again. He could understand the Addingtons being slaughtered, by why his Gohl's own kin? "There's no kinship felt towards any of you, his descendants or... the descendants of his blood. Was there no pride in him when he came face to face with someone directly descended from him?" Alexander Clayton. "His own bloodline."

"If not the three families sacrificed, then three Addingtons." But there were so many Addingtons, it would be difficult to choose the correct three. "I wonder if it could be someone outside of either bloodline completely." His eyes flicker to Isabella, "I hope... that we get some answers to these questions. Do the Addingtons, Margaret and Thomas know of the three. What does that even mean to them, if anything."

With Lilith now joining him and Dog, his face soften to afford her a smile, his arm easily coaxed to drape over her shoulders giving the arm furthest from him a squeeze. "Let's hope we hear from Erin soon."

Three powers? Isabella blinks over at Lilith and that idea, too, has her falling in silent contemplation. She silently counts with her fingers after that, her mind unable to help but be drawn back to her twin and his genius; the things he can do, his wide breadth of talents. Her eyes cast over to Lilith and how she burns like a planetary core, and Byron's colder, more distant light, and thinks about Captain de la Vega's own strangely shattered aura. She moves back further, to Alexander's own potential - always and forever wedged somewhere in her thoughts, as if he's managed to make a home there, and watching Minerva sitting across from her. Thomas and Margaret Addington, too, especially the latter, and how beyond brilliantly she shone.

"That's possible too," she begins. "...no, probable. Perhaps even both. The right blood and the right talents. Minerva and Alexander are both readers. I'm a mover....mostly. We didn't have anyone like Lilith in the seance." There's a slight frown, a tic of her fingers, but she shakes her head from those thoughts. "Or if we scrap that possibility entirely, maybe all this needs is the right talents, and the right level of talent, but who also aren't Baxters." She would have easily sunk herself further in her thoughts, roused from them only by the passing cheek-kiss from the other woman. There's a blink in her direction, followed by a faint grin, mischief lighting up her eyes and pressing an air-kiss in her general direction. Mwah.

But Byron asks the million dollar question, in the end, and she exhales quietly. "Honestly, at this point? I don't know. A lot of what we do next is going to be dependent, I think, on what Erin manages to pry out of her relatives. But it is possible - I know Alexander's contemplated the same, that it might not be Addingtons, or even just Addingtons. Lilith's idea definitely has some merit since that's also three....aspects?" She furrows her brows. Sid was always better in making up terms for this than she ever was.

With the other woman looking pensive, she flashes her a curious look, and a slight tilt of her head. Brows lift upwards in silent inquiry.

"You know. It's a little baffling to me that... Margaret is just letting this happen to her own kin. I mean sure, protect your brother, but possession isn't constant and he has to live with these things he's doing. That and when people start figuring out its him, there's going to be consequences and... there's some that even she can't possibly think herself above. Not to mention, wouldn't it just be easier to put him away or send him elsewhere to protect him... rather than protect him against what people in this town could theoretically do to retaliate, what the Captain could threaten for being in the know? It's... almost like she has stakes in seeing people eliminated. Maybe I've watched too many television family dramas and I just imagine all rich people that way, but that screams narcissistic sociopath to me. And if a personality type was ever going to make a deal with a devil..."

Lilith pushes her tongue hard against the point of an eyetooth with digging pressure while sitting for a moment, her head drifting with shake and a bare knit of her brows, "I don't know, something seems off, other than the sheer... you know, murder and mystery of everything. Like something is... missing about the motivations or directive all around. I don't expect a ghost to be rational and logical, so much, but are they even bothering to cover their own asses at this point? Or are they just hiding behind the goddamn ghost?" Conspiracy theory, ahoy. Leaning some into Byron's tender and healing body at rest on the couch, her shoulders hitch up some under the sling of his arm and she absently reaches a hand to boop Dog's nose like it's a real animal there in his lap for the sake of kicks.

"I don't know. I don't think I have all the ammo to try and fit pieces, anyway. Sounds like you need to talk to Erin as soon as possible, though, and that we should try something instead of trying to figure out the exact right way to do it. Because..." The woman looks aside at Byron before shifting some and slipping one hand behind his back, the other gently reaching across his midsection for arm-slung, possessive curl for dramatic effect, "I kind of want to put him on a leash and keep him with me now." She's serious, though, despite that dramatic gesture and quiet quip of jest about putting him on a leash to drag around instead of Dog, just for the sake of keeping an eye on the very air around the man.

It hadn't escaped her that yes, he's alive and it was an 'almost' but the Coroner was an almost too... until she wasn't.

This discussion of the Three soon turns to ability sets. Byron felt that there were three different types of powers, but with how varied some of these were, it was difficult to tell if there really were three or if whether there were more. "Are there really just the three?" Not being a spiritualist, he can't gauge anything about the other aspects rather than those with his skill set. He only hears of the things various people can do. "If that's the case, then it would make sense." Reclining back into his seat, he mentions just what Isabella does now, "We just need to find the right combination of three."

With Lilith's inquiry about Thomas being committed to the Facility, Byron bites down at his lower lip, his features looking thoughtful, "I don't think anyone wants to be placed there. They run tests on you and try to make you comply to whatever Their thinking is. Normally, what people considered crazy in town, those were the people sent to the Facility." He then murmurs, "I'm surprised that Clayton didn't find himself there along with all the other children. Must've had supportive parents." He knows nothing about Alexander Claytons life, only what he'd heard from his own father.

"If anything, I'd think Thomas were afraid to be sent there. Rightfully so, but... Vivian is still investigating that and eventually, we'll learn more about the place and what they do to their patients." It does make Byron consider Ruiz's words, just as Lilith boops the stuffed animal's nose, bringing a light snicker out of him, but then he hears that she wants to drag him around on a leash... This brings out even more laughter, "I don't think I'd be entirely opposed." He says, wearing that smile, "As kinky as it all sounds." Or due to that fact.

There's a nod to Lilith's direction. "I don't think anyone would think you're off thinking that," Isabella tells her, quietly. "It stands to reason that Margaret might have her own agenda, and I felt the same way, Lil. When I asked for another copy of the photograph to give to a distant cousin, I told Alexander that I felt that there was something almost Faustian about this. That was when he told me about how he suspected the Facility was a way to feed people with the Talent to Them." The word is pushed through between her teeth, feeling the urge to lock her limbs at the idea of the Shadows, the idea of them feeding. Her breath arrests within her lungs, but she forces herself to exhale. "Not to mention that there are things, apparently, in the saw mill that they've spent no expense protecting from outsiders, and we know from Hyacinth Addington that was where she lost her leg."

She's already mentioned the place to Lilith and her gaze holds onto the other woman's near-violet eyes, before she takes another sip of her coffee.

"We also have to remember that whatever Erin brings back to us, we're probably going to need to take with a grain of salt. I don't trust Margaret or Thomas Addington - we already contemplated the very real probability that they'll only give us enough of what we need for us to be used as pawns for their own purposes, and Margaret certainly has a vested interest in keeping Thomas out of a place where Shadows feed, if Alexander is right about the purpose of the asylum. Personally, at this point, I'm all for being used, if it means stopping this once and for all, but we definitely can't forget that we're dealing with people who are extremely comfortable in their place in Gray Harbor, and confident in their idea that it is theirs to save or ruin as they will, no matter who they toss into the grinder. But I agree. We have to try something, and now, even if it means going back over there and punching holes in the ground looking for the original box that held him so we can create a new one for that sonuvabitch."

Byron's remarks about the Facility has her attention tilting that way, though she still looks tense at the idea of anyone going across to investigate it, especially from what she knows of Alexander's own suspicions. But his remarks about children being placed there has her nodding again. "He did," she tells him. "Not that they could help him, which makes me believe that neither of them had the Talent, so he didn't have much guidance in his childhood. That goes for most people I know." Lilith and Byron counted among them. She had been luckier than most - she had her parents, with Irene being Talented herself, and bursting with potential, and she had been bonded completely with her genius twin brother, up until he disappeared her junior year - and Lilith and Byron's senior year - in high school.

Watching the two of them laugh together has her smiling ruefully, before she slips out her phone again and takes a look at the time. "Anyway, speaking of next steps, I should probably get to my appointment. I'll keep the both of you posted." She walks over, so she could gently ruffle Byron's hair, and offer Lilith a hug. "Be safe, both of you."

Lilith unwraps her arms from around Byron to lean forward and reach up into Isabella's parting hug after a long moment of deeply considering her words when it comes to the Facility and Byron's words too. The limbs wrap around the other female with a bit of a tight squeeze despite them not knowing each other all that well because some things are just bonding and... face it, she hasn't had many adult friends in life and who knows what's going to happen to whom next. So she squeezes on the appreciation and fondness before the other woman goes, "Be safe, you. Gonna figure something out. Check in with me later, just in case, because I'm paranoid now and I like you, you little sparkplug, you. Give Alexander my regards."

Something. What, Lilith isn't sure of at this point, but after a look aside at Byron once the woman has disentangled from the embrace to take her leave for appointment, she wets her lips and slips her arm behind his back between him and the couch again to resume that possessive curl of hold without an ounce of shame or reserve about it. Boundaries? Fuck boundaries, she's Lilith and he's Byron and in this place, they go together, even when apart in more than a few different ways.

Then once the other woman is at the door, she murmurs up and aside to Byron, dry with humor, "... you have no idea what you're agreeing to when you say you're okay with a leash, babydoll. I'm basically a professional and can do it with your tie." She pauses, explaining quietly and more seriously then, gauging his face, "You seemed to be sleeping okay when I had to leave, yesterday. I would have stayed to explain better so you wouldn't have to say as much when you woke and stayed, but..."

But living arrangement details had her bolting with the quickness given how she was feeling inside once it wasn't just him and her anymore. Especially considering what happened right before he dozed off after.

"Y'know. Would have been kind of weird to sit here like a guard dog once you weren't alone anymore or watch someone else pet you in your sleep with concerned panic."

What Isabella relays to Lilith is something that Byron had been told before through Vivian, but perhaps she used different wording. He doesn't have much more to add to it, all of his information being second or third hand news. It doesn't make him feel any more comforted when told that even what Erin brings back to them, they would need to sift through all of that because Margaret Addington is not to be trusted, but all he can do is pinch at the bridge of his nose with his free hand as he considers how to best sort through the bullshit.

That exasperated hand slowly withdraws just as Reede mentions Alexander, more so his parents, and how supportive they were despite being unable to be supportive enough due to their lack of knowledge of those that shine. Even when she mentions other children similarly lacking the guidance necessary, he knows how powerful Clayton's abilities are. How brightly he shone. Even without his parents support, did it really matter? Then his mind goes back to his own parents. He'd always thought that his father could read his mind, but he's not as sure of himself in that regard anymore. Was it his father? Or was it him all that time?

As Reede is planning her departure, you'd think Byron would be more concerned with her mussing up his hair, especially with how much care he often puts into styling it. Today, however, he wasn't planning on going anywhere, so his hair is unstyled and ungelled as it is and the woman's action only brings out this wide smile from him. "I'll keep in touch, Bella. Thanks for stopping by with breakfast." Then Lilith mentions Alexander, just as Thorne's gaze follows behind his friend and high school rival. Early on, he knew that something strange was going on between Alexander and Isabella, now this was more than concerned and it still baffled him. Bella could do so much better than Crazy Clayton. It's not something that he'd voiced to her yet, but it something that's been on his mind ever since he came to the odd realization that they were an item. Clayton had absolutely no style at all and looked homeless most of the time. That's a bad look for Isabella, or anyone, in his eyes.

"You know," He'll just say it out loud now, "She could do so much better." The front door is already closed and yet his gaze continues to idly stare, though it's probably not the door that he's paying any attention to.

Feeling Lilith's hold around his midsection, the tenderness at his chest feels sore, but not as much as it did the day prior. Alas, as he's dressed more casually today, he's without his dress shirt and tie, but that doesn't stop him from saying, smiling in soft amusement at her, "You're going to have to catch me on my good days then." When he's all dressed up with so many places to go. "Lil, I know I told you yesterday, but... thanks. Thanks for everything. I'm not even sure what I would've done if you hadn't shown up." There's truthfulness in his voice and only gives a hint of his own vulnerability. "Without decent pain meds," Is he dissing her medication? "It felt so much better to just sleep, but... I just had this worry in the back of my mind that it wasn't over. That whoever did this would return. Thank god they didn't."

"I know. I'm sorry I couldn't take all the pain, but... sometimes it's what lingers to remind us that we're very alive. I'm glad you called me first. You..." Lilith keeps it pretty simple and quietly sweet after that thanks and she doesn't comment on how much better or not better Isabella could do, she just kind of eyes the doorway with consideration. The woman has her own man problems and honestly, she might not be in a very good place to be commenting on others' relationship choices fairly or wisely. She just knows that sometimes 'better' isn't 'best' and she thinks about that for a tick before carrying on with her sentence to look at Byron with consideration.

Her eyes take a wander over his body in close and gradually, she unlaces her arm from that hold to drag one of her hands gently over one side of his ribcage, across his abdomen flatted with solid and lean musculature until she reaches the other side of his ribs to caress. There's a pensive, kind of far away look in her eyes as she does it and she watches her hand's motion in doing so, lashes lowered away from viewing his face, "You make me want to reach into the pieces of myself I'm so afraid of. When it's you... there's no other options. There's just life and light without the fear because it's what your body needs. And it's what... I need. I don't know how to do all of this life without you. Not here."

Lilith swallows down a touch thickly before she puts her head in to rest against Byron and shifts her hand to unlatch the silly collar and leash from Dog in his lap for her to toss over the back of the couch for retrieving later, "I can't believe I bought those for a fake dog just to make you laugh. And no, I didn't drag it in through the lobby that way, it was in my bag."

Though there's still some semblance of pain and tenderness, Byron doesn't seem to mind any of that at all. Not even at the slight discomfort that he feels when Lilith gently touches at various areas on his athletically lean frame, though he watches her, chin lowered. It's hard to say that anticipating when a tender section will be touched is better than not knowing that the touch was coming at all. But he watches and observes and can already feel the pressure placed upon the tenderness before any contact is made. There truly was something thrilling about all of this as with that pain came a soothing comfort that only a pair of loving hands could conjure up.

With her hovering near him, one of his own hands reaches out to brush several dark locks away from her face, before cupping at the side of her face. He's trying to direct her attention to him to meet with his gaze, his own expression showing some concern. "You're learning then, how to better channel your powers through me. From what Bella said, you really helped Clayton heal. He's out of the hospital as it is." That concern still reflected in his eyes, he graces her with a smile. A genuine smile, "I knew that you had it in you. I only wish that I could do for you what you're forced to do for me." This wasn't the only time that she'd healed him, but this was the worst condition that she'd ever seen him in.

His attention shifting back to Dog, that smile grows on his face, "You don't know the kinds of people who live in this building. Sure, they have money, but most of them are quirky as fuck. A stuffed husky being dragged along on a leash shouldn't disturb them too much."

Then he falls quiet, his eyes never leaving her vision, the broad grin fading slowly away. "We need to put a stop to Gohl. Captain de la Vega keeps asking if I have a new plan. Aside from what's already been said here? I don't. Nothing that will move any of this along faster."

Lilith nudges her face with small tilted shift into Byron's cupping hand to draw her eyes to him once her hair is knocked away from her brow and cheeks, and after looking at his proud smile in what she was able to do for him, what she's internally hurdled to be able to do for Alexander... she feels a little less like a destroyer of everything and something more like... capable. Her lashes lower into momentary close of her eyes while her cheek and jaw is nestled into the feel of his hand and when they re-open, they cut aside in brief to Dog as his smile broadens, a twitch of something like a smile at her own lips.

Capable. Capable of terrible things, all to keep him safe. She could say it's for the greater good, to keep others safe, and maybe it's good motivation too, but... really, what she's deep down capable of, it's all for Byron. As he goes gradually serious and voices concern, she grazes her bottom lip with her teeth, then turns her face a little more to kiss into his palm before speaking. And the words are soft and serious, eyes coming back to his for gauging as she asks.

"I know it's not... a favorable or popular opinion, but... how do you really feel about Thomas being taken out of the picture to see how it hinders the terrible progress the Ghoul has been making? Because if I could work with the Captain to potentially scare either of them by threatening the other... to push them into taking the steps that need taken to help you survive... I might be in a way to deliver on that promise and they might well see that and consider it, legal threats combined."

"I'm concerned that it won't be that easy. Otherwise, I would say to go for it." Byron says truthfully, no matter how harsh those words are. "Captain de la Vega is concerned too, I'm sure. Which is why he hadn't tried to do it himself. However, I don't want him to use you," Or himself, "To do this dirty work. I know that he's not afraid to do it. He whole-heartedly wants to, but he knows he can't do it alone. If this fails, the Addingtons have a lot that they can do against us. Taking true legal action, because besides de la Vega being there, there's nothing by the books about any of this."

Lilith can feel some of that tension in his hand, but he doesn't press harshly against her cheek, along her jaw.

"With Margaret Addington, I know that I'm out of my league. Who knows what she's capable of doing. I don't know how many the Captain believes he'll need to see this through. And if it doesn't work?" Yet, he nearly died yesterday. The fact that this person wasn't planning on killing him is just hard to fathom with these other murders. "If I was sure that it would work, I would've agreed to it in a heartbeat. But I don't want to put you at risk or... have you do anything that you will regret."

"... okay. But if people can't figure out an alternative with a certain amount of fire lit under them and you end up hurt... there's going to be multiple someones catching on fire and splitting open at the seams." Lilith tells Byron with a certain amount of appreciative acceptance for the way he explains the way he feels and the logic involved in his opinion despite it. She can't really argue with any of it and she knows it comes with risk of ire pointed right at her if it all goes wrong or sideways, which it may well do, in fairness. But she also knows if he's hurt again by this.. this... invisible brutality, there will be no more control, no more rationality. Some things are just inevitable and it's just the way she's made.

"I suppose looking on the other side is the quickest step we could theoretically take, though it may be a waste of time that could be spent looking into something else. But this is all risk here, at this point, and maybe answers start where the old root is after all. I'm sure Isabella will waste no time in arranging for it since it's one solid idea we'd be able to execute. Probably. To what ends, I don't know. But it is something." The woman reaches her own hand out then with her face still semi-tilted to his continued touch, hand at drift over his chest with shirt skimming and tickle of grazing before her fingers fan up over his collarbone to the man's throat, fingertips feeling the echo beat of his pulse in wash.

"I'll inquire with the Captain. If he can come up with a sound plan on how to best approach this, then I may consider." Byron falls quiet, then adds in, "He knows that we're doing would be illegal. It's why we've never mentioned it directly in any of our conversations. And though this was his idea, it's hard to think that if it ever came up, that he would use this against either of us. I can't say that I trust him. He's a cop. And apparently, besides his heart being in the right place, he's a corrupt cop."

That grin returns, "I know Bella enough. She's not going to waste any time in putting our teams together. I just wish that there was more that I could do to help, especially in light of what happened to me."

When her hand drifts up across his chest to place fingertips upon the side of his throat to feel the rhythm of his hear beating, Byron watches her with such fond eyes. His heart beat was strong and steady and in his mind, it beat to the same rhythm as her own. Oh so slowly, he leans in towards her, carefully closing the distance between the two of them. So close that he his chin brushes against the dark bangs.

He knows that he should probably spend the remainder of the day in rest, but there was so much to be done. "It's really hard just sitting around and waiting for Erin to get back to us." Then he comes out and says what Isabella had mentioned, "If I was just a warning to the group, which is why my life was spared, this needs to end quickly before Gohl realizes that his threat did not work." As nice as it is to just sit here, taking comfort in Lilith's presence, he knows that lives are at stake, possibly even his own again. "We could finish breakfast. I can heat up more coffee if you want." This is followed by a sigh, "Then we can put together some kind of course of action as we wait. If there's something that we're missing, I want to find out what it is."

"Yeah. I could stand more carbs and caffeine. Can I take your coffee machine apart and put it back together again to see how the press works?" Lilith murmurs with answer and inquiry after listening to Byron, her head tipping into his closeness after watching him. Is she serious about wanting to take his fancy espresso machine apart right now given how distracted her voice is there for a moment? Well, probably. But...

The woman reaches with her other arm to loop around Byron for a long gradual press of her own body to gentle press of hug while her other hand stays in place with her fingers fanned out and curling a touch. After nudging the bridge of her nose up against his bearded chin with upward angle of her face into his lean, she buries her face into the other side of his neck during the hugging hold. Even without gripping tight, it has a semblance of desperation about it, a seep and creep of her anxiety and paranoia and fear over finding him attacked so, especially after he mentions the possibility of it all being a failed warning shot.

She stays like that a while, in no hurry for either of them to move, but eventually they do. And after they eat from the remaining variety pastries Isabella brought along and have more coffee... she puppy dog eyes her way into taking that machine apart as they bide time for Erin's call and talk. She's much better at putting things back together than she used to be. It's probably fine.