2019-09-04 - Scrolling Backwards
Lilith texts to check on Byron and ends up reliving the starting history of their reacquaintance on her phone.
IC Date: 2019-09-04
OOC Date: 2019-06-19
Location: Harbor Mist - Loft
Related Scenes: None
Plot: None
Scene Number: 1459
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: IMG: Dog is wearing three thick gold chains and little wrapped tennis bracelets with precious stones on his plush paws.
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: This is what I get for taking him to your place-- he's boujee now.
(TXT to Lilith) Byron: I thought Dog was a boy. He should be wearing a gold watch or something.
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: You're the one who put a bra on his head. So...
(TXT to Lilith) Byron: Did I? I thought he was just a dirty dog.
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: He's probably that too. I bet he's sad when our sleepovers are boring to watch and we just sleep.
(TXT to Lilith) Byron: But we're sexy when asleep. I can attest to that. Not that I'm peeking or anything.
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: I agree. At least, I think, I can't see myself al cheek-smushed, but I've totally watched you sleeping like a creeper.
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: Good, I like it that way. How's your day? Speaking of sexy bodies, are you walking tall again?
(TXT to Lilith) Byron: Geoff is here. Though we're finishing up our consultation. I've taken him on as my security adviser.. yes, you heard that right.
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: Hmmm.
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: Takes a criminal to know how criminals criminal, I imagine.
(TXT to Lilith) Byron: Something like that. He broke up with Erin Addington.
(TXT to Lilith) Byron: Or, she dumped him.
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: How's he taking it?
(TXT to Lilith) Byron: He probably thinks he dodged a bullet after how that all ended, but I think he still cares for her. They are friends now, supposedly.
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: I was a little worried she was 'slumming' and he'd get hurt. So friends is good, I guess. Supposedly.
(TXT to Lilith) Byron: He told her that he felt she wasn't good enough for her and she freaked out is what I'm hearing.
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: Weird. It's a natural worry since she's... y'know, name and money and he's an ex-con from the trailers. That was going to, you know, be a thing that crept up, nothing to flip out over. But mm. She's had a time of it, seems.
(TXT to Lilith) Byron: I never thought it would've worked out. But, I was hoping that Geoff could look out for her since she's a possible target.
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: ... yeah, he'd be handy to have in proximity if shit hit the fan. I avoided leashing you today.
(TXT to Lilith) Byron: Leashing? You'd have to be here to do that.
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: Fair point. I should just do it.
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: I guess I can control the urge, though. Did you hear from Erin?
(TXT to Lilith) Byron: I'd take you up on your offer but Geoff's still here. And yes, I did hear from Erin actu8ally.
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: I'll remember you said that. But Erin-- Good news, bad news or inconclusive?
(TXT to Lilith) Byron: She has doubts that her grandmother is willing to commit her brother, but they know they are running out of time. I believe Thomas Addington mentioned something about the fountain and needing to drain it. That it would be cleaner than drowning him in the bathtub. Erin didn't take it well.
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: I guess she would have taken me running over to murder one worse, then. Good to know, I guess. Maybe.
(TXT to Lilith) Byron: Captain de la Vega believed that one of us (himself or myself) should be there to make sure that it happened. He wasn't willing on doing so alone. We'll see what the others found out about the box. Or whatever is needed to trap him.
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: I guess my floor can handle a little more pacing.
(TXT to Lilith) Byron: (After a lengthy moment) Try not to worry yourself, alright? It makes me a little nervous being in my own apartment. Whoever attacked me knows where I live.
(TXT to Lilith) Byron: I'll swing by at your place at some point. After I finish up some business.
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: So when you're able, come over?
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: Okay, good.
When Lilith is finished with their text conversation, she scrolls back up to where it all started in her messages, back in spring when she had been back in town only a few weeks. She had found him and dared what she thought would feel like impossible. She reached out.
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: Let's assume for a moment there's a set of monkey bars right in front of you. And let's also assume you're inclined to be a monkey in a whim of casting off adulthood. But do you A: Try to swing from them the normal way and end up hanging there until you drop? B: See how fast you can plow across them, still. Or C: Crawl up to sit on top of them all like the king of the world?
(TXT to Lilith) Byron: It's unsettling to get inquiries like this out of the blue from an unknown sender. While I have nothing against you, personally. I shut my door to Scientologists. Even if, from what I've heard, you do make bank.
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: What if I disclose my status as a 'hot chick'? Will you grab the handles of my official Xenu E-Meter and spill for all you're worth?
(TXT to Lilith) Byron: I'm a little skeptical, I gotta admit. I'd need proof of that first.
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: Proof, huh. I suppose I could send you the lady equivalent of a dick pic. But see, I'm undeterred. I've deduced your actual answer prior to this conversation. I thought about Option A for a moment, decided the local paper ad doesn't paint you as old and fat, so that one's out. Option B is the most likely, but you're grown now, so I'd probably have to challenge you to get results. Option C is probably the winner, but heavily dependent on one factor: whether or not I'm sitting up there, begging you to pretend it's a balcony view to another place with me while our legs dangle through the bars. When we're up there, we make up stories about being someone or somewhere else one day.
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: But then, who needs monkey bars when you have real balconies now? And who needs stories, besides? You seem to have the things you always wanted. Have you caught on, yet?
(TXT to Lilith) Byron: People rarely send text messages to me this long. Only if they are trying to formulize and sometimes finalize a business plan when they should have tossed out an email instead. I can't say say that I'm not intrigued. You almost remind me of someone. A ghost from my past, but couldn't be.
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: It's probably fair that I stop being coy. There are, after all, unspoken soft limits that keep this cute instead of tedious. I saw one of your apartment ads in the local paper a couple weeks or so ago and made a post-it with your number to have uncounted procrastination sessions with.
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: Hi. It's Lilith.
(TXT to Lilith) Byron: That's a name I hadn't heard in a while. But it's the first name that came to mind. I didn't realize that you were back in town or I would've visited. How have you been?
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: That's actually hard to answer, because coming from you, I want to tell the truth instead of the easy niceties. But it's also hard to summarize. So let's put things this way: I can run off and grow and change, but Dad never will. The man sings a very unpretty siren song that sounds like Kentucky Black, fried Spam, and ten thousand excuses. So here I am.
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: You, though, you seem to be doing quite fine. I think I'm proud of you.
(TXT to Lilith) Byron: Lilith. Are you and your father in any trouble?
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: Yes. In the name of fairness and full disclosure, I doubt we're about to get hit Sopranos style, but... my clean up job this time involves dealing directly with his debtors. He owes far more than the business and building is actually worth. And the fact that I'm not directly telling you who has us against a wall as a result probably says enough.
(TXT to Lilith) Byron: Ahh. Got it. That's... that's pretty rough. I can see what I can do if you like.
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: No. No... I feel like I need a disclaimer. I'm not contacting you because I see that you're money now or need help cleaning up or anything like that, please don't misunderstand. It might seem like that, as I'm reading and I realize how it looks and sounds. I actually... this is silly. But you know how sometimes you think about the paths your life could have taken... then you start feeling a little guilty about old stuff and wonder... what if?
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: That happened. I'm sorry I shut you out.
(TXT to Lilith) Byron: It's fine, alright? Look, we should talk, probably over drinks and we'll work something out. Or not. Whatever you want to do.
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: I'd like to see you and have drinks. If I was less awkward and more succinct, I might have started with that, since it was the end goal of punching in your number.
(TXT to Lilith) Byron: Great. Let me know when you're available. I'll definitely fit it into my schedule.
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: I'm actually closing up shop now, if you're unoccupied. But it is late, so I understand if another time makes more sense.
(TXT to Lilith) Byron: I have some time now. Finished up all the business that needed to be done. I had a call til past midnight last night, if you can believe that.
(TXT to Byron) Lilith: My place, your place, or... do we want to use an actual bar and pretend I found you to use like a screwboy on Tinder?
He got distracted and they didn't meet the first time at a bar or either of their places. They met in the middle of something strange and dangerous and time stopped somehow as they stared at each other, grown up over Tobin's prone form.
Lilith sighs to herself and jumps the texts back to current, sending an IMG from her phone of plush, stuffed Dog sitting in a pile of trash to dog shame. It's the small things sometimes, isn't it?
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