2019-09-11 - Baxters Are Not Corgis, Hya!

Hyacinth rides with Vyv in short order to the address texted.
Sadly, V, the dry cleaners will have to be tomorrow.

The home itself is a three story classic Victorian Gingerbread home circa 1890 and refinished to look as good or better as it had (or should have) day 1. The catch is there is always one room under construction. She steps in and gets to changing and swaps out glow-bones leg for the practical on. Ask her about the hidden compartments in it, she'd sure love to go on about those. Keys hit the kitchen counter with a splash and she stares at the coffee pot for a moment before digging all of the things out and squinting to Vyv. it's that unspoken Would you?? I'll be your best friiiiiend! this is his room, right?

She heads to the front of the house turning the parlor room into today's Dead Zone. Finding the others arriving she waves them in. "Coffee's starting." Not that Vyv was formally asked! "I'm going to finish getting changed so we can start."

Itzhak isn't paying attention to anything much, on the drive over. He's entirely inward-focused, the sense of his mind spinning at tens of thousands RPM, driving on instinct. When he comes in, he looks around rather blankly at the beautiful house. Then he suddenly can't tolerate the smell of millenia of menthol in his clothes and strips his shirt off in the middle of the living room. Then he's fumbling to unlace his boots, cursing, kicking his jeans off. Stripping down to his boxer briefs in front of God and everyone.

Rebecca was busy typing something on her phone the whole way over. The wheels have been turning in her head endlessly. She does stop to look at Itzhak with worried eyes now and then, and her hand reaches out to touch him, but hesitates just shy. What if she's what he gives up? She dragged him into this mess.

When they arrive at the house she steps out of the borrowed Outback and waves Itzhak inside as she stands on the porch to make a phone call. It's brief, and when she comes back in, her bodyguard/friend-with-benefits is mostly naked. She blinks a few times before moving to find a blanket or something to wrap the lanky man in.

Hyacinth already IS Vyv's best friend. Which, frankly, is probably why he actually does start making the coffee instead of pretending he didn't see the unspoken request. He's exhausted the immediate complaints about bureaucrats and the fact that smoke would rather stay in his suit than the other world (but really who could blame it given the choice) by the time they arrive, though no promises there isn't another wave of them waiting for later. He's just hit the button and started moving toward the parlour door when he sees Itzhak stripping down there, and he pauses, head tilting and one brow slightly arched as he watches this. "Well, I can't say I don't sympathise on that one." Probably for the smoke. Though maybe he just didn't like the outfit.

Hyacinth comes abck and as the rest of the lumber isn't here she stops, and sits, and waaaaatches the show. She asks however, "Is there a way to convince your fabric to rearrange it's particles? I saw a man pull a stain out of his shirt. THough if you're particularly fon of your suit, Vyyyyyyv," Her eyes slide his way and the faintest amusement comes to her face, "You can bury it." Gallows humor. Looking back to Itzhak she just lets the man quiet down and have his moment. "I have something for you if you need a moment to breathe, collect... " The offer hangs there open. Her eyes, green, sharp, and concerned find Rebecca, "And you."

Itzhak is all long, leanly muscled limbs and tattoos once he's down to his skivvies. He hugs Rebecca, uncaring of the blanket, his big lanky frame shivering despite the warm day. After a couple of moments he wipes his eyes. "Probably could," he mutters, "pull the smoke out, but I can't fuckin think." He blinks bloodshot at Vydal and Hyacinth, two people who couldn't, on the surface, be more different than him.

"Do you have somewhere we could maybe wash up? It might help to get the smoke out of our hair and just..." Rebecca looks around the room with a grimace, "Process what we just went through, and what is ahead of us."

Vyv glances down at his suit when Hyacinth mentions it, and sighs. "It's a particularly good suit," he says, and leans lightly against the jamb of the door, watching, and listening to the coffee percolate behind him. "I'm not sure if it qualifies as an appropriate sacrifice or not. I mean, any of them would be a sacrifice." Does he actually mean that? He might. There's no sign he's joking. "Do you know how he pulled the stain out? That seems... intriguing." He lifts an arm a bit, eyeing the sleeve that encases it thoughtfully, and helpfully if a bit absently adds, "The loo's down that way," pointing toward the nearest one. Despite it not being his house.

Hyacinth looks Rebecca over and seems to have sympathy on that. "I do. And something for you to change into." There's a small trip to the second floor which has a seating area there too. Marrow stairs for wide rooms. The bathroom is made available with the original clawfoot tub too. Hya's clothes are left for Bex with something from the I will dress like I jog but I have no intention to pile. Walking back Vyv gets a smoosh to teh cheek. "Still the best." Which is her thank you for coffee which is where she fancies herself until persons are put together.

Itzhak mutters thanks and vanishes down the hallway. A little while later he comes out, damp hair even curlier, smelling like expensive soap and shampoo. He's got his face back on, calmer and more in control. But he makes no move to put his clothes back on. Nope, everybody gets to look at him in snug black boxer briefs today. He hits the kitchen for coffee next, taking a looong too-hot sip and sighing. "Okay. Nu?"

Rebecca thanks Hyacinth quietly, and heads into the bathroom. She cleans herself up and changes into the clothing their hostess provided, pushing her wet hair back off her face. It's a little curly, without being blow-dried and styled as it usually is. Then she heads back to the parlor, following the scent of coffee. She looks exhausted. She gets a cup, and then sinks into a chair bonelessly.

At some point in this 'everyone going off a while' interlude, Vyv may or may not have attempted to remove smoke from his clothing by magic. If he did, it failed, and he's instead removed his jacket, which is neatly laid over one of the stools in the kitchen. It helps a little. Apparently he'd otherwise currently rather suffer residual smoke than strip, though he still isn't enjoying it. The mug of coffee he's gotten, though, he's enjoying, where he's claimed a comfortable seat in the parlour. He makes absolutely no complaint about Itzhak deciding to hang out in underwear even post-shower; maybe snug black boxer-briefs are on the Acceptable Apparel list. Anyway, there's worse scenery.

"Of course," he replies lightly to Hyacinth's words, more 'of course I'm the best' than 'of course, no problem', but she's probably the only one getting away with any smooshing. "So. Interesting visit today."

Hyacinth gets comfy at her lap table with coffee on hand and drawing where she's working on her blueprint and researching the era and design of the age on her phone. She lifts her hand and... nothing. Looking up there's a look of annoyance shared only by Bert of Bert & Ernie fame as she leeeeans to get ehr cup. Stupid null rooms mean also living like a civilian. Bah.

"Interesting. SOooooo Rebecca that means..." She looks to Vyv and there's that look where she doesn't squee but she may. She may. "I believe that may mean you're relation may be my personal assistant. There's some irony." That eyebrow slides to Vyv as if he can read her personality for that moment of MATCHED SET!!! But she remains sober in the manner. When Itzhak speaks the pencil goes down and Hya regards him. "Formally I would like to thank you. I don't nearly ever do that so if you want to put that on your calendar I'll notarize it. But... I feel in the weight of all things it should be acknowledged. That... is one."

Itzhak, one arm folded across his flat belly, looks at Hya from over the rim of the mug. His eyebrows tilt up, giving him a yearning, soulful expression. "Hell of an introduction, huh?" he says with quiet irony. That arm across his belly comes up to offer Hya a subdued little flourish of a stage bow. "Appreciate it. I said I'd see this through, and I'm gonna."

"For a family that was allegedly gone for decades, Gray Harbor sure seems filthy with Baxters, yes," Rebecca says with a sullen expression. She looks to Vyv, because they brought the bones over, the two of them and that librarian, and they decided not to bury them that night. "I'm so sorry I brought this on all of you. And now we are all going to lose things that are meaningful to us. I am so sorry." She looks like she might cry but she doesn't, because she has Olympic levels of composure, which is why she is also so good at her job.

Vyv catches Hyacinth's look, and there's the faintest of upturns at one corner of his mouth, with a slightly less faint lift of one brow. "Perhaps it's a hereditary aptitude," he suggests, before taking another sip of his coffee. A small nod is apparently his version of supporting or seconding Hyacinth's thanks, though he remains quiet until after Rebecca's apologies.

"Well. First of all, we had no way to know. Secondly, it was apparently a new situation, being able to bring things back at all. Thirdly, Margaret and Thomas knew what was going on and thought they knew how to stop it, yet didn't do what they thought would do it. Fourthly, none of us are responsible for him being unburied in the first place. Fifthly, none of us made him go around killing people before OR after death, and lastly, requiring people to give things of value to stop someone taking things of value absolutely remains unreasonable extortion, so all in all, I think we're rather far down the list of people to be properly considered responsible for this." It's very calm and matter-of-fact; he doesn't appear to be going for reassuring, but the tone's also not defensive or even more than just his baseline-level of irritated for this whole situation.

Hyacinth dips her head in a nod to Itzhak. There's a faint smile for the theatre of it. Looking up to Rebecca that smile goes sour but that tone is honey she might drown someone in, "OOooh let's not take teh blame for the people who ahve been enabling this shit for decades and started offering up their own family members like it's the god damned Hunger Games." She vestures to Vyv. THIS. THIIIIIIIIIIIIS. "That's not on you for exposing what was. My great-auntie had her brother, my grandfather, murder... his own son in our home. Hmmm yeah. yeah I don't see the name Rebecca Baxter Carr annnnnywhere in there." She pauses and takes a deep breath stetting up. (Ooh big event! ...she also has to get her coffee too). "You lost your sister. We..." She looks to Vyv for silent queues there before returning to Rebecca, "Are saddened that this asshole took her life too. The cause is not yours. The solution? That can be. Besides," Now she has her coffee and can find her other mechanical pencil. "I happen to be rather fond of my Baxter."

Looking back to Itzhak she tilts her head, "You have given up so much just by agreeing to help and..."She gestures with a hand at his state of being, "and then so much more to us all." Hand lifting in imperial pause she offers, "While we will not be able to help you replace what you may lose we will be happy to offer you something in return."

OMG, BAXTERS ARE NOT COLLECTIBLE CORGIS, HYA!!!

"What they said," Itzhak murmurs, tipping his head in Hya's and then Vyv's direction. He meets Rebecca's eyes for a moment, just a moment as he can't do it long. "Said it before. Ain't your fault, Bex. We're just the grand finale of a long and fucked up chain of events." Itzhak crosses the room to Rebecca, sits by her. Then he hitches an eyebrow at Hya, a little puzzled, not sure what to make of that offer, or maybe make of her at all. "How?" he says, sincere, if confused. "You can't give me somethin' like...like what we got to give up, can you? It wouldn't be a sacrifice if ya could."

Rebecca doesn't normally show any signs of affection around others with Itzhak, but this, today, is weighing on her far too much. All the words saying it isn't her fault can't wipe the taste from her mouth, that feeling of knowing Kelly might be alive if she'd just done what Billy had asked of her. She leans against the lanky, shirtless man and tucks her head under his chin like a lost child.

Vyv flatly refuses to take the blame for all this. So, it's pleasant to know at least Hyacinth and Itzhak see his points, even if Rebecca doesn't look properly convinced. He takes another sip of his coffee, watching her. "Think of it as if someone's plane crashed on the way to visit you. Yes, you're in some way a factor. No, it doesn't make you responsible for it."

He sighs, head tilting back for a moment to study Hyacinth's parlour's ceiling, which is no doubt perfect as parlour ceilings go. "It seems nearly sorted out, in any case. Though it does feel as though Margaret and Thomas get off a bit easy, when they are rather responsible. They needn't even add to the binding sacrifices. Mn."

Hyacinth looks to Vyv who is taking all of that time to admire the painstaking work she's done on that pan ceiling. That? that there is true friendship. Clearly that's the reason forit. At the end of Vyv's statement of them getting off light she ounters, "The man had to be possessed and they had to cull their own family. I'm angry but that's not a light price to pay sacrificing your child among other things. So, Am I angry? yes. Do they deserve an accident? Eeeeeeh I'm nto going to go with no... but light isn't what I'd call it."

To Itzhak she shakes her head as if this were in teh manner of lunchroom gossip but it's not gossip it's tactical planning. "That's no. What I can say is if for example one had to give up their phone with sentimental value we can at least help you find something after the fact to help make calls. THe personal value will be lost, but... it's ...something."

Itzhak's surprised when Rebecca tucks up against him; it's obvious from the way his eyebrows pop up. A lot of communication gets done with those eyebrows. He sets his coffee down and hugs her tight, the way he wants to be hugged when his brain is on the fritz. This is all awkward, he's mostly naked and in the house of someone he only barely met, and Rebecca doesn't act like this usually and now she's doing it in front of her boss and this extremely high fashion, in-control lady. But he just hugs her.

"Okay," he says to Hya. "I get what you mean. So, nu. You and me, we are doing this, with someone who heals?" God, not Finch, he thinks.

"Is there somewhere I can lie down, Miss Addington?" Rebecca asks, numbly. "I'm feeling very unwell." She doesn't want her boss to see her like this. Doesn't want Itzhak to either, because it will make him more upset than he already is. She just needs to have a little lie down and reorganize her brain.

Hyacinth doesn't seem put off or, or at least doesn't show it. "I have this entire house to myself. There's a guest room to stay in and you are... all welcome to stay the night as it is late and very trying but," She pauses and sighs, "I can guarantee at least the things from beyond will find no reach here so you can sleep." There's a pause and she looks mildly pleased with how that came out. "That had drama on it. Really though Rest. Clear your mind. Make use of the things. I trust you." Vyv's not set her on fire so she's not at all concerned.

Looking to Itzhak she speaks without reserve, "If I have to give up one arm at the elbow I'll do it. It'll be unfortunate and I will manage. I'd burn this entire house down and I have spent 11 years on it were it to qualify. That said? We do not know what we walk into. We can only know our intent and in that we need to trust ourselves." And after that fortune cookie moment she ruins it by adding, "And we all have pretty good taste so, like, it should turn out rather smashing. Not the life of something or someone though. That's not ours to take or give.,"

Vyv already (mostly) admitted he considered Rebecca a friend! She probably gets a certain amount of leeway on the things to be seen like. All the same, one would suspect he might relate to the general class of ways one might prefer not to be seen. He looks back down from the ceiling, first to her, then to Hyacinth. This one he's not going to speak up on. Instead, he says, "I didn't say it was nothing, but they did choose that over other options they thought they also had, didn't they? From what you said they sounded rather more concerned with catching up on television." A slight shrug, and another drink, glancing into his mug to see how close to empty it is. More than he'd like it to be. Not quite enough to get up, yet. "Good night, Rebecca. Do feel better."

"Rest," Itzhak murmurs to Rebecca. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, listening to first Hya then Vyv. He doesn't look at either of them, but he's listening so intently, his whole body focused on them. "To make real magic, you can't offer up someone else's liver," he says, dead flat serious, quoting The Last Unicorn. "You gotta tear out your own and not expect to get it back. So that's where we're at, I figure."

"Thank you," Rebecca murmurs to Hyacinth. She gets up and squeezes Itzhak's shoulder a moment, before she heads to one of the guest rooms to lie down, after a call to the family lawyer. She has things to set in motion. Her own sacrifice to prepare.