2019-09-22 - The Waiting Game

It's the day of the exorcism. Byron and Lilith were let into a nearby interrogation room to wait on standby for any calls of aid or otherwise, just in case. No one quite knows what any of this will entail, and the possibility for outside interference might not be as offchance as they think. So just in case, she's in the building as well, separated from the room with the ceremony and others, luckily with man as guardian and company. On the way to the station, she spent some time texting Erin and wishing August luck on her phone, sidelining to Byron as they park and wait to be let in the building by the Captain, "Erin is nervous, but she's ready. She said it makes her feel better to know I'm right nearby, so that's good. I stressed I was just a hop away, whatever makes her more steady."

Then she goes quiet as they're lead to the appropriate waiting area with the table and chairs beforehand, the Hispanic man tending to business of settling with the others afterwards. Once inside, though, she starts to pace. Today she's wearing a cream colored fit and flare mini-skirt with a black cuffed button up blouse tucked in, low ankle boot heels on her feet. Her hair is curled, her makeup is done, she's done that thing where she spent extra time getting ready just to get the fidgets out while waiting on Byron to pick her up so they could ride together. Besides, when you're put together outside, sometimes it's easier to feel a little more put together inside.

Waiting with matters out of hands is a bit hard for her. While Byron definitely didn't want her inside the circle for the exorcism, and she wasn't crazy enough to rationally want it, part of her wants to know, wants to feel, wants to see, wants to act to see it all work. Tousling a hand up through her hair, she wonders of Byron, "You aren't nervous, are you? I don't think I'm nerves, precisely, I feel pretty solid and steady. It's just..." She sniffles a little with reflex and clears her throat some before going for a water bottle out of her nearby bag to drink from, "I don't know what to do with myself in the meantime."

If Byron Thorne looked confident with nerves of steel at his very moment, it was all an act. Chinks in his armor is beginning to show, the stress of today and some things from yesterday must be weighing heavily on his mind because there's a touch of exhaustion in his features. He keeps to a mostly stony expression still, dressed in his suit and tie to better fit into the police station environment once they are led in. One of the few who tends to dress properly for the occasion, in his mind anyway.

"So... run this plan by me again. They don't want me to run a scan," He means do a read, "Every so often to ensure that everything in that room is alright?" He's settled down in one of the chairs in the room, his eyes looking out in the direction of the room in which this is all taking place. "Nervous? Anyone would be nervous when talks of exorcism and serial killing ghosts are tossed around." A pause, "You?" But when he's told that she's feeling pretty solid, he can't help but try and gauge if this is her adrenaline talking, but he'll nod anyway.

Lilith has makeup on right now and looks as vital and lovely as ever, however, Byron had seen her looking a little pale with... maybe the lingering exhaustion that's been on her. Stress fatigue, surely, between the pair of them, right? As much as they've fallen fully into the pleasures and comforts of presence with each other, things still are what they are at the core of things and it's hard to keep them well out of mind during downtime, despite how they might try to cozy in and distract. After sniffling a tiny bit again, she makes a murmuring bitch about 'allergies' while capping her water bottle off and offering it over to Byron for him to take a drink if he wants before she puts it back into her bag on the table.

Shifting her weight between her hips, her head shakes a little bit, "I don't know how safe it would be. And who knows what kind of occult protections are up with ah." She almost said 'the goth lady', "Minerva, I don't know her process. But then again, they didn't say explicitly not to do that. August was going to mentally keep me updated, or at least reach out in emergency or oddity occurrence, but when I explained that to the Captain in texts last night, he said he would connect with me and do it. Less multitasking for August that way, really."

That might account for the way Lilith resumes pacing again, because she's not high on hospital drugs now and expecting someone to pop into her head at any time with any kind of news or request for protection/interference/help or what have you. But after a moment, she stops doing that and pops into a sit on the table edge, bared legs crossing one over the other before a foot takes up a bounce.

There's an annoyance that comes with incredible stress and Byron's mood tends to swing that way in highly stressful situations. Often, he'll try to curb such things with biting sarcasm and insults, not that those work any better, but this was a slightly different kind of situation. One that seemed far too dangerous for either of them to be involved in. There's a moment when he's about to dismiss the offered water, his eyes looking on it before they almost divert. Almost. Feeling this dryness in his throat, hell, his mouth felt like a desert, he accepts the water and starts to down it, letting it soothe. Once the bottle is capped, he'll allow Lilith to pack it away, though the way in which he watches her do that, there's this regret in his eyes that he did not take a second sip.

He may have been told of this mental linking in the past, but it only really dawns on him now as this whole event was the main thing on both their minds. "You would feel comfortable allowing strangers into your mind?" His head tilts, eyes turned to Lilith now. "Not that many people can stop it." He reads people without their permission too, but sometimes they don't realize it. "It's incredibly intrusive, I've always felt. And it's not even a brief link. You're connected the whole time." He'll remain seated there, his body feeling heavy, an arm outstretched so that a hand rests on the interrogation table. He's been in this room before, a long time ago.

"I guess. It's not like they can be in there texting me or anything in the middle of it. Not a lot of option. And I've only had it happen that one time with August when I was already kind of mind-loopy anyway. I mean, when you do it, it's like butterfly flutters that aren't bad, but that's different, maybe. Because you don't do it to talk to me on the insides." Lilith tells Byron with a vague knit of her brows, the water bottle still accessible there in her purse on the table. While seated on the edge of it, her foot continues to go with bounce, considering his words for a moment. She's clearly not up to par on what the headstuff is all about, what can possibly be done, how to keep someone out, or much else.

After wetting her glossed rose lips, she turns her head to look at Byron with her brows drawn down a bit, "How do you stop it? Should I recognize signs and learn how to do that or is it pretty moot to even get into trying to explain that to me?" She knows there's not always words for the things they do and how they try to do them, at that. Then after looking at him for a few heartbeats of distraction, like she's noticing the heaviness of his limbs, she briefly reaches out to dust fingertips along the edge of his ear, then down to his collar below the ear aside the neck for caress, "Tired still, huh. Minds running all the time tends to take it out of us."

"When I do it, we're not really connected." Byron tries to explain, "Or it's a one way connection, which shouldn't feel all that comforting because I am reaching into your mind for information. Some of which may be difficult to hide. Not that people notice sometimes, which is how /I/ prefer it. This, however." There's a clenching of his jaw and he breathes in deeply through his nostrils, "Gives people access to your mind, it opens you up to communication, inviting them into your home, but your home is filled with your secrets, your memories, for good or bad." He'll say. "There will be a knock and then they let themselves in and in truth, despite what they might say, they are free to roam unless you do your best to lock away those things, but why invite disaster?"

To the point of them not being able to text, he rises to walk over to the water cooler, because they probably have one here, and takes up a plastic cup to fill. "I could do a constant reading, though you're right, it may interfere what they are doing." A pause as he takes a much needed drink, before returning to settle back down into his seat, the cup set down on the table, "It's a good thing that I wasn't asked." He then considers her question, "Only others like me, probably, have the ability to prevent others from coming in. Or, you can try your best to ignore the insane knocking if they keep it up, I know I tend to."

When she touches him, she can feel that edge of tension in his body, though it's probably something she could have already sensed if she's attuned to him. One hand reaches up to be placed over hers in a comforting manner rather than trying to stop her from being cute. He feels a tad under the weather as it is, but he's not about to bring that up.

Out of the blue, and with no warning whatsoever, Lilith will feel a sudden, violent intrusion into her mind. Like slamming into a brick wall at 80 mph, reality as she's perceiving it collides headlong with a mind not her own. Feral, teeth and claws and burning, boiling, screaming white-hot rage; it snarls and lunges and takes root unless forcibly removed. De la Vega? It tastes like it might be him.

<<Miss Winslow. We've run into some complications. I'm not clear what's happened, but we're going to be delayed in bringing Thomas here. Possibly.>>

"Oh." Lilith isn't sure what to say to that which Byron has explained or how to do anything about it now, the plan is what it is. But she at least trusts that the Captain has better things to look at in a hectic moment and focus on than brain rooting around, anyway. At least in this case. After working her bottom lip between her teeth, she kneads a little at his line of neck and shoulder with lowering drop of hand after the caress and nods some, her features pensive with brows knit. After leaning back with her hands on the table a moment afterwards, she sits in quiet and uncrosses her legs to stand up again, starting to step behind where Byron is seated with hands reaching to give a proper massage during the sidestep, but she doesn't quite make it.

Abruptly, she stops short and hisses with her hands no longer reaching, but clutching up at the sides of her head with surprise and agitation because the Captain apparently came in hard and fast and Byron doesn't know what she's feeling, of course, but he knows there might well be some bleedover of how the other mind tends to feel. And oh, is there. She largely keeps her shit together after that beat for gripping composure. With lashes dropped into tight squint of eye-close, her breath comes in sharp through her nose as she stands there rigid, teeth grit, trying to control herself enough to speak and accustom herself.

"He says they've ran into complications trying to get Addington here. He's not clear what happened but he says there's delay." Then she says to herself in mutter, eyes still closed, "He feels like a pissed off cheetah." Another pause that goes with swallow down, "Can you touch me please?" She probably needs the grounding reality check after being so slammed into awareness to listen by the exertion of another, and gradually her hands come down away from her head in slide from her hair's grip.

Byron has been that invasive force in people's minds for years now. He's felt things, learned things about the other person, even memories or emotions, thoughts that the other may have tried to bottle up-- or hide. The gentle kneading at his shoulders is appreciated and at that time, he seems to be feeling mostly relaxed despite the situation that they've found themselves in. Those shoulders loosen a tad beneath her fingertips, leaving him falling quiet in this thoughtful moment. He's expecting that 'knock' to come into her mind at any moment, giving them some doorway to what is going on, so to that, he remains vigilant.

Watching as she rises to stand behind him, his head turns, eyes follow before she's lingering within his peripheral vision; from there, he'll face forward, looking ahead once again. The thing with these mental connections, while a person may try to communicate with a particular other, often times others within range may feel, or sometimes, hear things as well. In this case, Ruiz's own mind is a force to be reckoned with, so while he doesn't hear the man's thoughts, not a part of that connection, he has a sense that something just came through.

It shouldn't surprise him then when he turns around to see Lilith practically reeling from the intrusion, forcing himself out of his chair. "God damnit." This is why he hates telepathy. "If you can, drop the connection." He says firmly, before falling silent once more to take in what was said. "Shit. Where are they righ..." Licking at his lips, he'd rather her break off all contact that try to dig deeper. Even if she didn't ask, he was already reaching both hands out for her, one placed on her shoulder, the other on her arm. "Were they on the way then?" He's mostly asking from the point where they were supposed to start this move.

"I don't know how. I can't... ask things or do things, I just feel and hear him." Lilith tells Byron with a tiny shake of her head, though she really does screw up her face and turn a little flushed pink there for a moment with strain, like she's physically pushing with her muscles tensed. But a fat lot of good that actually does her. She does seem to be accustoming, though, and while de la Vega might still be there in mental vestige, leaving her frame tense under the man's hands, she breathes and finally opens her eyes to look up at Byron. After wetting her lips, she starts a bit slowly with thought, brows down with residual frown staying perpetually ticked by thought and bother.

"He let us in here, then I think he was straight to the short drive to apprehend, which makes sense, because he couldn't let us in if he was attending and guarding Addington in custody. But it seems they never got here into whatever Minerva had set up. Does that mean the old lady started interfering or Gohl started attacking through Thomas? I-- I don't know. He said he was unclear what happened, though... which... he could have explained either of those two things in those cases, right? So what else could be diverting them?"

After gripping her hands with curl and uncurl at her sides for a spell, she finally puts both hands up atop the backs of Byron's hands and knuckles where they rest on her for steadying and anchoring. And though she seems mostly okay now, she seems still on edge standing there, waiting to be mind-slammed again with another update. Which she does want, but also when they come and feel like that she's... rethinking this whole mindbanger thing for future occasions. But in this case, the situation is what it is.

Not a cheetah, so much as a wolf. Bright eyes and long teeth, fur that smells like ozone and woodsmoke as the heat of it burns and burns and burns like a pyre. <<We've been pulled into a dream. I'm not sure where we are, but the Sherriff is here, and so is William Gohl. I'm going to do my best to keep the Three safe. I'll contact you again if I can>> And then, as violently as his mind latched on to Lilith's, it tears away with a snarl and rip of claws and slithers into darkness.

Byron has a mind of his own to send forth his own stern mental statement to De la Vega just so the other man cuts the line. He knows that they need to be kept abreast and right now without Thomas Addington being here or the fact that the exorcism wasn't happening, as far as he could tell, he also has a mind to leave the room and drive over to the Addington place himself. One thing at a time however.

"Something woke Gohl up from his slumber. We never found out who or what." Byron says almost as a reminder, "It could be that. It could be the murderer in the Veil who tried to prevent someone else from giving out any information about William Gohl's time at the asylum. It could be a lot of things." A pause, "It could be the Addingtons as well, we don't know. Why would they do this? Why does anything even happen in this world anymore?"

Breathing in deep, rather than being the angry tension within the room, Thorne's trying his best to keep Lilith calm, "If Addington's not here, then we don't need to be here. I'll let Isabella and the others know that something went wrong." With one hand keeping contact with Lilith, he fumbles into his pocket for his phone with the other. "One of our options was to donate Thomas Addington and William Gohl to the Collector.." Instead of his bones. "Sure, once that happens, we wouldn't need Gohl's bones anymore, but I thought it was a good idea to have them both locked up, the key tossed."

"... that maybe isn't a horrible idea, the man might not survive the separation, in truth, given..." Lilith starts to talk to Byron and bats her lashes a few times, breathing in and out with slow control, trying her absolute damndest not to let all that wild fury seep in and burn and ignite her own fury. Especially when the man standing there with steadying hand on her presents the possibilities at hand. The continued stiff tension in her, though, that's probably a part of connection with de la Vega, as even when things are bad, generally his touch or draw of her into himself will melt her physically to some degrees like reflex response.

Lilith has it under control, though, which feels like a feat given all the destruction she can bring and the tempest that roils inside sometimes because of it. At least until she's slammed with another wolflike moment of communicative power, feel, and personality force with the next message. But the distress is short lived this time around-- first her hand tightens on Byron's remaining one still upon her and she gasps with her eyes flying to squeeze shut with reactive composure bid. Then suddenly, she's stepping forward with softness to latch onto his suited form with arms at wrap, sagging there with relief instead.

She probably doesn't have to say it, but she starts with it first, "He's out of my head. But..." Her words take a bit of a helpless frustration as she relays what was imparted, "He said they were pulled into a dream and he isn't sure where they are. The... Sheriff is there, as is Gohl. And he's trying to keep the Three safe. He'll... contact again if he's able." Then after getting the important stuff out, she murmurs to herself, still reeling some despite the tension flooding out, "Jesus."

Byron had sent a quick initial text out to someone once he got his phone unlocked. Then almost immediately, his phone begins to ring. This made things a little easier, it was difficult trying to keep Lilith grounded when he was trying to type with one hand. With his phone to his ear, rather than waste any time, he starts in quick, "Captain de la Vega, through telepathy, informed Lilith that something went wrong. A complication when trying to bring Addington to the station for the ritual. A delay, she says. I don't know IF Addington is in their custody now or if they never got to the residence."

The hand that holds onto Lilith absently stroke along the length of her arm, then makes its journey back up in a gentle trail. "That is exactly what happened. They didn't make it here." As he speaks, his eyes, like that one lone hand, never leave Winslow-- so when she is struck once more to the Captain's invasive mind, he's quick enough to grab onto that arm, keeping her good and steady, before she closes the distance even further to latch onto his lean frame, making his hand drop to pat gently at her back, before stroking at her hair.

He'll let Lilith do the talking, informing Isabella about what just happened, but he will add, "I was thinking of stopping by the Addington's. Not sure whether Thomas was picked up or not and I've got ideas on where I'd like to drag Mister Addington to right about now. But I was hoping that along the way, we could figure out just what happened--" His voice lowers, pace slowed, "But if they were pulled into a dream like De la Vega said, they could be anywhere."

This is when Thorne informs Lilith with, "It's Isabella." Those words are mostly mouthed than said aloud. He lowers his chin to press into the top of Lilith's head, murmuring against her waves of dark hair, the phone drawn away from his ear, "I want to leave, but what if they show up here?"

"The car in the parking lot is a good compromise for now, maybe. We'd be able to see them coming in or pulling up and we wouldn't have to wait in this box. And we'd be ready to pull out on a moment's notice if we figure out somewhere to be." Lilith suggests to Byron after listening to him explain to Isabella on the phone, taking the time to breathe him in and smell the familiar as a centering with the gentle touch. She's definitely all her own mind now, because she's doing that melt into the man thing while standing there latched and thinking after her bit of reeling recovery from the foreign feel of another mind, especially that one.

"Maybe after waiting a little longer, if we get particularly impatient, we could drive and look for the Captain's car on the route he would have taken to apprehend or return with him. Might at least be where they're... put back out." In whatever condition, maybe even dead! But if they were inside the Addington residence when it happened...

The woman rubs her hand against Byron's back with her reply to his speaking into the dark crown of her hair, then gradually separates with a small smile slanted up, reassuring she's herself and fine enough for operating anew, "What do you think of that? I'm with you whatever you decide, but it seems like the middle ground between here and there for now."

Right now, Byron is listening to both Lilith and Isabella at the same time, allowing some of what Lilith says to drift over the phone so as not to have to repeat anything. Though this is something that he still does, his own voice ringing loud and clear now when the phone is back against his ear, "For now, we'll wait in my car. We'll be prepared to move out at a moment's notice and if they do show up, better us seeing them pull up rather than waiting inside of the interrogation room all day." A thoughtful pause, "If you need Lilith-- Right, let Easton know. I'll let you know if De la Vega contacts us again. And you let us know if you've found them on the road."

Despite their weariness, he can hear the change in her tone once that smile reaches her lips. When her eyes lift up at him, she'll see he's wearing a very faint smile of her own, his head withdrawn from where it once rested. "Sounds like a plan. I just hope that they don't magically appear inside of... wherever it was that they were planning the exorcism while we're waiting outside, but that doesn't tend to happen. Usually when you enter a dream, you get spit out in the same place." Though she probably knows this by now. His phone now slipped back into his pocket, he shifts, bringing one arm to drape over Winslow's lithe frame as he goes digging in for his car keys now, "Isabella is going to try and find the dream entrance. She thinks she may be able to as she can find doors, but I don't know. She'll recruit Marshall, believing him to be much stronger than her in this." There's some skepticism in his voice when he says this, but they're always dragging Easton into something. "But yeah, let's get out of here."

"Sounds like the best planning we can do for now." Lilith agrees with Byron and picks up her shoulder bag to sling on after a little rub at her nose and sniffle into a kleenex she pulls out, voicing concern, "I don't know that... finding a way to the other side guarantees that you'll end up in that reality they were pulled into, though. But I guess... that's what we have to work with and it'll get figured out, one way or another." On the way out walking with the sling of the man's arm around her, Lilith balls up and underhand throws her tissue into the trash can.

Then she doesn't go blaming allergies or stress or anything else, she looks up and aside at Byron while relocating from building hallways, out of the doors, and into the parking lot so they can go for his car, "I think I'm getting sick with something. Maybe a cold. I'd tell you to keep your space, but there's not a chance in hell at this point I haven't wiped it on you. I should start drinking orange juice or something to ward it off, we don't exactly have the time or inclination to be sickly."

It's a tense few minutes of radio silence. And then it's not Ruiz who reaches out to Lilith, but August. <<Lilith. We're done. Ruiz was hurt, but Erin and I have it in hand. Everyone else seems okay.>> There's an odd sort of static that's not usually there in the sound of the river, like he's having trouble concentrating.

Thorne's been doing this bet to not let on that he's been feeling under the weather-- nevermind that myth about men who whine when i-- Well, once he hits full blown illness, he very well may complain and whine about it. Lilith's words just remind him of that. He won't say that he's been feeling the same, but he'll add on, "I'l pick up some antibacterial lotion too. I mean, if you're not feeling so hot, it's gonna be hard to resist temptation enough to not catch whatever's you've got." Though, he already has a feeling that this is the case, though he's not even sure he got it from her.

It's weird just walking out of the backroom of a police station with no escort. There's a lot of questions to be asked, but De la Vega had informed a few on hand of their presence. Or so Byron would have hoped. They didn't look like they were escaping either way, as he leads the way to his car parked in the lot. Let's hope that no one tries to get in their faces...

The Captain must have done the trick with the info passing to the right person, because they get out to the lot. Then just as Byron's doors to the car are opening, Lilith freezes and bats her lashes a few times. But she doesn't go all stiff and tense and reactive other than that, her eyes just kind of go far away. Then she drops down into a sit in the car, lashes batting with general disbelief, concern, and... relief finally flashes over her features. She takes a moment like that to process everything conveyed by August, then she passes it to Byron when he gets in, voice quiet.

"August. It's done. The captain is hurt but Erin and August are taking care of him. And he sounds... I don't know. Tired or far away, kind of? It must have been draining... I don't know where they actually are." But then she pauses to repeat, "... he said it's done."

The beep of the Wraith's alarm being shut off is heard as is that heavy click of the doors being unlocked. Byron swings those the suicide door to the driver's side, before settling himself into the comfort and dry interior of his car to get out of the drizzle. Once that is done, the passenger door starts to swing open automatically to allow Lilith entrance. Speaking of, she seems to have interesting and possibly good news. It starts with a blink, "It's done?" It was supposed to have been done tonight, "Was Thomas Addington with them then?" He heard that they couldn't bring Addington here, but he does catch sight of a familiar police cruiser parked in the lot. "Did they even leave this place?" He's asking himself, mostly, but is speaking aloud, "De la Vega's car is right--" That's when he gives the lot a careful scan, "Did he say where they were?"

"Is that his?" Lilith wouldn't know the difference, she doesn't really pay a lot of attention to what people pull up in or not, but maybe the parking spot designates it just so because she takes a moment to squint over in the direction Byron is looking. After putting on her seatbelt, she gets her phone out of her purse and she starts to send off some texts, because if they're somewhere safe now, they can do that instead, right? It's a good test and solution for easier communication if it works out.

"Anyway, I don't know. We should all sync up. If they're... here and around somewhere, though, there's no reason I can't just text people."

And at some point, some of those people all decide where to meet up post-exorcism.