2019-10-31 - Let's Fight City Hall

Gabriel Quintanilla, it might be noted, is not here to protest the casino as such. He is here, rather, to just see who is here to protest the casino. He is wearing a blue blazer and gray slacks and a white-button up shirt, his usual cop on-duty attire. Maybe he is on duty! It is hard to say. He is against the back wall, arms folded, seeing just who is here.

Although he's never really shown much interest in civil activism or politics before, Alexander Clayton has come to this particular meeting. He doesn't look great; his face has the haggard signs of fatigue on it, and his clothing is ill-fitting, but at least he managed to grab a button down shirt and some slacks, so it's vaguely City Hall appropriate. Still, he does have that air of having maybe celebrated the first night of the Masquerade a bit TOO hard. He's here, though, and seems to allying himself with the casino protestors. At least, he's vaguely on that side of the room. But seeing Gabriel, he stands and moves towards the cop. "Detective," he says, quietly.

A few people get up to get in line in the aisle. The fastest person to get up and thus the first to speak is, inexplicably, a very old woman who is wearing a knit shawl that is absolutely covered in pins of cats. She is against the casino because gambling is a sin and she has a grandson who got into the gambling through online poker and now is addicted to internet pornography. Clarissa manages to maintain a smile through all of that and nods, "Thank you, Mrs. Campbell for sharing such a personal story with such detail." The next person up is a young man in his twenties who speaks pretty passionately about how the casino absolutely needs to open because people need jobs here. Economics, young people, the future, he hits all the right buzz words and when he finishes there are some rounds of applause. The next few speakers are the somewhat of the same, although some come out against the casino (addiction of all kinds, broken homes), the majority in here today seem to be for it. But there's still people deciding to stand up and get in line to share their thoughts. "Yes, thank you, Jeremiah, we will definitely look into how casinos lead to color blindness." Clarissa's smile might be a little strained.

"Mister Clayton," says Gabe to Alexander as he wanders by, tossing his head to the fairly disheveled private investigator. "Enjoying the Masquerade?" he wonders. "And standing up for your property val -- I mean, living wages and good jobs?"

Andy's there, sitting in with the anti-casino crowd, though sitting far enough away that no one might assume he's concerned about internet pornography or all that interested in cats. When the old lady steps off and the kid sitting next to him mutters, "God damn it, Grandma," Andy takes that as his cue to get up and separate himself a little more from the pack. Not that he's going to get up and talk! Probably wouldn't look good for the department or something. There's probably a rule in there about protesting against corrupt capitalist institutions or something. The look he gives Clarissa is somewhere between amusement and pity. They say color blindness is the silent killer, though, so maybe this will save lives. As he steps back he nods to Gabriel. "Detective."

Well, that's new.

When Isabella arrives, it's with little fanfare if not just because the town hall meeting is already happening, but her strides are confident and businesslike and inundated with the quick clip of a young woman who has lived in several of the busiest metropolises in the world, and is more accustomed to a fast-paced life than what could be found in a city like Gray Harbor. She's wearing a sleek, navy blue pinstripe pantsuit with a matching suit jacket, her hair pulled in its usual tousled knot that somehow looks more artfully disheveled than any actual disarray. There's a leather folio tucked under her arm as well as her satchel and both seem full - though to say that she was working solely on environmental concerns connected to the casino would be a relatively big lie. She was in City Hall for other reasons also.

She also looks tired, but she's bright-eyed and alert, her attention sweeping through the crowd but pausing at Jeremiah, a slender brow arching upwards. She had caught the last passionate remarks, but at Clarissa's succinct summary as to what the concerns were about, her expression shifts from focused and disgruntled to faint incredulity. Color blindness?

Several more people seem on the fence about the whole thing, they just want everyone to know they are pro-jobs, but anti-addiction. Some ask questions that neither Clarissa nor other people in the room know the answers to, but she promises to have them written down (it looks like a woman in the corner is typing minutes) and also presented to the Mayor and the casino owners. An older woman steps up and speaks in a low, impassioned voice about how the whole thing seems like a terrible idea, built in the blood of the two owners of the Sea View Motel. And regardless of whether or not the casino would be a good thing for the town in any way, how could the citizens of Gray Harbor welcome it under those circumstances? This causes a low murmuring in the room, even on the pro-casino side. It's a hard argument to really offer a rebuttal for. Luckily the next person up the microphone decides they don't really want to talk about the casino, they'd like to take about the state of school lunches and is anyone else bothered by the low quality of the food they're serving our children in this district? "Thank you," Clarissa says quickly, raising a hand, "But we'd like to keep the conversation on topic. If you are concerned about the quality of school lunches that can be addressed in another open session."

At the murmur-murmur-murmur about the double homicide at the Sea View Motel, Gabriel shifts a bit uncomfortably. Yeah. About that. But he does offer a small smile to Andy. "Hey, Sarge."

August slips into the meeting with a cup from Espressor Yourself in hand. He too looks like he could use some sleep. Will he get any any time soon? If the rest of Thorne's Masquerade is going to go like last night, not likely. So. Coffee. He's in denim jeans, a brick red Waffle knit Henley, his work boots, and a black leather jacket, with a black knit scarf wound loosely around his neck. He moves to stand near Isabella, raises his eyebrows at her in a silent greeting. "Anything interesting yet?" he murmurs.

"No," Alexander says, bluntly, to the question on whether he's been enjoying the Masquerade so far. "It's going about how I thought it would." So glum! He doesn't seem upset about the outlandish reasons people are speaking of objecting to the casino's presence. Color blindness? Sure. Porn addiction? He nods, thoughtfully. Andy is given a brief smile, even though the greeting wasn't for him, and he murmurs to Gabriel, "Someone should probably talk about the effect of casinos and other gambling establishments on surrounding rates of crime and exploitative economic practices." Someone NOT being Crazy Clayton. Although seeing Isabella and August, he starts to drift in that direction towards them both.

Andy clucks his tongue, shaking his head with dismay. "I can't believe that Clarissa Robbins doesn't care about our kids' school lunches."

A couple of people by Andy nod in agreement. How dare she!

As Alexander moves towards Isabella, the young man wearing an I BELIEVE T-Shirt reaches for his arm and mutters something about the government, man, this is just a distraction, man, they're trying to cover it all up, man! Also, does he have any weed?

Like the young man earlier, a middle aged gentleman stands up now to talk very heated about all the reasons the casino is a terrible idea, pointing back to Gabriel and arguing that increased crime rates that come with opening gambling dens like this is nothing that our current police force can keep up with! While he seems to mean it in a rather nice way, not wanting to add to the workload of the current police officers, Clarissa's eyes light up a bit, "Yes," she drawls just a bit, "They do seem rather over worked currently, don't they? But the crime issue is something that definitely has me concerned. Which is why we're asking the Mayor's office and the casino owners to give us some assurances that they will be keeping an eye on the health of the town in all ways."

Since it's a small town and this is the kind of word that gets around: Felix Monaghan's lawyer-on-a-leash is here, sitting quietly and taking notes. Bobby DeWitt obviously isn't here to contribute; he's just doing what Gabriel was doing and paying attention to who is contributing. For no reason, just keep talking about your concerns with criminality like it's fine.

It's doubtful that Anne's here for the protest, considering she doesn't have any signs or even a cool t-shirt with a snappy saying on it. Really, it's just because she works here, and was passing by the room on her way to file some records. That should explain the file folder tucked under one slim arm as she peeks her head in, golden brown hair swept up in a tight bun. She's wearing a floral skirt and blouse number, something business-casual.

Gabriel is being pointed at! Because of course he is. When the heads turn towards him, Gabriel just holds up a hand to wave at the crowd. "Vice isn't my beat! But good to see everyone. Civic engagement is the lifeblood of a healthy community. Support your local PBA." Bobby gets a nod. "Counselor."

Figuring out exactly how Patrick Addington is related to the Mayor would take way too long for posing in. Suffice it to say, the Mayor's assistant (who is also obviously over there taking notes or whatever) isn't the only one likely to be reporting all this back to Clyde Addington after the fact. At the back of the room, arms folded across his middle, he wears a small smile of the 'entertained by minions' variety. "Question," he chimes in with, unfolding one of those arms to raise a hand, index finger lifted.

August's taller, solid form earns him a quick smile - and an absolutely jealous glance at his coffee. "Well, apparently all the neon gas in casino lights causes color blindness," Isabella murmurs to her fellow field researcher. "Otherwise a few tangential issues with respect to school lunches and the like. I think I'm about ready to bore the masses with other alternatives as to how to fight this from a marine conservationist's perspective. What about you? You about to do the same?"

Someone else breaks away from the back of the group, movement catching the corner of her eye. The archaeologist turns her head, a smile diverted Alexander's way.

August catches that jealous look, smiles apoogetically at Isabella and has another drink. "Rather be ten minutes late and caffeinated than not." He frowns about the color blindness. "That's not a thing," he says, unnecessarily, and has more coffee. "I am in fact about to do so. Feel free to go first, we can tag team." He gives Alexander an upnod and a sympathic look for the shared exhaustion of the previous night's insanity.

Bobby DeWitt answers Gabriel's nod with a bright smile. "Detective." They're BFFs now. He keeps on writing his hit list notes.

The look Clarissa gives Patrick when he chimes is barely tolerant. It says 'the line is over there, Patrick!' But her smile clearly recognizes his position here at City Hall and she holds up a hand as someone else steps to the microphone, "Let's pause to indulge the Mayor's office a moment. Go ahead, Mister Addington. Do you want to step up here to the podium or just project so the people in the back can hear you?"

Apparently, Clarissa is not the only one giving Patrick a barely tolerant look. Anne steadies her focus briefly on the Addington before she breathes out a sigh and tucks herself further into the room. She manages to shuffle somewhere near Isabella, murmuring to the woman: "Quite an interesting group of people." It's just idle assessment.

One of the (many) reasons that Alexander does not like these types of gatherings is that strangers try to touch him. He manages to sidestep the young man without getting touched (or punching him in the throat), and even musters up the attention to listen to the kid. He doesn't support or deny, though, just letting the kid have his say. He does raise his voice enough to say, "Research indicates that communities with a significant casino presence may end up with higher rates of personal bankruptcy and higher rates of suicides. Both of these things depress property values and discourage business growth - and Gray Harbor also has higher suicide rates than many communities of its size and composition. Inviting businesses which increase distress among the community and hinder economic growth is stupid."

Line? Was there a line? Alexander doesn't seem to notice that there was a line. Or that calling things stupid is not politically astute. He just shoves his hands back in his pockets and slouches back in place, now silent, near Isabella and August.

Andy lets out a long sigh, pushes away from where he's retreated from his fellow dissenters and moves to join the line.

A warm, pleasant smile from Patrick returns Clarissa's tolerant look, coupled to a small shake of his head at the offer of the podium. He dusts off his courtroom voice for the occasion, just starting to speak when Alexander takes his turn - and his mouth closes around a smile. Afterward, with a nod to the man, he notes, "I'm not here on behalf of anyone, the Mayor's office or otherwise. While I think Mister Clayton's facts are interesting, it does seem like you're all a day late and a dollar short with your complaints. The permits are in order. What was the precise purpose of the meeting?"

"There's absolutely nothing wrong with a bit of healthy discussion, Mister Addington," is Anne's response, her voice chiming in from where she's tucked herself. Her smile is perfectly pleasant, just a hint of dimples. "You know what happens when people feel their voices aren't being heard. Don't you remember the riots of 1925?" Nobody remembers the riots of 1925, Anne, because nobody was born then.

Clarissa looks away briefly at Alexander's mention of suicide rates, but then her smile grows when Patrick speaks and it's almost like she was just waiting for someone to ask that very question, "Well, Mister Addington, I'm glad you brought that up. While I know it is disappointing to many here, the casino does seem like it is inevitable at this point. However," and she lets that word hang in the air for a moment as she turns back to the crowd, voice smooth and composed like she was born to this, "That doesn't mean that we should not remain vigilant and that does not mean that we can't still fight for our rights as citizens of Gray Harbor and for the protection of our neighbors and our environment. As Miss Washburn indicates, there's nothing wrong with the public letting their thoughts be heard. And even if the casino is to open, there's no reason that the citizens of Gray Harbor can't demand that they live up to our standards rather than vice versa."

"Tag-teaming sounds fun. Let's do that." Isabella winks over at August, though when Alexander starts speaking out of turn, she falls silent. She doesn't chastize him though, if not just because whenever he opens his mouth, something interesting always comes out of it, and she's relatively confident in Clarissa Robbins' ability to keep order. With another figure approaching their side of the room, however, she blinks and her expression brightens considerably at seeing Andy step up to the mic - he doesn't disappoint either.

Surely, more people will answer. But Patrick turns his pleasant smile upon Anne and goes, "Ahh. So an echo chamber, then? Understood." He does that Addington-thing and bats the back of his fingers at the room at large. "Carry on." And he refolds his arms so as to better resume holding up the wall in the back of the room, nodding ever-so-gravely at Clarissa's clarifying logic, like now he gets it, mhm, sign him up.

When Andy gets to the front of the line he leans in too close to the microphone causing some feedback. He winces and sits back, trying again. "Obviously there's nothing to be done about stopping the casino at this point. If the thing is built come hell or high water they're going to put something in it. It would be nice, though, to know that Gray Harbor is working, or has worked, on behalf of its citizens to make this as good a local institution as it can be. Making the casino a benefit to workers and to the community." Andy then starts tapping his fingers as he reads off a list of socialist demands likely to send any red blooded American into a tizzy. "A guaranteed living wage for employees, for instance. Health insurance for all employees, including part time employees. Allowing UNITE HERE to schedule meetings to give workers union protections. Vacation time separate from sick time, so people can afford to stay home when they are ill or have ill dependents. Flexible spending accounts for medical purposes, but also for childcare. A percentage of profits that go toward maintaining the local environment, toward maintaining local historical landmarks, toward addiction treatment and toward local schools." Andy considers that, then adds quickly, "Oh, and a portion of profits set aside for reparations to natives who were displaced to make room for Gray Harbor itself and to offset the money they will lose out on by having a competing casino in the area." He gives a quick nod, then adds, "Thank you for your consideration. God bless America. These colors don't run. Bald eagles. Betsy Ross. Troops." Then he steps down and returns to the back of the room.

August's mouth flattens at Patrick, but he says nothing, sticking to dirty looks. He nods in agreement with Andy's concerns, though of course has to wonder how many businesses in town can say they do any of that. The last bit gets a small smile from him, which he hides behind a drink of coffee.

Alexander glances over at Anne as she mentions the riots of 1925. He blinks, and says, not deliberately loud enough to disrupt this time, "An interesting and relevant example, considering that the riots of 1925 were part of a larger labor protest movement that was widespread throughout the Pacific Northwest at the time. I think they ended up being put down fairly hard." His eyes flick towards Patrick. "By the Addingtons, if I remember correctly. Well. Proxies hired to strike break, and law enforcement."

He falls silent when Andy stands up to speak, listening with interest, his head cocked to one side.

"Thank you, Sergeant Géroux for your extensive list. We will certainly add a few of those items to the petition," Clarissa says politely. A few of those items. Definitely not those last ones probably. "And thank you," She says to the mayor's assistant, who is dutifully transcribing comments, "for being here. While you may not be here in an official capacity, it's always nice to know that the Mayor's office cares to hear the voice of the people." Smile, smile.

Anne amps up the wattage of her smile to a dazzling brightness to Patrick, before she falls back into a far more neutral expression. There's a cant of her chin to Alexander as she steadies a look upon the man, brows hitching upwards in mild surprise at his knowledge. "Not entirely an incorrect assessment," she remarks. "Though it did result in increased wages at the sawmill, I believe the workers saw an entire extra nickel in their weekly pay." When Andy speaks, her light blue eyes head that away, letting him speak before she voices her own opinion: "That seems like quite a burden to fall upon the casino's shoulders."

Patrick, as if blithely, lifts a shrug after Alexander's comments. "Every family has some black mark to their name if you go back far enough, Clayton. No?" Quiet during Andy's contribution, he's got to be one among many that snicker (and some guy in a camo-ballcap and a Mariners t-shirt who's like "'MURICA!"), but he has nothing to actually add to that narrative. Afterward, he dips his forehead graciously toward Clarissa afterward, then the Mayor's secretary sitting over wherever she's sitting, taking her notes. "Oh, thank you for indulging my curiosity, Ms. Robbins."

There's a brief sound from Alexander, and he turns to stare at Anne in visible affront. "It is almost entirely a correct assessment," he replies, stiffly. Giving her the eye like he's going to challenge her to a history-off right here. He looks like he might actually do it, but then Patrick speaks up, and Alexander's teeth click shut with a force that's actually audible to August and Isabella, at least. A hit, a hit, a palpable hit. The investigator ducks his head and his shoulders hunch defensively, and he says nothing more.

"Might not be a bad strategy in the end - make the casino so onerous to maintain that it just fails on its own," Isabella murmurs, her hands slid into the pockets of her pantsuit as she watches the proceedings continue. Though with a local history expert present, she does flash a faint smile towards Anne's direction, before turning her eyes to Clarissa again. Patrick Addington's remarks earn him a side-eye.

"Ecological damage would still be done," August says, voice equally low. "Construction alone's going to fuck up the estuary, just watch." He sips from his coffee, casts a sidelong, sympathetic glance at Alexander for Patrick's low blow.

"That's precisely what I said. Just backwards," Anne remarks to Alexander. He might be giving her eyes, but she's continuing to wear that pleasant smile. "I was very impressed by your knowledge. There's a lack of quality historians in the world," there's a sigh with those words before she sets her file folders down, folding into a seat and tucking her skirt primly underneath her. "I don't believe failure of the casino is good for the city. The city's been in an economical downturn for quite a number of years. I wonder if anyone's seen the casino's plan to drive tourism? Or if any of these questions on wages - living or otherwise - are actually based on fact and evidence?"

"Missus," Clarissa corrects automatically, giving Patrick a pretty and very fake smile before turning back to those in line. It seems to be dwindling at this point with several of the anti-casino people grumbling that sentiment seems to think it is inevitable now, "Remember that after we have adjourned there will be volunteers ready to accept signatures on the petitions as you leave. But we are willing to stay until everyone's had a chance to speak."

"Putting the health of the community and its workers on the shoulders of the casino may give it a difficult load to carry, but you yourself have said that Gray Harbor has experienced an economic downturn. Imagine what the city would be like if Wal-Mart or Target had been asked to care for the city as if they truly lived here." Andy shrugs. "Ask for everything and hope for something. Ask for nothing and there's no hope at all."

Devlin quietly slips into the back of the room to take a seat. A slight moment of confusion crosses his expression as he sits and then his attention focuses on the speakers. What appears to look like a dispatch bag remains hanging off on his left side.

Patrick trades pretty and very fake smiles with Clarissa. "I stand corrected. Missus Robbins." The pretty-and-fake smile exchanges for (let's just call a spade a spade at this point) an entertained-at-someone-else's-expense smirk when petitions get mentioned, but no arguments here.

"I know," Isabella murmurs to August with a quiet sigh, scrubbing the side of her face. "If not the trout, then certainly the salmon. In the last weekend I think the group pored through this huge report from the US Fish and Wildlife service to see if we can't find something else per your suggestion. I don't know what they're going to try and use yet." Glancing at her fellow field researcher, her smile takes on a more rueful cast. "The permits might be in place but a ruling on the case itself is still pending. Don't know how much time's left, but there's some at the very least. I just don't know if it's enough." Alexander's downcast expression has her reaching out to gently squeeze his forearm.

Alexander eyes Anne uncertainly. "Oh. Sorry," he mutters. "I mean. Thank you. I'm not really a historian. More of a...hobbyist. Of a sort. But it's nice to meet more people with an interest." That, and Isabella's squeeze on his arm (the latter of which provokes a return caress), seems to perk him up a little. Not enough to stick his head back up and return to the casino fray, but enough to dare to give Patrick a sidelong, narrow-eyed look. Studying the smirk with a frown. Yes, these two were clearly best buddies as school mates.

"'If you stand for nothing, Burr, what will you fall for?'" Anne quotes in remarks to Andy, considering this for a long moment. Then, there's a quick shake of that golden brown head of hers. "Still, I feel the attention and expectation upon the casino is misplaced, at least in part. I don't see these kinds of conversations happening over the sawmill, for example," she pointedly does not look in the direction of the Addington in the room, though there's a light upward tug of one corner of her mouth. "Not that I'm inviting anything of the sort, of course. But to pick on the new big shiny in the water is... mm," she considers the word. "Unfair, I think. The Casino's yet been given the opportunity to truly prove it's worth. These concerns could be very unfounded."

A couple more people speak about their views. The usual worries. Will this bring in more tourism? Good or bad? Crime, crime, crime! Addiction seems to be a sticking point with people who look to have already lived through family and friends who struggle with it. But there are voices that sound excited for the new business and the revenue it could bring in and definitely the jobs.

August nods at Isabella, glances from her to Alexander. "Here goes nothing." He gets up and into the line at the mic. Once it's his turn, he says, "I'm wondering what kinds of ecological assurances have been made." A glance around the room. "I'm sure," his mouth turns down, tone gets a little acerbic, "an environmental impact study was done," a bad one, it sounds like he thinks (or maybe one that was 'paid for'), "but we all know those can fail to take into account the entire ecosystem. Sure, maybe the salmonids themselves would be fine, so what little fishing runs are still active don't seem threatened, but our estuary's aquatic plant life definitely won't. And anything that happens to seaweed will impact all the fish and shellfish, and the other animals relying on them in turn. And that all effects water quality, from the bay up to the river. Putting something the size of a casino in this bay is an enormous change to the ecology. And if even the smallest thing goes wrong in construction or during operation, a damaging one. We've got several species hovering outside of critical conservation status, and all it takes is something like this to push them to endangered." He pauses a minute to let that sit. Endangered species are hell on business permits.

"As for burdens to the casino," he glances at Anne, "if a business model doesn't include properly compensating employees for their time while still allowing you to run the business and turn a profit, then the business model is bad, and the business deserves to fail. It's that simple. Taking advantage of the fact that our country's worker protections are piss poor isn't 'good business', isn't being a bad employer. A bad employer is an economic depressor all its own." And that, it would seem, is all he has to say, because he returns to the back of the room.

If Gabriel was hoping that the real killer would be here in the audience, wracked with guilt as they considered the snails and sloths or whatever and the environmental impact assessment, he does not appear to be satisfied. But he does keep looking around, listening, checking his phone from time to time.

Bobby DeWitt here: "That's all on file with the County Clerk's office. I might even have some copies..." He reaches down to open his briefcase and FISH through it for a minute. (Get it, guys??)

"I would love a copy," August says with a sanguine smile.

Nevermind that the Archivist is standing right here, Bobby DeWitt. "I also have copies," Anne replies and pats her trusty file folder.

"I would also like a copy," Alexander says. To Anne. Not to Bobby DeWitt. Alexander does his best to pretend the lawyer doesn't really exist.

"Knock yourself out, sir." Bobby makes sure to paper-clip his business card to the GIANT FILE that he holds out toward August. "Oh hi, Miss Washburn. She also has copies," he's happy to share with you guys. The'll be a stack of business cards at the back, just FYI.

Clarissa listens to what August says, nodding thoughtfully and with the pleasant expression of someone that doesn't really understand everything that was said, but appreciates the intent, "There is a bit in the petition that asks the casino owners to put aside some money to ensure that any environmental impact might be mitigated," which is fancy folk talk for 'throw money at things while fish die and maybe import prettier fish.' "If you would like to take a look at the language to ensure it covers your main worries I would be happy to have you do so."

Andy gives Anne a bland smile paired with a raise and drop of the shoulders. "I don't feel the need to be particularly fair to multi-million dollar store endeavors. I don't tend to believe that corporations are people. But I suppose I'm something of a radical in that way. And if a new sawmill is going in I'd be entirely happy to have this conversation about that as well. I'm an equal opportunity anti-capitalist." The smile brights by one notch. "Oh, and as a historian you should know that Aaron Tippin wrote a song about standing for nothing and falling for anything three decades before Lin Manuel Miranda. And so far as I can tell, I am very much standing for something right now, whereas you are the one saying 'we should give them a chance before we criticize'. So I'm not sure your quip has any place directed at me."

"So, ah, counselor. I'm curious. Your client, given his various nightlife enterprises in the City. Does he support the construction of the casino?" Gabriel leans down to murmur to Bobby, an eyebrow arched. Just so curious.

Devlin nods as he listens to what is being said. At times, taking a look at the hand out on that was on his chair. His gaze moving to whom ever is speaking at the mike and at times, fair guess his gaze shifts to those in the audience making comments. For now, he does not appear to have anything to say.

"You can come down to the counter afterwards if you'd like. There's just a little bit of paperwork that needs to be filled out before I can release any official records," Anne remarks to Alexander. Of course, that 'little bit of paperwork' is probably ten forms that need to be handwritten in black - not blue! - ink, in triplicate! So hopefully Alexander has a few hours to spare~ Anne's attention soon returns to Andy as she cants her head, a light laugh escaping her. "Pop culture references are a lot easier for people to digest, in my opinion. But please, do continue to rail at me for providing an alternative view point."

August accepts the copy of the assessment with the same unfriendly smile. "Thanks," he says. A glance at Alexander says August might have preferred to get it from Anne, but, what can you do. He nods at Clarissa. "I'd like to do that, yes."

"I'm sorry. Detective? Officer?" Patrick adequately pretends that he missed that part of Andy's introduction. "I think the Music History Protests are in the next room over. Did you want me to show you where? We're talking about the already built casino in this room."

Bobby shrugs at Gabriel and asks, "Which client would that be, Detective?"

"Oh, you know, the various LLCs that own certain businesses in Town. You're right. Of course. I just know you're very engaged in land-use policy." Gabriel smiles at Bobby. What a misunderstanding.

Alexander gives Anne a soulful look out of dark, tired eyes. Really? Paperwork? Still, he bobs his head in resignation. "I'll be happy to do so," he lies. But does it really count as a lie if you're not remotely trying to sell it? Because he's not. Instead, his attention skips back to Patrick and Andy, eyebrows going up as he watches the exchange.

"Speaking on behalf of no one in particular," Bobby DeWitt is careful to make sure EVERYONE IN THE ROOM is aware of this. "The casino is already built. Tearing it down would be a waste of time and resources, not to mention the future environmental impacts." He nods to August. "But I defer to the wisdom of Judge Shaw. I'm sure she'll weigh all the various factors and come to the right decision." Or else she'll get shot. 😃

"Huh," says Gabriel, as if that answer surprised him somehow. "Huh." His arms fold over his chest and he wanders towards the back, fishing out his phone as he does.

Unfortunately the archaeologist had been called out of the meeting by a phone call that she can't miss, but it's clear by the look on her face that she is supremely confident that August has managed to stand up on behalf of aggrieved environmentalists and conservationists in their small town with the steady presence and calm that she associates with him. She steps closer towards where the gathering is starting to cluster. "Sorry, it couldn't be helped. How did it go?" Isabella murmurs towards August and Alexander both, though she freezes when it looks like they're talking to a relatively infamous person in the city. There's a wary eye cast on Bobby DeWitt, suddenly feeling the need to turn around, march back out and dump herself into the nearest shower.

And then there's talk about paperwork. "What are we asking for?" she wonders out loud, because she's curious and can't help herself.

"Just because you are choosing to ignore the things I'm saying does not mean I'm not saying them," says Andy to Anne. "And you may be confusing disagreeing with you with railing. Though I think my lack of railing is pretty commendable given your decision to make this personal." Andy looks over to Patrick. "Who are you again? Oh. One of those Addingtons, right? It's so easy to lose track of newcomers to the community."

Patrick dips a nod to Andy and agrees, "I know. It must be a terrible burden for you. I'm Patrick Addington." Here, he unfolds his arms and leans toward Andy, offering a handshake. "T-H-S class of ninety-nine, goooo team. What year were you, again?"

"Oh, I've heard the things you are saying. Again, I ask: Where did you get your information that the casino wasn't going to already provide these things that you're requesting? Living wages, that sort of thing?" Anne lifts a brow, then shrugs her shoulders. "I think you take my offering an alternative viewpoint as disagreeing with you, which is a shame. I only disagree with you on a few points. And I've already said that discussions like these are healthy for the city," she plasters on that pleasant smile before she looks back to Alexander. "The paperwork isn't that bad." It's actually terrible.

"Untrue," Alexander tells Anne, solemnly. He continues to watch Patrick and Andy, his lips quirking up in juuust a hint of amusement at Patrick's reply to the 'newcomer' shot. Bobby's words get a thoughtful frown, and he almost misses Isabella's question. When he blinks at her, it's with surprised. "Oh. Um. Environmental report. Although August got one from over there," he doesn't say DeWitt's name, "so maybe we can just copy it?" He sounds hopeful.

"It went," August tells Isabella with a shrug. "Said what I wanted to say, got people thinking about it. That's what this sort of thing's really for." He gives Anne an incredulous look. "You're kidding, right? You know employment agreements can come with NDAs, can be changed at any time? Sure, they start out paying competatively, then mysteriously, wages never increase, medical plans get worse. Almost like people can't trust employers because there are no state and Federal regulations to hold their feet to the fire." He goes back to flipping through the assessment.

Anne is trying not to look offended by Alexander's suggestion that they copy documents, but she is. She's totally offended. There's a quiet clearing of her throat as she mentions: "Of course, official city records are highly unlikely to be tampered with," not that she's suggesting Bobby DeWitt would tamper with records, but she totally is. There's a look back to August and she hitches her brows upward: "Perhaps the workers should unionize then. Of course, we are talking about potential rather than truth. The City is going to take you far more seriously if you have facts and basis for argument."

"If the casino is already doing these things, then that's great. But I would rather ask for them and hope we get them than hope we get them without having asked. As a policy 'let's wait and see if they're nice' isn't one that has traditionally worked well." Andy gives her a chagrined smile, then turns to shake Patrick's hand. "Sergeant Andy Géroux. Class of 2005. Go <mascot here>. A delight to make your acquaintance."

An assistant of some sort walks a copy of the petition over to August so he can look over the very vague wording of the petition when it comes to environmental concerns. Someone who is not an environmentalist wrote this. Clarissa listens to a few more people speak their minds one way or the other about the casino, nodding and smiling where appropriate, although she does spare a glance between Patrick and Andy. The latter might get the slightest of disapproving looks. Don't taunt the Addingtons! Then she's back to listening politely to the last few arguments.

"The delight is mine, sergeant. I had no idea that the casino was such a thorn in the sides of such a wide sampling of our town's society." Patrick finishes the handshake - it's a normal handshake, he's not trying to Trump it up in here - and resumes his previous position, arms crossed loosely. "I suppose we could just sink the thing. Though I suppose we'd have to pay someone a living wage to set up the charges. Plus, the massive study we'd have to do to what a sunken casino would do to the ecosystem of the harbor." He tap-tap-taps his lips with his index finger. "What a mess."

"If it's the one on the cutthroat trout, I don't know how much help it would be," Isabella tells Alexander, faintly resigned. "That's why August suggested looking at other species as an alternate defense." It might not also be the same report she's seen, a possibility which has curious eyes gravitating to August thereabouts as he manages to wade through the oil slick to obtain what he needs from DeWitt. Eyes track Alexander's attention to Patrick and Andy, with the former introducing himself as another Addington - a revelation that has her watching the two men with renewed interest.

There's also a glance at the discussion between August and Anne. "Everything's potential until it's fully realized," she allows. "But I think recent history - rather the effects of the Wall Street bubble bursting - supports the idea that a casino has more of a chance at wrecking a local economy than it does improving it, if the financials and citizen welfare are the strongest arguments for it. People often think of Vegas and Atlantic City and the reservations when the subject comes up, but this project isn't located in any of those places, and nor is it built in a place that people often think of to visit - and it's hardly the only one of its kind anywhere else in the United States. I also don't know how much consideration has been placed on the fact that particular industry is competitive to begin with, not to mention that it's often the poor who gravitate to quick money than the wealthy. So yes, I believe there is a chance that it could improve lives here, but I think there's a greater chance that it won't and would make things worse."

August gives the petition wording a Disapproving Professor Look. He's not quite dressed right for the expression, but he can be easily imagined in khakis and a sweater vest for a few seconds. Patiently, he asks the assistant, "Can I suggest some wording changes?" He nods at Isabella. "She might want to as well.

Patrick persists after Isabella's piece. "So you're a vote for the 'sink the thing' camp? Just taking a straw poll here."

Devlin is clearly following what is being said about the casino issue. One thing brings about a change in his expression is the newcomer remark, that has him rolling his eyes slightly. He nods about to what August is saying. With the mention of the changes, his expression turns to more of one of curiosity now.

"Mr. Addington and," Alexander pauses to sigh, "Mr. DeWitt have a point, though. The casino is built. The permits are secured. It would have to take a fairly significant disruption of some sort to stop it now, although of course the legal ruling might provide that disruption. Which isn't to say there aren't avenues for trying to ensure its failure after it opens, but then there's a big ugly building floating out in the Harbor that needs to be dealt with, or it'll attract its own problems." Who's side is he on? His voice is toneless, just laying out certain issues as he sees them, after listening around. Then he grimaces, and mutters to Anne. "I'll fill out the paperwork. I will." But he won't like it.

Patrick gets a particularly brilliant smile. "Yes," Isabella says, unabashedly and without shame. "Though not literally, I mean, the trash that would be generated by a literal sinking would be unconscionable."

"Mister Addington brings about a pertinent point," Anne says in a very 'as much as I hate to admit it' tone of voice. There's a flick of a glance to Patrick, though it's just a quick look before she tries to focus on the person in charge here. "What is the intention if the Casino doesn't submit to the demands of the petition? It is already built, and if it fails, we have a very ugly eyesore in an otherwise beautiful bay."

"So what is the literal solution you're proposing?" Patrick asks after Isabella. He even leans forward in her direction, brows lifted, totally and completely listening. While being an ass about it. He points toward Alexander and then Anne when they weigh in. (omg on the same side as an Addington! WILL WONDERS NEVER CEASE????)

The assistant nods to August and hurries back to grab the laptop that has the petition document on it, bringing it back so August can edit it right there and then. "I would like to think that the casino owners, being new to the neighborhood, would like to would want to at least agree to some things in order to look like they want to help the city rather than simply profit off of it," Clarissa replies to Anne smoothly, "I don't believe that once the casino opens anyone will want it to fail. But if it did, I'm sure we could think of a proper public use for it."

"What, in the off-chance that the Casino project doesn't get off the ground?" Isabella wonders at Patrick as he leans over, though she can't help but lean back a little if not just because an attractive face is getting closer to her, and it's almost like looking directly at the sun. "Apply for a grant for an environmental clean-up from the state. Which would probably mean more paperwork, research and even more reports, but at least the city won't have to shoulder the burden and everyone in Washington gets to pitch in. That probably won't save the city and the mayor from getting sued by Joshua Foster, though, if he gets mad enough about it." Her smile tilts upwards. "But believe me when I say I'm eager to see who prevails there."

Devlin speculates with the person next to him, "Sounds like they should figure out a back up plan with that investment in time and resources.." his voice perhaps a little louder than intended on his part. "Hell, bet it would make a great conference center.. or even some educational spaces.. bay based Discovery Place or something.." his comments getting a shrug from the other person (NPC type).

Anne's brows stay hitched upwards as she volleys looks between Isabella, Clarissa, and lastly Patrick. "Public use? What sort? That's assuming, of course, the City could buy back the building.." she consider this.

Alexander eyes Patrick when he leans forward towards Isabella. Just staring at him in a way that's impolite in its directness. "And now Mrs. Robbins has the point," he says, tonelessly. "A building like that could be put to other uses, perhaps ones that would be as attractive to tourists. A convention center is a good example," he adds with a nod at Devlin. "It wouldn't have to be a public building, even. I imagine that local interests would emerge if the property were ever to go up for bid," he adds, very blandly.

Cue another of those 'smartest person in the room' smirks from Patrick. "I see. So you have no particular agenda except to stop an already-built casino from opening. Interesting position." He tilts his look from Isabella to Clarissa and nods, ever-so-gravely again. "I'm sure it will make a wonderful off-shore play-park for under-privileged youth, Missus Robbins. Best plan in the city's budget to set up a fund for all the people who fall overboard from the ferry and sue the city." Beat. "Perhaps a homeless shelter? Round them up, pile them on the ferry, and send them to the empty casino hotel? Plenty of rooms, and then they'd be out of sight..."

"Or an aquarium," August adds, with an approving look for Devlin's suggestion. He murmurs his thanks to the assistant, starts typing out a few comments and edits. When he's done, he nods at Isabella in a suggestion she get a chance to tweak things as well.

Anne doesn't even try to hide the fact that she's rolling her eyes at Patrick. But to Alexander, she frowns. "Do you truly think it's wise to let the property fall into the hands of those who could actually afford to buy it?" she rises up from her seat, smooths out her skirt, and takes up her file folder again. "Tread carefully, is my suggestion. History's proven itself on these kinds of issues. I believe everyone in this room has Gray Harbor's best interest at heart, but.." she frowns, and shakes her head. "Mm. Never mind. Mister Clayton, my counter's down the hall and to the left. I'll have the paperwork waiting."

There's a laugh. "I'm interested in marine conservation, Mister Addington and that's the cause I stuck my flag on when I started volunteering for the consulting environmental group in the case. I wouldn't say I'm completely agenda-less on that end, and I could even argue that answering any questions posed to me counts as a relatively personal one. An agenda, I mean." There's also a glance at Clarissa, though she is momentarily distracted by August who nods to her and she bobs her head in acknowledgment. She will have to catch up with him later on it but whatever he needs from her, he'll have it.

With Anne rising, her movement reminding her once again of her earlier words on history, her hand extends in offerance for a shake. "Isabella Reede," she introduces. "My apologies, I didn't catch your name, Miss...?"

As the last person steps up to share their opinions and the conversations seem to be gravitating to small groups discussing things, Clarissa says to the room, "I'd like to thank everyone for coming out here today and sharing their opinions. I am firmly of the belief that a town like Gray Harbor thrives when diverse voices are heard. Please be sure to sign the petition before you leave and if you leave an email address we'll be sending out updates as well. And again, thank you all for coming. Please do stay to continue the discussion amongst yourselves."

There's an answering laugh, and Patrick summarizes pleasantly to Isabella, "Yes, that's what I said." He makes very agreeable 'mmmhmm' sounds about an aquarium, yep, and then he's going to wind up lingering in the back here while everyone shuffles out, 'cause he wasn't smart enough to beat the rush. Such a rough life, his.

Devlin stands up from his seat. And pauses were he is to allow a few of the slightly infirm exit before him. He nods back to August and tips his hat slightly as he places it back on.

"Anne Washburn," Anne replies pleasantly to Isabella, extending her hand for a quick shake. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Reede. I'm afraid I have to get to my station though," she looks to Alexander and raises brows. "We'll be closing in two hours, so I suggest you work on filling out the papers now. I'll see you shortly." There's a passing glance to Patrick there in his corner, but well, she's up near the front. Sucks to be him! Zoom.

Alexander breaks off staring, and goes to sign the petition, including the e-mail for updates. He probably doesn't realize this means that he's going to get spam from City Hall about garbage days and park levies for roughly the next thousand years. When he returns, he leans in to briefly offer Isabella a kiss on the corner of her mouth, and murmurs. "I'm gonna go fill out paperwork. Have mercy on my soul." His mournful tones make that less of a joke than it might otherwise be. A smile at August and he steps close enough to murmur to the other man, "Thank you, by the way. For the help." And then he's following Anne like a whipped puppy, head down, shoulders drooping.

Devlin finally makes his way out. Interested on what took place, but not personally invested.

"Not a problem," August murmurs back. He makes a face. "Good luck." He means with the paperwork. But, well, maybe in general.

Bobby DeWitt hands out business cards, guys! Take one! Take two, give them to your friends! No case too big, no crime too big, he's got you.

Patrick eventually gets carried out on the shoulders of all his admirers (or just leaves - WITHOUT signing any fucking petitions, get that shit away from him).

The brief, but warm brush is returned, Isabella practically radiating affection towards Alexander. "I'm not the praying sort but if the Hall tries to eat it, let me know and I'll see what I can manage." It's definitely not serious, and she's not really all that fussed about paperwork, either, it's her life! An amused expression lingers on her face when she watches the investigator leave, before taking a step next to August to peer at the papers he has. She groans.

"Yep. That looks about right."